TITLE: The Shower Scene
AUTHOR: Amazon X, using Meg's Character Rachel
EMAIL: Amazon X, Meghan O'Connor
FEEDBACK: Please! The more I get, the more you get!
DISCLAIMER: The LGM and anyone else you recognize are 1013's.
However, Rachel Ann MacGregor belongs to Meghan O'Connor.
SPOILERS: The X-Files, all up to the last season finale, and the LGM
SYNOPSIS: Rachel and Frohike do the wacky. Our Wonder Elf finally
gets on the receiving end of Rachel's needs.
NOTES: Amazon X wrote this, with only minor character suggestions from
me. I am eternally grateful to her for such a wonderful chapter in
Rachel' s existence, and for telling a story that makes me sweat!
Story follows my "Tormented by the Wonder Elf" set.
Rachel awoke from her nap on the couch by Langly slamming both hands
on the workbench he sat in front of. He had retired to play online
D&D, drunk, which would make it more interesting. This would finally
give him a handicap.
Rachel crawled off the couch and climbed the stairs to the living
space. The vodka had gone to her head and the thoughts of Frohike's
voice in her head, saying those words, telling her that story,
reverberated down her spine. She needed to splash cold water on her
face to hopefully help her sober up. There was a buzzing in her head
and it got louder as she stumbled through the bathroom door. Who
left the light on?
Then she realized, the buzzing was the sound of the shower running.
Frohike was in the shower. She walked back to his room and saw it
suspiciously empty. His boots and socks were on the floor. His
gloves were on the bed. It dawned on her, this was her chance.
Screwing up her courage, she stopped in the guest room she slept in
sometimes, having their trust, and shed her jeans and t-shirt. She
listened out the door and knew Langly was engrossed in his computer
game. The bra and panties fell to the floor and she padded to the
The bathroom door creaked. Frohike stopped, mid stroke. Who was
there? All he wanted to do was get a little relief in the shower,
alone. Couldn't Langly leave him alone? That boy could pee anywhere
and in front of anyone. But there was no sound.
"Who's there?" he called out.
Fear gripped the little man as he stood under the warm spray, dick-in-
hand, hard as a rock. No, no, no, you can't be there, his mind
screamed. You have to leave!
The curtain was thrown back. She stood there, completely naked,
staring at him. Her eyes traveled down, then slowly back up, pausing
pregnantly on his engorged member. She stepped into the bathtub and
pulled the curtain closed behind her. She looked into his eyes.
She could blame the alcohol. She could blame the passion of the
story. But she would not lose her nerve and retreat from where she
stood. She couldn't afford to live with might-have-been.
Frohike stood up against the wall of the bathtub, pressed as far back
as he could go. His hands were spread on the cool tiles as the warm
water sprayed on him. Her cat-like green eyes were trained on him.
There was a predatory gleam in them. He was almost frightened. His
hard on was pointing out at her and she reached for him. The water
gave her enough lube to slide over his skin, pumping him slowly.
Frohike got a good look at her. Her hair was out of its usual French
braid, a mass of copper curls, darker than Scully's and longer,
falling to mid-back. She was standing in the shower spray and the
water sensuously rippled over her pale flesh. Frohike could see the
blush of raw sexual energy spreading over her pert little breasts.
Her pink nipples stood out to him, begging for hands, or a mouth.
His eyes scanned further down and he smiled widely: the carpet
matched the drapes.
Rachel braced her hands on the wall on either side of Frohike's
shoulders, leaning in for a kiss. She took his mouth in a searing
kiss, forcing Frohike to realize, this was going to happen. She was
actually naked before him, actually kissing him and actually intended
to make love to him. His hands slowly moved to her waist, touching
tentatively, then holding tightly, his fingers digging into her
skin. It was soft, pliable, not stiff and hard. She was slender,
athletic, but not heavily muscular. She was all feminine, with cat-
like lines to her legs and back.
Arching against his body, Rachel felt him slide between her thighs.
Their height difference, although not much, was an interesting
issue. He wasn't tall enough for stand-up in the shower, but she
gripped him with her thighs, implying she would give him release.
Moving against him, feeling his cock throb against her skin, her
tongue pressed into his mouth. Pumping against him, Rachel reveled
in his hands coming up to her breasts, stroking and playing with her
nipples. Whimpering, she turned off the water. He looked at her.
"Shall I dry you, Mel?"
He nodded mutely. She led him out of the tub to the bathmat. The
towels were soft against her skin and she rubbed it over her skin,
sensuously. She reached out and began mopping the water from
Frohike's skin. He stood there, allowing her to dry him, like a
baby. She kissed his shoulders and neck, his fur tickling her lips.
Their hands roamed each other, kisses following hands. She wrapped
the towel around his back and pulled him from the bathroom to his
The warehouse was quiet. One could hear Byers softly snoring off his
six-pack and Langly swearing at the "bastard Elves" in the offices
down the stairs. Rachel closed Frohike's door behind them and locked
it. She tossed the towel on the floor and stood before him in the
dim light. The alcohol buzz had worn off for her, but she wouldn't
turn away. This was going to happen. She waited long enough.
Returning to kissing him, she groped around his dresser with a free
hand, finding what she sought. She slid them on his hands, knowing
he wouldn't be comfortable without them. The leather was soft,
molded to his hands, and she wanted them all over her body. Ever
since she had begun to see Frohike as the sexy little man he was, she
wanted those gloves on her skin. They were part of his mystique and
it wouldn't be the same without them.
Rachel backed up to the bed, taking Frohike with her, to lay back
with him. He crawled up to lay on her, between her legs. She ran
her hands over his back, thinking how he was her little bear. He
discovered exactly how she liked to be touched, the sensitive spot on
her shoulder at the base of her neck where he flicked his tongue, to
stroke her nipples and not pinch them. One hand slid down her belly,
finding its way to the junction of her thighs, where behind neatly
trimmed copper curls lay paradise. He stroked the mound gently at
first before venturing a finger down to the lips.
Rachel gasped and ground her hips against his hand, against that
sweet leather, as he stroked her lips, touched her clit, slid inside
her wetness. Rachel reciprocated, grabbing his shaft and stroking
him again. Pre-cum moistened the tip and she used it to slide on him
easier. They moved together, hoping not to come before the other
did. Frohike, at his almost end, pulled his hand from her and licked
his fingers. He moved her hand from him and lay it on the bed.
Pulling her legs up under the knees, he positioned himself and slid
right into her. Rachel threw her head back into the pillows and
yelped, not expecting him to be so big. Not to mention, it had been
a long time since she was so completely filled.
"Oh, God, Mel, you are fucking huge," she moaned.
He smiled and growled in her ear, biting the lobe. He began moving
in her, pumping into her. He was sexy, he was beautiful, he was
worthy of a woman moaning his name and he would make her happy, as
she attempted to find out. He swirled inside her, moving back and
forth, in and out, varying his rhythm. Being older had its
advantages, he thought. You can control yourself , and you have more
knowledge to please your partner. Something he fully intended to
teach her right now.
Rachel moved under Frohike, trying to make herself come for him. But
Frohike picked up on her and continued his teasing onslaught. His
hands roamed over her, the leather tickling her thighs and breasts
and belly. She squeezed her ass, making her rise up to him. Their
kisses were sloppy and wet, drunk with alcohol and sex. Rachel began
squeezing him inside her, making it feel better for herself, not
realizing she was breaking down his control. He moaned in her ear
and grunted with each thrust, showing how close he was. Rachel moved
her knees up until he hit that sweet spot that made her almost whine,
knowing her own orgasm was just right there…and she fell back against
the bed, wave after wave of heat and light and love washing over
her. She moved against Frohike, grinding on him to get just one more
contraction of pleasure and he grabbed her shoulders, groaning in her
ear, "Oh, shit, I'm coming," and he began pushing into her.
She felt him spilling into her, wet and sticky. She didn't care they
forgot a condom. She didn't care that he didn't know it wouldn't
matter. She only cared that he was coming deep within her, holding
her, stroking her arms with his leather, kissing her cheeks and neck
gently. They lay together a few minutes. Their hearts slowed and
beat together. He leaned up on his elbows and looked down into her
eyes. With his glasses still in the bathroom, he was glad they were
face to face. They smiled at each other.
"What am I gonna do with you, little lady?"