Mulder answered the unexpected knock on his door. It was Friday evening—he had gotten home from work not fifteen minutes ago, it couldn't be Scully, he had just seen her, but he didn't really get any other visitors besides her.
He was still happy to see her standing on his doorstep—elated, in fact. He had spent the whole week with her and it had been laden with sexual tension after he had caught her reading that sex education book, and as frustrating as it could be to constantly see what you cannot have, he was grateful for every second that he got to spend with her. One could never have too much Scully.
"Hey! Miss me?"
Scully quirked her brow and tried to hide a smile. "I stopped by the lab on my way out and they had that report you wanted ready. Thought I'd bring it over."
Mulder stepped aside and ushered her in. "You didn't have to do that, Scully. It could've waited until Monday."
She shrugged. "I saw you take the file home. I knew you'd be working on it."
"You're right. Thank you. This will help," he said, holding up the folder she had handed to him. "Want to stay for a beer?"
"Sure." She took her coat off and Mulder went into the kitchen. Something on his coffee table made her stop dead in her tracks. She started when Mulder came up behind her, offering a bottle of Shiner Bock.
"Why so jumpy?"
"Mulder..?"
He followed her gaze to the two books on the table and his whole body instantly went hot. Fuck. Shit. He should've thought to hide them before he answered the door.
"Why..?"
"Uh, what you said interested me, about the book. It sounded ...interesting." Good save, idiot. "You know I'm always looking for book recommendations." He had never asked for a book recommendation in his life. Hopefully, she wouldn't call him out on it.
"Mulder, I doubt you've ever asked for a book recommendation in your life."
Oof, called the fuck out. "Tell that to my book club," he joked, sheepishly.
"Swapping conspiracy theories with the Gunmen isn't a book club."
"No?" said Mulder, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "We can start one, then. Me and you. We already have our first book." He picked up his copy of State of Vulva and held it up, flashing what he hoped was a charming smile that would get him out of this hellish situation he had created for himself. "Did you finish it?"
Scully nodded, apprehensive about going forward with the conversation but not liking her other options which were to bluntly and transparently change the subject or try to make a hasty albeit awkward exit. "Did you?"
"I did. I enjoyed it, very informative. And I'm about halfway through this one." He motioned toward the other book on the table, Pillow Talk, also written by Dr. Jean Milburn along with her husband, Remi.
Scully bent down to pick it up. "I saw this at the bookstore, but he kinda skeeved me out," she said pointing to Remi lying next to Jean on the cover.
"I can see that, yeah. Her insights are far more astute and entertaining than his."
"And this one is about relationships…"
"Right…"
They were standing awfully close to one another, each holding a sex book, which made perfect stand-ins to the elephant in the room.
"Is it any good?" Scully asked, chancing a glance at him.
"Oh yeah," said Mulder. He set the book and his beer down, then took Pillow Talk from her and leafed through the pages. "There's a section on trust ...here it is." Scully leaned into him to see what he was showing her. He indicated a paragraph with his finger that described what trust between partners should look like. Mulder gave her time to read it then said, "That's us, Scully."
She became very aware of her heart beating in her chest and the heat rising up her neck. "Except we're not sexual partners," she said, faintly—and anyone with ears could've heard the profound disappointment in her voice at that fact.
Mulder had ears and, yep, he heard it—he felt it in his bones because he shared that same disappointment. "No, we're not," he affirmed, sadly.
"Too bad," Scully sighed.
Mulder whipped his head to look at her. "What?"
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and took a step back. She hadn't meant to say that out loud, she was just thinking it. Shit. Fuck. "It's, uh, too bad because apparently…" she waved her hand at the book, hoping he knew what she meant with this erratic explanation and gesture. Scully really hoped that if he did know what she meant he would have mercy on her and summarily drop it.
"We could put it to the test," suggested Mulder, tentatively. He felt he now knew that she wanted him the same way that he wanted her, but she seemed to not pick up on his side of it. Or she was stubborn. That was probably it. She is so damned stubborn, he thought. Mulder smiled as he watched her panic behind her stoic facade.
Scully scoffed trying to appear unfazed, but inside she was an anxious mess. "That's not a reason for us to have sex, Mulder."
"It's not my reason." He placed the book down on the table and moved closer to her. "My reason is that I'm in love with you."
"Wha-?" The clipped word came out on an exhale as all the oxygen felt like it was suddenly sucked out of her lungs. "Mmuh-" She wanted to give him a chance to take it back, but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into him, crashing their lips together.
She let herself indulge in the kiss for a while—a long while—before breaking it to find her bearings. Placing the hand still holding the beer at his chest, Scully put an arm's length of distance between them. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything, we could just keep kissing."
Her eyes flitted up to meet his—he was practically beaming at her; his face was flushed, he had on a goofy smile, and his beautiful hazel eyes were filled with affection and darkened with lust. This would definitely continue, she just needed a moment—coming to the realization that the man she'd been in love with for years was in love with her, too, required a celebratory pause. Scully grinned back at him. "I knew you'd be a good kisser."
His smile grew even wider, then he took the bottle from her and set it next to his abandoned one on the table, taking her hand to guide her down to sit on the couch with him. "Actually, Dr. Jean says that there are no bad kissers. Bad kissing is a sign of a poor connection between two people."
"Ah," said Scully, crawling into his lap and straddling him, his arms already opened to receive her. "Dr. Jean is very wise."
Mulder hummed his agreement and ran his hands up and down her back. "She'd have to be to finally get us two numbskulls together."
Scully chuckled. "I can't believe this is happening."
"Me either. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up, lying here with a mess in my pants."
She laughingly purred and grinded her hips into him. Mulder was hard beneath her—moisture seeped into her panties. "Enough talking," she whispered, placing a slender digit to his lips.
"But there's a whole chapter on dirty talking," he mumbled around her finger.
"Oh, in that case, please share the fruits of this new-found knowledge." She moved her hands around him and played with the hair at the base of his neck, continuing to rock against him.
"It's kind of like the kissing thing," he said, throatily as he grew more and more aroused, "everyone is into dirty talking if it's with the right person."
"Makes sense," said Scully, peppering his forehead, his cheeks, and chin with light kisses.
"And using dirty words isn't necessary, although it can certainly heighten the effect. Just saying something simple like 'Touch me' or 'I want to be inside you' can work just as well."
Scully whimpered. Yes, those worked quite well—she would give it a try. "Touch me."
He pushed air past his lips slowly in an attempt to temper his raging libido. Dana Katherine Scully was giving him permission to touch her in ways that he had only fantasized about. "Where do you want me to touch you, Scully?"
"Oh god, everywhere," Scully moaned. She sat back a little and started to unbutton her blouse. "But you can start here." And with that she peeled her shirt back and off her shoulders, revealing a white satin bra and the most enticing swell of cleavage. The white silky fabric and her smooth, pale skin made her bust look like it was sculpted from the finest marble by divine hands.
He cupped her gingerly, still in awe that he was allowed to do it, then squeezed and caressed her more firmly as she pushed her chest into his hands. "Scully" came out in a reverential whisper.
She let him take his time, but her need to have his hands on her skin, on her bare breasts, was escalating. He either read her mind or had the same need because he snuck around her back and unclasped her bra, gasping as the cups fell away and he could view her tits in all their naked glory.
Mulder proceeded to fondle her the same way he had when she was covered, starting slow and gentle, then rougher when she expressed as much with the sweetest little mewling sounds. He licked along their downward slope, sucked the tender flesh of her outer curves, and captured a pert nipple, softly, in his teeth. She hissed loudly at that last part, her fingers gripping his hair at the scalp, holding his face tightly to her chest. He paused in between them before moving to the other, nuzzling his face into the warm, perfume-scented valley. "God, Scully, your tits are perfect," he groaned, his praise muffled against her skin.
Her giggling response was halted when he sucked the other nipple into his mouth and flicked it with his tongue. "Uuhngh!"
His large hands spanned her back, holding her now squirming petite body. He kept up his attention on her breast, but it was difficult because the corners of his lips kept trying to form a smile—this is fucking heaven, his brain exclaimed.
Scully was quickly coming undone. Mulder proved to be very talented with his mouth as she had expected him to be. If he made her feel this good by sucking on her tits, just imagine the heights of pleasure he could bring her to by going down on her. She felt a new flood of moisture between her legs.
Again, it was as if he read her mind, or the need to taste her had become too great. Mulder kissed his way up her neck as he scrunched her skirt up more around her waist. His fingers found their way to her sodden sex and he grumbled, "Damn pantyhose."
Scully scooted off his lap and laid down on the sofa beside him, putting one foot on the floor, spreading her legs for him. "Rip them ...with your teeth," she dared him.
His eyes lit up at her playful challenge and he positioned himself in the hot juncture between her thighs. He could smell her arousal and he was as good as salivating now, knowing what was to come. (Pun intended.) He bit down on the gauzy material and pinched it with his fingers. Adding a growl to the motion he tore a nice, big hole in the pesky fabric which resulted in an accompanying and satisfying ripping sound. Scully happily squealed—she had never before made such a noise.
One barrier down, Mulder still had to contend with her underwear which he was thrilled, for some reason, to find that they matched her bra. His Scully was so put together and sophisticated—he should've expected nothing less. There was no time for dealing with torn scraps of nylon in order to slide her panties down—he needed his mouth on her right this second—so he pulled it aside and leaned in to have his very first taste of his pretty little partner's pretty little pussy. He hesitated, hovering so close to her that he could feel her heat on his face. "No faking," he warned.
Her lust-ridden brain didn't understand what he meant at first, then she connected the dots to their conversation earlier in the week. "I won't have to fake it with you. I know it. Not ever."
Mulder grinned widely at her and she smiled back, watching as his lips pressed against her sensitive sex with excruciating tenderness. Her head fell back as he repeated these light, whispering kisses all along her slit and inner thighs. "Oh my god," she said breathlessly.
Then his tongue entered her and she nearly shattered. He hadn't even touched her clit yet and her body was already shaking with pre-orgasmic tremors. Mulder sensed this, so he made slower strokes inside her, creating an exquisite build-up. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna ...come ...come so hard ….Mmmulderrr." He slid his three middle fingers into her and pumped them as he moved up to lick her clit. "Yesyesyesyessss," she chanted as her climax crested. He curled his fingers at the same time sucking her plump bundle of nerves between his lips, and it sent her over the edge, into space, into euphoric oblivion.
She came back to him, slowly blinking her eyes open, the stars fading, replaced by his face sporting a proud grin. "Wow."
"That's what I was going to say," laughed Scully.
"I want to make you do that again."
"Aren't you ambitious," she said, reaching down between them to palm his erection with her hand. He was still fully clothed and that needed to change. Now. "Get naked, G-man."
Mulder immediately complied, standing up and ridding himself of his work shirt and trousers. Scully was doing the same, unzipping her bunched up skirt, peeling off the ruined hose, and adding her satin panties to the growing pile of their discarded clothing. Mulder shimmied his boxer briefs off and they both took a moment to admire each other's nude bodies.
He stood in stunned silence, her beauty taking his breath away, and then feeling faint when she dropped to her knees in front of him. She cupped his balls with one hand and stroked his stiff length with the other, all seven inches of hot, silky steel. Scully licked her lips and looked up at him—he had his eyes squeezed shut already like he was bracing for impact. "Mulder," she purred.
"Hm?"
"Watch me."
He let out a strained groan—she was doing wonders just with her hands. "I don't know if I can handle it," he said, but he peeked down at her anyway. Her pink lips circled his moistened tip and he saw his dick disappear into her mouth. "Oh fuck," rasped Mulder. He held the eye contact for a little longer, but when she started bobbing her head, taking him deeper each time, he had to look away.
Scully hummed as his cock slid to the back of her throat. He was big and thick and she loved the feeling of him in her mouth, her lips running along the ridges and veins. She clenched her thighs together as thoughts of him inside her, stretching her, filling her aching pussy, danced in her mind. She wanted to suck him off until he came, have his cum shoot down her throat, but she also wanted to ride him, have them face to face so they could climb to ecstasy together, as one.
They were so in sync—just as she had been thinking that Mulder pulled his hips back, his cock releasing from her lips with a pop. "We have time for all of it," he said in response to the adorable pout she had on her face. "I need to be inside you." He sat on the sofa, his impressive member standing tall in his lap, wet and glistening with her saliva. "Get over here, Scully."
"How did you know I wanted to be on top?" she asked as she straddled him, rubbing herself along his shaft.
"A good partner pays attention and anticipates their lover's needs," Mulder said, loosely quoting Dr. Jean. "Although I'm not sure how I managed, I think my brain left me there for a second."
Scully smiled slyly and rose up on her knees, taking him in her hand and guiding him to her entrance. She teased them both by grazing her slick folds with his head, his hands firmly on her hips. They locked eyes and she sunk down on him—they held like that, neither of them breathing, taking in the gravity of the moment of being so completely joined.
Sharing an exhale as if they were one body now, they started to move; Scully rocking and bouncing and Mulder thrusting up into her, all of it perfectly timed. The slapping of skin on skin sounded loudly in the room, underscored with their harsh, heavy breaths.
Mulder was nearing release and Scully could see him holding back for her. "I'm close," she told him.
He snuck his hand between them and found her clit. "Come for me, Scully," he commanded while rubbing fast circles against her.
"Oh god!" she cried out, followed by something unintelligible and a high-pitched moan.
He felt her walls clamp down around him, her pussy became so tight; she was squeezing him with these intense ripples of pleasure, and he exploded. Mulder came with a ragged shout, gasping for air as his orgasm sustained, her hot, wet cunt milking every last drop from him.
Scully slumped against him, spent. Once Mulder caught his breath, he moved them to lie on the length of the couch, still hugging each other, his softening cock still inside her. He wrapped a leg over her hip and she hummed contentedly. "I'll say it this time: 'Wow.'"
"Wow indeed."
"Thank you, Dr. Jean," Scully said into the crook of his neck.
He chuckled. "We sure put her advice to good use, huh?" He felt her nod her head in agreement.
"You owe me a blow job, Mulder."
"I owe you a blow job?"
"Yeah," she murmured almost sleepily which was in strange contrast to what she said next, "I want you to come in mouth." She felt his flaccid dick twitch inside her and she smiled.
"I think I can repay you sooner rather than later." He was already becoming aroused again. Good god, the power of this woman. "And I have some other tips and tricks to try from that book."
"Oh yeah? What else did you learn?"
"Did you know there is such a thing as scrotal anxiety?"
Scully lifted her head. "What?!"
Mulder laughed. "I don't know why that was the first thing that came to my mind." She erupted into giggles, shaking with laughter in his arms, and he squeezed her tighter—a thought from earlier repeating itself, this is fucking heaven.