8My friend jodie-fosters-foster-child told me I should do the prompt "AU where Mulder is a sex therapist helping Scully out using toys on her or more (writer's choice)" for the xfpornbattle's December/January Porn Battle and, in honor of Sex Education coming out in a few days, I couldn't resist myself. I kinda diverged from the original prompt (it's not an AU, and he used to be a Sex Therapist), but I hope it still works.
"You're lying," she balked at him, invigorated by the prospect of learning something new about the man she knew better than herself.
The new information was accompanied by a new facial expression; she couldn't remember ever seeing Mulder look half as shy as he did right now. Shifting his weight on the couch, he let out a wavering, breathy laugh as he sighed, "I wish I was."
He'd come over to her apartment for their weekly movie night, becoming weekly after that night all those months ago when he took her to the batting cages and they couldn't bring themselves to end their date. They didn't call it that of course, merely wishing to spend a little more time together. It resulted in her hanging out at his place while they watched whatever D-List movie was playing on TV. Now it was second nature for one of them to haphazardly clean their apartment while the other got food after work on Friday. The only thing that changed from week to week was whose apartment it was at and what movie they watched. Everything else stayed the exact same; the packs of beers, a box of his and hers pizza, her hawaiian, his meat lovers, the same ol' couches, the same rampant sexual tension they never seemed to fucking act on.
Maybe they sat closer than they would have a few years ago and maybe their hugs lasted a bit longer than what most would deem appropriate, but neither of them had made a move. Part of her was curious if this new bit of revealed information was some attempt to drunkenly flirt, test what her reaction would be, but based on the discoloration in his cheeks right now, it might have just been a tipsy slip of the tongue.
A slip she was not about to let slide.
Commercial breaks seemed to be far more important to them on these nights than the actual movies were. As soon as the screen faded from a film to an advertisement, one of them was inevitably already speaking, desperately wanting to capitalize on a moment where the only thing they could do was make small talk for an intermittent three to five minutes. It was a small intimacy, but one they both cherished.
However, this time as Die Hard faded out, her words got caught in her throat as she was distracted by the first commercial. A blonde british woman advertising her at home therapy. Sex therapy. As she proclaimed all the various sexual disorders she could help solve in graphic detail, Mulder chuckled lightly to himself.
"What's so funny?" she prompted, nudging his knee with her own.
"Oh, it's nothing. This just brings up some old memories." He must've read the implications of his words in the expression on her face because he quickly added. "No, no I didn't go to one. I was one."
Scully'd initially thought he was joking and she couldn't believe he was insisting he was serious. Now she was just sitting there watching Mulder try to change the subject. "No, no. I've read your file. I've seen your CV. Sex Therapist was never listed. I would have definitely remembered something like that."
"I did it when I was studying at Oxford to make extra money. It was an underground operation just to help some underclassmen with their problems or insecurities. I went under an alias so no one would know I wasn't licensed." He grabbed another beer out of their shared cartridge and she was internally encouraging him to drink more if it loosened up his tongue this much.
She didn't care that Bruce Willis had returned to the screen, she had her own mission to deal with. "What was your alias?"
"Jean," he admitted, "Spelled j-e-a-n, not j-o-h-n. I thought it would make me seem classy," he laughed.
"How long?" she asked, completely turning her body on the couch to face him, pleased when he did the same. They rarely talked in depths about themselves, especially not about something so revealing.
"Basically three quarters of my time there, I'd say. The latter three quarters." He clearly was taken by surprise at her complete and utter interest on the subject and was answering honestly to keep her undivided attention.
"What made you want to do that of all things?" She punctuated her question by finishing off her own beer and grabbing another.
"Oh, um," he bashfully started, playing with the rim of his beer bottle. Then he murmured something and she had to interrupt him.
"I didn't catch that last part. What'd you say?"
He bit his lip in that way she oh-so loved before continuing, as if debating saying the words at full volume. "I was told I'd be good at it."
"By wh-oh," she exclaimed realizing what he was implying.
"It was college," he shrugged, laughing off the fact he just told her he apparently excelled enough in bed to be asked advice. Excelled enough to get paid for said advice.
"I'm learning so much about you," she beamed, the liquor having loosened her inhibitions enough to flirt a little. "Were you good?"
"Well everyone I was with left satisfied. A few times over," he smiled in humble honesty.
She felt a gush of arousal seep onto her panties at this admission. Fox Mulder, giver of multiple orgasms. Good to know, though not what she had meant. "Good to know," she actually voice in a tone she didn't mean to be so husky. "But I meant were you good as a sex therapist?"
"Oh!" he proclaimed, an embarrassed laugh breaking apart his sentence. She could see the back of his neck being stained crimson from here. "Um, I guess. A lot of my clients told me I was a big help. It was really just me combining classroom experience with knowledge of, um, my own experience. But, I don't know, I'm not sure if I was really even giving the best advice."
"Let me be the judge." The words left her mouth before she even had a full chance to register what she even meant by them.
"What?" he squeaked, eyes widening.
With an uncharacteristic giggle, she adjusted herself so that her shoulders and neck were supported by the arm of the couch and her calves laid across his lap, laying in the perfect therapy pose. She laced her fingers across her abdomen and watched in amusement as he tried unsuccessfully to be subtle as his eyes appreciated her body. "Give me some therapy," she demanded.
"You want me to give you sex therapy?" he asked incredulously, amusement dancing in his expression.
"Yep," the beer answered.
"You're sure?" It was cute how nervous he was right now and it just added to her confidence.
"Come on Dr. Mulder," she all but purred, "Why not?"
He cleared his throat and reached over to her end table to pick up her reading glasses, putting them on for dramatic effect. "Okay, Ms. Scully. What brings you here today?" His baritone somehow seemed deeper than normal, resonating in her bones and she had to repress a shudder.
"Hmm," she pondered. She hadn't actually thought that far ahead. I'm here today because I'm so sexually frustrated because of my partner that he's all I can think of when I masturbate. That I come home every day soaking wet and desperate from being so close to him that I rip off my clothes and jack off. The right answer seemed a little too on the head. "I'm not sure. I guess just to hear your expertise on the subject," she shrugged coyly.
"Have you seen a Sex Therapist before?" he asked, lightly placing a hand on one nylon-clad calf. She shook her head against the fabric of the couch and watched him intently. "That's perfectly fine. We can start with some foundational questions."
"Okay."
His voice returned to it's prior shy state when he asked his next question, "And you want this session to be exactly how I would normally treat a session?"
"I want the full Jean experience," she confidently stated, smiling at him in encouragement.
"Okay," he drug out in a tone that implied she didn't know what she had in store for her.
She didn't
"Describe your first orgasm, in as much detail as you can." His smile widened at the same rate as her eyes. Clearly, he assumed she wasn't going to answer, but she was more than a few beers in and most of the blood in her body was in one area leading her decisions right now.
"I believe my first ever orgasm happened when I was twelve." She saw Mulder's eyebrows shoot up in surprise and she tried to conceal her pride in surprising him but continuing. "I don't fully remember the events leading up to it. It was a wet dream. I just woke up in the middle of, what I thought was, a really intense shudder and a weird, sticky feeling on my crotch." She started giggling at the memory and she shifted a little on the couch, "I-I also had my favorite teddy bear squeezed in between my thighs with a near-vice grip as I grinded his face into the pillow."
He laughed out loud along with her before asking, "Do you remember what you were dreaming about?"
"Oh god if I know. I don't even think I thought about boys back then. I truly have no idea."
He nodded in deep concentration and she presumed if they were in Oxford in 1984 he would have been taking diligent notes on her little teddy bear rendevouz. "When was the first time you brought yourself to orgasm?"
She let out a little laugh and, regardless of the fact she was a little tipsy, she couldn't believe she was actually divulging this in front of Mulder. Part of her thought she should stop to spare herself embarrassment in the morning, but there was something about the intensity of his eyes, the absolute curiosity about her answers, that made her keep going.
"Well, even though I didn't necessarily know that it was on orgasm I was having at that time, I knew it felt fucking fantastic, and I was desperate to have it happen again. For months after that, god this is so embarrassing," she laughed, covering her face with her hands. She felt a hand touch her elbow and she spread her fingers on her face to look at him.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want, but know I won't tease you for anything you say." Then, holding up that same arm in a mock boy-scout salute, added, "Doctor-Patient confidentiality."
She smiled at him and put her hands back on her ribs. "Well, for months after, when I was positive Missy was asleep I would try to recreate it. I would take that poor little bear and just squeeze my thighs together around his neck hoping it would do something."
"Did it?" he asked, trying to hold back laughter.
"No!" she explained through a chuckle. "So eventually, I walked myself to the library and went to the Human Anatomy section."
"Of course you did."
She rolled her eyes at him and nudged him in the stomach with her free foot. "And I eventually found some human sexuailty books. The female sections weren't very detailed, it was the seventies,-"
"Probably couldn't see anything through all the hair," he joked.
She snorted and continued through a laugh, "Anyway, I learned enough. Where the clit was, what it should do, the vaginal passage, you know all the good stuff." He nodded in affirmation of the good stuff and she resisted rolling her eyes again. "So I went home, took a hand mirror and looked at myself. I tried to put a finger inside but it hurt, so I just focused on the clit. For the first few minutes I didn't think it was doing anything, but then I felt something in my gut. Like I was running up a hill and I didn't know what would be at the top, but I just had to know. Soon the mirror was forgotten and I was giving myself tennis arm on my bedroom floor."
"Then what?" he asked, his eyes not having moved from her during her entire description.
He started smiling when he saw the look on her face, knowing something embarrassing was about to be revealed. "Well," she started, trying to ignore the way her face was undoubtedly flushing at the embarrassing memory. "I came. Hard. It was like every cell in by body had bloomed and was tingling in pleasure. It felt so incredible, and it was so sudden, that I screamed 'oh my god' at the top of my lungs."
"Don't tell me-"
"Yep, my entire family was home. I heard someone running down the hall so I put my shorts on as quickly as I possibly could. Then Missy barged in and I told her I saw a spider."
"Did she believe you?" he asked, fully engrossed in the story.
"Not even a little. I was flushed and sweaty, my legs were trembling, and my underwear was still lying on the floor. She told me not to do that when mom and dad were home before walking out and yelling that there was a huge spider in the room, but she took care of it."
"Did you stop masturbating after that?" He'd resumed his professional voice and somehow it made the confession less embarrassing.
"Of course not!" she exclaimed. He smiled and nodded appreciatively, taking more mental notes.
"When was the first time you achieved orgasm by someone else?" he asked.
Now she was reminded of why she didn't like therapy. They always seemed to discover what she'd been trying to hide. She'd come from thinking about other people, him, but in all honesty, no one else had made her come. She'd gotten off touching herself during sex, but the other participants really didn't really contribute. It was always her expertise and imagination that pushed her over the edge. "Um, like-"
"The first time someone else made you cum, could be by hand, mouth, dry humping-" he offered, noticing her struggle. She wondered if he'd be able to tell if she lied. Probably. She didn't have a chance to come up with something because he'd already figured her out. "No one else has made you come?" His professional voice couldn't mask his absolute shock.
"N-no."
"Were they not stimulating you?" he asked. He almost sounded like he wanted to enact revenge on her former lovers on behalf for her lack of pleasure.
"Well, they would try, but it just never worked. Usually I'd feel so bad for them that I'd fake it."
"Couldn't they tell?" he asked with the cute naivete of someone who's never slept with a man.
He was staring straight at her and, in another move that simply had to be fueled from the beers she downed, she pulled a Meg Ryan. Rolling her eyes to the back of her head she gasped loudly and arched her back. "Oh, fuck," she cried in a high breathy voice as she let her body tremble against him. Then as if she never did she fell back and deadpanned, "It's not that hard."
But he was. That much she could feel against the side of her calf. She wasn't about to look and confirm her suspicions though because that would mean missing out on the way his eyes were devouring her like she was sex personified. When she had fallen back he gasped lightly and licked his lips shifting his his upwards ever so slightly as if possessed.
"They never knew any different," she shrugged, shoulders heavy against the tension in the room.
"I could tell," he stated confidently.
"Oh really? How?" she prompted, curious as to where his conviction came from.
"From the very little I know about your sexual history, I think there would be more hip gyration, more focus on your clit." She didn't need to check to know she was soaking wet. Her arousal had probably started to seep onto her nylons and inner thighs, and she was suddenly second guessing her position, hoping Mulder couldn't smell her in the air.
"Besides, this is just speculation, but I've always imagined that during sex your voice would deepen. I don't think I've ever imagined a pitch so high."
"Imagined?" she repeated so softly it was almost a whisper. Was Mulder sitting here, hard on her sofa, confessing that he'd imagined her coming? Making her come?
"Hypothesized," he clarified as if that was any different. Before she had a chance to call him out on that, he continued "Are you comfortable with your body?"
Her brows furrowed at that, not quite sure where he was going. "More or less."
"More or less?" he repeated, looking confused.
"I mean, I guess," she shrugged.
"You guess?"
"Are you just going to parrot my answers back to me?" she laughed. She could be as self-assured as she wanted, but she had the same insecurities as any woman. Are my thighs too big? Are my boobs too small? Is my skin clear enough? Does this outfit flatter my body? She most certainly didn't hate her body, on a certain level she could find herself attractive, but she didn't know if she could consider herself hot or anything.
"Are you insecure?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
"I don't see how this pertains to my sex life?" She tried deflecting.
"If you aren't comfortable in your body, it might be distracting you during intimacy and preventing you from achieving orgasm. You might be too concerned what others think." She had to admit, interesting theory. No wonder people paid him for advice, that was pretty good. However she didn't really think that was the case. She wasn't really concerned about how her body looked during sex, she was more concerned about how her partners looked during sex, specifically within the past few years. Her lovers had an uncanny way of not being Fox Mulder and she found it distracting.
"I don't think that's it. I think I definitely don't think I'm ugly or repulsive. I'm not really concerned about how I look during sex."
He laughed and for a second she was offended until he incredulously stated. "Not ugly or repulsive? That's the best you can do?" She shrugged and the hand on her calf moved to her knee as he leaned forward slightly. "Scully, you are absolutely stunning, and I don't have to guess about that. If I had your body I'd walk around naked all the time," he joked though he was serious.
She averted her eyes as she bit back a smile. "That's sweet," she murmured appreciatively.
Easing back he stated, "But that's just my expert opinion." He cleared his throat and adjusted his sitting position slightly and she pretended like she didn't feel his erection rub against her. The only sign she did being the way her eyelids fluttered shut. When she opened them he was staring at her with a smirk, but she couldn't summon the will to be embarrassed.
"Do you currently consider yourself sexually satisfied?" he asked, not fully hiding the way his eyes flickered down her body.
"I take care of myself," she answered honestly. Satisfied was a qualifiable term and she didn't know what scale they were using. Did she come regularly? Yeah. The way she dreamed of? No.
"How often?"
She swallowed, as if it could take away any hesitance, before answering, "Daily."
"Are you sexually where you want to be right now?"
"Isn't that just another way of asking if I'm satisfied?"
"Let me rephrase. When you masturbate-" She still couldn't fully believe she was having an in-depth conversation about her sex life with Mulder. She didn't know if the shock would ever wear off. "-are you content, or are you fantasizing about getting off in a different way."
Rolling her eyes, she lamented, "Mulder. I have a vibrator under this very couch as we speak. I don't think that really screams 'content'. But who doesn't fantasize about something more? I achieve orgasm everyday though, so how much can I complain?"
His eyes lit up with this knowledge and a little hum resonated in the back of his throat. A sound of pleasure that she admitted she'd pleasured herself on the very place they sat. "So," she prompted, "What's your prognosis?"
"In my professional opinion?" he asked, earning a nod. "I think that you hold on tightly to control. Both in your professional and personal lives, you prefer to have a sense of control or at least knowledge about what happens. I think this translates into your sex life. It's easy for you to make yourself come, but harder to let other people because you don't like giving such a vulnerable part of yourself to someone else."
"Hmm," she pondered thoughtfully. Part of her felt exposed by his honest evaluation, but she couldn't dismiss it. She was nothing if not self-aware enough to recognize he was right. "What would you recommend?"
"Let go. Let someone else control you, sexually." The thought scared her a little bit, she'd been controlled enough in the past against her will to be wary. Pfaster, Duane Barry, her abduction, the list went on and on. The thought of letting someone else do what they wished with her was intimidating.
"So, I should just find someone that will do what they will, and I'll come if I don't try to regain control?"
He shook his head almost immediately and leaned infinitesimally closer to her. "I don't mean find some random guy. No. To accurately help you, I think you should be with someone you trust. Someone you know will respect your boundaries. It isn't about letting them do whatever they want to you, it's allowing them to take full responsibility for bringing you pleasure." She wasn't even sure he was conscious of the way his thumb was idly stroking her leg through her nylons right now.
"That sounds nice," she whispered, her voice quivering slightly.
"Do you have someone you trust enough?" She heard it in his voice. That strong combination of lust, hope, and fear. Putting himself out there and hoping she'd notice, but fearing she might possibly have some other man she trusted with her life stored away that he didn't know about.
"I do," she nodded. "I trust him more than anyone."
"Do you think you'll ask him?" he asked, moving his hand to rest above her knee, his pinky finger just barely slipping under the hem of her skirt.
"He's in the middle of a session right now," she teased lightly, deciding to be bold as she bent her knee so she could rub her stockinged foot against the bulge in the front of his pants. His hips involuntarily jumped as he thrust against her. "Would it be against the rules to ask my therapist?"
"Never," he proclaimed like a prayer. Before the last syllable even left his mouth, he'd moved himself in between her legs, grabbing her hip and neck as he pulled her flush against him in a searing kiss.
She couldn't help the guttural moan that ripped from her throat as she felt him draped over her. His erection was pressed to her lower belly like hot steel. She raised her knees so her legs were bent, inviting him closer and not caring how her skirt rode up her thighs to rest on her hips. She undulated her arousal against him causing him to moan, "Fuck, Scully," into her mouth, and she ate up every word greedily.
He pumped his hips into her gently, a rhythm matching a gentle nudge, but it was painfully erotic. Suddenly he shifted his weight onto his haunches and reached up her skirt, feeling around until he found the waistband of her nylons. He wasted no time slipping them down her legs, making sure to touch every inch of skin revealed. As he did this, she was eager to help, and she quickly untucked her cotton shirt and ripped it over her head, discarding it gracelessly against the ground. Before it even reached the ground, Mulder was groaning, "Oh my god."
Always a man for reciprocity, he took off his own shirt and threw it on top of hers, making a little pile. She didn't know what he was doing when he leaned over the side of the couch, easing his forearms on the wooden floor as he reached for something. She hadn't remembered him dropping anything, but then his intentions became clear when he resurfaced with her pink, oval shaped vibrator. She shot him a question in her stare and he was quick to reassure her, "I want to make you come with something you're familiar with first."
First. Implying the first of a series. A series of orgasms about to be brought upon her body by Mulder. Mulder. She gave him a toothy smile and he covered it with a kiss. She was a little too preoccupied with his body finally touching hers to enjoy the initial kiss, but now it was all her mind could focus on. She could taste the stale beer and pizza on his tongue that she was sure he could taste on hers. God, she'd imagined that pouty bottom lip could do wonders, but actually feeling the way it puckered, sucked, and nibbled on her lips was mind-blowing. His tongue slid against hers and it only added to the surrealism of all this.
They had to break away to gasp for breath and they took a moment just panting, looking into each other's eyes. "You sure you're okay with this?"
"More than you could ever know," she whispered, rubbing her leg against his straining erection. He moaned and lowered his head into the crook of her neck for a moment as he indulged himself, grinding himself into her.
Then, as if possessed, he leaned back again, this time hooking two fingers under her underwear, dragging the saturated scrap of fabric down her legs. "You are so beautiful," he praised, licking his lips while staring straight down at her exposed sex. She let out a little laugh as she watched him turn on her vibrator, the buzzing sound filling the room with noise that perfectly mirrored what she was feeling inside her body right now.
Instead of placing the toy on her immediately, he put it on her sternum, dragging it painfully slow down her skin, breaking off to rub it against her nipples, playing with them until they were hardened peaks straining against the cups of her bra. Then he descended lower, going in between her ribs, over her belly button, sliding over the bunched fabric around her waist, tickling the hairs of her pubic mound before oh god.
He placed a strong hand on her abdomen to prevent her from arching off the couch, which was her first instinct as soon as the silicone touched her clit. "Ugh, fuck," she growled, undulating her hips against him.
"What do you usually fantasize about when you do this to yourself?" he asked, his eyes so focused on her she was pretty sure the entire apartment could burn down around them and he wouldn't be able to look away.
He alternated between pushing the tip of the toy directly against her and dragging the flat edge back and forth over her. "You," she moaned as she raised one leg over the back of the couch. Mulder did her one better and grabbed the ankle, bringing it up to rest against his bare chest as he placed an open mouth kiss against the bone of her ankle. "What a coincidence. You're always at the forefront of my masturbatory fantasies."
She could feel a tight coiling in her gut and she was amazed he was able to do this to her in what felt like a matter of seconds, though seven years of foreplay was probably more than enough to her her to this state. "W-what am I usually doing?" she asked, still curious through her lust-riddled brain.
"This," he stated, pushing the vibrator down on her by thrusting his hips against it.
She couldn't believe how he'd timed that, nor the amount of self-assured confidence he had with that statement. As soon as the word left his mouth and his hips moved, she was sent into a body quaking orgasm. "Mulder!" she moaned, deep in her throat, her hips lurching upwards to meet him. The vibrations must've felt good for him too because she saw him bite his lip as he struggled to keep his eyes open, obviously wanting to enjoy the sight of her in the throes of a passion caused by him.
Her hands were grasping the couch with a deadly grip and she wouldn't be surprised if she left permanent marks. She ground her hips against his soaking wet hand, desperate to draw this out. Eventually, she became over sensitized and she grabbed his wrist lightly, grateful when he pulled the toy away, turning it off and setting it on the coffee table before returning to her. He placed kisses to her still humming body, and she could feel his pride through the upward curve of his lips on her skin. "I guessed right."
"About what?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.
"I accurately depicted the sound of your orgasm voice in my fantasies," he beamed. "Low." Kiss. "Husky." Kiss. "Smooth as honey." Kiss. "And insatiably arousing." She laughed breathly as she reached in between them and tugged at his belt.
"Wanna hear it again?" she teased in her most seductive voice.
Mulder actually moaned in response and quickly stood up, whipping his belt off as he disrobed the rest of the way. She followed suit, unfastening her bra and easing her skirt down her hips, laying bare on the couch admiring his impressive physique. "You're stunning too Mulder, do you know that."
Her comment seemed to hit past his lust riddled mind and he let out an adorably bashful laugh, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck where he was most certainly turning red again. "Oh, uh-thanks." For once the man she placed all her faith in stood in front of her with uncharacteristic uncertainty.
She opened her arms out to him. "Come 'ere."
He fell onto her gently and they both gasped as bare skin touched bare skin. Not wanting to get distracted from her mission, she kissed the tip of his nose before looking deep into his eyes. "I'm serious, Mulder. You're so attractive it drives me crazy. So crazy that I come home from work everyday aroused beyond belief and masturbate to the thought of you."
She must've gotten to him because he was fully smiling now, a toothy grin that she cherished. "You really know how to make a guy feel good, Scully."
She raised her hips so her wet arousal grazed against his swollen head and he grunted, resisting the urge to buck into her. "You have no idea, yet," she teased, rotating her hips to grind against him.
He laughed at her lame joke, but the traces of laughter on his face were replaced with ecstasy as he pushed into her. Inch by inch she couldn't believe how good he felt. Every centimeter deeper he went gave her new sensations and he seemed endless. Eventually, he was buried hilt deep and she could feel his balls pressing against the flesh of her ass. They stayed like that for a moment as she got used to being this filled.
He placed slow, languid kisses to her neck and she couldn't remember if she'd ever had such a thoughtful lover in her entire life. She was sure she didn't, none of her other lovers had been Fox Mulder. "I'm ready," she panted into the still air, and he complied immediately.
She moaned softly as she felt him ease out a few inches before plunging back in. His thrusts seemed exploratory, like he was trying to find what she responded to most. He didn't have to search for long, because one particularly good upward stroke had her gasping his name and clutching at his shoulders.
"You like that?" he asked, hitting the same spot again and getting an affirmative moan. He reached down and lifted her thighs higher on his own, allowing him to slip deeper into her. She hoped he didn't mind the crescent adornments she was leaving on his back, but figured he wouldn't since he was leaving matching ones on her hips. His thrusts started to pick up the pace and their breathing started to fill the room along with the sounds of their arousals meeting. A cacophony of sex.
She felt herself running up that familiar hill, pleasure building on pleasure, and it was burning white hot in her groin. "M-muhl-der, I-I'm so clos-se," she whimpered, writhing underneath him.
He let go of one side of her hip and brought it up to his mouth, licking the pads of his fingers before bringing it down to the apex of her thighs, swirling the saliva-coated digits around her swollen bud. She gasped and bit her lip, concentrating on the sensations brewing inside her.
"It's okay, Scully. Lose yourself. Come. It's just me and you." Her and him, she thought to herself. Mulder and Scully.
She came again, the intensity surpassing the last one and making her cry out Mulder's name, maybe God's, she didn't know the difference right now. Her body felt like it did the very first time, every cell blooming in pleasure, her whole body tingling with the waves of her orgasm. Mulder made her feel this way.
He threw his head back and his grip on her hip tightened as he came inside her, not relenting in her thrust in his final act of altruism to give her an unbelievable sexual experience. He'd already succeeded in that by just being here.
Slowly he adjusted her quivering body so he was laying next to her with his arms protectively wrapped around her, placing kisses to her sweaty forehead as she came down from her high. "You amaze me, Mulder," she praised through her sated sleepiness.
"As you amaze me," he returned, squeezing her tighter against him.
She raised her hands up and slid one around his waist and brought the other up to rest on his chest, feeling his thrumming heartbeat under her palm. "I'd like to have a few more sessions with you if you don't mind," she joked, using his arm as a pillow as she rested her eyes.
He placed a kiss to her forehead before laughing, "Anytime. Seriously."
