Mulder in the Morning by Laura Castellano Feedback to laurita_castellano@yahoo.com Rating - NC-17 (mild, it's really probably only R) Disclaimer - not mine, never were, never will be (and that's a damn shame!) Archive - sure, g'head Summary - Scully's morningthoughts... ----- Mulder in the Morning by Laura Castellano He lies on his stomach. It's funny, he never starts out that way, but almost every single morning when I awaken, I find him in this position, on his stomach, head turned toward the right, his right hand balled into a loose fist and tucked beneath his shoulder. Today he is naked, and the skin of his back is smooth and golden, and all I want right now is to kiss my way down from his shoulders to the dip in his lower back. He is sensitive there, always shivering when my lips touch that part of him. It makes me feel powerful, being able to drive that tremor from him, and I want to do it now, but first-- First I allow my eyes to wander down a bit, to the point where the sheet covers his perfect--everything about Mulder is perfect, but nothing quite so superb as his ass. I can never get enough of watching it move, either clothed or naked. He thinks I trail behind him because my legs are shorter and I can't walk as fast, but in truth, I am just admiring the view. I drink it in now, remembering how the sheet got so twisted earlier this morning when he awakened me, overcome with passion, and proved to me yet again how important I am in his life. I haven't had a lot of lovers, but I've had enough to know that Mulder is a wonder. Not because he can take me to orgasm multiple times--lots of men can do that, it's simple mechanics-- but in the way he *gives* so much of himself. He is a truly unselfish lover, and that is the unusual thing. He isn't concerned with his "performance" or in impressing me with his size or his prowess. He simply wants to love me, physically, emotionally, in every way he can, and he wants me to love him. And I do. Once we began our intimate relationship, our love overflowed in ways I never expected. Suddenly, more so than ever before, everything in my life is Mulder. He is the sun and the moon and the stars and the night and the day. Most of all he is the morning, beautiful morning, that gives me a new reason to live every single day. I shake my head at my own sappiness, but it's early in the morning yet. I haven't had my coffee, so I suppose it's allowed. Besides, I doubt any woman could look at Mulder in this condition and not feel the same. My eyes have made their way past the tangle of the bed covers to his beautiful bare feet, perfect feet which hold an imperfect man to a path of rigorous integrity. He is a man of whom I can be proud, and for a moment I feel a tightness in my throat. I wish my father could have known him. The sunshine makes its way in from the window and just touches his hair, frosting it with gold, making him look almost angelic. You would never know, looking at him now, how sensuous he can be, and I am reminded of my mother telling me that all boys appear innocent while sleeping. Mulder is anything but innocent; he is exactly the way I want him to be. His face is unshaven, and I suddenly want to run my fingers over the stubble there, feel the gentle roughness and then feel myself go all warm and tingly when he touches my fingertips with his tongue. I want to see his eyes blink open sleepily, with that green tint they always have first thing in the morning, and I want to see him smile at me the way he always does when we awaken beside each other. I could call to him, or smooth back the piece of hair that falls enticingly across his forehead, but I am growing warm, examining him from head to toe this way. Instead, I lean over carefully, slowly, and touch my lips to his lower back... He stirs, and I am heading toward heaven. End ----- Ok, I know, it was sappy, but I'm in a mood today ;)