She hums thoughtfully, looking him over. Under other circumstances she might draw it out more, but he's not the only one who's swiftly forgetting practical conversation. ]
You have to get me out of these, first, [ she demands, smoothing her fingers over the waistband of her panties. ]
[ It's especially her plaything right now, when he's inclined to let her do with him whatever she pleases. There are occasions when he's at the wheel, so to speak, getting Scully to unwind, one kiss at a time. And then there's an afternoon like this.
He tugs her panties down her legs, flinging them out into the field for good measure. Post-orgasm, he'll go looking for them, probably. ]
[ Once she has him on her back, she can take care of the rest, she figures. She gives him a light shove, and assuming he rolls obligingly onto his back, she pushes up onto her knees to loom over him, grabbing his boxers by the waistband and dragging them down.
On her knees, hunched over him, she gives his cock a slow, considering stroke, eyes fixe on his face. ]
[ Mulder has every reason to be obliging and no reason to resist. He even lifts his hips a little, making it easier to denude him. She's got his attention, his gaze intense and hungry on hers. ]
I imagine it's a little different. I'm not nearly as nice to them, for starters.
[ Teasingly, she strokes again as she straightens up, swinging her leg so she's straddling his knees. Like this, the changes to her body are unmistakable; the fullness of her breasts, the curve of her stomach.
Her hand comes off him as she leans forward to kiss him, unhurried and passionate, crouched over him so their bodies almost-- but don't quite-- touch. ]
[ Like this, she's gorgeous, the embodiment of all those Renaissance paintings of soft-bellied women with flowing hair and graceful arms. There's a comparison to make with Mary, of course, or maybe Venus on the half shell. ]
Probably aren't quite as happy to see you, either.
[ Aside from the ones with death erections. He's seen a few of those in his time - unfortunately, for both him and the corpses.
He luxuriates in the opportunity to touch her as she kisses him, hands at her hip and her breast, hips straining up towards hers. The rules here are that Scully's running the show, sure, but Mulder's pretty sure this could be considered torture under the Geneva Convention. ]
[ Her smile is sly, but impossibly fond; her hair falls in a curtain around them, giving some illusion of privacy. The sun is on her back, the heat of Mulder underneath her, and it's as close to perfect as anything could be.
She pushes up and shifts close; as much fun as it is to tease, she's a little frantic with wanting him. Hormones, probably. Or maybe Agent Scully is, in fact, in love.
And so she wastes no time, moving to align them so she can sink down onto his cock with a sigh somewhere between pleasure and relief.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
She hums thoughtfully, looking him over. Under other circumstances she might draw it out more, but he's not the only one who's swiftly forgetting practical conversation. ]
You have to get me out of these, first, [ she demands, smoothing her fingers over the waistband of her panties. ]
no subject
[ It's especially her plaything right now, when he's inclined to let her do with him whatever she pleases. There are occasions when he's at the wheel, so to speak, getting Scully to unwind, one kiss at a time. And then there's an afternoon like this.
He tugs her panties down her legs, flinging them out into the field for good measure. Post-orgasm, he'll go looking for them, probably. ]
What about mine? On or off?
no subject
[ Once she has him on her back, she can take care of the rest, she figures. She gives him a light shove, and assuming he rolls obligingly onto his back, she pushes up onto her knees to loom over him, grabbing his boxers by the waistband and dragging them down.
On her knees, hunched over him, she gives his cock a slow, considering stroke, eyes fixe on his face. ]
no subject
Think this is how your cadavers feel?
no subject
I imagine it's a little different. I'm not nearly as nice to them, for starters.
[ Teasingly, she strokes again as she straightens up, swinging her leg so she's straddling his knees. Like this, the changes to her body are unmistakable; the fullness of her breasts, the curve of her stomach.
Her hand comes off him as she leans forward to kiss him, unhurried and passionate, crouched over him so their bodies almost-- but don't quite-- touch. ]
no subject
Probably aren't quite as happy to see you, either.
[ Aside from the ones with death erections. He's seen a few of those in his time - unfortunately, for both him and the corpses.
He luxuriates in the opportunity to touch her as she kisses him, hands at her hip and her breast, hips straining up towards hers. The rules here are that Scully's running the show, sure, but Mulder's pretty sure this could be considered torture under the Geneva Convention. ]
no subject
[ Her smile is sly, but impossibly fond; her hair falls in a curtain around them, giving some illusion of privacy. The sun is on her back, the heat of Mulder underneath her, and it's as close to perfect as anything could be.
She pushes up and shifts close; as much fun as it is to tease, she's a little frantic with wanting him. Hormones, probably. Or maybe Agent Scully is, in fact, in love.
And so she wastes no time, moving to align them so she can sink down onto his cock with a sigh somewhere between pleasure and relief.]