Sequel time for "White Rabbit" I wouldn't have written
it, but Paula wanted
to know how Alex would react to his seduction.
Spoilers for "Sleepless" and "Duane Barry"
Disclaimer: Not mine. Still not mine. Surely he won't mind me
borrowing them
if I don't break them?
Rated NC17 for slash...m/m interaction galore
Beta by Orithain, my lady of the commas, to whom there should
be a shrine.
Thanks Ori!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"March Hare loves Mad Hatter"
by Dr. Ruthless
****************************************
I still don't believe it, can't believe it. I'm having cold sweats
just
thinking about it.
Yesterday I killed someone, and it made me sick, but that's not
it. I knew
that was bound to happen one day. I am in the FBI after all.
Yesterday I let a man have sex with me, make love to me, whatever
you want
to call it, and I didn't run screaming from the touch of his hands,
or his
lips, or his cock. This isn't featured in the FBI manual. They
didn't give
me any training that would cover it while I was at Quantico.
What was I thinking? Whatever did he put in that drink?
I know he didn't put anything in the drink. I can't even blame
that. I have
no excuses, and I don't want to think about it for too long, and
whatever
possessed me to let him do that to me?
Whatever possessed me to do it to *him*?
I know the feel of his lips sliding over my skin. It felt good.
It felt...
right, somehow right. That's no excuse. I shouldn't have done
it. God damn
him! God damn me!
I want to do it again.
Now, I'm sitting waiting for him to come into the office and I'm
going to
have to be polite, pretend that everything is still exactly the
same and
make like it didn't happen. I'm going to have to grit my teeth
and deliver
reports and discuss cases with him when all I want to do is curl
up into a
little ball and rock in a corner.
Maybe AD Skinner won't mind if I crouch under his desk.
The door swings open and in he comes, head up, slight smile, coffee
cartons
clasped in hand.
"I brought you a coffee. How are you feeling?" I avoid
his gaze, and he puts
the coffee down on my side of the desk. I don't know what to say
to him. I
can feel a red tide sweeping up my neck and across my cheeks.
What the fuck
is this? I drop my head into my hands and moan softly.
He's beside me in a wink. His hand on my shoulder burns me, and
I cower God
damn it. I cower. I'm not ready for him to play the sensitive
listener. What
I really want to do is grab him by the hair and beat his head
on the desk
until he's unconscious. I want to smash his face until he can
no longer look
at me with his sarcastic, sexy, fuckable half-smile.
I want to shove my cock into him again and shove it deep, push
it hard into
him until he screams for mercy, tells me he's sorry and he'll
forget it if I
will. I want to wipe out what's happened to me with a quick spurt
of jism,
and no regrets.
I'm hard dammit! I'm hard and I know he knows. I'm pinned here
to my seat,
and there's no way I can get away, no way I can escape his cataloging
eye.
Deep breaths, Alex! Breathe deep and think about something else.
Think about
exercise. I'll go to the gym after work and pump weights until
I can't feel
anything any more, 'til my limbs are all light and shaking, and
I have no
energy left for remorse. I'll...I'll run there to warm up. He
runs, I've
seen him, sweat in his hair, strong arms pumping and his long
legs flying in
an easy stride that makes him seem to float.
Big mistake! Whoa! Don't think about him. Just don't, OK?
My fool erection is subsiding a little at any rate. I risk looking
at him,
and his face seems non-committal. He is keeping it carefully expressionless
and polite, and that makes me nervous.
"Regrets, Krycek?" His voice is calm, dispassionate,
and I study him now,
trying to see traces of the Fox that lay in my arms yesterday.
I can't. This
is purely Mulder, and I don't know how to talk to him.
"Mulder, you...you.." He smiles wolfishly.
"I seduced you? Is that what you're trying to say?"
I nod, inadequately, my
face burning with shame again. His hand creeps from my shoulder
to the back
of my neck, stroking softly amongst the fine hairs there, and
making that
fucking erection of mine leap up again. "I know I seduced
you. You don't
have to tell me. It isn't something I'd forget."
"Fuck you, you sarcastic son of a bitch!" I'm really
ticked. How dare he
turn my life on its ears and then make schoolboy jokes about it.
"You already did, and it was terrific. Am I sensing that
you can't handle
it? Is your ego really so fragile, Alex?" He plants his barbs
carefully,
knowing how to ensure that they tear me apart. I swallow, but
there's still
something solid in my throat. I don't know how to handle this.
He's too
slippery, too clever for me.
"I don't know why you did it. I'm confused." His fingers
are still moving
just above my collar, and I'm fighting the urge to shove my elbow
into his
groin to break free of him. I want jerk my head away. I want to
snuggle back
against his hand with a sigh. I do nothing.
"Krycek, I did nothing to force you. I want you, sure, but
I'm no raper of
innocent boys. You came to me of your own free will, and I thank
you for it,
it was wonderful. You are a beautiful, beautiful man, and I could
go on
forever about what it meant to me to have you trust me, love me,
but I'm not
going to force myself on you." His hand ceases its play in
my hair. He leans
down and places a hard, bruising kiss on my lips, swiping with
his tongue
and making that fool cock of mine twitch in response. "I'm
not going to do
anything except wait, Krycek. If you want me, I'll be here, but
you're going
to have to ask me. You are going to have to come to me and tell
me that you
want me. You aren't going to get away with blaming me. If you
want anything
more from me, you will need to come to terms with wanting me.
I know how I
feel about you, but only you can come to terms with your feelings
for me."
I sit frozen, feeling him withdraw from me and move to his chair.
Why do I
feel as if someone ripped my warm blanket away from me and turned
me out
into the cold? I should be grateful, but I'm not. Dumbly I look
at him and
nod. Blandly, he smiles and reaches for a file and a pen.
My cock slowly, slowly returns to its sleeping state, and I reach
disconsolately for my coffee.
*********************************
We've been working out. She's strong for a girl. Her complexion
is very
fair, and her muscles are sleek under the covering of pale skin.
A small
dusting of freckles makes her look vulnerable. She's tall, her
head tucks
neatly under my chin when we dance. Her hair is sweat darkened
right now,
thick tangles of brown curls sticking to her cheeks and her neck.
She grins
at me as she raises her water bottle. I'm studying her curves,
she's a
pretty girl, but that's not why I like her, well not the only
reason anyway.
She's got full breasts, long legs, rounded arms, I could go on,
listing the
prettiness of her, but that would omit the wicked sense of humor
that keeps
me hanging onto her utterances. I guess what I'm trying to say
is, I love
her for her mind.
I *do* love her.
Honestly!
"See you in the hot tub?" Her voice is deep, breathy.
I love the way it
sounds.
"Sure, Babe. I'll be right out." Turning, I grab my
towel and head for the
changing rooms.
Once out in the hot tub, I sink gratefully into the heated bubbling
water
and wait. The hard jets of water scourge my back and arms, and
I groan with
the sensuality of it. This is my favorite part of a workout! I
love the
feeling of the hot water pummeling tired muscles until they float
from the
bone.
Andy comes walking carefully over the wet pool surround to slide
in at my
side and sighs as she sinks up to her shoulders in the warmth.
Her one-piece
swimsuit is plain. She doesn't need any embellishments. Her lithe
figure is
ornament enough. I feel her hand run along my thigh under the
bubbles and
raise a quizzical eyebrow at her.
"Didn't do enough curls, Hon! By rights you shouldn't have
the strength left
to do that!" I feel her fingers gently kneading the inside
of my thigh. At
my words, they stray up to the bulge in my shorts, and she squeezes
gently!
"Actually, I was kinda hoping that you wouldn't have the
strength to fight
me off." She leers at me in a ladylike way, and I lay my
head against hers
for a brief minute.
"Hmm...Just wait until I get you home young woman. We'll
see who needs to
fight who off!" Her fingers have worked their way inside
the leg of my
shorts, and she's tugging on my penis, curling her fingers around
it and
tweaking it gently. If it notices, it doesn't let on. The thing
stays curled
like a prawn, disregarding her completely. I'm a little taken
aback, but I
did work out quite hard, and it's been a long day.
"If you're expecting me to get happy right now, Babe, I think
you're going
to be disappointed. I'm really tired. I don't think I've got a
thrust in me
just at the moment." Her hand flits away again, and she grabs
my head,
kissing me soundly, and then ducking under the water still hanging
onto me,
so that I emerge blowing and gasping like a fool, water streaming
from my
eyes and nose. By the time I clear my vision of course, she has
moved out of
my reach, so I settle for making faces at her.
Later, as we lounge in front of the idiot box, I reach for her
and haul her
onto my lap. She snuggles into my arms, turning up her face to
kiss me, eyes
closed and face serious. I lower my head and claim her mouth,
holding her to
me as I kiss her, my hands moving under her skirt to slide inside
her
panties. She is wet already, and my fingers move inside to caress
her while
my thumb seeks out that magic button just above. She moans into
my mouth and
hangs on around my neck, gasping.
Slowly, we work our way down until she's lying half under me,
and I'm still
playing with her, rubbing and stroking her while she whispers
my name. I
pull up her shirt, exposing her pink tipped breasts and sucking
on each in
turn as I continue to work moist magic with my fingers. She gasps
and looks
at me out of half drowned eyes.
"God Alex, I love you to do that." I move down, dragging
off her panties
before nuzzling into the wetness of her center. Hands knot in
my hair as I
lick daintily at her, and then bury my face in her, sucking her
clitoris,
fingers pressing into her. She comes for me and cries my name
again and
again. I can feel the contractions around my hand and the little
spurts of
moisture as she comes. I'm still soft. This is a worry. I don't
think it's
ever happened before.
Her insistent hand is tugging on my hair, hauling me up to kiss
her, and for
a minute we're pressed really close and I'm delving to the very
bottom of
her mouth. She tastes sweetly of chamomile and breath mints. She
tastes
herself on my tongue and groans through my kiss. Then she reaches
down for
me, and of course there's nothing. Nothing at all.
"Alex? Is there something wrong? Did I do something?"
Her dark eyes are
worried, and I find it hard to meet her gaze.
"No, Andy, you didn't do a thing. Why would you think that?
I'm just a
little stressed is all. Maybe just leave me out of it tonight.
You enjoyed
that didn't you?" She smiles and makes a sound of contentment
in the back of
her throat. I think she's going to leave it there but of course
she doesn't.
Rolling over to cover me, she works her way down my body to my
fly, and
opens it, hauling out my stupid penis, and licking around it in
a careful,
contemplative way. I think to myself that this is different from
the way
that Fox did it. His mouth was hotter, harder, and he wasn't so
gentle. As I
think of Fox, the fucking thing rises again, stiff and throbbing.
It's only
as I pretend that the mouth on me is his that all of a sudden,
I come
violently, not giving her a chance to pull away. She's ticked
at me. Not
half as ticked as I am at myself. We neck a little more, and then
she leaves
to go home, and I am alone with my thoughts.
//What has that bastard done to me?//
I take myself off to bed, and lie there in the darkness trying
not to think
of dark kisses sending lines of fire from my neck to my cock.
I avoid the
images of skin like silk sliding over me, while a hot sweet mouth
lashes
streamers of shivery joy wherever it touches and sucks me clean
as I shoot
into it.
It's no good. I can see him looking in disbelief at my boxers.
I can see him
as he was this morning, trying to conceal his feelings from me.
Above all, I
can see him above me, his face contorted with joy as he rides
out his
orgasm.
What the fuck do I do about this?
What is there I can possibly do? Wait, this too shall pass. I
don't think
there's anything else that can be done. I can't get his face out
of my mind,
and Mr. Happy, damn him, won't let me sleep. Finally, I grab hold
of him and
yank on him until he explodes again, locking up my joints and
spattering me
with evidence that I am still a man.
I sleep, but my dreams are confused, clouded with images of him.
Twice I
wake as my dick spurts in homage to my partner. By morning I feel
heavy eyed
and a little feverish.
********************
I crawl through the day. I crawl through the week that follows
it. It feels
as if my whole life is done and gone now because of this one man.
He treats
me in his impersonal way, bullying me into letting him drive.
He graciously
listens to my theories and occasionally applauds them. His eyes
follow me
when he thinks I'm not watching, but I am. When he's there, I
can't take my
eyes off him. I'm good at observing through my eyelashes, and
I don't think
he knows. He never says anything, not even when I arrive yawning,
hollow-eyed and cranky, ready to fight over any damn thing he
likes. Andy
finally decides that she wants someone who can fuck her. Oral
sex is all
very well in its way, she says, but she needs more. Go figure.
I thought
that girls liked it better. Guess I was wrong!
The day comes when he's out of the office 'til late in the morning.
I have
no idea where he is, so I get to it and write a report, knowing
that it
needs to be done whether or not he's riding herd on me. The phone
rings.
"Krycek."
"I need you to go get Agent Mulder for me right now."
The voice is abrupt.
"Sir, I don't know where he is." I'm whining, I know
it.
"Come on up to my office, Krycek, I'll give you all the details
you need."
Dumping the phone back into its cradle, I set off up the stairs
at a trot.
As Skinner goes over the case file with me, I have an ominous
foreboding. I
know this man. I know what I'm required to do, and I can feel
my time coming
to a close. I repress a shudder, and the vision of Fox Mulder
that rarely
leaves me these days, eyes closed in ecstasy as he comes, floats
up in front
of me. How can I get through the next few days? Oh, Fox!
Bearing my clipboard like a shield against him, I race down to
the swimming
pool where I'm told he will be. As I enter, I can see a sleek
form powering
through the water. Nothing prepares me for the sight of him as
he climbs out
of the pool. He's wearing a red Speedo, and he's glistening wet.
He leans on
the rail as I approach to deliver my message, and I can see the
long legs,
the flat belly, the broad shoulders and the sleek muscles of his
chest. I
can see the bulge of his crotch, and my dick is doing its thing
again.
My fingers ache to brush away the moisture clinging to the scattering
of
hairs on his chest, and I mumble incoherently at him. He does
get the
message and goes off to get changed, motioning for me to follow
him. He's
shooting questions at me over his shoulder as he goes, so I have
no choice
but to go after him. My extremities go numb, and I can feel a
terrible
leaden pressure in the pit of my stomach. Please don't make me
do this.
My cock is so hard I'm gasping as I walk. I follow him in, and
I can't
concentrate on what he's saying because I'm watching him strip
off the
Speedo, and looking at his smooth white, beautiful butt. My tongue
feels too
big for my mouth, and there's no saliva left in there. My heart
is thumping.
I look at him poised with his towel, drying off his left leg,
his knee
raised, the dark strands of his pubic hair curling around his
penis. I gulp,
and then I croak.
"Fox!" He turns to eye me with interest. He stands there,
still naked,
making no attempt to cover himself, content to display himself
to me. He
waits.
"Fox, dammit!" I'm an idiot! I don't know what the hell
to do or say, but I
know he is waiting. "I want..."
He raises an eyebrow, and that sardonic look is on his face. I'm
dying here
and he's letting me. He waits.
"I want you." I mumble and he doesn't help me.
"Want me? How do you want me?" Served up on a silver
platter surrounded by
endives and truffles, I want to yell. I don't. I don't know what
to say. I
raise my eyes in mute appeal but find no answering kindness.
"I want to fuck you again." I practically yell it at
him, and he nods, drops
his towel and strides forward. I'm rooted to the spot as he takes
me by the
shoulders and yanks me forward into his embrace.
He holds me close to him, looking into my eyes with an expression
I mistake
for kindness at first. Then his lips descend on mine, drowning
out reason,
coherent thought and any sense of time that still remained to
me. I remember
the silk of his lips and open up to allow his tongue free access
to the
secrets of my mouth. He invades it, and plunges, licking and stroking,
sifting through the space within it as if it were his own private
place. My
hands are full of warm, moist skin. My nose is full of the scent
of chlorine
with the underlying hint of warm, musky male. My cock is rigid,
and I'm
bucking up against him as if I were a teenager, dry humping a
date.
He finally pulls back and gazes at me through lazy lidded eyes.
His teeth
appear, to bite into his lower lip as he studies me. I'm all in
disarray,
clumsy, sad, a poor monster faced with too much beauty. I don't
know what to
do, so in the end, I do nothing. It's enough, he pulls me to him
again, his
mouth moving down my chin to browse on my throat. I run my hands
over him
and feel the response in his quickening breaths and his urgent
hands.
"Alex?" His voice, low and husky with need, breaks into
my thoughts. I bring
myself out of the trance I'm in with an effort. His hands go to
my collar,
smoothing my tie as if it were an extension of my flesh.
With difficulty, I drag myself back to the present. He's there,
in front of
me, and he wants a response from me.
"I'm sorry." I mumble. "We have to go. Skinner
will be down to find out
where we are if you don't get to his office in the next five minutes.
I let
my hands fall away from him, my palms still tingling from the
feel of his
silky skin. He purses his lips, nods and dresses efficiently,
combing his
wet hair back and grabbing the jacket of his suit to put on as
he heads for
the door. Pausing at the door, he turns back and leans against
it waiting
for me as I trail behind him.
"Tonight, Alex. We're going to have to get together tonight."
He runs his
finger across my lips, and I turn my head to suck it into my mouth.
This
makes him groan a little, and he pulls me to him again, pressing
along the
length of me, mouth slipping moistly to glue itself to mine again.
I lean on
him and feel his warmth through the silk of his suit, avidly sucking
his
tongue as I concentrate on the fiery knife-point prickles of sweetness
generated by the feel of it in my mouth. I'm holding him helplessly,
breath
ragged, as I rub my body shamelessly against his.
"Oh, Baby, you really do want me, don't you?" His hand
finds my fly and
worms its way in to caress my shameless, desperate cock. He pulls
on it
lightly and I lose the power of speech. It's like magic, one tug
and I'm a
mute groaning mass of sensation! Then he shakes his head at me,
drops to his
knees and engulfs me in his soft, hot mouth. I can't help it,
I scream, and
he chuckles around my cock, the vibrations driving me batshit,
making my
knees give way. I fall forward to put my palms on the door so
I can still
stand up. The sweet sucking pressure of his mouth around my dick
and the
shivering sensation of true ecstasy coiling up my spine suddenly
merge, and
I throw my head back as I blow, shooting into his mouth, rigid
with
pleasure. It feels as if the top of my head is flying off, and
his mouth
tenderly licks me clean as I feel to make sure my brains aren't
all hanging
out where they can catch on things!
The force of my response shakes me. I can't do anything except
roll my head
from side to side and moan. He rises from his knees to fasten
that mouth of
his to mine again, and I sag in his arms like a Raggedy Andy...like
a doll,
just a doll.
When he releases me, and I can finally speak, there isn't anything
I can
say. He holds open the door for me, and I follow him, trembling,
back into
the real world.
******************
Fuck!
Fuck and shit and God damn it! He's in there being a hero, and
there goes my
night in his arms. We don't have too much time left, and I want
to feel good
one last time.
Selfish of me, I know but I've only just found him. I can't lose
him yet.
God! I want to run away from here right now. They are all ignoring
me,
except for the ones who are using me as their errand boy. I want
to go in
there with my gun blazing and rescue him.
Please let him be OK. Please!
*****************
He looks terribly tired, terribly wounded. He's whining, and he
never
whines.
I want to kiss away the lines around his eyes. Skinner just told
me to see
that he gets home safely. I take his arm and mouth "Come
on," and he stands
mutely for a minute, before allowing me to lead him away.
He's so tired that he lets me drive. That has to be a first. I
lead him
tenderly from the car, take his keys from him and open his door.
Then I
gently tug him in and shut out the brightness of the morning.
He just stands
there, limbs hanging loosely, and I wonder how to help him.
Heading into the bathroom, towing him, in control for the first
time in this
relationship, I turn on the shower and help him to undress. He's
limp,
uncomplaining, totally plastic under my hands. The shock shows
itself in the
yellowing of his skin. I stroke his face gently and press small
kisses on
him to soothe him, but he doesn't really notice me.
Stripping my own clothes off, I get him under the shower, and
stand behind
him to work the shampoo into his hair, soaping his back, then
reaching under
his arms to attack the front of him with my soapy sponge. I'm
pressed up
close to his back, the warmth of the water mingling with the warmth
of his
skin. Running my hands over him, I create a mental blueprint that
I will
never be able to forget. I will have this to remember when the
coming storm
has me in its grip, and I can no longer reach him.
Unprotesting he allows me to dry him, and then I lead him to his
bed. It's
covered with files, books, a plate with a very old sandwich on
it, even a
partly dismantled piece of electronic something-or-other with
lots of dials
and LED lights on it. I pick it up and it rattles. Bits drop off
it.
Clearing his bed takes a little time, but finally I sit him on
the edge of
it and drop down beside him.
I've brought him this far, he has to want what follows, or it's
all for
nothing. I put my arm around him and pull his head to my shoulder.
At this
point, he relaxes into my arms and sobs quietly. All I can do
is stroke him
and murmur nonsense to him, so that's what I do.
For a while we sit like this. I feel wetness on my shoulder and
raise his
face to lick away his tears. He tries a smile through his misery
and my
heart thuds painfully. I love this man, I really do, and it's
all for
nothing.
"Come on, you really need to sleep." I press him backwards,
laying him down
and arranging him so that he's covered. Crawling in to lie at
his side, I
throw my arm around his waist and curl my leg protectively over
him. I kiss
gently along his jaw, feeling the stubble that's been growing
there for the
past two days. My own chin is not much better, but I don't care,
the rasp of
his chin feels real to me.
""Sleep now, Fox. It will all seem more easy to solve
after you get some
rest." I'm speaking gently, trying to hypnotize him, I guess.
Somehow I
don't think I'll ever make a hypnotist, because he suddenly turns
himself to
face me and grabs me roughly, kissing my breath out of my lungs
and digging
his fingers into my side so hard it hurts me.
"Fox, you need to rest." My heart's pounding, and I
want so much for him to
make love to me, but he needs his sleep. He's at the end of his
tether, so
being the self-sacrificing man I am, I can forgo passion, to give
him
tenderness that he might recall someday when he thinks of me.
He doesn't
answer, he just proceeds to take me apart, body from soul, with
his lips,
his tongue and his clever fingers.
I am drowning in the warmth and feel of his body pressed along
mine. I can
feel his cock hard against mine, and I reach down to squeeze the
two
together, causing him to moan, causing me to moan too! I hold
him close,
whispering silly things to him, telling him that I want him, want
this
between us. Now I can tell him, the floodgates are open and I
can't shut up.
I babble about how much I need him between great, greedy kisses.
I return
again and again to those full lips, nibbling the lower, sucking
them as I
kiss him.
He finds my nipples and rolls them between his finger and thumb,
sending
coils of lust from my chest down to my balls. I'm rapidly losing
the ability
to rub two thoughts together. All I can think at the moment is
summed up by
"More, need more, now!" I'm grunting into his mouth
as he draws the
lightning down my body. I put my hand on him, feeling the satin
smoothness
of the skin covering his prick, and beneath it, the hard shaft.
I tear
myself from his devouring mouth to work my way down to the center
of his
body, leaving a wet trail of gentle kisses in my wake. He throws
his head
back as I take hold of his cock, and I can feel the bubbling under
the skin
as a thrill runs the length of him. There is a droplet of clear
liquid at
the tip of him, and I put out my tongue to taste it. He tastes
salty, and I
lap around the head of his cock, eyes closed at first to savor
the
sensation, then open wide to drink in the sight of his pleasure
at my
actions. He is so beautiful. I'm mouthing the head of it, wondering
if it's
even possible to get the whole thing into my mouth, his hips are
working
frantically, and I try, diving down to take in as much as I can,
and
listening as he rewards me with a hissing sigh. I suck, lashing
my tongue
over the vein that runs down to the base, and my fingers creep
through to
part his cheeks, feeling for the sensitive opening that I recall
made him
thrill the first time we made love. I wet my fingers with saliva
and probe
until I can feel his muscle give way, and then my finger slides
into him,
right into him, making him cry out and grab my hair as he thrusts
upwards
into my mouth.
Moving my finger in and out of him, I watch him. His eyes are
closed the way
I've been picturing them every time I try to sleep, and the look
of blind
ecstasy on his face tells me I'm doing this right. He starts to
jerk
helplessly, and I'm going to taste him, I'm going to make him
come for me.
"Give it to me! Oh, God, Fox, come on, I want to taste you.
Give it to me
now!" I push my finger in hard, angling back for that place
I know that
feels so good, and he cries out.
"Yes! Keep doing that, Alex. Please don't stop!" I can
feel his muscles
tensing, I suck hard and he tightens, pushing my head down on
his cock and
thrusting up at me until I can't breathe. I can feel the first
spurting from
his cock, and the sensation of it is unlike anything I've experienced
before. He thrusts again, and again. My mouth fills with the taste
of him,
sharp, warm, acrid, mine.
As his erection begins to subside, I look up to him again.
"Now you can sleep? Did that help?" He smiles down to
me.
"Don't think I'm finished yet! Come here, up here to me."
His hand in my
hair is pulling me, so I make my way upwards to lay partly covering
him
while he runs his hands over my back, down to my butt.
I take his face between my two hands and drop my head until my
lips are
brushing his. He cups my ass and pulls me against him, pressing
my penis and
causing me to shudder and groan. Finally, he rolls me over until
he is lying
above me and produces a tube of something from under the pillow.
I'm kissing
him as if he's my link to air. His hand goes to my cock and I
can feel the
slippery sensation of his slick hand working me up and down. I'm
just about
crying with the need to come when he pulls his mouth away from
mine and
rises up to sink himself down on my tingling shaft.
He slips down to rest, impaled on me, his muscle clenching around
the base
of my cock. He feels like hot, wet silk. He feels like home. I
wait, rigid,
knowing that if I move it will be all over. My balls are just
about turning
themselves inside out, and the biggest orgasm in the world lies
curled in
the pit of my stomach, waiting for the slightest movement to set
it off.
Once it gets loose, it will go ravening through my groin and send
fiery
pulses of slippery delight up my spine to lock up my limbs. Fox
waits,
watching me closely, knowing the state I'm in. He gets a cruel,
wide smile
on his face, and he drops his hands to caress my belly then leans
forward to
pinch my nipples. Suddenly, as he moves on me, I lose every voluntary
response, and that waiting monster rampages through my flesh,
electric jolt,
lightning bolt pouring me through my penis and out the end in
a timeless,
frantic fizzing rush. Everything goes dim, and all I can do is
hold on tight
to the sheet below me and concentrate on breathing.
He laughs, gently, and falls to hold me in his arms for a brief
moment. I
have no words to thank him with and can only touch him gently
on the cheek
as I gasp for air.
I clutch him to my chest and bury my lips in his neck. I feel
him relaxing
finally. Rolling to place him alongside me, I watch my lovely
Fox slowly
fall asleep, and my heart is heavy, because now I need to leave
him.
He looks peaceful at last, sleeping, and I gradually disengage
myself,
pulling myself up to sit alongside him. I watch him sleep for
a long time,
burning into my memory the sight and feel of him beside me. This
is all I
will ever have, and I must not forget even a single second of
it. I have to
go now. I need to try and renegotiate with my employer. I can't
be the cause
of my lover's misery. I can't do it anymore, now that I know how
much I love
him. I brush his hair back off his face and very gently lean down
to brush
that tender lower lip with mine. Then I pour my heart out to him
while he
sleeps. I wish to God I had the courage to do it while he is waking,
but I
can't bear to see the contempt that will surely be in his eyes.
When he
learns of how I have harmed him, I will be long gone. I will never
see him
again, and I will never be able to forget him.
"Fox, my lovely Fox! I want to tell you this, even though
I know you will
not hear me. I am not the man you think I am. I have been working
for people
who sent me to watch you, and to sabotage certain aspects of your
work. I
never meant to love you, but I do. Now I can't work against you
any more,
and I am going to go and try to change what I can. Please believe
that I
never would have hurt you if I had known you. I only hope that
I can change
things so that they aren't so bad." Then I place a kiss on
his sleeping
lips.
Then, sadly, I dress and leave.
There is an old Chinese proverb. One glass of wine is better spilled.
If
there is only one glassful and there will never be another, it
is better to
spill it on the ground than get a taste for it, because it will
forever make
you regret your loss. I drank, and I will forever wish I hadn't.
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