Title: Tease
From: Evan Black EvanJ4mesBlack@gmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A girls' night out for Mulder.


TEASE



Scully couldn't quite remember whose idea it was to invite Mulder to Holly's bachelorette party, but she sure as hell knew it wasn't hers.

One minute she'd been steered away from Mulder's side as they walked through the bullpen back to the elevator after a meeting with Skinner, the next they all had a date at the Xenon club that very night. She'd accepted without hesitation - Holly was her best, her only, real girlfriend at the Bureau and she was quite happy to skip dinner for one and spend the night with her.

But then somehow the talk among the four or five women around Holly's desk had turned to Mulder, and Amy Anderson, Holly's colleague in research - a tall, stunning brunette - had said: 'You should bring him!' 

Scully had smiled at the joke, but before she could protest, someone else had waved Mulder over from where he was waiting impatiently beside the elevator.

It was the first time Scully had ever seen Mulder invited to any social occasion and she saw his eyes flicker sideways as soon as Holly said the words - like he was looking for an escape route. In an instant he was transformed from a cool, calm and collected FBI Special Agent into a small, wary boy. He looked like a nine-year-old who'd been ordered to report for page-boy duty and who suspects there's a frilly shirt and a cummerbund lurking just around the corner.

'Uh, I don't think so,' he said immediately. 

'Why not?' Demanded Amy. Scully didn't know her that well, but sort of hated her.

'Well for a start, it's a bachelorETTE party.'

'That's why you should be honored,' said Lucy Collingston, touching Mulder's arm in a way that made Scully want to hit her hand with a claw-hammer. 

'True,' smiled Holly. 'We wouldn't invite just any man Agent Mulder. You can be an honorary girlfriend for the night.'

'There's probably a compliment in there somewhere,' he shrugged, 'but I'm not sure I have the balls left to go hunt it down.'

The girls giggled and even Scully smiled, but she came to his defence. 'Leave him be. What man wants to spend the night with a bunch of drunken women?'

The look they all gave her made her realize that the girls in secretarial and research figured pretty much any man with an inch of dick would jump at the chance. 

Any OTHER man. Mulder was already backing away with his hands up.

Until Holly's smile faltered. 

Scully knew Holly genuinely liked Mulder, and that he liked her. She was one of the few women under 70 in the Hoover building who didn't undress him with her eyes whenever he passed their desks. And, let's face it, Scully mused, the rest of those few were probably lesbians. Holly was devoted to Mike, her hunky fiance, and so Scully knew she had no ulterior motive when she looked red-faced at Mulder and said: 'We didn't mean to embarrass you Agent Mulder. I'm sorry if we did.'

It was at that moment that Scully knew Mulder would be coming with them. 

As she'd mentally predicted, her partner's guilt complex kicked into overdrive and Mulder immediately tried to put Holly at ease.

'That's okay, Holly, I was just kidding. I'd be honored to come.'

Scully met his eyes over Holly's head and read his real feelings there.

Still, she never got to spend time with Mulder in a social setting that wasn't his apartment or hers working over Chinese food or watching B-movies on his sagging couch, or in some slimeball diner when they were on the road together. Now the invitation had been issued and reluctantly accepted, she found herself curious to see how he'd cope in a group. And a group of women, at that.

Holly was delighted. She squeezed Mulder's hand and said: 'Seven o'clock at the Xenon. Bring your dancing shoes!'

Scully had to stifle a laugh at the look THAT brought to Mulder's face.

'C'mon Mulder,' she smiled engagingly as they got into the elevator, 'It'll be fun.'

'Fun for whom Scully?'

'For everyone, hopefully.'

He looked up at the floors counting down to the basement and murmured: 'O-kay.'

***

So here they were. Three drinks in, and Amy was whining for Mulder to dance with her, pretty much the way she had been since they'd sat down.

'It's a bachelorette party,' he pointed out. 'I don't want to ruin the dynamic. What would you do if I wasn't here?'

'Dance with each other, I guess, ' said Amy poutily.

Mulder yanked Scully out of her seat and thrust her at Amy. 'Be my guest,' he said.

'Mulder!' Scully whined. 'I don't want to dance!'

'It'll be fun Scully. For everyone!'

She glared at his deadpan face, knowing how much he was enjoying throwing her line back at her.

Amy pulled Scully onto the dance floor and started gyrating. Through the crowds, Scully saw Mulder watching her with a faint smile. The sonofabitch always managed to turn the tables on her somehow, even when he was the only man at a girls' night out.

Her view was blocked by Amy, who danced round until she was between Mulder and Scully and who now ran her hands up and down her own body seductively, waggling her butt in Mulder's direction. Even with a partial view, Scully could see Mulder's eyes drop to Amy's pert ass and linger there. Jealousy stabbed through her before she could stop it, pat it down and send it on its way, the way she would have if she were completely sober.

The bitch. Two could play at that game.

Bumping against other dancers, Scully worked her way around Amy until her own back was to Mulder. She couldn't see his face, of course, but she knew the short, backless blue cocktail dress she was wearing touched her in all the right places. She'd bought it for a stupid price for the simple reason that the back was cut so low that it was very nearly obscene, so she could imagine the view Mulder was getting of her shimmying ass.

While her mind was behind her, Scully was suddenly surprised when Amy put her hands on her shoulders and smiled as they moved together.

'Nice moves, Dana.'

She was even more surprised when Amy's right hand ran down her arm before leaving her skin momentarily to rest on her hip. She looked at Amy, but the woman's eyes were staring over her shoulder - presumably at Mulder.

Scully started to turn to see, but Amy suddenly pulled her close and, as the music changed, started to move sensuously against her.

Scully was embarrassed. If Amy was a man, she'd have stepped backwards with a firm hand on his chest and given him a hard stare to let him know he'd overstepped the mark. 

But Amy wasn't a man. And putting a firm hand on her chest would hardly have discouraged her.

Scully felt herself move stiffly with Amy, every nerve-ending alert for the next move. The next move was of Amy's right hand around to the small of her back. It rested there just above the curve of her ass, where Mulder usually touched her. But without the clothing. Just skin on skin. Scully closed her eyes and thought about Mulder's hand touching her like that - bare, naked, warm. She relaxed into the memory of it; his fingers long and strong, sometimes just resting there, sometimes pressing a little to guide her gently through a doorway or around a corner, as if she were blind - or he was - and the only way they could make it through together was by this small connection of his fingertips against her; his thumb sometimes moving gently, his pinkie occasionally so close to the split of her ass that she had to resist arching in invitation. It made her shiver - and Amy took the shiver as permission to continue her exploration of the backless part of Scully's dress.

The thought of Mulder watching them turned Scully on. Let him watch, she thought meanly. Let him see what he's missing. Okay, so Amy was a woman, but let him see that she was a woman too - a woman who should be desired, a woman who had needs of her own, not just some reliable old workhorse to be whisked around the country to a series of heartless motel rooms where the walls were so thin that most nights she didn't even dare masturbate in case he heard her - although such considerations apparently never stopped HIM... Scully groaned at the memories.

'You can touch me too, you know.' Amy's words made Scully's eyes fly open. What the hell was she doing?! She felt her skin heat with embarrassment and she tried to move away from Amy, but the woman tightened her grip and pressed Scully's hips into her own. 

Scully tried to turn. Through the other dancers and the dark, pulsating lights, Scully caught a glimpse of Mulder. His sardonic smile was gone and his mouth was slightly open as if he were having trouble breathing through his nose. He was frowning and his eyes were dark and intense - and didn't flicker when Scully looked at him. With a jolt she realized it was because he wasn't looking at her face. His eyes burned into the small of her naked back where Amy's hand rested. 

Mulder looked up and their eyes met across the room. She read him: he was shocked and disgusted with her. And he had every right to be, she thought. Scully started to tug away from Amy but Mulder stood abruptly and Scully could see by Holly's surprised, upturned face that she'd been in the middle of talking to him. He glanced down and mumbled something at her, then picked up his jacket and left. 

Scully went after him. One minute she was in Amy's arms on the dance floor, the next she was elbowing her way through seemingly-endless crowds of bumping, grinding clubbers.

She caught a glimpse of Mulder heading for the exit and hurried out. The night air was cool and gentle on her heated skin and she felt it sober her up fast. With sobriety came another wave of heated shame at the way she'd behaved. Allowing Amy to grope her, just to tease Mulder. How old was she?!

She looked around and for a moment thought he'd gone for good, but then caught a glimpse of him walking quickly down the sidewalk. Scully went after him.

'Mulder!'

He didn't turn, although she thought he must have heard her. 

'Mulder!!'

He took a right into a narrow alleyway. Scully debated whether to go after him or go back inside. The club held no attraction for her now. She knew the only attraction it had ever really held was that it contained Mulder - and he had left.

She headed for the alleyway. 

He must've slowed once he was off the main drag, because he wasn't far ahead of her now. 

'Godammit Mulder! Will you wait!'

He stopped. At last. And reluctantly turned to face her. 

'I was calling you Mulder!' She was slightly out of breath as she joined him.

'I know,' he said, looking past her - his face impassive.

'Then why didn't you wait for me?!'

He said nothing - just shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, unwilling to meet her eyes.

'What's wrong?' The question came out more sharply than she'd meant it to. She knew what was wrong and she knew that the anger in her voice would have been better directed at herself than at Mulder.

Again he was silent. Now that she'd caught up to Mulder, she was beginning to wish she hadn't. She had no idea what to say to him and he obviously didn't want to talk to her. He just stood there, not meeting her eyes, shifting restlessly as if he'd rather be anywhere but here with her.

It was clear Mulder was embarrassed by her tipsy display on the dancefloor, by her shameless submission to the hands of another woman. He knew he must be embarrassed by it, because SHE sure as hell was. The thought that Mulder had witnessed her juvenile behavior made her feel panicky. How could she face him tomorrow in the office? How could she ever face him again? Why she had rushed after him to provoke a confrontation now was a complete mystery to her. Scully felt a dizzying sense that the fragile balance of their relationship - a card-house built of trust, respect and unspoken attraction - had been blown away in an instant and stomped under her careless stilettoed heels. 

Scully's first instinct at this thought was to cry. Her second was an unexpected flicker of anger. To suppress the crying, she reached for the anger. Why was SHE always the one who had to keep it all together? Why did SHE have to make the compromises and concessions to normality? Mulder got drunk. He got drugged. He did embarrassing stuff! He'd been bawled out by a politically-correct dwarf; he'd sung the theme to Shaft in his underwear; he'd tipped a legless bank manager out of his wheelchair, for god's sake! But somehow he always ended up being right; somehow it was okay when HE did it! She could never get away with a single damned thing as they worked towards a goal that was always HIS goal. It WAS all about Mulder, despite what she'd ever told him to the contrary. And she? What was she? When was it going to be about her? What did she get out of her association with Spooky Mulder apart from the fact that her life was a joke now too. A joke of a life, and their work was formless, fantastical, sometimes foolish. And never resolved. 

Just like THEY were never resolved. 

For six years she and Mulder had skittered around each other like a pair of crazy protons, never touching, never able to break free. A limbo of restless energy and invisible bonds.

All gone in an instant because she made one silly mistake on a dance floor. It was just a bit of fun; just a tease. But Mulder was acting like it was the fall of Western Civilization. Like she'd done something unforgivably stupid he could never forget or forgive. Like it was over.

Again the misdirected anger flamed in her - more brightly this time.

'Can't you take a joke Mulder?' The words came out more bitterly than she'd meant them to.

He finally looked straight at her - with eyes that were burning. Scully flinched away from him as if his look were something physical, but his hand snaked out and he gripped her wrist and - before she had any idea what he was going to do - he pressed her palm hard against himself. 

'Does that feel like a joke to you Scully?'

Scully gasped as she felt the searing ridge of his erection under the smooth cloth of his suit pants. 

'Jesus, Mulder!'

She instinctively tried to tug her hand back, but Mulder held it there for just a second longer and she felt him move under her, before he released her hand in a gesture of dismissal.

For a heated moment they looked into each others eyes. Scully felt the blood rush to her head and her sex, and was grateful that the darkness masked her blush. The sudden desire put a lump in her throat and water in her knees as comprehension hit her: Mulder wasn't disgusted. He was aroused. So aroused that he'd had to leave the club. She throbbed with the thought of it. Mulder's eyes were so fierce with anger and need that she couldn't look any longer for fear of revealing herself; she dropped her gaze and turned her back to him. 

She heard a small sound behind her - maybe disgust, maybe regret - and he walked away.

***

Scully got in early.

She'd woken at 3am - precisely 45 minutes after she'd managed to fall asleep - and worried about going to work. Going to see Mulder. Wondering how to behave that would preserve her dignity and their friendship. Playing and replaying every scenario she could possibly face, and her response to each.

She could only imagine three. 

1. Mulder would act as if nothing had happened. She would do the same if it killed her.
2. Mulder would hate her now. He would push her away and rebuild the walls that she had taken years to breach between them. She couldn't bear the thought; it would kill her if he did that.
3. Mulder would grab her, push her down over the desk and take her roughly from behind (she had to admit that this scenario was unlikely, but it would be everything she'd ever fantasized about) - but then he'd toss her aside to teach her a lesson in teasing. The thought of having Mulder that way, and then not having him, was unbearable. It would kill her.

Scully couldn't help noticing that she died in all these scenarios, which made getting out of bed and going into the office an act of such bravery (or stupidity) that she trembled all the way there. She was determined to get in early so that she didn't have to be the one walking in to the office; she could be the one pretending to be engrossed in their expense claims, and make him take the lead. He would have to act and she would just react. Getting in early and reacting was the sum total of her plan, which was hardly great strategy, but she figured that at least getting in first would give her a slight edge. 

At 6.48 she opened the door of the basement office - only to find Mulder already at his desk.

Or STILL at his desk. 

Mulder wore the same clothes he had yesterday and was unshaven and rumpled. A shock of hair sticking out over one ear and a red mark in a perfect right angle on his cheek, told her he'd slept with his face on his blotter. An unexpected jolt of desire shot through her at the sight of him, taking her completely off-guard.

'Scully.'

'Mulder.'

Her voice was surprisingly calm and even. She hung up her coat and picked lint off her sleeve but inside she was shaking. Everything was different! Before last night, Mulder was one thing; today he was another. Before last night, Mulder was her FBI partner; wholly professional; anything more than that was only in her head. Today he was a man whose hard cock she had touched through his suit. She had felt his heat against her palm, felt the blood coursing through him, felt the little thrust of his hips...

She was so hot for him right now that she went to the filing cabinet to get the expense claim forms.

'Scully?'

'Yes Mulder?' Her heart thumped in her throat. Every nerve in her body was tingling to hear what he was going to say, how he was going to be, how she was going to react. She bristled with anticipation and her fingers felt numb as they rifled blindly through the forms. She had to stay strong - had to stay ready to fight him; she had to be prepared for the final showdown...

He sighed. 'I'm so sorry.'

Scully blinked in surprise and then felt relief surge through her like joy. A fourth scenario. One she hadn't thought of in the dark, worrisome hours of this morning, but which she should have, she realized now. Mulder being the bigger person. Mulder shouldering the blame that was at least half hers. Mulder making things okay - with just a few small words - that she'd thought might never be okay again. Mulder had opened a door between them and suddenly the dank, windowless office seemed to be filled with sunshine.

It was only when her fear left her in a rush that she realized that's what her overwhelming emotion had been for the past 10 hours.

'I should be the one apologizing Mulder. I behaved disgracefully.'

He got up and came over to her, looking down into her eyes.

'No, I behaved disgracefully Scully. You have nothing to be ashamed of.'

Did Mulder always stand this close to her? God, she could feel the heat of his body, smell the faintness of yesterday's aftershave. Suddenly she wondered if he'd come back to the office last night and masturbated. She glanced down at his hands and thought - if she brought his strong, elegant fingers to her tongue, would she be able to tell?

She whimpered at the idea and Mulder's brows knitted. 'You okay Scully?'

Still staring at his right hand, she slowly shook her head. She wasn't okay. Nowhere near it. Her mouth was dry and her sex was wet. She felt blood throbbing in her ears and once again her knees weakened, so that she had to rock to keep her balance. Mulder put a steadying hand on her forearm and she pulled away slightly so that his hand was in hers. Without further conscious thought, Scully brought it to her lips and ran the tip of her tongue up his palm.

He flushed and shuddered and she felt a similar thrill pass through her as she tasted the bitter salt that made her right. A picture of him flashed in her mind: legs braced, head thrown back, grunting in release as he thrust into his hand - this hand that she held now in her own - white sperm jerking out of him and across his desk.

'Mulder.' Her voice was guttural with desire and, although he'd never heard her that way, he recognized it instinctively and in an instant his lips were on hers, his hand on her breast, his rapidly hardening cock pressed into her hip. She moaned into his mouth and his head dropped to her right nipple, biting her through her neat white blouse, pushing her backwards with his lips and teeth until her shoulders and head hit the filing cabinets. 

It all happened so fast. Scully couldn't speak; could barely breathe. Everything was hands and lips and push and shove and heat and heat and more heat. 

He dropped to his knees, tugging her blouse out of her skirt, popping buttons, pushing his hands around her silky waist, grasping her to him as his tongue ran circles around her navel. She clutched his head to her, her hips undulating shamelessly, and felt his hands leave her momentarily - then come back, much rougher, shoving her skirt up, brushing her thighs briefly, pulling away from her grasp just long enough to drop his head lower, pushing his hands and his face up between her legs to where she was burning like fire, his fingers twisting in her panties, jerking them down as her hips angled forward - desperate for more contact, more Mulder, more everything.

'Yes! Yes!' She pressed his head into herself.

The first touch of his tongue was perfect - perfectly placed, perfectly timed, perfectly rough and eager - and she uncoiled instantly like a spring released from high tension. Her fingers yanked at his hair, her hips jerked convulsively, fucking his seeking lips and hard tongue as he gripped her ass to maintain contact through her breathless, sobbing climax.

His tongue still worked her, but gently now, as her orgasm tailed deliciously away. Her breathing steadied and she released his hair from her fists and instead touched him there soothingly, letting him know he'd done well and that she was grateful.

'Mulder,' she murmured, and he made a low, answering tone that vibrated gently against her sensitized clit and made her gasp, and then laugh at herself. At them. At this. She grinned down at him and he looked up at her, his full lips shining with her essence, his eyes liquid with emotion. 

'Scully. I love you.'

Her laugh died in her throat and she had to catch her suddenly-trembling lip between her teeth. She couldn't speak; she only nodded. He rose, so close to her that she was reminded that his own need was still to be satisfied. But he ignored that and kissed her, making her taste herself, and him underneath that.

The lassitude that followed her orgasm was dissipating in the face of his tender new advance. She had been satisfied in one amazing way but now ached for another kind of fulfillment - ached for him, for his hot length inside her, to be stretched and stroked and taken hard. The thought made her nipples stiffen under his fingers and he grunted as he felt her respond. She slid a hand down to feel him, and, as she touched him there for only the second time, she blushed - even though his tongue had just been on her and inside her. This was Mulder. Mulder's cock under her nervous hand. This was real - no fantasy, no dream, no idle wondering about how it might be, if ever, perhaps, maybe. 

Mulder was right here, right now - and he was hard. Hard for her. And she wanted him like she'd never wanted anything in her life before. 

She squeezed him through his suit and was rewarded with a groan and a slow thrust of his hips. It made her gasp to feel the ridge between his glans and his thick shaft, even through the cloth. He felt big and very hard. Very excited. She tugged shakily at his belt and his zipper, and then at his erection, trying to free it from his boxers, his hands joining hers, yanking desperately at his own clothing to release his cock. She ducked her head and pushed his hips away so she could look at him. She had to see. 

His cock was as beautiful as the rest of him - long, elegant, smoothly muscular and ready for action. Pre-cum slid from his slit and coated his shaft. Her sex clenched at the sight of it, knowing it was readying him for his slippery journey into her.

His fist was around the base, steadying himself, but his eyes spoke to her of his desperation and also of his fear that - even now - she may withdraw permission from him, wrap herself in her cool shell of regret and recrimination, and leave him without completion.

Still unsure of how to express the way she felt, Scully showed him instead by stepping out of her panties and opening her legs for him. With her skirt still around her hips, she leaned her shoulders against the cabinets and pushed her hips towards him to show off her swollen lips and her slick thighs, like a whore displaying her wares on a street corner. She didn't care. All she cared about was having him inside her. Now.

Mulder's breathing was fast and shallow, his eyes fixed on her sex. He stepped forward, pointing his cock at it as if he'd only just worked out that the two things might fit together. He closed; his hip nudged hers as he looked down between them to guide himself to her entrance. She watched his silky, hot head part her folds and made a whine of anticipation against his throat. She drew her head back to look at his face and found him looking into her eyes with something like confused disbelief that this was actually about to happen. 

'Put your cock in me Mulder.'

'Uhhh!' His eyes squeezed shut at her words and he pushed himself inside her. 

She grunted at the shocking feeling of him sheathing himself in her. He drew back a little and slid in again, further this time, and once more, still harder, stretching her like a fist, lifting her to her toes and making her grip his biceps. 

It had been so long for her. The feel of a man inside her was intoxicating; the fact that it was him drove her over the edge of control.

'Mulder! Oh god Mulder fuck me, fuck me hard, fuck me hard!'

Any restraint he'd striven for dissolved in that instant. He started to buck helplessly into her, his ferocity lifting her again and again until she gave up trying to stay on the ground and just wrapped her legs around his hips, his hands under her ass, his mouth sucking and nipping frantically at her lips, neck and breasts, his breath hot and desperate on her skin, his gasping words unintelligible but for her name and God's repeated again and again and again as he started to come like something wild being finally unleashed inside her, his cock filling her with hot pulses as he cried out in an agony of pleasure. 

They came back to the here and now slowly, their blood slowing in their ears, their breathing downgraded from panting to merely hard, sweat cooling on their exposed skin. She was still pulsing around him, he was still making little thrusts in response; every time she pulsed and every time he thrust, they made small animal sounds of completion and pleasure. Her breasts were mashed against his chest, his cheek against hers, now and then she would turn to lick the sweat from his throat, or he would nip at her shoulder and neck, hard enough to make her flinch - then flick his tongue over it in gentle apology.

He was hard inside her for a long time. Was still half-hard when he lowered her gently to the floor and withdrew from her. She stared at him; stared at his cock. She could hardly believe what had happened to them. How fast things had changed here in their basement office where usually they were so formal. To further confuse the issue, they were both still half dressed in their work clothes - he'd torn off his pants and boxers but his shirt still hung on his shoulders, although ripped open where she'd sought emergency access to his smooth golden skin; her blouse was nowhere to be seen, but her bra was still pretty much on, although one pale, pink-tipped breast spilled wantonly over the lace from where Mulder had tugged it with his mouth alone. Her skirt was still hitched up like a five-dollar whore's and she caught sight of her panties draped over the lens of Mulder's precious slide projector. 

Now that the fireworks were over, it was all a little embarrassing. 

She wondered what their first words would be. She felt her throat tighten at the thought that they might be awkward together now. Everything she held dear about them might be about to change.

Mulder stepped across the room to retrieve her panties, dangling them at her from two fingers with a stern look.

'Scully, if this was all a ruse to sabotage my slide projector, I'm going to be very disappointed.'

She bit back her smile, then looked at him brazenly: 'Give me my panties, Mulder.'

He groaned and she saw his cock twitch. The erection that had never quite gone away now started to grow again. Rejoicing inwardly that they'd almost instantly discovered the way they were going to be together, Scully lowered her voice until it was a sultry drawl, flicked at her exposed nipple and fixed him with her most piercing stare.

'Mulder. I need my panties. I'm half naked.' She licked her lips, 'and someone could walk in at any minute.'

Mulder's cock jerked to full attention at that idea and Scully couldn't help grinning broadly at him. The pervert! Still, just saying the words had given her a thrill, so she guessed that made her a pervert too.

Instead of giving her her panties, Mulder started to stroke them gently up and down his shaft. She went liquid at the sight.

'Get on the desk Scully.'

'Why Mulder?'

'I've done it fast, now I want to do it right.'

'It felt pretty right to me the first time Mulder.'

'I can do better.'

'Really?' she couldn't keep the note of genuine surprise out of her voice. Or the edge of arousal. Mulder thought he could do better than THAT? The idea made her flush. 

'Trust me,' he said, advancing on her.

'You told me, trust no one.'

'No one but me,' he said softly, so close now that she took a small step back, feeling suddenly a little threatened by his unexpected dominance.

She felt his desk against her ass and pushed his chair aside. She felt like a slut, but her nipples were buzzing with tension and she felt her juices slip past her lips and down her thighs.

Her voice was a hoarse whisper of need: 'Face down?'

Mulder jerked into her panties at the thought, but shook his head. 'No,' he said. Then he smiled. 'Another time.'

She sat on the edge of the desk. He stood in front of her and pulled off his shirt so he was completely naked - a spectacular new feature in their ugly little office - then he gently prised her knees apart, stepped between them, and kissed her down onto the desk - his lips moving urgently now from her mouth, down her throat and to her nipples once more.

She was at the perfect height. All it took was him him rounding his back to line himself up, and she was so wet for him that he slipped easily inside. 

'Oh god,' he moaned. He hooked his elbows under her knees, drew her legs up, and started to thrust gently and rhythmically into her. Scully allowed herself to relax, to give him control, to enjoy the sensation of his big cock sliding in and out of her without any further expectation. She'd come twice within the past half hour. Once a week was her average. As far as she was concerned if Mulder never gave her another orgasm, she could die a happy woman. She let her head drop back, her eyes shut, and felt as if she were floating, impaled on a huge, wonderful velvet spike. She gasped as Mulder's fingers started to pinch and roll her nipples. Her back arched in response and his cock bumped something inside her that made her eyes fly open. 

'Is that it?' he asked gently.

'Oh god Mulder, that's it!'

He adjusted her hips with his hands, allowing his mouth to work her nipples now, and she felt him grind into her G-spot in a sensual, rising tempo that made her start to pant and tense up.

'Just relax Scully. It'll come. Just wait for it.'

She tried to, she really did. But she'd never come during intercourse before and didn't want to miss it, so felt her body seeking the friction, wanting the end, courting the climax so that it came sooner than either had expected.

'Oh god Mulder. Oh god. Oh god oh god I'm coming Oh god I'm coming I'm coming!' 

She screamed silently, her body arching like a bow, her limbs stiff, her nails digging into his shoulders so hard they drew blood, her eyes boiling over with tears of joy. She felt it all, and then felt nothing as everything faded away, and she skirted unconsciousness. When she came back, she was bent almost double and Mulder was on the desk over her, on his knees, teeth clenched, pounding out his last brutal strokes before he, too, burst within her with a raw, primal cry of animal mating.

Once again he stayed in her, stayed joined as they kissed and petted. 

Finally he withdrew and helped her off the desk. No clever remarks this time - he took her in his arms and kissed her chastely on the lips. She looked into his eyes and told him she loved him too. In a haze, they gathered what was left of their clothes and mix-and-matched with spares they had in the office until they looked halfway decent. They were silent, but a dozen times as they dressed, he touched her. Her face, her lips, her breasts, her leg. For six years he had kept his hands to himself; now he could not keep them off her. She loved it. If she hadn't been so sore from the two hard fucks after years of abstinence, she would have insisted on having him again right there, right then. 

And he'd have been ready for her. Scully's hands were no less busy. As Mulder bent to pull up his boxers, she ran a hand over his firm buttocks. When he put on his spare blue shirt, she took her temporary leave of his nipples with her lips; when he got his dress pants pulled up, Scully took a long while to slide the zipper up over what was once more a respectable erection. He had obviously been a long time without sex, and she looked forward to this kind of eagerness for a good while yet.

'I can't believe we've done it Scully.'

'I can't believe we've never done it before Mulder.'

'Can we do it again sometime?' he grinned.

'Goodness no Mulder! That'll last me a lifetime.'

He pinched her ass, making her squeal and slap his hand.

'Don't tease me Scully.'

'Tease you Mulder?' She gave a very small smile. 'Never.'

END