Title:- With a Finger on the Trigger
Author:- Sue <email@example.com>
URL:- The Pest House at <http://www.tifling.demon.co.uk/x/gateway.htm>
Date:- January 1999
Spoilers:- SR 819
Summary:- In a dark, deserted place, two enemies meet.
Miscellaneous Notes:- This story probably won't make sense if
you haven't seen the episode SR 819. Many thanks to Carol and
Nic for their insightful and swift comments.
With a Finger on the Trigger by Sue <firstname.lastname@example.org>
"I've been expecting you to show up." Skinner's voice
was tired, resignation infiltrating his soul.
"You know I can push the button any time," the man seated
in the rear of the car stated menacingly.
"What do you want from me. What's this about, Krycek?"
Krycek leaned forward into a patch of sickly pale light, a smile
barely restrained. "All in good time." Settling back
into his seat Krycek spread his legs wide and placed the keypad
between his thighs. "Nice piece of equipment, don't you think?"
he commented lewdly, his hand resting comfortably on his crotch.
Skinner glared angrily at the brazenness of his former subordinate,
resisting the urge to smack Krycek's angelic face. Slumping back
into his seat, Skinner stared morosely through the windscreen,
pondering the sick joke that circumstance had played on him. Finally,
when he'd chosen a cause to nail his colours to, fate had thrown
him a sucker punch and forced him to collaborate with the enemy.
His left hand fisted unconsciously as he fought to squash the
disgust that was threatening to overwhelm his gut. His jaw tensed
tightly while his teeth grated hard together.
"Now, now Skinner, turn about is fair play." Krycek's
tone mocked him with its false camaraderie.
Skinner swallowed hard; unbidden images of their last encounter
flashed in his mind.
~A kneeling Krycek, hands cuffed behind him, shivering with cold
and fear on my balcony in Arlington. Abandoning the warmth of
my apartment, I join him. With a sudden explosion of anger I smash
my service weapon across his face, bloodying his nose. The penitent
man creeps forward pressing his face against his captor's crotch,
mouthing the fabric until I unzip my fly and present my cock.~
Heat blazed in Skinner's groin.
~The prisoner licks tentatively at my cock, causing it to stiffen
rapidly. Licking and sucking, he diligently trails a moist path
to my cockhead. Delving inside the foreskin, he teases the sensitive
top with the tip of his tongue, eliciting a moan and a jerky,
gasped breath. He then mouths my tight balls and sucks on them
noisily. Next his attention returns to my shaft, now enraged with
blood and heat. Tired of waiting for the main event I catch the
back of his head and with a tilt of my pelvis thrust my hungry
cock harshly inside his mouth.~
Skinner shifted uncomfortably, his cock hard with remembrance.
~Now knowing how it was going be, the kid moves with all due haste.
Abandoning any attempt at finesse, he forces the pace, wanting
it over as much as I do, hoping to finish me off before I can
inflict any real damage. I smile broadly; 'oh yes, the kid is
good.' It's sweet revenge to be in the fucker's warm, wet mouth.
That'll teach him to jump me in a hospital stairwell. I lean forward
and grind my gun into his crotch as I whisper, close to his ear,
"Looks like you have a nice ripe ass too. Maybe I can fuck
it later." Adding solicitously, "Only if you're good,
Skinner swallowed hard.
"You remember, don't you?" Krycek asked rhetorically.
~As my orgasm nears I pummel relentlessly, forcing my cock as
far down his throat as I can manoeuvre. My semen spurts hard causing
him to gag and swallow. My cock softens and slips free of his
lips; wiping it clean on the scum sucker's face, I mark my territory.~
"Are you going to need encouragement?" Krycek inquired
mockingly as he tapped the keypad between his legs.
"It doesn't matter one way or the other," Skinner replied
quietly. Turning, he repositioned himself in the car, wedging
himself between the front seats, legs tangled with the dividing
Krycek quickly grabbed his box of tricks, yanking them out of
reach, and wiggled his hips forward provocatively, his ass resting
on the edge of the back seat. "I'm all yours, darling,"
Skinner reached forward and unzipped the jeans, releasing Krycek's
already erect shaft. Securing it in his fist, it almost burnt
his skin with its blistering heat. Deftly fingering Krycek's balls
with his other hand, the sac tightened encouragingly under his
probing touch. He almost smiled with pride but snapped off the
reaction. Focusing tightly on the job in hand, Skinner progressed
swiftly to a rhythm of jerking and squeezing that he hoped would
end this fiasco as soon as possible. It was hard to judge how
close Krycek was; the fucker hadn't made a sound since his last
With the tension in his balls growing painful, Krycek's head drooped
forward by Skinner's ear as he hissed, "Suck it."
"What?" Skinner's head jolted back in surprise, as if
he'd been bitten.
"No ... I ... no ..." Skinner fumbled for a reason why
he couldn't blow Krycek.
Suddenly Skinner's vision blurred and disorientation rocked him.
Releasing Krycek's cock he grabbed the front seatback to steady
"Would you like some more of that?" Krycek's voice was
steely calm and full of menace.
Skinner's vision refocused and he timidly did as instructed, tasting
the salty moisture leaking profusely from the head of Krycek's
cock as he tested it with the edge of his tongue.
"I said suck it, you motherfucker." Krycek's hand, still
clasping the black box, hooked the back of Skinner's head, forcing
his nose roughly into coarse, sweat soaked pubic hair. "I
don't want to see a drop of come either, asshole."
Holding Krycek's hips firmly with both hands, Skinner sucked hard,
nodding his head back and forth, sheathing the cock repeatedly
with his mouth until finally Krycek climaxed. Skinner obediently
swallowed the bitter seed.
Stumbling away from the car Krycek made good his escape, searching
for a corner where he could regroup his thoughts. God, Skinner's
mouth had been everything he'd imagined it would be. Inflicting
a little humiliation on the stiff shirted bastard was just the
sickly sweet cherry on the top. Pausing against a concrete column
to catch his breath his thoughts tumbled on. Yet ... his orgasm
hadn't been as powerful as last time. Thank god Skinner hadn't
paid too much attention to his reaction that night in Arlington.
He'd come spectacularly in his pants; with that kind of evidence
the tight assed AD might realise that what this errant agent really
wanted was more of the same.
Skinner waited, his head resting on the steering wheel, his mouth
swollen and bruised. Exhausted, he knew he had to get out fast,
get home and obliterate the evidence. A dark wet blemish was spreading
across the crotch of his trousers, pointing a cold accusing finger
towards his own body's betrayal.