TITLE: Scent of a Woman IV--Tiramisu (1/4) 
AUTHOR: Terma99 
EMAIL: terma99@aol.com 
DISTRIBUTION: Gossamer-YES! 
Clinique's Chaos, XFFFA-YES! 
Anywhere else-YES! But be kind and let me know about it. 
SPOILERS FOR THIS SERIES: Triangle/Dreamland/Monday 
RATING: NC-17 (it's about time already!) 
CLASSIFICATION: MSR 
SUMMARY: Our beloved agents bring those flights of fantasy to life. 
POST DATE: 9/25/99 

MY NOTES: This is the final part IV of a four part MSR titled "Scent of 
a Woman." Please read stories in order for maximum "effect." 
Scent of a Woman I 
Scent of a Woman II-The Nest 
Scent of a Woman III-Dinner 
Scent of a Woman IV-Tiramisu 

and coming in a few days... 
Atoll--a sort of sequel. 

To find missing installments, visit: 
www.geocities.com/hotsprings/8334/fic.html 
Scent is under the MSR/RST section. 

SPECIAL THANKS: to my suck 'o meter monitors: Sue (my alpha 
beta who was kind enough to give this fic a squidge factor of 15), 
Susanne (for all her ROTFL comments), Lydia (for dubbing me " 
oral queen"), Kel (for the ::thuds::), Robbie (for entertaining 
the Flying Elvi and getting the dessert on the right fingers), and 
Deb (for doing a panic beta on a Sunday afternoon). This fic 
would not have been possible without them. Give 'em a hand! 

DEDICATED: To all the rabid Scent readers who have begged, 
threatened and screamed for me to finish this over the entire 
seven month process. Sorry it took so long. I tried to make it 
worth the wait. 

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Moose and Squirrel, but tonight 
I'm letting them make that naked pretzel. All regards to 1013, 
FOX, and such for providing the fodder for my dirty little mind. 

FEEDBACK: Send me a Mulder clone! 
Terma99@aol.com 

PS: This fic was brought to you by the makers of Julia Has 
Two Lovers. Now I've been at this for quite some time now, 
and thought I had been inspired by every last second of film 
that has ever been graced by Mr. Duchovny's succulent bod. 
Somehow I MISSED this one. I don't know how--I don't know 
why. But don't ask how many times I watched David bounce 
up those stairs in nothin' but a pair of tight little gray briefs 
last night. Holy mother of...anyway, on with the smut! 
  
Scent of a Woman IV--Tiramisu 
by Terma99 
  
"I'm so attracted to the primitive way a woman smells. It's 
the ultimate aphrodisiac, something each woman has that 
nobody else does." 
--David Duchovny, Glamour Magazine 
  
  
  
If Fox Mulder was ever uncertain as to the degree of distraction 
a woman could drive him to, he was fully aware of it now. It 
felt like an obscene amount of time had passed since he bid 
his partner farewell at the curb, and time was something he 
dearly wanted to conserve. Tonight was everything he'd 
dreamed about for the better part of six years: Dana Scully 
was going to be in his apartment, in his bed, with him, all night. 
His lips missed hers. He couldn't wait to spend at least a 
full uninterrupted sixty minutes just kissing... 

HONK! 

Oops. Who'd he cut off now? A rearview mirror check afforded 
him the silhouette of the middle finger of the driver behind 
him. Mulder's blind spot had nearly doubled in size, probably 
a byproduct of arousal. He needed to focus if he was going to 
have any luck making it home in one piece, or even finding 
his home, which was growing more elusive by the minute. 
He'd missed his exit daydreaming about lapping at the hollow 
of her throat, and was now backtracking through a maze of 
one-way side streets. 

At least he'd *found* the car, he congratulated himself. Don't 
even ask where his head had been while trying to remember 
which street he'd parked on before dinner. Why the hell 
didn't he take the $150 towing fee and just ride home with 
her? Because that most certainly *would* have resulted in a 
moving violation. 

Also, it didn't help that he seemed to have forgotten every 
Eastern mind and circulatory soothing technique he'd ever 
mastered. A nice anxious lump had taken up residence in 
his throat while an accompanying permanent throb had 
settled deep in his groin. Was it possible to perish from 
anticipation? If he missed the next light he was certain to 
find out. 

************************* 

Keys. They were in his hand when he left the car, weren't they? 
The elevator was grinding its way toward the fourth floor at a 
sloth's climb, while Mulder patted himself down for a familiar 
jingle. All he needed right now was to lock himself out of both 
his apartment and his car. The coat pocket clinked--bingo. 

The elevator door binged and opened. Mulder glanced 
nervously into the hall. Empty. His insecurity accelerated 
as he moved into it. She'd probably let herself in, but a part 
of him feared she'd given this whole event second thoughts 
and had sped off in the opposite direction toward Georgetown. 

He reached his door and tried the knob. Secured. He opened 
his hand and looked at the ring of keys he held in his palm. 
This was it, the moment of truth. Either she was in there or 
she wasn't. His fear of rejection kept him from unlocking the 
door just yet. He touched the cold varnished surface--it was 
quiet beyond the frame. He glanced behind him at the dusty 
floor of the hall. It didn't take much to remember holding her 
as she slumped to the tile gasping for breath not so many 
months ago. 

Run, Scully, I'm the poisoned apple, he thought. But if she 
ever did, there was no doubt in his mind he'd run right after 
her. There was no escaping this; it had been a long time 
coming and there had been plenty of opportunity for both 
of them to stop the ride and get off. Somehow they just kept 
getting back in line. 

For better or for worse, he unlocked the door and with a 
practiced shove, it opened. 

On the floor directly at his feet was a thin scrap of black 
lace, casting a deep shadow into his apartment. It confused 
him a second and he bent and looped his finger through it, 
lifting it for a closer inspection. Glancing up, he saw the dim 
green table lamp was turned on, shaded by a matching black 
brassiere. The lump in his throat tightened as it dawned on 
him that this was more than a trail of breadcrumbs. Her slip 
was tossed over the arm of the couch and her sweater was 
folded neatly next to her shoes and skirt on the coffee table. 
The heater was blaring. It could only mean one thing. 
Somewhere in this apartment, his partner was waiting for 
him. Naked. 
  
************************************* 

The bed she had occupied just a few nights ago was now 
seasoned with a light musky touch of Mulder. Nude between 
his sheets, she impatiently rolled about, the soft cotton 
slipping over her shoulders and thighs, like she dreamed 
his lips would soon be doing. She rolled onto her back and 
saw herself reflected in the canopy mirror. She hadn't 
anticipated sleeping here alone again. What on earth was 
taking him so long? This *was* the apartment they'd agreed 
upon. 

Scully shifted her legs--she was still wet and soft from his 
kisses. God, that kiss in the restaurant had nearly melted her 
spine. Under the smooth caress of the sheets, she ached to 
touch what was stirring between her thighs. Her hand brushed 
impatiently over her hip and down to cup over her curls. She 
wasn't sure she could keep herself from starting without him. 
His hand had been on her breast about like this... 

She heard his distinctive shuffle in the hall and froze. Silence. 
Her heart instantly kicked into overdrive, making listening for 
him difficult. There was nothing for several long seconds. Then 
she heard the rattle of keys and the angry complaint of the door 
as it was shoved open. She heard him take a step in and stop. 
She smiled. He must have found her gifts. 

She heard a muffled sound next, a sigh, or was it a series of 
deep breaths? She imagined him bringing the lace of her 
garments to his nose. She swallowed the moan in her throat 
and rolled onto her stomach. Don't move, she reminded 
herself. Don't move. 

The lamp was turned off with a click and the only sound was 
his slow step as he walked the length of his living room. She 
wet her lips, waiting as he turned about, and soon she was 
aware he had entered the bedroom, pausing for a moment in 
the doorway. Her eyes closed, and she pressed her cheek 
against the pillow, trying to still the trembling in her hands. 

"I want you a hundred different ways." 

His words, low and rough, paralyzed her. Terrified her and 
thrilled her. Yes, she thought, yes, god, yes. But she lay still 
and listened to him pull his shirt up over his head and toss 
it to the floor, followed by the fall of his shoes and then the 
unmistakable sound of his zipper being drawn. Was he hard? 
She wanted to know. Was he as desperate for this as she was? 
Could she look now? Could she move? 

She flinched as the covers were thrown back and in one 
graceful move he lay down next to her, skin to skin. Very 
naked, very warm, and yes indeed, very aroused. The touch 
of the hairs on his chest tickled her backbone as he gathered 
her to him, pressing his groin against her bottom, the hot 
length of him settling against her. His lips were soft against 
her neck as he held her, his arms tightening around her, his 
knees coming up under hers in a fetal hold. 

His embrace held a combination of lust and reverence 
unlike anything she had ever felt from him. Once pressed 
together, neither of them moved and she could feel his 
heart thudding against her. A tremor rippled through him 
and he inhaled brokenly, like he was trying to gain dominance 
over something deep within him. She pressed herself tighter 
to him, sighing her acceptance, and his breathing slowed. He 
began to relax. 

"I want to take this slowly, Scully," he whispered. "I want to 
make love to you completely." 

She rolled her head against the pillow. The spell was breaking. 
She could speak again. 

"How long, Mulder?" 

"Hours..." 

"I'll explode before then." 

"Then explode--you'll be beautiful when you come apart." 

She loosened his hold and made to turn over, but he stopped 
her with a gentle press of his hand on the small of her back. 

"Lie still," he whispered. "Don't turn over yet. I want to touch 
you." 

**************************************** 

She's found her way into my mind, he thought, as he touched 
the petal soft skin of her back with long strokes of his hand. 
This was a perfect reenactment of his most recent and vivid 
dream cycle--all about her sleeping naked next to him--just 
holding each other without words. The reality of feeling her 
against him, and how warm she had made his bed, had nearly 
brought him to tears. He loved her too much, he knew that, 
and he'd need to get a grip on those feelings if he was going 
to show her half the lover he knew he could be. Tonight was 
about sharing pleasure--the humbling gratitudes could come 
later. 

Her skin was so pale, so warm. He touched her, brushing his 
fingertips, his palm, the back of his hand, over the subtle 
terrain of shoulder blade, hip and spine. She was lying still 
and compliant, breathing in little puffs through parted lips, 
her hand tucked under her chin like a child. He was desperate 
for her mouth, but for now he was introducing her to his touch. 

He leaned up on his elbow and reached down to touch the 
arch of her foot, dragging his fingers up the firm but feminine 
skin and muscle of her calf and the back of her thigh. He 
spread his hand and smoothed it over the gorgeous roundness 
of her ass, squeezing gently. She sighed a moan, and although 
she was obviously trying very hard to lie still, quivered under him. 

Keeping his touch on her back slow and even, he rested his 
body along hers, letting his nose fall into her hair, finally 
giving into the indulgence of arousing himself with her scent. 
She'd always smelled like this--a complexity of female musk 
and skin-seasoned perfume--it followed her everywhere in a 
faint heavenly cloud. He loved those mornings when she 
arrived at work ahead of him, fresh and clean, filling their 
small office with the light smell of shampoo, perfume and coffee. 

Lying side by side, he slipped his other arm under her and 
with both hands, began to gently explore her front. He couldn't 
see her face in this position, so he just let his hands wander 
over her, closing his eyes, breathing in her skin. He traced the 
line of her jaw, and with the back of his curved fingers, he 
stroked her chin and neck. He ran his thumb across her lips 
and groaned when her hot tongue slipped out to taste him. 

His hands moved lower to the rise of her breasts and with 
care, he explored the soft pliable contours. Lifting her 
breasts gently, he slid his fingers under them, raising and 
lowering them. He allowed himself the rush of squeezing 
and teasing the tight little peaks, his hips returning her 
subtle sway against him. 

His palms felt the slope of her belly and moved lower until 
his fingertips met the soft tuft below her bellybutton. He 
gave it only a moment's consideration before he slipped 
one long index finger between her lips. God, there was 
wetness, heat, liquid--his cock resounded with the stimulation 
and he pulled back. That was an area he would visit later. 
For now he was satisfied to know she was ready for him. 
But right now he was going to lose his mind if he didn't 
kiss her. 

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he kissed his way 
around her chin, rolling her under him until he found her 
mouth and kissed it softly like he had every Monday and 
Friday for the past two blissful months. With that same 
light touch, he kissed her all over her face. Faster than he 
wanted, his mouth sought her nose, her cheek, her eyelids. 
Her impatient fingers laced into his hair and tugged at him 
until his lips fell heavily over her mouth, opening to him. 

******************************** 

Finally, he was kissing her--deeply, ravenously. Their whole 
sensory universe was reduced to lips and tongues and soft 
moans. His sweet touches all around her naked body had 
been as frustrating as they were arousing--all she wanted 
was to kiss him. Kissing Mulder meant telling him intimately 
how much she needed him, valued him, desired him, all 
without words. Their mouths fused eagerly together, 
communicating long years of restraint and denied phrases 
in a lick, a nibble, a feint, a pleasingly sloppy smooch. 

His fingers held her face as he lifted her chin to kiss and 
suck her neck, but she gripped his hair and pulled him off. 
She wasn't finished with his mouth yet, as he moved back 
and she pushed herself up to get back at it. 

They were sitting up now--a long arm wrapped around her, 
his hand curved under her ass--the other holding her head, 
as they continued their oral expressions. Her nails traced 
over his shoulders. He moaned and tilted her head back, 
diving deeply into her mouth, kissing her from one angle 
and then the other, rubbing his nose against hers. His lips 
were full and warm and wet, and at some point in his life 
Mulder had learned how to use his quick-witted tongue to 
its full advantage, licking her lips and sucking them like 
they were candy. It felt so damn good she started to feel 
a giggle rising in her. 

Her laugh broke him off and he grinned at her, lips slick 
and out of breath. "What?" 

"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted you to kiss 
me like this?" 

"You're worth the wait," he said, dragging his thumb over 
her lower lip, testing its pliancy. "We've got a good fifty 
years to go. I might get my fill of you by then." Pulling her 
onto his lap, he started to make good on that promise. 

There was no more talking for a long while until Mulder 
pressed her back into the mattress beneath them, not unlocking 
her lips from his until her legs found their way around his 
hips and they were beginning to rock against each other, 
both panting for air. 

"How we doing on time?" he asked, catching a breath while 
kissing her throat and taking that long-awaited lap at its 
pale hollow base. 

"Time?" She could see him in the mirror, his sleek muscled 
back moving over her, his hand sliding up to touch her breast. 

"I promised myself at least an hour or more of your mouth 
before moving along to the next course." 

"I see. Sorry, forgot the stopwatch." 

"God, I'm beginning to sweat already. What the heck did you 
do to the thermostat?" Hot air was still blowing up from the 
floor, stirring the curtains. It felt like summer in March. 

She hugged him, pressing his cheek to her chest, running her 
hands up and down his dewy back while he took a minute to 
fondle and kiss her breasts. "I like you sweaty; you smell good, 
just like after a run." 

He looked up at her, a nipple popping out of his mouth. 
"You've... sniffed me?" 

"Every chance I got." 

He grinned. "Well, I'd rather not lose the majority of my 
bodily fluids through my skin tonight. I'll be right back." 
He kissed her soundly on the mouth, and got up off the bed, 
erection bobbing steadily in the moonlight as he walked out 
into the next room. Scully sat up, keeping her eyes on him 
until he moved out of view. He was amazing. She couldn't 
wait to get her mouth on that thing. She decided she wasn't 
going to let him back in the bed until she did. 

The curtains soon stilled and Scully could hear him opening 
a cupboard in the kitchen and filling a glass with water. She 
could hear him gulping it down and refilling the glass before 
he padded back to the bedroom. 

************************************* 
  
"Water?" Mulder held the glass out to the bare vision kneeling 
on his bed and she took a few swallows, passing it back to him. 
He finished the rest and leaned to set the empty glass aside. 
When he stood up he found her arms wrapped firmly around 
his hips, her eyes gazing intently at his groin. 

"I had this incredible dream when I slept here the other 
night, Mulder." Her fingers moved over the muscles of his 
ass and he bit his lip to keep standing still. "Want to hear about it?" 

She slid her hands around and began to touch him, lightly 
drawing her fingers through his pelvic hair. He swallowed 
hard, his fingers threading into her hair. "Sure." 

"I dreamed you came home; I surprised you. You pulled a 
gun on me." She paused to kiss his belly. He struggled to 
find her meaning. Freud came to mind and he quickly 
shushed him. 

"A gun..?" 

"That wasn't nice. It made me anxious, excited..." Her 
kisses continued lower, across his abdomen, her chin 
brushing the tip of his cock. He shivered as her nails 
dragged lightly up his thigh and under his balls. 

"I woke up, hot, wet, wanting you. I was in your bed, this 
bed, and I needed to touch you, kiss you..." 

She took him in a loose fist and began to kiss him, soft 
touches on his rigid flesh. He couldn't remember the last 
time a woman put her mouth on him--and he was pretty 
damn sure no one had ever kissed his penis before, not 
like she was. He swallowed, closing his eyes. There was 
no way in hell he could watch this. Her voice was almost 
too much. 

"I wanted you to take me, hard. Just throw me to the 
floor, but I couldn't even wait for that, I had to take 
you in my mouth..." 

Her lips kissed his tip and then parted, taking him in. 
She sucked him in deep, once, twice, thrice and released 
him before he could grow too fond of the sensation. Her 
hands squeezed his ass again and she looked up at him. 

"I want to have you like I did in my dream. Will you let me 
do that?" He opened his eyes and saw the intent and desire 
radiating from her, hypnotic. 

"Okay, but just a little while and then I'll have to ask you to 
stop. You'll promise me you'll stop, right?" 

"I promise." 

"Then he's all yours, but be gentle if you want it to last." 

Mulder now understood why so many abduction scenarios 
involved sexual imagery. He was certain he'd be missing time 
for the next several minutes. He could feel her tongue, her 
lips, the faint scrape of her teeth surrounding him, loving 
him. It was good, so good, so good, his mind lying to him 
the whole time, telling him--it's okay, just a little bit more, 
just one more pull, one more suck, it's okay, it's okay... 

He took a step back, touching her cheek. "Feels too good 
standing. I'll need to lie down." 

She scooted up the bed and he kneeled next to her, kissing 
her roughly until she pressed him to lie down and get 
comfortable. 

She went back to kissing him, and giving his length little 
flicks with her tongue, traveling lower until she was at his 
base, working the loose skin of his balls. He whimpered 
and rolled halfway over when she slipped a testicle into 
her mouth. 

She sucked him delicately, nudging his legs open, letting 
the furry oval fall wet and slick from her mouth with a 
gentle tug before taking care of the other half of the pair 
--as if his glands needed the extra encouragement. 

She licked all around and underneath his sac, soothing 
him until he needed to touch her chin again, urge her to 
give his cock some of that same TLC. She fed him a daring 
glance as her tongue teased his flushed tip, lapping up the 
eyedrop of anxious fluid. He moved his hips under her, trying 
to aim himself back into her mouth. She smiled and stroked 
his scrotum slowly as he whimpered and wriggled, unable to 
hold still under her hand. 

"Please..." he begged. 

"I will, but you have to tell me about something first." 

"Anything." 

Her eyes never leaving his penis, she opened her pretty red 
mouth and said. "I want you to tell me about what you do 
when you go home at night to your couch and your videos." 

His head flopped back and he chuckled. "You want a confession?" 

She bent and licked his cock from base to tip. "Yes." 

He hissed before answering. "Alright. You've got it. Now 
stop teasing, and take care of me, woman." 

She went back about her business, maintaining a good hold on 
him, but keeping the sensations mild as he tried to find 
something fairly decent to share with the class. He could see 
her in the overhead mirror, a mussed red shock of hair 
bobbing over him, making him crazy. He took a deep breath 
and began in a low voice. 

"Some nights, Scully, I couldn't help myself. I'd come home 
from work filled with thoughts of you--from working so close 
to you I could still smell you on me. I'd be so aroused, I'd lay 
back on the couch and touch myself thinking of you--of your 
lips--kissing them--kissing your breasts--tasting the wetness 
between your thighs... 

...ah, that's really nice, do that again... 

...Fantasizing about going down always gets me off. Always. I 
can't even think about licking you right now while you're doing 
this or it'll make me come--just like that." 

She slipped him out of her mouth long enough to ask another 
question. "What are you thinking about right now?" 

He smiled with gritted teeth, "Getting punched by Jimmy Nelson 
in third grade. Whether or not I bought toilet paper. A rerun of 
Three's Company. Everything tonight depends on my ability to 
distract myself. And it's getting to be more difficult by the 
minute--I want to be in you, Scully--but not yet--not just yet-- 
oh--god--" 

His eyes squeezed shut. "...I'm sorry, baby, I have to ask you 
to stop." 

She pulled up. He stared up at the mirror, blinking. He could 
still feel her breath on him. His voice was soft. "Don't...don't 
touch anything." 

He reached down slowly with his right hand and gripped the 
head of his penis tightly for a few seconds. Then he released 
it and jiggled his balls, blowing out a lungful of air. 

"Mulder, it's perfectly okay for you to come, we can just..." 

He sat up on his elbows and pointed at her. "No it's not 
perfectly okay. We only get one shot at this. And I don't 
know about you, but I've got all night. And by the way you 
can get on your hands and knees now." 

"Why?" 

"Because I'm about to return the favor." 

"My hands and knees?" She tried to keep her voice even and 
logical, but the flash her mental lust-filled mind sent her of 
Mulder licking her like a newborn calf nearly made her faint. 

He kept a dark predatory look on her as she moved into 
position and he slipped off the end of the bed. He motioned 
her to back up toward him where he had settled, kneeling 
on the floor. 

He kissed her bottom and ran his hands over her thighs as 
he eased them apart. She blushed, being put in this position, 
exposing herself like this. But the embarrassment only made 
her hotter for it. It wasn't like she didn't know him. 
  
***************************** 

Like a handbell-trained mutt, Mulder was salivating. Finally, 
after all these years, he was going to taste this hidden place 
where Scully's flesh reached its melting point. The aroma 
alone had been turning his brain to oatmeal and his dick to 
granite since he first slipped in bed with her. 

He spread her pretty auburn-trimmed labia. In the center, 
her pink folds were fat and polished with arousal. He eased 
the secluded flesh apart with his thumbs and took a good long 
look at heaven before breaking the sanctity of this holiest of 
places with a kiss. 

He licked the liquid from his lips--delicious. He had to have 
more. She was so wet, it took several full swipes of his tongue 
before he could create any real friction against her. Her back 
arched and she gave a long soft moan and backed into his face. 

**************************** 

One small touch of his lips and she was pushing herself into him 
like a filly in heat. He held her still and began to kiss her as 
passionately as he had her mouth. Gradually he began to 
improvise, adding more instruments one by one like a Bolero 
orchestration. He used everything--his lips, fingers, tongue, 
nose. My god, she hadn't even considered the nose. Was there 
nothing this man couldn't put to good use? 

Her sex felt heavy, thick and hot. She moaned whenever his 
tongue slid into her body, slippery and soft, soothing her 
vaginal opening, tense from years of neglect. He was preparing 
her, getting her ready for that incredible member of his. How 
long was he going to make her wait? 

"Put your head down," he murmured, and she did, obediently, 
sighing into a pillow. The position rotated her hips so he could 
lick all around her clit, and suckle it briefly, teasingly, between 
rich warm lips. 

No man had ever done this to her--not like this--made her 
open herself quite like this. His were no awkward, furtive 
lappings and pauses, or "is this right?" There was nothing 
timid, polite, or conservative about his campaign. He was all 
over her--every inch of her sex was being tasted, kissed, sucked, 
and swallowed with abandon. She cried out when his tongue 
ran deliberately over her anus. 

*********************************** 

His cock throbbed each time her core contracted, issuing a 
new surge of wetness. He licked her as deep as he could go, 
dipping in and out, starved for that feeling, that taste. He 
couldn't get enough of her. He'd missed this experience so 
much, it frightened him. He was moaning and murmuring his 
appreciation. Hot and musky, her animal smell was all over 
his mouth and chin and hands. He wanted to rub himself in it 
like a wolf devouring a fawn. His cock was growing extremely 
impatient and he ground it into the end of the mattress to 
keep it pacified. It would have to wait its turn. 

When he'd cleaned her of her essence, he brought his focus 
back to her plump, eager clit--relaxing his tongue over it, letting 
it fold and mold and fill the dips and dimples of her sex. He 
couldn't hold her still anymore; she was getting too excited. 
He slowed to a leisurely lick, then a kiss, and finally tore 
himself away. 

************************** 
  
Scully raised her head, flushed and hot, turning to him as 
he crawled back up next to her on the bed, wiping his chin 
on his forearm. 

"Why did you stop?" she whined, collapsing on her 
stomach, frustrated by the abandoned throb between 
her legs. "I thought you were going to finish me." 

He smiled modestly, stretching out next to her, touching 
her nose. "Not yet." 

She made a grumbly noise. "So what do you want to do now?" 

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Dunno, lay around, talk, kiss. 
Are you ticklish?" 

She gave him a shrewd smile. "No. I'm not. And I'd rather 
you made good on your promise to fuck me." 

"Patience, Scully, is a virtue." 

"I'm not interested in virtue. I've had six years of virtue. 
Tonight I want Old Testament hell-fire and damnation sin." 

"You want to wrestle?" 

"No," she said indignantly with a snort. 

"Can I tell you how you taste, then? I'd love to share that 
with you." 

"Sure, fine..." 

He rolled over onto his back and stretched out like a cat, 
resting a hand behind his head. "You taste just like that 
rich Italian thing you left in my fridge." 

"Al Capone?" 

"No...the dessert. That rum thing...oh never mind, mood's 
ruined. Al Capone, right." 

"Tiramisu, Mulder." 

"Bless you." 

"It's not a sneeze, it's a delicacy. And I would have left some 
in your apartment years ago if I knew you were going to 
compare me to mascarpone and lady fingers." 

"Well, it's what you taste like. I have it all over my fingers." 
He paused to pass a hand over his nose. "I love that. I'd wear 
you on me everyday if I could." 

"That would get people talking." 

He rolled over on his side, propping his head up with an arm. 
He looked quite content and relaxed for a man with a rather 
impressive hard-on. He looked almost normal, like they were 
about to discuss some autopsy results. Never mind all Scully 
could think of was getting those lush complacent lips back 
between her legs. 

His finger traced a pattern across his upturned bedspread. 
"I missed you in Louisville, you know. I realize it was only 
for a few days, but I felt disconnected, just floating around. 
You always ground me like fine rubber tubing." 

She nodded, trying to appreciate the sincerity of that remark. 
"I thought I was going to enjoy the break from your lunacy, 
myself. But I'll admit I soon discovered how unbearably dull 
a solo afternoon in the basement can be. I guess we're good 
at keeping each other entertained." 

"Hmm..." Mulder's talk session seemed to be detained by her 
left thigh. He was running his hand along it. "Love your hips..." 

"Thank you. You're not too bad yourself." 

He smiled and winked at her. Letting his fingers run the length 
of her from curls to breast bone. "I love this part of you. Right 
here. This furrow that goes from your breasts to your..." 

"My linea alba?" 

"Yeah, that. Scully, you make it sound so sexy," he said dryly, 
and leaned in and traced the surface anatomy in question with 
his tongue. "We should play doctor sometime, I'd like that," 
he teased, and began kissing each nipple one by one, flicking 
his tongue over them, evening their perkiness, pausing 
between nibbles to check his work. 

She combed her fingers through his rumpled hair and fought 
off an amused blush. "I'd prefer if we scheduled your deepest 
perversions for a later date." 

"Mmgm." Mulder had trouble speaking with his mouth full 
of breast. 

"Although, I'll admit I have a few of my own." 

"Such as..?" He was testing the softness of the skin under her 
arm now, lifting it toward him, over his shoulder, stroking 
her lightly, almost ticklish. 

She tightened her lips to hide her sensitivity as he took her 
hand and began kissing her palm, licking between her fingers. 

"I wouldn't mind dressing up for you, in something tastefully 
sexy from Victoria's Secret, and perhaps unveiling the item to 
you at an undisclosed date and location." He made a bear-like 
sound and sucked her middle finger into his mouth hungrily. 

"I take it you'd appreciate that kind of thing." 

"Yessss. That ranks pretty high on my wish list." He dropped 
her hand back onto the bed and started to caress her kneecap 
instead. 

"Really? What's number one?" 

He looked her dead on, his tongue coming out to lick his upper 
lip. "I just had it a few minutes ago." 

*It'll make me come, Scully--just like that.* 

She was suddenly gripped with an overpowering urge to do just 
that, make him come. They could play secret touching games 
later. She could still taste the salty rigid skin of his cock on her 
tongue and she wanted him back inside her, at her mercy. 
Now. 

She jumped on top of him and started kissing him, hard. He 
responded with an amused sound and ran his hands all down 
her back and ass. Scully spread herself over him and began to 
rub her wetness over his shaft, basting him in her juices. He 
kissed her solidly, deeply, drawing her tongue in and out 
between his teeth. She writhed, trying to work his cock into 
position under her, but he was bigger and stronger, and kept 
jousting it out of the way. 

She growled in frustration and pushed off of him. She sat up 
on her knees, hands to her naked hips, blowing a lock of hair 
back from her face. 

"Fuck me Mulder, or I'm going home." 

He was lying next to her looking up at her, smiling devilishly, 
nibbling his lower lip. His features were softened, beautified 
by arousal. He was positively the most gorgeous thing she'd 
ever laid eyes on, damn him. 

"Did I tell you your breasts look great? Ow!" She smacked his 
wrist as he tried to grab one. "I want to fuck you, Scully. I've 
told you that. I just want to enjoy it, the process. I'm not half 
done playing with you--although your beautiful, delicious 
pussy almost made me reconsider." 

She swung one leg over the bed. "I'll be in the other room... 
when you need me..." 

He swooped her up before she could get away, and tangled 
together with a sheet or two, they both tumbled to the floor 
in a heap. She squealed and tried to get out of his arms as he 
rolled her under him and started sucking her neck. She pushed 
with all her might against him, but batting him off was difficult 
while giggling incessantly. His mouth was tickling her neck and 
shoulder and she slipped one leg around him and tried to slide 
to the left. 

Somehow she wriggled away and managed to crawl a few feet 
across the floor before he pounced on her and pulled her into 
his lap like a bundle of twigs. 

"Where do you think you're going at this late hour? All naked 
and flushed?" 

"Someplace where a man will treat me right," she said, teasing. 

"I treat you just fine." 

She whapped playfully at his chest. "No you don't. You ditch me. 
You leave out key bits of information to trick me into taking 
long drives into the middle of nowhere with you. You use me 
all the time." 

He flinched slightly. 

Oh hell, he took that wrong. He pressed his lips together and 
looked at the floor. 

"Mulder...I didn't mean that seriously." 

He sighed and looked at her with a half-smile. "Yeah, I know, 
but it's true. I do use you." 

She touched his cheek and kissed him sweetly on the forehead. 

He took her hand. 

"Scully, listen to me. You're right, I'm not the next best thing 
since sliced cheese. I do take you for granted sometimes. I 
put other things first. But I want you to understand that all 
ends tonight. I swear to you from here on out you will always 
come first. Always, no exceptions. You can leave me if I ever 
forget it. Just walk away--no questions asked." 

"Mulder, I don't need that kind of promise from you. I *know* 
you. I know what to expect. If I didn't like what I saw in you, I 
could have left years ago." 

That seemed to ease his concern somewhat and he turned her 
until they were sitting at the foot of the bed facing the floor 
length mirror together. He held her snugly between his legs, 
her head resting back against his chest. They looked wonderful 
together. A good fit. 

"Look how beautiful you are," he said, stroking her belly. 

"Just look. This is how I see you. Everyday. Lovely, strong, 
compassionate, patient. I don't have the slightest idea why 
you're with me. You could have done so much better." 

She raised a brow. "I think you usually see me in more clothes 
than this, but I'll buy that analysis for now." 

He hugged her close and kissed her hair, looking at her with a 
little smile in the mirror. "I remember when we first met. I 
thought you were this fresh-faced academy brat. Cute as hell, 
but a little 'do good' spy nevertheless. I was determined to 
drive you out shrieking after the first week. And I stuck to that 
plan for all of the first two days until I realized that you weren't 
about to take any crap from me. You had my number, and it 
turned out I was the one who was in for it. You impressed the 
hell out of me that first year." 

Her reflection smiled approvingly back at him, and she settled 
against him for a good story. "Go on..." 

His fingers randomly stroked her arms and legs while he 
spoke. "And then that one great year turned into two and 
somehow you were still with me, standing by me at great risk 
to yourself, and I was dumbfounded that any woman as 
gorgeous and brilliant as you could even tolerate me. Don't 
laugh, but I began to develop this hard crush on that little 
academy brat." 

"A crush?" she laughed. "Isn't that something you get in 
grade school?" 

"Yeah, and it was as pure as that. I enjoyed it, cultivated it, 
hid it away inside while keeping you at an arm's length. I 
could do that back then, hide how I felt. But then somewhere 
in the middle of our third year something happened." 

"What?" 

He shook his head. "It's like I woke up one morning, walked to 
work and was hit over the head with something heavy. 
Irreparable blunt force trauma. Somehow when I wasn't 
looking you had become this devastatingly beautiful woman. 
You blossomed, excuse the melodrama, but it's true. I'd never 
seen you as a woman before and I was instantly, hopelessly 
crazy for you. That's when the sexual fantasies began for me-- 
raw and real into my dreams, into my head at the most 
inconvenient times. I wanted you so badly, it hurt sometimes. 
I knew I couldn't have you, that you didn't want that. We 
had something different, that was perhaps better, so to not 
mess up that perfect untouchable thing, I backed away." 

"I noticed you giving me some space," she recalled. "You 
didn't joke quite so much with me. I wondered about that. 
I think I felt you had finally learned to respect me as an equal." 

"I did. And that's why I wanted you in the most carnal of ways. 
You had bested me at my own game and were continuing to 
challenge me. I can't think of a more potent aphrodisiac," 
he confessed, and began to rub her softened nipple with his 
thumb. 

She stretched under his touch, but kept her lips tight over 
the sounds she wanted to make, determined to keep his story 
unfolding whether or not his warm breath was stirring the 
fine hairs behind her ear. "What about year four?" 

"Our fourth year?" He looked grim. "Our fourth year was 
terrible. I learned there was something far more painful than 
being denied your body." He sounded like that was all he 
wanted to say, but she took his hand and squeezed it, urging 
him to go on. 

"I almost lost you two ways. The first way was entirely my 
fault. I had established a pattern of ruling the roost, of 
controlling every day of our lives, making all your plans, 
and you finally had enough when I sent you to Philadelphia. 
Nothing had ever scared me more than calling your hotel 
that Monday morning and finding out you hadn't returned 
the previous night. 

I hung up the phone determined to dial the warehouse 
and have them send up the biggest, most ostentatious desk 
they could find, with scrollwork, and a leather blotter like 
the one Michael Corleone had. But I knew that wasn't what 
you really wanted. Thank god you came back..." His voice 
trailed off and he looked at her toes. 

"...I can't talk about the other way I almost lost you. Not 
tonight." 

"That's okay," she whispered, rubbing her cheek against 
his chest in comfort. "Tell me about last year." 

He smiled, squeezing her until she squeaked. "Last year was 
like winning the lottery. I had you back, strong, willing. I 
have no idea how I managed that, but I was so grateful, I was 
determined to end my evil selfish ways. I began to change-- 
completely from the inside out. I felt something beyond 
crushes, or lust, or despair--I felt like I was married. Don't 
look at me like that, I'm serious. I'd introduce you as my 
partner, and in my head think that was just a formal term 
for 'wife.'" 

"I carried on happily in that manner throughout the end of 
the year and into the next until the most amazing thing started 
to happen just a few months ago." He looked down at her, 
with a glint in his eye. "We started kissing. Those little 'hello' 
kisses. They were so sweet. I'd have dreams about them for 
days afterwards. I loved that so much. It was private, special-- 
something I could share with you. I didn't even dream I could 
be having more." 

"I loved that too. It made me feel closer to you in a way I 
hadn't been before," she confessed, and kissed him lightly. 

"God, Scully," he sighed, brushing the hair from her forehead. 
"I try everyday to be a better partner, a better person for you. 
It's hard sometimes to see that. I know, I'm a stubborn 
sonovabitch, but it's there. I know because the change is in 
here." He touched his chest. "I feel it. I've felt it for a long 
time. It's love--real honest-to-god love that doesn't fade or 
hurt, it's just there. You put it there. I love you, Scully. I can't 
say that enough...you'll probably get sick of hearing me say it. 
But I've needed to tell you for a very, very long time." 

"You did tell me Mulder, I just wasn't ready to listen." 

"But you remembered it." 

She shook her head with a shrug. "I couldn't get it out of my 
head." 

"What made you finally listen?" 

"I don't know. Once I knew I wanted you, becoming lovers 
just seemed like the simplest thing in the world to do. Although 
I'm beginning to have doubts again as to whether or not that's 
ever going to happen," she complained, giving him a jab in 
the ribs. 

"I'll give you everything you want, Scully, anything," he said, 
holding her in a deep regard. His hand slid lower between 
her legs, beginning to stroke her dampness. She hissed and 
rolled her cheek to his chest. She gasped as one long finger 
entered her, gently thrusting. His mouth was against her ear. 
"Tell me what you want, baby, tell me how you want me to 
love you." 

She couldn't respond, all she could think about was the 
second finger sliding in next to the first, her walls stretching 
to accommodate. She tilted back to kiss him. "Inside me," was 
all she could say. 

"Yes, I'll be inside you, hard and deep," he said between kisses. 
"As long as you need, I won't stop until you ask me to." 

A third finger made a trio and she arched her pelvis so they 
could slip in further, the middle one just grazing her sweet spot-- 
it ached and begged for more. "Mmm...now Mulder, please. I 
need you." 

He kissed her nose and her lips. "I want you, Scully. I want you 
to come out of yourself for me." 

She climbed up onto his lap, guiding his other palm to her 
breast. His warm thick cock slid across her thigh as he continued 
his finger manipulations. "I trust you," she whispered, and his 
mouth closed over hers. 

***************** 

He lifted her back onto the bed and she reached up on her 
knees, grabbing a bedpost, exposing her toes and back to 
him. "Like this," she sighed, and he slipped up behind her, 
running his hands up her arms to grip her fingers in his, his 
cock nudging between her legs as he kissed her shoulder. She 
turned her head, "Sit back." 

He sat back on his thighs and she straddled him, lowering 
herself down the bedpost. His hands guided her ass lower and 
lower until she felt him make contact, begin to spread her 
damp lips apart and then slip forward and out of range. 
Oops. If this had been an Apollo docking procedure, they 
would have lost the moon. She hoisted herself back up and 
tried it again with similar results. She grunted impatiently-- 
she was determined to get him stuffed in there one way or 
another. It didn't help that he was beginning to laugh, making 
the thing jiggle all over the place. 

"Mulder, hold still." 

"Come 'ere." He grabbed her around the waist and pulled 
her back to fall on top of him. She struggled out of his grip 
and flipped over, slapping him on the chest. 

"Don't make me handcuff you," she pouted. He bit his lip, his 
eyes dancing mirthfully. 

"I might have to take you up on that," he said, as he spread 
her legs and rolled her under him, and began to thrust along 
her folds, getting himself good and slick. The stimulation 
against her clit made her grimace and grind against him. 

"Funny," she spoke between pants of air.  "I didn't have you 
pegged as a missionary man," she said, challenging him. 

With one last perfect stroke, he sneered and flipped her over 
onto her stomach, bending her right knee up. "I'm not." And 
taking himself in hand, began to guide the head of his cock 
snugly into her. 

"Oh!" Good lord, she felt that. He stopped just after the first 
inch and pulled out. There was a pleasant burning feeling 
there now. He reached around her hip to massage it and spread 
her lips and thrust firmly again. Her face hit the pillow and 
she moaned. Another crawling inch and then a full retreat, 
a massage, and another widening, delving inch. Another 
certain push and he was nearly there, but he stilled, rubbing 
his nose over the dip of her bare shoulders mumbling 
something under his breath before making another full retreat. 

"You feel wonderful," she said into the softness of the pillow. 
"Don't worry about me, I'll adjust." 

"Worried about you?" he quipped. "I'm worried about *me*." 

Scully batted the pillow out of the way and sat up on her hands 
and knees, spreading herself to him, begging to receive his 
mouth, fingers, cock, *something*. She felt him scoot up 
behind her and using his knees, spread her legs farther apart. 
His fingers stroked her gently, fondling the opening, tracing 
the rim with his thumb. And then once again she felt the 
blunt nudge of his cock against her, wet and permeable. He 
worked it just inside her in a circular stroke, easing himself 
in. She felt her legs begin to shake and tried to still herself, 
but she couldn't stand the waiting anymore, and raising her 
head, thrust herself onto him in a sudden motion that drove 
him home. 
  
**************************** 

Inside inside inside. 

Mulder knew the moment his first finger entered the snug 
hollow of her body that he was in for it. How many hours had 
he promised her? Good thing he had delayed this event for a 
few minutes of conversation. In retrospect, that might make 
it seem like he had exhibited some form of control. 

He was completely stunned by the feel of her as he started to 
move in her slowly, his body flooding with sensation. It had 
been almost half a decade since he'd felt the hot naked wetness 
of a woman. Sure, there'd been a handful of brief encounters 
throughout the years, but he eventually abandoned that 
practice as he found his soul tended to wait outside the back 
door until his dick was finished. The guilt soon outweighed 
the physical relief. Truth was, it had been a solo act for some 
time now. 

His spiritual awareness was learning how to work with his 
body again, taking stern control of it. He loved this woman 
desperately, he desired her more than anything he'd ever 
quested for in his life. He needed even more to show her 
that. Tonight, the penis had to wait outside. He withdrew. 

"Why are you stopping?" 

"Desensitizing," he answered, trying to sound scientific for 
her benefit. "It's like stepping into a hot tub. It feels really 
good once you're in, but it's always a bit too much at first." 

"Ah, I see. I'll just be here when you're ready..." 

He tried to find the humor in her snide statement and gave 
himself a three-second pep talk while he prepared himself 
for another go. He knew he'd be fine if he could just get through 
the first few minutes. Just two minutes until his dick could 
settle down enough for him to get some kind of grip on this 
situation. Maybe he should have lit the Elvis prayer candle 
tonight in preparation. 

****************************** 

After a few false starts, Mulder seemed to regain a measure 
of confidence in himself as he filled her with his sex. The 
tightness she had felt at first was quickly subsiding and 
being replaced by a deeper, richer feeling. 

Face to the sheets, she turned her head, moaning in 
appreciation, and slid two fingers back against her folds 
just to feel the reality of him surging past her lips and into 
the depths of her opening. She touched the root of him, 
feeling its thick heat and with wet fingers reached underneath 
to stroke his balls. 

He hummed pleasantly at the touch as he continued his slow, 
but even progress, his hands on her ass, holding her steady. 

"Do you feel alright?" 

"Yes." Oh my god, yes. She had forgotten this feeling, how it 
felt to have a man sunk into her. She could hardly remember 
the words that went with these sensations: hardness, fullness, 
depth, tension, need. She had nearly forgotten how all- 
encompassing this act was--how the strife and stress she 
had endured these past years at his side faded into pale 
forgetfulness at the simple stroke of his physical being 
merging into hers. 

"Then tell me how you like this." 

He began to take it faster, quicker, with more force. He 
was kneeling upright, letting his balls and pelvis connect 
in a firm resonating pound. He was so deep, it felt like the 
end of his cock was going to burst something deep in her 
skull. She didn't have words to tell him how fucking incredible 
he felt so she let her mouth open and speak to him in a 
wordless language of soft naked sounds. 

He paused to shift his knees, and adjusted his angle until he 
was stroking along a sensory zone she'd never discovered 
before. She cried out and let him know that was definitely the 
right spot. It was unbelievable. She couldn't believe just a few 
hours ago she'd been warning him not to expect much. There 
was not a single doubt in her mind that he could please her, 
easily. 

"You feel so good, Scully," he rasped, running his hands down 
her back. "I want to take you away to some deserted island for 
a week where I can throw you down on the beach and make 
love to you twenty-four hours a day." 

"We'd starve," she whispered, letting her fingers trace over 
the muscles working in his thigh. 

"I'll feed you bananas...and have the natives leave jugs of 
fresh water near our private lagoon. We'll sleep on blankets 
in the sand and bathe in the ocean. Can you hear the seabirds?" 

She could, just above the gentle roll of the ocean, bright and 
clear. She could lose herself there, so easily, falling into the 
warm sand. Her legs turned to putty and she let them 
collapse. Mulder held back and let her sink down onto her 
stomach. She curled herself, making herself smaller, drawing 
her legs up to her chest, her arms under her breasts in an 
effort to weather the sensations sweeping over her, awakening 
lost emotional responses deep in her psyche, calling to her in 
velvet echoes. 

He reentered her, his weight falling over her, covering her, his 
long cock moving steadily in and out of her as they sank 
slowly onto the bed. She whimpered, feeling moisture spring 
to her eyes. All she could feel was how deep he was, how 
complete she felt having him there, like he was designed for 
her, solid, the smell of his sweat and his groin mixed with 
hers, his lips gathering the tears that slid down her cheek. 
God, he was right. She didn't want this to end, ever. A week 
might not be long enough. This is what it's like to be fucked 
by a man who really loves you, she told herself, who really 
knows you. 
  
************************************* 

She was under him, curled into the tiniest of packages, 
and he was overcome with a powerful need to protect her. 
He covered her with his body, kissing her hair and cheek, 
thrusting her against the firm mattress beneath them. He 
felt masterful, powerful, like there was nothing in the world 
more important in the creation of man than to be in bed 
with this woman, loving her. He had planned to take a break, 
let her adjust, let him adjust, but it was too much, she was 
too good, warm and wet, the need too great to do anything 
but thrust and thrust and thrust. 

He felt her shift and tremble under him, her beautiful voice 
crying out as she began to stroke herself deep between her 
legs. Dimly he remembered this was the kind of sound a 
woman made when she'd reached the point of full arousal. 
She was so small under him. He wanted to unfold her, touch 
her, kiss her, take her the rest of the way. It was time to 
take control over the maddening rush of pleasure in his groin 
and bring her to him, face to face. After a few more 
indulgent thrusts, he pulled out. 

She was still tight within herself, curled around her own limbs 
like a newborn. Her eyes closed tight against escaping tears. 

"No..." she whimpered, still touching herself. "Not now, 
please I need...I can't..." 

He leaned over her, brushing her hair with concern. 

"Hey, Scully, where are you?" 

"Hmm...?" She stilled and her arms went limp at her sides. 
She lifted her head and began to unwind herself. Wiping 
the tears from her own face in surprise. "I'm sorry, I don't 
know...I forgot this..." 

"Come here, lie down with me," he said, and took her in his 
arms, throwing a blanket over her hip. He kissed the top of 
her head and soothed her with gentle words. His hand rubbed 
her back, calming her. "You were disappearing on me. I want 
you with me. I want you to see me." 

Her eyes were open now, hiding nothing. She looked almost a 
little embarrassed. "I'm sorry..." 

"Shh, don't apologize." He kissed her forehead and pulled 
the blanket around the both of them, his fingertips working 
their way down her spine. She rested her cheek against his 
chest and let his strong fingers knead away her tension. "It's 
been so long," she explained, snuggled against him. "I'm not 
used to sharing it." 

He smiled tenderly at her and touched her chin. "It's strange 
for me too, but in a wonderful way." 

She lowered her eyes, drawing her tongue coyly over her upper 
lip. "I suppose I need to learn a little patience." 

His silent chuckle rumbled under her as she lay against 
him, warming her chilled limbs. "You've been in a rush all 
night, since dinner." 

Their meal seemed like it had taken place days ago. She 
smiled, "I guess I have." 

He brought her lips to his and kissed them softly. "That's 
okay, there'll be plenty of occasions when rushing will be 
a necessity: lunch breaks, on the road, in elevators, the 
review board waiting room..." 

She could see those heated fantasy moments playing so 
acutely in her mind. Mulder was turning out to be quite 
the storyteller--they'd have to take an evening just to let 
him tell her about a few of those "hundred ways." She smiled 
against his lips and kissed him slowly, letting her tongue slip 
against his, taking her time to get to know his feel and taste. 
He'd had his turn to play with her, now it was hers. 

Mulder lay still while she kissed his nose and chin, nibbled his 
neck, and draping herself over him, lowered her warm tongue 
to his nipples. From the sounds he was making, he seemed to 
appreciate this type of foreplay. She continued the light 
touches all the way down his chest and stomach to his cock, 
where she licked him briefly, tasting herself on his slick 
solid skin. 

****************************** 

Mulder inched himself away from her seductive tongue to the 
head of the bed. He shoved a few pillows behind him, and 
motioned her to climb up on top of him. She came easily, 
willingly into his arms and they kissed slowly, eyes closed. 
He could feel her wetness on his cock and balls cooling in 
the air. He'd never known a woman to respond to him like 
this, to be so aroused. It made him want to try all that much 
more to please her. He wondered if she enjoyed the arousing 
flavor he tasted on her lips--of man and woman fused in sex. 
He broke their kiss to see how she was regarding him with a 
low burning hunger that made his head feel light. He wanted 
to make it so good for her, to watch her as he brought her to 
the brink. 

"Let me taste you again," he roughly urged and she slithered 
up his chest until her thighs were spread over his face. Her 
fingertips eased her lips apart and his tongue was in her 
folds, licking her savagely, his lips closing over her clit, 
sucking until he heard her gasp. The smell of her was 
everywhere and he hadn't realized he had begun to become 
desensitized to it. He squeezed the lushness of her ass as he 
took his final wet tastes, trying to placate the impulse to 
devour her for a few more minutes longer. She was quivering 
over him, so close to bursting. As much as he ached to make 
her come this way, so intimate he could see it blooming, he 
knew he needed to be in her when she came apart. So with a 
heart of lead, he let her go. 

She slipped back from his lips and settled herself down to 
the head of his cock. She closed her eyes, relaxed herself, and 
descended to the base. She sighed pleasantly at the new way 
he filled her, and ground herself onto him as he took his 
thumbs and spread her swollen folds. 

************************* 

"Look in the mirror." 

Scully looked up as she moved languidly over him, gratifyingly 
filled with him, catching the arched reflection of herself, her 
breasts jutting and her nipples taut. His thumb just brushed 
over her clit in a light even stroke and she closed her eyes. 
She felt an incredible dark gnawing pull in her abdomen 
that was flaring into something remarkable. His thumbs took 
turns teasing her clit, first with deliberation, and then a 
moment later with the barest of contact. His bereft touch 
left her pounding with need and turning her attention to 
the gathering sensations deep inside her pelvis. She had 
never come from just the feel of a man inside her, but she 
could tell his method was going to take her there very soon-- 
as long as they kept the movement nice and slow, under 
her guidance. 

"Can you feel me? Can you feel what you do to me? 
I'm right here," he said, laying a warm hand across 
her abdomen. "Inside you right here." 

Her movements became slower and she felt an overwhelming 
urge to arch further back and let his cock work against the 
far wall of her core. He responded by flexing his length so 
he nudged against her inner trembling flesh just right. 

"You should feel it here," he said, drawing a light circle 
around her abdomen with his fingertips. "And here..." She gasped 
as his middle finger trailed down her spine to her tailbone. 

She leaned back again, watching their reflections move against 
each other in the mirror. She could see his forced concentration 
and her serene expression as her climax began flashing through 
her in gentle waves, an orgasm that wasn't centered fast and 
narrow in her clitoris, but ran freely the length of her body. 
He wasn't touching her sex at all, his thumbs had moved to 
her nipples. He was just barely moving his hips, lengthening 
the duration of those light light waves. The seabirds were 
coming in to land, their wings fluttering. She was falling 
apart, and it was perfect, so easy, so right. Her mouth opened 
and she began to sigh his name softly over and over as the 
warm tenderness of climax enveloped her and began to 
flood her in a sustained ravishment that didn't seem to end. 

************************* 

Mulder knew it was all going to end soon and he almost 
couldn't bear that. Not even if he could have her again and 
again every night for the rest of his life. This was everything-- 
these floating seconds of realization that he had brought her 
to this. That his hands and mouth and cock had brought this 
sophisticated and reserved woman to this state of shameless 
abandonment. 

Watching her move over him, watching her face painted in 
ecstasy as she came--instead of bringing him over, it made 
him want to cry, brokenly at length until he had purged 
himself of every minute of loneliness he had endured in his 
life. And she was calling to him, crying out to him sotto voce, 
and the words she said all meant him, him, him. 

He waited for her to come back to herself. She flopped 
unsteadily forward, touching her hand to her lips in surprise. 
She yipped in hyper sensation as he gathered her up into 
his arms, still joined. He held her close, sitting up, as she 
sighed and shuddered and wrapped her legs around his hips. 
She hadn't nearly recovered yet, but he couldn't stop himself 
from the need to be in her. His mouth descended over hers, 
penetrating those lips that had said all those pretty things. 

She was touching his face as they kissed, drawing her fingers 
tenderly through his hair. His arms held her hips to his groin 
as he bucked up into her over and over, pressing her soft 
rounded breasts to him, needing even more of her. The feeling 
was killing him with sweetness; he couldn't stand it anymore. 
It almost hurt like all those years ago when he first learned 
how desperately he wanted her and thought he could never 
have her, not like this. His cock was throbbing, insistent; 
he couldn't get enough. Maybe he'd waited too long. 

He groaned in frustration and pitched them back against 
the bed. On top again, he filled her--thrusting without finesse 
or accuracy--need outweighing grace as he struggled to 
release the powerful tension gripping him. 

"You feel so good," she whispered, her fingers touching the 
damp hair at his temple. "Don't rush for me." 

"I can't," he mumbled. "Sometimes I..." 

"Shhh, look at me--" 

He opened his eyes, and beyond the veil of his own exertion, 
saw her smiling serenely up at him. So pleased with him, happy. 
For the first time, since the first day they met, she seemed 
completely happy with him. 

"Scully..." He slowed and touched her cheek. He needed to 
hear her say it, to tell him just once. Just this one time and 
then he'd never ask her again about what she showed him a 
hundred times a day in so many subtle ways. 

Her eyes closed and opened soft and blue. She nodded her 
head, kissing his cheek. "I do, Mulder. So much. So much." 

The shackles that had been holding his climax in a vice 
melted and fell away and he took her hard and fast, 
watching her eyes go wide with his sudden velocity. Her 
legs wrapped tightly around him, her hands pressing against 
his ass, whimpering, begging for more. He gave her more, 
feeling that incredible rush in his balls rise and fill, flooding 
through him to spill over the end of his cock, buried hot and 
deep in her, kissing her, drowning the wordless sounds of his 
pleasure and relief in her, as his body convulsed, opening the 
spillway to her, filling her with warmth and acceptance. 

************************************* 

Mulder couldn't move. An amazingly pleasant sensation of heat 
and tingles and mind-numbing hormones had arrested his 
consciousness. He felt unfuckingbelieveably wonderful-- 
desired, loved, and completely, utterly sated. Even breathing 
felt unbearably pleasurable. He could barely hold his eyes open. 
Euphoria--that was the name of this feeling. It had been so 
long since he had achieved this light state. And there was 
another word that went with it, he surmised as his thumb 
brushed the soft skin over her navel--happiness. A very real 
and simple thing. Something not hard to define, but nearly 
impossible to achieve. There was truth in this. 

"Mulder?" He was lying on his back, holding her against his side, 
the sheets and blankets tangled around them, while she traced 
his ribs with a fingertip. 

"...hmm?" 

"Why don't you wear the pinstripes anymore?" 

"Pinstripes?" 

"The suit. I was fond of that one." 

His fingers found her spine and began to slowly stroke along it 
as she inhaled and exhaled against him. 

"Wow, I haven't pulled that one out since...my first informant. 
I thought stripes were an '80s thing." 

"They're a damn sharp G-Man thing. I think you should 
reconsider." 

"What made you think of...? Hold on. A certain recent house 
guest of mine wasn't nosing through my drawers and closets, 
was she?" 

"Not necessarily. I was just...cleaning." 

"Remind me to have you spend the night more often." 

"I will. Preferably when you're home." 

A wave of sleepy reflection kept them contentedly quiet for the 
next minute. Mulder continued to stroke her back, wondering 
fuzzily if enough minutes of proper "cuddling" had passed for 
him to stop fighting off the overpowering urge to snooze. He 
looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her cheek pressed to 
his chest rising and falling with his breath. It was probably okay, 
he reasoned, and let the disjointed hypnogogic images take him 
over. 

"Are you falling asleep?" 

He snapped conscious. She was looking up at him. "Yeah...sorry, 
I've unfortunately trained myself to do that. See why I wanted to 
hold off?" 

"You're cute when you're sleepy. Go ahead, I'll watch you." 

He closed his eyes and sleep waited only seconds to take him 
again. 

He was dreaming about licking a creamy glob of tiramisu from 
her fingers when he felt something faintly caress his eyelashes. 
A tiny sweet breeze. He opened an eye. She was leaning over 
him, smiling, her lips just forming an "O." 

"Scully..." he mumbled. 

She smiled like an elf. 

"You're blowing on me." 

"I know. It's okay, Mulder. Go to sleep." 

****************************** 

Holy shit! I'm DONE! I finished it. 
Whoooooooooooo! 

There's a nice romantic follow up to this 
coming along in a few days....Atoll....<g> 
Oy! Do I ever have a crick in my neck. 

Send a masseuse, preferably a Swedish-trained 
Mulder-clone, to: Terma99@aol.com. 

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