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From: australla@aol.com (AUSTRALlA)
Subject: another X-Files story (mf)
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("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age
Eighteen, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
_________________________________________
Scroll down to view text
Archive name: X-FILES.txt
Authors name: Kirsten Berry
Story Title: The XXX-Files: A Personal Fantasy
Sender: kberry@starport.com (Kirsten Berry)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
This file contains sexual erotica. If you are not a consenting adult,
then please read no further, and delete this file now! Thank You!
------------------- From Kristen's collection ---------------------------
Please be gentle with me; this is A) my second post to this group and B) my
second attempt at writing erotica of any sort. (The first is a poem based
on my first bisexual experience; please let me know if you're interested in
seeing it.) compliments/constructive criticism/whatever is welcome.
BTW, after posting this here, would there be any legal restrictions on
sending this into Penthouse FORUM Magazine? (That was the original market I
intended this for, but I figured posting here would be more immediate
gratification.)
* * * *
It had all started as one more night singing karaoke at the bar when
the guy in the suit walked over and introduced himself. He was a casting
agent for the Fox television series THE X-FILES, and they were looking for
someone to play a childhood friend (and eventual love interest) of Agent
Mulder, played by David Duchovny. Would I be interested? One wildly
enthusiastic phone call to my husband later, I was on my way to Vancouver,
British Columbia, where the show is filmed.
At the initial script run-through, I settled in effortlessly,
developing an instant rapport with David, his co-star (or was that *our*
co-star?), Gillian Anderson, and the rest of the crew. In the evenings,
David and I went out for dinner and dancing, establishing a relationship
that quickly felt as though we *had* grown up together. Principal
photography for the episode began, and people couldn't help but notice the
electricity as David and I shot our scenes.
One afternoon as we were shooting exteriors, a thunderstorm blew
up unexpectedly, and the rest of the day's shoot was cancelled. Back at
the hotel, I stared out the window dejectedly. This was the first time my
husband and I had ever been apart for more than a day, and the first time
in all of my twenty-four years I had *ever* been outside my native California.
Never in my life had I felt so alone.
Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. It was David, script in
hand, wearing a tight white t-shirt and a pair of faded, ripped jeans that
fit like he had been born in them. I invited him in, grabbed my own script,
and offered him a drink. Diet sodas in hand, we sat on the edge of the bed
and started running lines.
Apparently, my mood didn't dissipate, for a few minutes later David
set down his script as I felt tears come to my eyes. "What's wrong?" he
asked, a look of genuine concern throwing a shadow across his boyish face.
Setting my glasses aside to wipe my eyes, I merely shook my head. "Hold me,
please," was all I said.
For a timeless space, we sat there, arms around each other, one of
David's hands gently caressing my face. Suddenly, I not so much heard as
felt David start to chuckle. I looked up at him bemusedly. "What?"
David just looked at me and smiled. "You know how the series motto
is 'The truth is out there?'" I nodded. "Well, the truth is I have never
wanted to do anything in my life as much as this." His mouth descended upon
mine, and we kissed, each of us instinctively knowing what the other wanted.
We needed no words then. Under my oversized poet blouse, David
found first my bare back, and then my bare breasts. I closed my eyes and
sighed contentedly as his long, slender fingers expertly played with my
nipples. We continued kissing as he helped me out of my clothes. As I
stepped out of my skirt and panties and lay back on the bed, David's fingers
ran up the inside of my thighs until he found my fiery liquid center. With
two fingers deep inside me and a thumb on my clit, he played me as Segovia
played the guitar, starting softly, then building to a crescendo rendering
me incapable of anything else as I screamed my release.
Still fully clothed, David sat beside me on the bed, gently stroking
my breasts and belly until my breathing returned to normal. Sitting up, I
reached for him, but he stood and crossed the room with a cautioning gesture
and a mischevious smile. Taking the basket of complimentary hotel goodies,
David rummaged through the contents and sat back down, tossing a package of
condoms on the bedside table. Smiling, we melted into another embrace.
I pulled off David's shirt and began nibbling my way down his smooth
chest. I opened his jeans and slid them over his firm ass and well-muscled
legs, revealing a pair of dark blue bikini briefs that were fighting
valiantly to contain his straining manhood. The battle was futile, however,
and I relieved them from duty, much preferring to take matters--and David--
into my own hands. Oh, how I wanted to taste him! I knew, though, that that
was not a risk worth taking, so I reached for a condom and opened the wrapper.
Staring into David's deep blue eyes, I placed the condom over the
head of his cock. Using only my mouth, I rolled it over his full length,
savoring the way it felt. David wound his fingers into my long hair, moaning,
as I lazily worked my way back up his beautiful shaft. Pulling away, I
settled back on the bed, holding my arms out to him.
Like a man possessed, David crawled onto the bed. We kissed, gently
at first, then with a savage urgency as he entered me. We were consumed by
a fire of passion--there was no holding either of us back. David slammed
into me in a way that, somewhere in the back of my crazed mind, I knew would
leave me bruised from navel to knee, but I simply did not care. I matched
his brutal rhythm thrust for thrust, clawing his back, crying out his name,
with my legs locked around his. A triumphant shout signalled David's
impending orgasm, and his hips began moving at an impossible speed. David's
climax triggered my own, and I sank my teeth into his shoulder in an animal
fury.
We spent the night in each others arms, reluctantly parting only so
David would be in his room for his wake-up call to avoid arousing suspicion.
("I think we aroused plenty of other things tonight," he laughed, deftly
avoiding the pillow I threw at him.) The weather cleared that morning, and
shooting resumed. Everyone agred that the scenes David and I did that day
were the best yet. David just looked at me and smiled. "We put in some long
hours last night," was all he said.
---------------------------------
I readily admit this is extraordinarily vanilla, but it's what I came up with.
Remember, I *did* say I had originally written this for Penthouse.:)
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