Title: In Coming 
  Author: Jori Remington
  Rating: NC-17 most definitely
  Spoilers: None that I can think of
  Summary: Scully takes control of Mulder in an new way for them


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  I am so aware of her standing there, next to me. It is driving me crazy. All I 
  was doing was standing on a chair upgrading my overhead light fixture after 
  the last people who tried to bug my place ruined the old one completely. She 
  didn't have to stand there so close just to 'spot' me. How was she going to 
  catch me if I fell anyway? 


  The conversation started out so harmless. After I made a crack about how many 
  FBI agents it takes to change a light bulb, our chatting really did have 
  something to do with the case we were working on. The Peruvian consulate had 
  called us in after some mysterious happenings at the Ancient Art of the Andes 
  exhibit at the National Museum of Art. Then our conversation began to take a 
  turn to 'Moche' primitive erotic art and how any examples displaying sex 
  rarely showed the one act that would lead to procreation. It showed everything 
  else but that. I don't even know how we got to this topic except we had seen 
  several samples of it today when we went to visit Dr. Perez at the museum. 
  Then, half a minute ago, Scully said the word 'fellatio.' Not blow job or 
  giving head. No, Scully wouldn't say those, but she used the word fellatio. 
  Ever the proper little doctor. 


  Doesn't she know you should never say the word fellatio or playing the skin 
  flute or any other reference to oral sex when your face is exactly six inches 
  away from a guy's cock?


  I'm trying to change the subject right now. 


  "Well, I believe, um, that those acts are, um, all submissive to the female," 
  I say, hoping that will lead to other topics, like ancient women's lib or even 
  modern women's lib. I don't care. 


  "Performing fellatio is not submissive to the female," she says, looking up at 
  me.


  I turn to her, putting my crotch directly in line with her face and look down 
  at her.


  "Oh, really? How do you figure that? The man is in charge. He has his sexual 
  organ in a woman's mouth. How is that *not* submissive?" I ask her.


  "You really think the man is in charge? That is where you are wrong," she says 
  to me. Scully can even carry on this conversation without cracking a slight 
  grin. Nothing gets to her.


  "The art is representative of the submissive nature of females in that 
  society..." I start to say.


  "I'm not talking about the art, nor am I talking about some ancient 
  civilization," she says.


  "What are you saying?" I ask.


  "While you are suggesting that the woman is the submissive partner in certain 
  sexual acts, especially those that do not result in the perpetuation of the 
  species, I'm saying that, from my perspective, she appears to be quite in 
  control. Complete control."


  "Your perspective?" I ask, knowing full well the proximity of her face to 
  certain parts of my anatomy. 


  "Yes, my perspective," she says, her eyes dropping down from mine, to my 
  crotch region.


  Damn. If she keeps this up, she's going to be looking at more than the front 
  of a pair of Gap Khakis. I know I should step down from this chair, but I just 
  can't break away from this position we have put ourselves into. 


  "It's the same the other way around. When a male performs cunnilingus..."


  "Do you know how many years I've waited to hear you say that word?" I ask her.


  She doesn't miss a beat.


  "...it puts the female under his control. To a degree. But not the same degree 
  as a woman performing fellatio."


  "How do you figure that?"


  "The woman is always in control," she says, her eyes meeting mine again.


  //Where in the hell is this leading, Scully?// I desperately want to ask her. 
  And why can't I get off this chair?


  I put my hands on my hips and she just looks at me.


  "Even with all the male posturing in the world, the woman is still in 
control."


  My hands drop.


  "I didn't know I was 'posturing.' All I was doing was..." 


  "No point in defending yourself. You know I'm right. When was the last time a 
  woman performed oral sex on you and you were in control?" she asks.


  Does she really want me to answer that? 


  "I don't remember," is all I say to her.


  She looks at me as if she can't tell if I'm lying of if I really can't 
  remember. I'm certainly not going to let her know it is the latter of the two.


  "Scully, although I appreciate your opinion on the matter, I still think you 
  are wrong. And until you can prove your supposition with more than 'the woman 
  is always in control,' I'm not going to believe..."


  I step backwards, forgetting for a second where I am. I nearly fall from the 
  chair.


  She reaches out, grabs me by the waistband and pulls me forwards towards her, 
  preventing me from toppling over and falling on my ass. 


  I know there is absolutely nothing erotic about this. She just saved me from 
  getting some nasty bruises. Yet, there she is, my partner, with her hand still 
  on the front of my pants.


  "Thanks," I say.


  "Who's in control, Mulder?" she asks me, her hand still not moving.


  Good God. Surely she must have felt that gentle stirring in my khakis. If she 
  did, she doesn't pull her hand back in disgust.


  Now I really want to know where this is going. My heart is beating a mile a 
  minute as I look down at her looking at me. 


  Her hand slowly works on the button of my pants.


  "Jesus, Scully...you don't have to prove..."


  The button is undone now and her hand slowly tugs my zipper down.


  //Oh God. Oh God. This can't be happening// my mind keeps trying to tell 
  itself as I desperately will my body not to react to her hand so close to my 
  cock.


  My mind loses the battle as she tugs my pants and boxers down to my ankles. My 
  only saving grace is the polo shirt I am wearing is long enough to cover me 
up.


  I look down at her and realize how stupid this must look. I'm still standing 
  on the chair, with my pants about my ankles and a hard-on tenting my shirt. I 
  hope no one has video surveillance running in my apartment right now. And if 
  they do, where in the hell can I get a copy of the tape?


  Scully tugs on my shirt, hinting for me to pull it off. I yank it over my head 
  by the collar without her having to ask twice. Now I'm standing nearly naked 
  in front of this woman I have known for years. The only body parts still 
  covered are my ankles and feet.


  She hasn't even touched me yet, per se, and still I'm nearly dying here.


  Then her hand moves slowly to my erection and she tugs ever so gently at me. 


  An involuntary moan escapes from me at the sensation of this first contact. 
  Her hand begins to move up and down more firmly now, applying just the right 
  amount of pressure. I think I might actually fall off of this chair and I 
  don't really care. I just hope she doesn't try to catch me by what she has her 
  one hand on right now.


  Then she does it. Her hand stops moving but holds me firmly as she moves her 
  face closer to me. I shut my eyes. The image of her mouth coming into contact 
  with my cock is almost enough to make me come right there. 


  Her tongue traces a gentle line up the underside of my shaft to the tip. A 
  million little flashes of light explode in my head instantaneously. Then her 
  tongue swirls around the tip of my penis, softly, gently, and I am sure I must 
  have died.


  She pulls her head back from me and grabs my hips, guiding me to step down 
  from my makeshift ladder. This is damn near impossible to do when one's pants 
  are wrapped around their ankles, so I have to jump down.


  Scully then pushes me backwards into the chair and then kneels before me. She 
  slowly, teasingly moves her head back towards me, and pulls me completely into 
  her mouth. 


  I don't want her to think she has to go on with this if she doesn't want to, 
  although I'm certainly not complaining. 


  "Scully, um, listen, oh. You don't have to do this, you know...if you don't, 
  um, want, oh, to..." I try to say to her in coherent English.


  She answers me by gently grazing her teeth along my cock as she moves up and 
  down me. 


  "Okay," is all my addled brain can think to say. 


  I don't want to get into the millions of cliché things I could think about her 
  lips around me as she slowly, rhythmically fucks me with her mouth. 


  Her mouth is perfect. That is all I have to say about this. 


  I sit back in the chair she put me in and try to remember my blow job 
  etiquette. I know I don't pull her towards me. Women hate that, I recall. 
  Besides, she couldn't get me in much deeper. I know I shouldn't grab her hair 
  or anything, but I can't help myself. I wind my fingers into her soft hair, 
  needing something to hold on to; something to ground me and keep me from 
  floating right off this chair.


  I look down upon the most wonderful thing I've ever seen in my life. Scully is 
  giving me head. Excuse me. Performing fellatio. And, damn it, she's in 
  control. How in the hell did she do that?


  We have never even kissed, and now she has complete control of my cock. She 
  has complete control of me, regardless of my cock. I am the submissive one, 
  moaning my ass off here sitting on my own chair in my own apartment. 


  Her mouth starts to move faster, her tongue never stopping its slight flicking 
  of the head of my shaft when she pulls up. 


  My brain and body are about to topple over the edge as I slip into more 
  etiquette musings. Do I let her know I'm going to come? Surely she can tell. 
  She's a doctor for chrissakes. And obviously she's done this before. She'll 
  know when to pull her head away, right?


  Or maybe she likes for men to come in her mouth. God, now that's a topic we 
  never discussed on all those road trips. Scully, do you spit or swallow? 


  I almost laugh, but her workings in my lap region prevent me from doing 
  anything else but moaning something about God and Jesus and that I can't 
  believe this is happening. 


  Then it does happen. My body jerks reflexively and I come in this woman's 
  mouth. Scully's mouth. For one much too brief moment, I can see nothing but 
  heaven and hell all wrapped up in one, and then I come back to earth and hope 
  she is not too mad at me. She had to be able to tell, right?


  She slowly rises from between my legs, her nose and mouth gently edging their 
  way up my stomach and chest to my face. We are going to kiss now, after that 
  most intimate act. It seems backwards, but not at all wrong.


  She places her mouth over mine. And deposits my seed back into me. 


  I pull away, almost gagging at the new taste sensation in my mouth.


  "Next time, Mulder, don't you forget who's in control," she says to me as she 
  grins an absolutely evil grin. 


  //Next time?// I think, as I swallow what she left in my mouth. Thank you! 
  There is going to be a next time. 


  "Never," I tell her as I pull her on my lap to really kiss her, "Never will I 
  forget."


  THE END


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