("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( 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 work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1997. Please do not remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non- commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. ------------------------------------------------------ The XXX-Files: A personal Fantasy by Kristen Berry 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 intro- duced himself. He was a casting agent for the Fox tele- vision 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 effort- lessly, 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 re- lationship that quickly felt as though we *had* grown up together. Principal photography for the episode began, and people couldn't help but notice the elec- tricity as David and I shot our scenes. One afternoon as we were shooting exteriors, a thunder- storm 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 compli- mentary hotel goodies, David rummaged through the contents and sat back down, tossing a package of con- doms 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 beauti- ful 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.:) _____________________________________________________ Kristen's collection - Directory 6