God, the heat of it. It was so intimate, skin on skin, Alex's beautiful
long-fingered hand coaxing
shudder after shudder out of him. Mulder felt his spine shift, felt
himself shift, as his back arched and
dipped and his hips lifted. Every time the palm of Alex's hand impacted
with his ass it started a wave
rolling inside him, and he rolled with the wave and it brought him
round and about and up again to
meet the next slap, oh god, so good.
He was breathing harshly, open-mouthed, and when he spread his legs
wider the blows stung the
insides of his thighs too, just the way he wanted. He moaned softly,
and felt Alex's other hand
suddenly clamp down on the back of his neck. "You're so pretty now,"
a tender whisper as another
harder blow rocked him, "ass in the air, you really want this, you
want it bad." Three quick, stinging
slaps made his breath catch and he felt the beginnings of the hot coiling
sensation that would twist him
into orgasm. "Go on, move your hips, show me you like it."
And he did, launching himself into a wildness of demanding surrender,
showing everything, holding
nothing back, fuck it was so good, it was wonderful, hard and fast
and hot, his skin was alive, all of
him was so alive he wanted to scream with the pleasure of it. When
it stopped, he couldn't believe it;
he arched, and growled between his teeth, wanting more. "What the fucking
hell do you think
you're—"
One more hard slap stopped the words, then Alex let go of his neck and
tugged at his body, moving
him until he was kneeling across his lover's legs, facing the foot
of the bed. Alex ran one hand
appreciatively over his ass, stopping for the occasional pinch in a
sensitive spot. Then the other hand
returned too, slick-fingered and demanding, stroking the willing entrance
to his body and then
probing it.
Mulder made a sound low in his throat as one finger became two. And
then three, and those three
fingers fucked him slowly, in and out, opening him up, while Alex's
free hand stroked and caressed
and then suddenly slapped him again. He moaned again, louder this time,
and rocked back against
Alex's fingers. When those fingers were withdrawn he bit down on a
sound of protest, and stayed
silently hopeful. Alex pushed him forward a little, then caught his
hips with one hand and pulled him
back again.
"Come on, Mulder. Sit on it."
He gasped, tensing his thighs, as he felt the head of Alex's cock press
against him, into him. Mulder
started to work himself down on it with slow pushing screwing motions,
rolling his hips in careful
spirals, feeling himself open up more and more as gravity and desire
conspired to let him take Alex
inside. "Yeah, that's good..." The living pulsing hardness in him,
in his ass, yes; he twisted and
tightened his muscles around it and heard Alex gasp.
"Fuck yeah... go on then," another slap, not so hard now, "go on, fuck
yourself, move your tight ass,
bitch—" He tensed, rose up and slid down again, anchored on the hard
flesh embedded in his own,
again and again, fucking himself, screwing himself, yes, screwing,
that slow screwing grinding
downward motion that let him take Alex in so deep... yes... god yes...
His ass burned. His whole body burned. Throwing his head back, he moved
faster, and closed a
hand around his own erection, stroking himself towards completion.
"You touching yourself, Mulder?" Hard hands closed around his arms.
"Don't you fucking touch
yourself..." His hands were pulled behind his back, twisted into place
there. "This is all you get, you
better work your ass till you come," another tug on his arms, almost
painful, "you hear me?"
"I hate you," he whispered, hips bucking. The strain in his arms was
good too, pulling him taut,
drawing him down, making his back arch. He was trapped in the closeness
of them; the world ended
at the borders of their skin. Reality was his own panting breaths,
the fingers digging into his wrists.
"Sure you do." Reality was the hard cock inside him, and his own aching
erection. He shifted up and
drove himself down, impaled himself again and again, aware that he
was being noisy but incapable of
caring—as if Alex couldn't tell anyway how badly he wanted this, needed
it.
It wasn't going to work, he couldn't come like this... pressing down
he felt that incredible stretching,
muscle-tugging sensation that radiated through his pelvis and tightened
his balls... not like this, his
thighs ached, all of him ached, and he needed more than this, more
than just that feeling, that
friction, the tantalizing slide over his prostate when he moved like
this—
"Oh god oh god oh god ohgodohgod—" He threw his head back and howled
as his body twisted, far
beyond his conscious control, a mindless rush towards the promise of
pleasure. Hands tightened
around his wrists and he sobbed out loud and time grew slow and smooth
like jelly and he was there,
there, here, yes, "yes, Alex!" The flame raced up the fuse of his
spine, lingered a moment at the
back of his neck, and then his head exploded.
He was held, drawn back to slump in exhaustion against his lover's body.
Hands stroked him,
gathered him in, gave him shape again. Mulder sucked in air. "You alive?"
The teasing question was
followed by a suggestive movement of hard flesh within him, and he
whimpered softly. Even now,
sated and exhausted, his body knew that movement and responded to it.
"You know, I like your
back, it's very expressive... I can tell by your shoulder muscles when
you're going to come."
Alex urged him up and their bodies parted. Mulder fell forward instead,
on his hands and knees, and
felt the blood rush back into his calves and feet. A few moments later
Alex's weight was on him,
pressing him down to lie flat, knees pushing his legs apart. He tilted
his hips against the searching
pressure of his lover's hard cock and felt a liquid, gliding dizziness
as it slid back into him, easily,
deeply. Alex grunted and pressed even deeper, his fingers biting into
Mulder's upper arms.
"Don't call me," the air wheezed out of him as Alex thrust hard, "don't
call me bitch again." Another
hard thrust, slow but relentless.
"Why not?" Sharp teeth nipped his shoulder. He spread his legs wider,
pushing back against Alex,
enjoying the sensation. Scattered sparks of renewed desire pulled together
to burn slowly in his ass,
in his cock, building in his throat like a moan. "You get off on it.
Just stop being embarrassed by it
afterwards," a harder thrust slapped against his buttocks and he felt
the heat there flare up again. Alex
laughed softly in his ear. "But if you stopped being embarrassed, it
wouldn't turn you on any more,
would it." The next two thrusts were slow and languid. "Tell me to
fuck you harder, Mulder."
He sucked in air between his teeth, tried to keep his hips from twisting
and demanding more. "Why?"
"Because you want me to." Slow, so slow, pushing into him, then pressing
hard when they were fully
joined. He was getting hard again. He wanted to open himself up, turn
himself inside out, be touched
everywhere at once. "Because you know how good it will feel."
And he did. He knew that very well. Mulder tried to resist the casual
certainty of Alex's voice, but his
body had already surrendered. The next deep and thorough stroke drove
the air out of his lungs and
he groaned and arched up, back, only to have Alex pull away. "Bastard..."
"Oh, so it's all right if you call me names." Alex bit the back of his
neck. The small, sharp pain
contrasted nicely with the diffuse pleasure spreading through him.
Mulder squirmed.
"Harder," he said softly. Alex bit him again, setting a new teeth mark
next to the first one, and Mulder
closed his eyes and moaned. "Harder... Alex... ow... fuck me harder,
damn it."
And then he gasped in helpless delight as Alex did fuck him harder,
hard and fast, steady strokes that
hammered him into a shape that was familiar by now, and new each time.
Sometimes, when he could
think, he would think about the fact that Alex was different from any
other lover he'd ever known.
Sometimes when he couldn't think, he would cry out wordlessly, and
ask for more and more and
more and more, and it would be given to him.
He let himself be directed by that unwavering, remorseless pace, alternately
yielding to it and
struggling against it as his body sought to maximize its own pleasure.
His muscles fought, flexed,
liquefied, tightened again; his eyes were closed, fingers gripping
the sheets, teeth sunk into his lower
lip. Perfect, he thought wildly and pushed back, passion flaring as
sore reddened skin pressed against
the casual strength of Alex's downward pressure. On the next thrust
he let himself be shoved into the
mattress and felt the uneven friction of wrinkled cotton against his
cock.
It was too good to last, too good for him to resist and Alex would not
let up but kept pushing him on,
driving into him, forcing him towards release. He thought about trying
to hold back and delay the
inevitable ending, but Alex had him pinned down and every move he made
sent another shockwave
of escalating pleasure through him. There was no escape, thank god,
there was no escape at all.
Mulder sobbed quietly, held together by the hard grip on his arms even
as he was split open, laid
bare, his secret delights revealed.
Now, please, he tried to say, now, you have to make me come now or I'm
going to die, Alex,
please—
Everything was out of his hands, and he shuddered, tried to find his
voice, to cry out loud. Nothing
changed either when he moved or when he yielded. Alex went on fucking
him steadily, the only
variation an occasional bite to his neck or shoulder. It was the very
opposite of their previous
coupling, where Mulder had been turned loose to find his own pleasure;
here he had no choice but to
accept it. And Alex was oh, so thorough in giving it to him...
Please, the word did not take shape but he moaned out loud, oh please.
He didn't know what he was
pleading for when Alex was all but forcing pleasure on him, could not
want anything beyond release.
When he opened his eyes he saw his own hands, white-knuckled and tight
with silent begging. The
next thrust drove him back into darkness. He was breathing harshly,
irregularly, and the slick hard
glide within him did not pause or falter. Oh god, please!
It came over him suddenly as summer lightning, pinpricks of fire sparking
under his skin, along his
shoulderblades, in the small of his back, around the straining muscles
of his calves. They drew
together and struck deep into the core of him where the hammered pulse
of delight had reached and
tormented him, and he stopped thinking of resistance or surrender,
stopped thinking, swept by fire
from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head. If he cried out,
he never knew, but he felt the
shivered release, the hot spurting wetness that clung to the sheets
and to his belly.
Oh, he thought again, but differently now, floating lazily, his only
anchor the steady presence of Alex
within him, the pace that had stayed the same the whole time. Now,
though, he felt the gathering ache
in the body that pressed into his, as the thrusts turned slower and
longer and rougher, as fingers bit
harder into him, felt the moment of supreme tension and utter dissolution,
heard the short, raw cry
that was all the noise Alex ever permitted himself.
Even that tiny crack in his lover's self-control was deeply fascinating
to Mulder, who held Alex tighter
with his body, hoping to squeeze more out of him, some further concession
to pleasure. He abruptly
realized he couldn't bear the thought that Alex did not experience
the same tearing, sharp-edged
ecstasy that he did.
With Alex's full weight on him, he lay happily flat, in a state of liquid
contentment that almost made
him believe his body was as soft and comfortable under Alex's as the
mattress was under him.
Minutes passed slowly, before Mulder felt Alex gather himself up again,
arms tightening around him,
teeth nipping at his earlobe.
"That was good," Alex said, his voice a husky purr. "Bitch," he added
thoughtfully with a last slow
thrust before pulling out and falling bonelessly to one side.
Mulder turned quickly, tensing up so fast his muscles snapped and complained,
and looked at Alex's
face. The small smile he found was more teasing than reassuring, although
perhaps meant to be both.
About to say something, he held off for a moment, listening to his
body, the lingering sweetness, the
burning heat of his buttocks.
"You think I'm repressed."
"I think you're beautiful, Mulder." Alex tugged him close, pulled Mulder's
head down to rest on his
shoulder. Mulder closed his eyes and relaxed again, pressed closer,
licked the sweat from Alex's
neck. "I think you're beautiful in your high-fashion Armani camouflage,
ties and all. I think you're
beautiful on your hands and knees with my hand coming down on your
ass." A slow chuckle ruffled
Mulder's hair. "And when I call you bitch and you look at me that way...
like you want to hit me, and
you want to ask me to spank you again. That's absolutely fucking gorgeous,
Mulder."
"Tell me more," he demanded, biting at Alex's neck, worrying at the
flesh and skin between his teeth.
"Tell me what you like, tell me why you like it."
"Such amazing subtlety," Alex said, amused. "All those psych classes
really paid off... Anyway, do
you mean you want to know what I like about you, or just, you know,
what I like in general, like day
lilies or Nine Inch Nails?"
"I didn't know you were interested in botany. Or carpentry," he added
to hear Alex laugh. "I want to
know what you like in bed."
"I thought that was pretty obvious." A single fingertip trailed slowly
down, bumping over every rib.
Mulder, ticklish but relaxed, only squirmed a little. "I like you
in bed. I like it a lot," there was that
faintly purring tone of voice that had first seduced Mulder, made him
look more closely at his new
partner.
"That's not what I meant."
"No..." Alex was less easy now. "What would you do if I confessed to
harboring fantasies that
involved see-through raincoats and egg beaters?"
"Well, there's an egg beater in the kitchen somewhere, but we'd have
to go shopping for the
raincoat." Mulder reluctantly lifted himself up on one elbow so that
he could look down at Alex,
study the other man's face, that had become so suddenly intimately
familiar. "I just want to be sure
you're having a good time."
Alex closed his eyes. "Because I give you what you want and it disturbs
you afterwards, so you want
to be able to do something for me that would disturb me, to make
you feel better. I'm sorry,
Mulder, but I'm not carrying around as much sexual guilt as you are,
you'll just have to live with that."
"Fuck you." Mulder sat up and scrubbed irritably at his face, then pushed
his hand back through his
hair, grooming himself in short precise movements like an insulted
cat. Sitting made him aware once
again of hot, sensitized skin, but now the feeling was vaguely unpleasant,
unwelcome. "I'm happy
you're so well adjusted. I also think you can get the hell out of my
bed and find someone else to
practice sexual therapy on."
"Oh, please." Alex did not move. He lay where he had fallen, one arm
still curved around the ghost of
Mulder's body. "I like doing things for you, okay? I get off on it.
Don't try to make it any more
complicated."
"You started it. And when you're dealing with the human sexual response,
simplicity is a myth." Then
Mulder couldn't help grinning, and the act of stretching his mouth
in a smile took the edges off his
annoyance. "So you're saying you get a kick out of being my sex toy."
"Yeah." Alex returned the smile with interest, and shifted one hand
to brush against Mulder's back.
So he didn't really want a fight, either. Mulder let himself lean back
again, sinking gradually into the
embrace of mattress, sheets, and Alex's arms.
"In that case," he purred, "about the egg beater..."
Alex's hand came down just hard enough to sting. "Leather yes, handcuffs
yes, jam and honey yes,
lacy underwear if you insist. But no kitchen implements. I'm kind of
old-fashioned that way."
"I'd do it for you," Mulder said with his best air of offended sincerity.
"Some sex toy you are."
"Mulder—"
Alex grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him into a kiss
that seared its way into him and
started a slow burn of renewed desire in the pit of his stomach. If
it had not been for the hard grip of
Alex's hand he would have shaken his head incredulously; it was too
soon, far too soon. Another kiss
made the tightening heat sink lower, blood gathering to heat and harden
him. Much too soon. But
Alex had only come once so far, and it really wasn't fair. "Let's go
take a shower," he suggested as
soon as he could break his mouth free.
"I was just getting comfortable," Alex objected, grinding against him.
"What do you want to take a
shower for?"
Mulder licked at Alex's jaw and scraped his tongue; he wound his way
towards the ear. "So I can
press you up against the wall under the water and get on my knees in
front of you and take your cock
in my mouth and suck it hard and taste you when you come."
"Very succinctly put," Alex said. "I think you've convinced me." He
turned his head and brushed his
lips over Mulder's. His eyes sparkled with lust and mischief, a glittering
cover over the darkness
below, as he added an affectionate, "Slut."
By Any Other Name
by Torch
The first firm slap could have been a caress gone wrong, hard but not
cruel, warming his ass. It sent
ripples along his skin, tiny electric tendrils that spread out and
then drew together again, closing up his
throat, tightening his nipples, making his cock heavy and hard between
his legs. The second doubled
the effect of the first. Mulder drew his breath in and let his head
fall forward, and as if that had been
some signal previously agreed on between them, Alex started spanking
him in earnest, sharp regular
slaps spaced with amazing precision over his ass and the backs of his
thighs.
