mulder, it's me
Jun. 4th, 2003 03:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
axiom_of_stripe posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfictionwe have near-canonical phone sex from asylum. didn't that give anyone...ideas?
no, it's not kowalski/thatcher.
this time.
*****
Telephone Double-drabble: Call me Ray
Constable Turnbull sat erect at the front desk, back straight. His buttons were polished, his hair was combed, and he smiled pleasantly at nothing in particular: the very image of a diplomatic Canadian. He felt a little thrill of pride. When the telephone rang, he lifted the receiver promptly.
"Constable Turnbull, please," said the caller immediately.
"I am he, sir. And you've reached the Canadian Consulate. My name is Turnbull and I am a Const--"
"Are you wearing pants?"
"Of course not, sir."
"Are you jacking off?"
His breath hitched -- almost unnoticeably, he was sure, but there was a wicked chuckle down the telephone line to show that he had given himself away.
"Do it harder," the voice ordered, and Turnbull clenched his fist around his rock-hard cock.
"Yes, sir," he said softly, and began jerking in harsh, demanding pulls. His forearm slammed into the desk drawer and his rough breathing echoed down the empty hall. He climaxed almost at once, and sticky warmth dripped down his wrist and onto his thighs.
"Good man." The line clicked dead as Ray stepped around the doorway, cellphone dangling carelessly from his hand. "Oh yeah, I got the touch," Ray said.
END
no, it's not kowalski/thatcher.
this time.
*****
Telephone Double-drabble: Call me Ray
Constable Turnbull sat erect at the front desk, back straight. His buttons were polished, his hair was combed, and he smiled pleasantly at nothing in particular: the very image of a diplomatic Canadian. He felt a little thrill of pride. When the telephone rang, he lifted the receiver promptly.
"Constable Turnbull, please," said the caller immediately.
"I am he, sir. And you've reached the Canadian Consulate. My name is Turnbull and I am a Const--"
"Are you wearing pants?"
"Of course not, sir."
"Are you jacking off?"
His breath hitched -- almost unnoticeably, he was sure, but there was a wicked chuckle down the telephone line to show that he had given himself away.
"Do it harder," the voice ordered, and Turnbull clenched his fist around his rock-hard cock.
"Yes, sir," he said softly, and began jerking in harsh, demanding pulls. His forearm slammed into the desk drawer and his rough breathing echoed down the empty hall. He climaxed almost at once, and sticky warmth dripped down his wrist and onto his thighs.
"Good man." The line clicked dead as Ray stepped around the doorway, cellphone dangling carelessly from his hand. "Oh yeah, I got the touch," Ray said.
END
