The Century Suite

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Rating: NC-17 (smut & some language)

Summary: “Tell me, what do you do besides lure men to their doom at The Century Suite?”

Title: The Century Suite
Author: Folieadeux
Rating: NC-17 (smut & some language)
Pairing: Skinner/Other (female)
Spoilers: None
Feed’back’ n. 1. the transfer of part of the output back to the input, as of electricity or information 2. a response. Hell yeah! folieadeux98[at]gmail.com
Distribution: Anywhere. Please email me and keep all headers intact.

Disclaimer: Skinner belongs to 1013, not that they ever deserved him. Natalie is all mine. No infringement intended and no money made.
Notes: All my thanks and other assorted goodies at the end. But I must say up front that the germ of this idea came from what I consider to be one of the greatest seduction scenes ever filmed. Cary Grant and Eva Marie St. in Hitchcock’s N by NW. Can you spot it? Pssst, in art it’s not called stealing, it’s called homage.

xXx

The Century Suite
by: Folieadeux

Walter Skinner studied his reflection in the hotel room mirror. He was a conscientious dresser by nature without spending much energy on it. When he was satisfied, he grabbed his wallet and room key, ready to head downstairs.

He rarely attended the opening night cocktail parties at these conferences, but he was hoping to meet up with an old friend whose name he’d noticed as a scheduled speaker. Kimberly had only scheduled him for a one day workshop – he was due back in D.C. for an important meeting with the department heads. Usually, with so little time available, he would have skipped this conference, but the chance of catching up with a Vietnam buddy was more than he could pass up.

Tommy Carpenter was someone he’d met when he joined the Marines. They were the two youngest enlistees in their unit and they struck up a quick friendship. While Skinner came from a strict buttoned-down and serious family, Tommy’s life was the total opposite. His parents had been killed in a car accident when he was ten years old and he lived a large portion of his life in foster homes. He was wild and reckless and always ready for mischief. The endless days of grueling physical hardships, not to mention the long nights of drinking, partying, and fucking around still stood as some of the best times of Skinner’s life.

They served half their tour together before Tommy was shot during a nighttime reconnaissance mission scouting for tunnels. His injuries were serious and there was real doubt whether he’d make it. After a long recovery he was shipped home; Skinner didn’t see him again until after the war. They had gotten together a couple of times in the few years after they were both home, but like most people whose friendships were forged during that time, he found it hard to find time for it once you were back in the real world. Sometimes thinking back on it felt more like a shared hallucination than a shared reality.

Tommy had stayed in the military and done quite well for himself. The conference was on National Security and Criminal Law and Tommy was chairing a workshop on the military’s role in domestic terrorism. Skinner had left a message at the front desk for him about getting together for a drink. He hadn’t heard from him yet and he was hoping to lay eyes on him at the cocktail party downstairs.

Making his way through the lobby, Walter Skinner cut an impressive figure. He stood out among the majority of rather unfit, past their prime bureaucrats who usually attended these conferences. Working endless hours housed inside large cement government buildings, combined with too much fast food often made it difficult to avoid this fate.

Arriving in the ballroom, he made his way directly to the bar. “Scotch – double.” The young clean cut college student gave a mock salute as he quickly moved to fill his order. Skinner rested his elbow on the bar and turned to scan the already filled ballroom. Tommy was as tall as Skinner so he didn’t think it would be too difficult to locate him in the crowd.

“Looking for something?”

Skinner turned his head to see a woman sitting on the stool next to him. Attractive. “Excuse me?”

“You looked like you were looking for something in particular, that’s all.”

Skinner turned to face her. The bartender put his drink down in front of him, shot him an amused glance, and moved on. Yes, extremely attractive was exactly what he would call her. She was dark
complexioned with thick straight black hair cut bluntly to just above her shoulders. Her dark eyes were large and richly lashed, with one of those great noses straight from sculpture. He momentarily pictured himself running his index finger slowly from the bridge to the tip. Until he saw her mouth, then he pictured something else.

“A friend. I was looking for a friend.”

“I’m glad.”

“You are?”

“Sure. Friends are a fine thing. Maybe I can help you look, is your friend a man or a woman?”

“A man.”

“How nice.”

Before Skinner could comment further they were interrupted by one of those aforementioned unfit, past their prime bureaucrats. He was in an ill fitting nondescript gray suit with dark framed, dandruff flecked glasses resting on the tip of his nose.

“Natalie, here you are. There’s someone I think you should meet. He’s one of the leading specialists on the Midwest militia movements – come join us. I’m sure he’d spare you a moment of his time.”

Turning her attention from Skinner, to the new arrival, the woman looked slightly annoyed around the eyes, but her mouth smiled just the same.

“Hello Arnold. I was just having a conversation with Mr..”

“Skinner, Walter Skinner.”

“..with Mr. Skinner here.” She turned her face back towards Skinner and some of the irritation eased around her eyes. “Walter, this is my boss, Arnold Anderson.”

Reaching his hand out Skinner shook the man’s hand. Not the most powerful handshake he’d encountered but certainly the most animated. “Hello, Mr. Anderson.”

“Hello. Hello.” The man pumped Skinner’s hand energetically. “Do you work for law enforcement?”

Extracting his hand from the man, he said, “I’m an Assistant Director at the FBI.” Skinner did not miss the appreciative look as it passed over the woman’s face – anything FBI always impressed women. Unless of course, they were actually in the FBI, then they’re not so impressed.

Turning back to the woman, Arnold Anderson continued speaking as if nothing had happened. “Natalie, come with me, the gentleman I was talking about won’t be free forever.”

Before Skinner could try to maneuver around it, Arnold Dandruff Flakes had managed to spirit the woman away. She threw a frustrated glance over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd.

“Shit.”

“Too bad, man. She was a real looker.”

Skinner turned to see the bartender observing him with a conspiratorial smile. Using his glass, Skinner made a semi-friendly salute and waded out into the party. He made several loops around the ballroom, making small talk when the opportunity presented itself. He kept his eyes open for either his friend, or the woman. Neither made an appearance. When he’d had enough cocktail talk for one night, he made a discreet exit.

In the elevator, a brass plaque indicated that the hotel bar and dining room could be found on the top floor. The Century Suite. That didn’t sound bad. He was hungry and didn’t feel like eating dinner in his room. Neither did he feel like rubbing elbows with the masses in the ballroom. A split second decision, and he bypassed the button for his own floor and pressed the button for The Century Suite instead.

After speaking with the hostess, Skinner was led through the nearly deserted restaurant to a darkened area near the windows. Deciding on the fish, he placed his order, along with a request for another scotch. Satisfied and relaxed in a way only a good meal, combined with alcohol can accomplish, he mulled over the day’s events and his agenda for tomorrow.

“Hello there.”

He was looking out the window at the city when he heard her voice. Her reflection was standing beside his table; turning his head, he was thrilled to see her in the flesh.

“Hello yourself.”

After a couple of seconds just staring at her he realized he should quit being moronic and speak. “Would you care to join me?”

“It looks like I’m too late for dinner. Are you sure I won’t be keeping you?”

“I’m sure. Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you.”

Sitting down, she placed a small black silk bag on the table in front of her. The waiter materialized just as she was settled in her seat.

“Would you like a drink?” Skinner asked.

“Yes, red wine please.”

“Another for you, sir?”

“No. No, I’m good.”

As the waiter left with his finished plates, Skinner turned his attention back to the woman. She really was quite beautiful.

“You look vaguely familiar” she said.

“You feel you’ve seen me somewhere before?”

“Uh huh.”

“I often have that effect on people. It’s something about my face.”

“It’s a nice face,” she said, as the waiter returned with her wine and promptly made himself scarce.

“You think so?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

“Oh, you’re that type,” he said with a smile.

“What type is that?”

“Honest.”

She paused for a moment to take a drink of her wine. Smiling at him she said, “Not really.”

“Good, because honest women are a little frightening.”

That seemed to amuse her. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Somehow they seem to put me at a disadvantage.”

“Because you’re not honest with them?”

“Exactly.”

Skinner couldn’t believe he was saying this. This had to be the scotch talking. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “What I mean is, once you meet an attractive woman you have to start pretending you have no desire to sleep with her.” The lovely creature before him didn’t even flinch.

“What makes you think you have to conceal it?”

“She might find it objectionable.”

Her gaze remained level as she slowly toyed with her wine glass. “Then again, she might not.”

He was seriously enjoying himself now. He slowly leaned back in his chair and then promptly changed his mind and leaned forward, losing some of the distance between them. As he crossed his forearms on the table he tried not to grin like an idiot. “Don’t you think it’s time you introduced yourself?”

“My name is Natalie Kendall. I’m 35, unmarried, with no children. There, now you know everything.”

“Tell me, what do you do besides lure men to their doom at The Century Suite?”

“I’m a lawyer – don’t yawn – I’m not practicing anymore. I’ve recently started working with the local police department to create an identify theft division. Check fraud, stolen social security numbers, things like that.”

“Well, Natalie Kendall, not practicing lawyer, I’m glad you joined me.”

She mimicked his movement and leaned forward on crossed forearms. He could easily reach out and touch her face if he wanted to. Actually, he did want to, but he resisted.

She spoke. “You *did* ask, I wouldn’t want to be impolite.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“I told you, it’s a nice face.”

“You’re very beautiful.”

“Is that a proposition?”

“I never make love on an empty stomach.”

“You’ve eaten already.”

“But you haven’t.”

She smiled and took another sip of her wine. Skinner noticed her face seemed a little flushed. He wondered briefly whether she did this very often – not that he cared at the moment.

Sitting her wine glass on the tablecloth she said quietly, “I’m in room 453.”

“Such a nice number.”

“It’s easy to remember.”

“453” he repeated

“See.”

She reached out and lightly stroked his wrist with her index finger, then she stood up and proceeded to walk out of the restaurant leaving Skinner to stare at her empty chair. It was just as well, he thought, he doubted the bulge in his pants could be hidden behind a tiny little black bag.

He took his time paying the bill until he could get up from the table without embarrassing himself. Inquiring with the waiter for the nearest mens room he was directed back out to the hostess area. Upon entering the facilities he was pleased to see what he was looking for – a tastefully nondescript condom vending machine. Modern times, thank god. He wasn’t really in the mood to make a trip all the way down to the gift shop just to feel idiotic buying a package of condoms. Purchasing several (a man could always hope), he made his way out of the restaurant and to the elevator. He rode the elevator to the tenth floor, aware of a nagging feeling of trepidation. An interlude such as this had ended badly for him before, but he quickly put that out of his mind. He was a hell of a lot wiser now, he would not be fooled the same way twice. Still, he felt a little shaky by the time he arrived at her door. He took a deep breath and knocked on it anyway.

The door opened to reveal Natalie in an ankle-length silk robe. Her feet were bare and he could see burgundy polish peeking out on her toes beneath the hem. He didn’t know where to put his hands, so he crossed his arms and leaned a little into the doorframe. Her robe was a dark plum color, and he could see her nipples standing out against the shiny fabric. The dark red lipstick was gone, and in its place was something colorless and shimmery. He hadn’t thought her mouth could look any sexier, but what did he know.

“Hello. I see you found me.” Her smile was disarming and he found himself relaxing a little.

“Of course. What kind of a man would I be if I couldn’t remember something as simple as a room number?”

She laughed and invited him in. Her laugh was as disarming as her smile, and he walked in, feeling more confident by the second. He moved to stand in the middle of her room while she closed and locked the door behind him. Her room was virtually identical to his, but it had a certain something that women always bring to a space: perfumes, powders, little tubes of mystery items they carry everywhere. He was annoyed by the clutter of it when he was married; he found that he often missed it now that he wasn’t.

Natalie moved forward to stand in front of him. Reaching up, she began loosening his tie. “Relax, Walter. I won’t bite.”

He smiled down at her, his eyebrows lifting slightly.

“Okay, maybe a little. If you ask nicely.”

The timbre of her voice, combined with the nearness of her made it difficult for him to maintain his calm exterior. He leaned down to capture her mouth with his, and her hands stilled on his tie. Bringing his hands around her waist, he rested them on the curve of her bottom and pulled her in to his body. A sigh escaped her, and she gave up on his tie and wrapped her arms around him, gently caressing the back of his head with her fingertips.

They stood that way for a few moments, taking their time to enjoy the newness of it. Kissing is never so exciting as that first time, that first taste, where the other’s mouth seems filled with all sorts of unknown possibilities. After a few moments, Natalie brought her hands down to shrug Skinner out of his suit coat. He let it drop to the floor without protest. He was a conscientious dresser, but he wasn’t a fool. She went on with his tie. Soon, it fell to the floor with his coat.

Both a little breathless, they broke the kiss. Natalie began to work on the buttons of Skinner’s dress shirt. She pressed light kisses to each new piece of flesh she uncovered as she worked her way down the buttons. Skinner unexpectedly caught sight of their reflection in the dressing table mirror and was momentarily riveted. His face was flush and his mouth was reddened by friction. He watched Natalie in profile as she pressed her open mouth to his collarbone and gave it a little nip with her teeth.

Roused into action, he quickly scooped her up and walked towards the bed. She yelped at the unexpected movement and then let her head fall back and laughed out loud. Reaching the bed he gently dropped her onto the center with a bounce.

“Walter!”

The corners of his mouth flickered with amusement even as he sternly pointed a finger at her, “Don’t move.” Removing the condom packages from his back pocket, he tossed them onto the bed next to her.

“You brought me gifts?” she remarked in playful gratitude, a smile on her face as she picked them up from the bedspread. “Four, Walter? A little sure of yourself, don’t you think?”

“The FBI is always prepared.”

“I thought that was the Boy Scouts?”

“Whatever.”

Reaching over, she placed the foil packages on the nightstand. She rested on her side, head propped up with her hand, watching Skinner undress. Her robe was open and an alluring amount of skin was beginning to make an appearance. Removing his dress shirt and slacks, he laid them on the back of the chair by the window.

“Oh my,” Natalie said softly as she admired Skinner’s almost nude figure as he stood by her bed. “Now this is a picture I’ll not soon be forgetting.”

“You’re not doing so bad yourself.” He crossed his arms casually, studying her prone figure.

He watched her face as she examined his body. He could feel himself getting harder as she lowered her gaze to his crotch. She lifted her gaze back to his face and he made no attempt to hide the eager look in his eyes.

“Take off those shorts, FBI, and get your ass in this bed.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Shucking his briefs, Skinner crawled towards her on the bed. Sitting back, he reached for the tie of her robe. Her breathing deepened as he untied the sash and moved the robe aside to reveal her body. Her skin was the color of toffee, an occasional line of light meeting dark where her skin had been revealed to the sun.

Kneeling forward, he lightly swirled the circumference of her belly button with the tip of his tongue. She sucked in her breath as he blew on the moistened skin. Still kissing her belly and sides, he slowly pivoted his body until he was crouched above her. He placed a kiss on first one hip bone and then the other, blowing a little on her jet black pubic hair as he passed from one side of her to the other. She lifted her hips involuntarily and her body began to shift ever so slightly as he nipped at her flesh. Slowly, he made his way up her body until he reached the curve of her breasts. Her cocoa nipples were hard and puckered in anticipation of his mouth. Flattening his tongue, he took his time making wet paths around and over his intended destination, occasionally switching sides ensuring neither breast was neglected.

“Christ, Walter. You’re killing me.” Natalie’s voice was low and tinged with ache.

Skinner gladly enveloped her in his mouth and began to suck. The moaning response drifting in the air above him was assurance that his actions were appreciated.

Unable to remain passive any longer, Natalie began touching Skinner wherever she could reach. Pushing his head to take more of her, kneading his neck and gently tugging his ears. She scratched his upper back and shoulders at first lightly, then increased the pressure as Skinner growled in pleasure. When she pulled up her legs to wrap them around his waist he slowly moved up to take her mouth. She pressed her entire body into his and their mutual attempt at the slow tease was left behind. They fervently battled tongues and lips and chins without any concern for politeness. His attempts to mark her were met with an equally heated determination from her. Rolling them over to position Natalie above him, he held her tightly in his sturdy arms.

Pulling herself out of his grasp, she straddled him and sat upright. They were breathing loudly and the pressure of her sitting on his crotch made for a delicious pain. Letting his arms fall back by his head, he watched to see what she would do next. Bringing her hands up to cup her breasts, she brushed her thumbs over her nipples. Skinner held his breath in anticipation. Her hands languidly massaged her own breasts before making their way down her body, skimming her ribs and swirling over her abdomen. As she reached down to where their bodies came together he realized where her fingers were headed. He reached out to grab her wrist.

“Not so fast. I believe I have my own plans where that is concerned.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Absolutely.”

“Don’t I get to do anything?”

“It depends on what it is you want to do.”

With a slow smile, Natalie began sliding her way down Skinner’s thighs until she was resting between his legs on her knees. Reaching down, she firmly grabbed his erect cock with burgundy-tipped fingers and squeezed. “How about this?”

A sudden intake of breath followed instantly by a strangled groan was all the answer she got. Skinner brought both hands up from their resting place on his pillow to press firmly to the sides of his temples as he tried to regain his breath. He didn’t get much chance to accomplish this goal before she wickedly deep throated him.

“Fuck!” he barked to no one in particular as he saw little bursts of light before his closed eyelids.

Clearly, she didn’t let his loss of verbal control get in the way of her oral assault on his rock hard cock. Keeping her well-manicured fingers wrapped tightly around the base of his penis, she hungrily took him into her mouth over and over. Once his fisted fingers began to pull the sheets off the corners of the bed, she took her other hand and lightly began scratching his balls with her nails. The top half of Skinner’s body lifted off the mattress and he jerked his knees up, resting his feet on either side of her prone body. Unable to keep himself from handling her, he wrapped his large hands in her silky black hair and pumped into her mouth. He was close, and in only a few more strokes, his strangled voice began to warn her he was going to come.

Skinner’s skull felt like it was being blown up like a balloon and he threw his forearm over his mouth as he tried to muffle his bellow of enthusiasm. Later he would find a perfectly formed bite mark on his left forearm, one of many secretive breadcrumbs left on his body from that night.

Once Skinner regained his composure and his breath, he ventured a glance towards the dip in the mattress to his left. Laying on her side, a naked and beautiful Natalie was giving him a triumphant grin while resting her head on her prayer-pressed hands.

“That was so mean,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“Somehow, you don’t look that upset by my villainy.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“That’s precisely the point.”

“What are you, a lawyer?”

“Not practicing,” they said in unison and chuckled together at their cleverness.

“Really, Natalie. I’m sort of an old-fashioned guy and I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to have the mind blowing orgasm before I do.”

“It’s a long night, Walter. We still have time – besides, it’s not like you didn’t bring plenty of supplies.”

“True. Very true.” Sitting up, he glanced back at her. “I don’t know about you, but I’m a little sticky. Want to join me in a quick shower? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

They padded into the bathroom, and Skinner adjusted the water while Natalie grabbed their towels.

“Too hot?” he asked while she pulled the shower curtain closed behind her.

“No, it feels great.”

Skinner ducked under the spray while Natalie unwrapped the hotel soap. She turned him around, using his form to block the spray, and began to soap his chest and shoulders.

“I don’t think so, young lady. You’re not tricking me again.” Skinner took the bar of soap from Natalie and began to rub his hands together creating a soapy lather.

Letting him take the soap, she grinned and said, “Walter, do you have trust issues?”

Skinner didn’t have to answer – Natalie soon forgot she’d even asked the question. Turning her back to him, Skinner let her lean against his broad chest and took the opportunity to explore her body at his leisure. He massaged and soaped Natalie’s neck and shoulders while she made soft purring noises when he reached a particularly pleasant spot. He loved the way her skin slid under his slick hands as he enveloped her to reach around and massage her breasts and flanks. She let her head fall back and rest on his shoulder and she relaxed under his strong hands. From there he moved to her biceps and forearms, pulling her hands up and across her body to massage her wrists and fingers. Returning his concentration to her back, he made his way down her curved form: the ridge of her spine, the swirl of skin where her lower back turned into the top of her butt, her dimpled ass and that lovely little spot where the bottom curve of her butt met up with her upper thigh. Taking a slick finger, he traced the line below her ass and reached in between her legs to stroke her clit. Natalie quickly pitched forward, bracing her hands on the wall to steady her wobbly legs.

“Walter, you should warn a girl when you’re going to do something like that.”

“Okay – I’m warning you I might do something like that at anytime.”

“Fair enough.”

Skinner stood up straight and turned Natalie around to face him. He pushed her slowly backwards until she was leaning with her back up against the shower stall. She let out a little hiss as the cold tile came into contact with her skin. Reaching out he cradled her head in his large hands and brought his face to hers in a languid kiss. Their soap-slicked bodies glided against each other in the most exquisite manner. They took their time as steam filled the bathroom. Unwilling to stop kissing her, Skinner continued at a easygoing pace, while allowing his hands to roam. When his fingers finally reached her clit, Natalie groaned loudly and smacked her head back hard against the tiled wall. Her eyes opened in surprise only to meet Skinner’s amused, albeit concerned expression. Not so concerned that he stopped his fingers from gliding between her folds to brush a soapy finger over her clit.

“Are you all right?” he whispered as he kissed her collarbone.

“Is that a trick question?” she replied breathlessly.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, as he continued the slow circles with his index finger and switched his mouth from her neck to her breast. Natalie responded with intoxicated groans. Taking up the delightful task with his thumb now, Skinner used his middle two fingers to slide up inside her. Slowly he alternated the circling of his thumb and the slow thrusting of his fingers while continuing to kiss her wherever his mood and gravity allowed. At some point he had to return to her mouth in order to use the length of his body as leverage to keep her upright – any ability she had to control her limbs had long since left her.

As she began to whimper warnings of her impending orgasm, Skinner reached a strong arm around her waist and held her limp body against his own. Her head lolled back against the tile and he marveled at the beauty of her face as her own pleasure canceled out every other awareness. He placed small kisses on her nose and parted lips as she finally came for him with a cry.

His legs were starting to get fatigued but he didn’t particularly want to move away from her. Still dropping small kisses on her face, he waited for Natalie to return to earth. Her dark hair in wet strands against his chest and shoulder.

“Oh my god, Walter. What are you trying to do to me?”

“Pretty much anything I can get away with at this point.”

“We’re never going to get around to using those condoms.”

“Don’t bet on it.”

THE END

xXx

Author’s Note: This here little smut biscuit is my very first foray into NC-17 land. It’s also my first fully realized Skinner. Skinner was fun, but I think I’m done with the smut. It’s too difficult. How do all you fabulous smut writers ever survive the torture of it? My hat’s off to you.

This story is actually a part of a larger case file I’m currently flogging. My weekly geeky good time, Wench Teejay, informed me that I should post it separately as a tasty side dish. Being the obedient Wench I am… Voila!

Finally, I must thank Deslea. All hail the Goddess of Vulture Beta! OMG, getting her beta is a real pleasure. Now if I can just somehow trick her into doing it again…