Title: Outgoing... the second part of In Coming
Author: Jori Remington
Rating: NC-17 for sure
Category: SH
Keywords: MSR, MSS (Mulder Scully Smut) and MTS (Mandatory Thanksgiving
Smut), slight bit of bondage but nothing too serious. All in good fun,
folks.
Summary: Mulder tries to regain control of the situation at hand
Archive: Yes
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to my. They belong to CC,
1013 and FOX.
Author's notes: Once again, a special thanks goes out to Rachel G., my
editor of all things smutty and not so smutty, and the only person who
would try to call 1-900-FOX-MLDR just to see what it might be...

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

I stand half naked in the hallway watching Scully walk towards the
elevator.

My thoughts focus not on the act that just happened here, nor on how
beautiful she is as she walks away from me. I don't even care that at
any minute one of my neighbors could come out and see my naked ass
hanging out from under my shirt.

There are only two thoughts in my head as I watch the elevator doors
slide shut.

The first is that I'm a wrecked man. Finished. Destroyed. Gone. All
because no other mouth besides Scully's will ever be enough for me for
the rest of my life.

The second  thought is that by the end of this weekend, I want her
naked, splayed out in front of me, quivering...no, quaking under my
tongue. I want to hear Scully moan. I want to see her washed away like
beach sand during an outgoing tide.

I also want Miss Thesaurus to start with the word cunnilingus and end
with 'eat me, Mulder.'

Most of all, I want to be the one who stays fully dressed through the
whole act. I want to be in complete control this time.

I sound like an asshole. I would want her to enjoy herself. I most
certainly would. I just want her to enjoy herself so much that she's
jerking like an electrocuted frog and screaming out my name when she
comes.

I go back into my apartment and sit down on the chair that is now going
to be part of every fantasy I ever have. I must admit that woman knocked
me on my ass today. Never, in all these years, did I ever think this
would happen. Not like this, anyway. Scully, my partner and nothing more
Scully, just gave me the best blow job I've ever had in my life. I reach
down for my pants that I had finally managed to kick off right before
she left, and I drape them over my lap.

I shut my eyes and try to relive the whole incident in my head. I still
am not sure how the whole thing started.  I don't know what came over
the two of us.  After more than half a decade, I succumbed to her after
simple discussion of old pottery. She had me. Big time. Scully had me
naked, crying out for her like an insane man, and she never dropped a
stitch of clothing.

She was in control. Just like she said.

By tomorrow night, that will all be changed.

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

The opening of the Andean art exhibit is filled with people dressed in
formal wear, standing around drinking wine and eating cheese and
crackers. Supporters of the arts, no doubt, plus several Peruvian
dignitaries. Slowly, a few people make their way around from exhibit to
exhibit, commenting on the various pieces of sculpture and weavings
recently obtained by the museum. Native flute music punctuates the air
with a somber sound.

I'm not so nave to believe these events are about the actual art, but
are about making money for the museum. Most of the people here never
even look at the art, choosing to use this time networking or
socializing with their financial peers.

I look around for Mulder, who is customarily late. I'm the only woman
here wearing a business suit with a weapon hidden in back, and I would
feel better if he were equally attired and standing next to me. Then
what we really are would be more obvious.

Dr. Juan Perez asked us to be here tonight. He's so worried that more
items will turn up missing from his exhibit and be found linked to a
dead body somewhere in the D.C. area. So far it has happened three
times, and no connections to anyone inside the museum can be made.

"Agent Scully!" I hear called from across the room as Dr. Perez
approaches me. He may be the expert behind the works in this display,
but I can tell he does not have much interest in the gala going on
around him. His tuxedo is over ten years out of date, and he doesn't
even have on dress shoes. He looks like he would rather let the glad
handing corporate people handle this, and that he would prefer to just
study each and every object as an artifact, not necessarily as art.

"Good evening, Dr. Perez. Quite a turnout," I say, nodding at the crowd.

"I should be proud, but these same people show up for every one of
these. I prefer it when students show up, make their sketches of the
work, really enjoy it for its true value. There is a piece of sculpture
that came in this morning that I wanted to show you. This latest piece
is beautiful. Yesterday, I noticed you and your partner seemed
particularly interested in the Moche art," Dr. Perez says, his eyebrows
waggling slightly.

He guides me to a large plexiglass cube displaying a sculpture of two
people entwined, performing oral sexual favors on each other. I can feel
a blush rising to my cheeks, and try to ask a question about date or
origin, but I am as tongue-tied as the two figures immortalized in clay.

"Well, Agent Scully, I must get back to the drudgery of hobnobbing.
Please feel free to go into the back rooms if you and Agent Mulder feel
it necessary. There is a lot to explore back there. Hopefully, nothing
out of the ordinary will happen tonight," Dr. Perez says to me as he
turns to leave me.

"I hope not either," I say, as I stand staring at the sculpture, "I
mean, nothing will happen. Go and enjoy yourself."

I'm still looking at the piece when I feel a familiar hand on my
shoulder.

"Boo," Mulder says, leaning in close to my ear.

"You're late," is all I say back. I'm too scared to turn to him,
frightened the blush might still be in my cheeks. Get control of
yourself, Dana Scully. You can't lose control now. Just remember how
much control you had yesterday.  Right. That was really controlled.

"I'm sorry. I had to get my tuxedo from the cleaners," he tells me.

Blushing cheeks be damned, I think as I spin around. I will kill him if
he really did come dressed in formal wear, leaving me in my everyday
wear with a gun bulging slightly on my backside.

Mulder is wearing one of his normal suits with a red silk tie. With the
exception of his neckware, his attire screams Fed just as much as mine
does. At least we checked our London Fogs at the coat check.

"I had you that time, and I'd like to have you like this next time," he
says with a smile, as he nods his head toward the sculpture I was
looking at.

I touch his face and motion for him to come closer.

"You will never have me," I say, as I take my hand off his face and walk
away.

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

I look at the artwork Scully was studying, wanting to see if this was
what brought the slight blush to her cheeks or whether it was coming in
contact with me for the first time since our little encounter yesterday.

 It is just an earth-colored sculpture of a man and a women in a lovely
'69' position. The only thing that makes it odd is she has a handle
coming out of her back and he has a spout where his legs should be. Not
only erotic, but quite functional to boot.

 That made her blush? 'Women are always in control' Scully is blushing
over two clay figures going down on each other? This might be easier
than I thought.

"Scully, wait up," I call after her, "Did you talk to Dr. Perez yet
tonight?"

"Yes. Nothing unusual has happened this evening. I don't thing anything
will, not with all these people around," Scully says, never looking at
me and not slowing her pace down any. Of course, I can keep up.

Regret was the one thing I never considered about this whole thing, but
that is what I'm starting to feel coming from her. Damn it. This isn't
how I wanted this to go.

"Scully, about yesterday..."

"Mulder, let's just forget it," she says.

I stop following her. She's knocked me on my ass for the second time in
two days.

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

I know Mulder just won't forget it. I can't forget it either, but I
don't think this is the time or place for us to discuss any sexual
dalliances that might have gone on yesterday. Might have. I can't
believe that this happened anymore than I can believe in most anything
else having to do with Mulder.

I wander around the exhibit avoiding Mulder for half an hour. When I
catch him watching me from across the room, my knees nearly buckle out
from under me. I don't know what I want right now, and that frustrates
me to no end. I started this 'oral control' game and I have no idea how
to end it. I don't know if I even want it to end. At the same time, I'm
afraid of where it might lead, how much control both of us might lose.

Mulder finally makes a move and approaches me.

"Scully, should we go check out the back rooms?" he asks me, looking at
his watch. This exhibit is supposed to end in another two hours.

I just look down at my feet, not answering him, which is a stupid move
on my part.

"Come on, Scully. We are working. It's not like I'm going to jump you on
an Egyptian sarcophagus or anything," he says, as he moves brusquely by
me, forcing me to follow him.

"This is Peruvian..." I start to say, as he opens an 'employees only'
door.

"I know," is the last thing I hear him mutter as the door closes, the
two of us on opposite sides.

"Damn it," I say under my breath, before following him back into the
storage areas behind the main exhibit.

"Mulder?" I call out after I can't find him for several minutes.

"I'm right here," he says from not even two feet behind me.

I turn to him and notice that any of the fire I saw in his eyes when I
left him in the hallway yesterday, or even from when he first approached
me by the sculpture tonight, has been extinguished in the last half
hour.

"Did you find anything?" I ask as businesslike as I possibly can.

"I don't think we are going to find anything here, Scully. I'm sure it
just has to do with unlucky art thieves meeting untimely deaths. We can
just go home and let the D.C. Police handle this," he says as he heads
towards the door.

I don't want to lose him before I get the chance to talk to him.

"Did you drive here?" I ask, wanting to know if he thought this would go
any further tonight.

"No," Mulder answers as he stops moving towards his exit. His head
droops down slightly towards his chest, as if he's guilty of something.

"How do you plan on getting home?" I ask, knowing full well I'm entering
dangerous territory with him.

"I'll take a cab."

So many things are swimming around in my head right now, knocking me out
of focus and off balance. I like things predictable, orderly and
controlled. But a demonic little voice inside tells me I don't have to
be in control all the time, that I can just let go. Damn it, this is
Mulder. I'm safe with Mulder. I attempt to push these thoughts back, but
I end up blurting out, "I'll drive you home."

I step by him, trying to make him follow me this time.

He grabs my wrist as I try to make it past him and he pulls me to his
chest. I tense up enough for him to feel it.

"What are you afraid of? I just want to show you something before you
drive me home," he says, as he lets me go from his tight hold and tugs
on my arm, urging me to follow.

"What are you going to show me?" I ask, while visions of pornographic
post-modern art fills my head.

"You'll see."

He guides me into an area of the museum used for art restoration and
recovery. The flute music doesn't reach back here and it is silent. The
only light comes from a dim, flickering fluorescent tube above us.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he asks me of the statue he led me to. The
sculpture is of a man and a woman entwined in each other's arms, lovers
trapped forever in white marble. Although not as suggestive as the Moche
art, it if more realistic and more lifelike. The couple's passion is
struggling to be freed from the stone that holds them static. Like
another couple I know.

"Yes. It's very beautiful," I say, as I walk around the object, always
staying on the opposite side of Mulder.

"Look at her. So elegant. So exquisite and refined. Yet...so unafraid.
She knows he would never hurt her. She isn't afraid of being out of
control with him. Actually, she wants it. She wants to be a little
reckless," he says to me softly. His voice is tugging at me in ways it
never has before.

"Considering she's a Greek goddess, she can afford to lose a little
control. Tomorrow, she'll just fling him back to earth until she needs
his...services again," I say, amazed at the nervous cracking in my own
voice.

I stop moving and stand directly in front of the sculpture,
contemplating their frozen expressions. She looks content and he looks
far too pleased with himself. Is that what I'm afraid of? The pleasure
or the person wanting to please me? Am I that afraid of letting him
'have' me, giving him control over another part of myself?

Mulder moves in behind me and wraps me in his arms.

"He wouldn't care if he got flung into hell in the morning as long as he
got to spend one night making her smile like that," he whispers into my
ear in a voice so rich in resonance and timbre, I could almost lose
myself right here and now. He must feel it, because he holds me tighter.

He begins to nuzzle me on my neck, and I can feel my control begin to
wane again. I'm losing to him, and he knows it. Maybe in losing, we both
win.

"You smell good," he says, "like vanilla. No wonder I've been hungry all
night."

That voice that earlier made me offer him a ride home kicks  in to make
me say something stupid, and I try to suppress it. Just like I have done
for so long with so many feelings.

"Hungry for what?" I ask.

"Guess," is all he says.

"Mulder, stop," I say, pushing him away, "There are security cameras
everywhere. Come on. I'll give  you a ride home."

I just didn't tell him who's home I would be driving him to,
intentionally misleading him. If we are going to continue playing this
game of control, then I'm at least going to be on my own turf.

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

continued in part 2

Title: Outgoing
Author: Jori Remington
See first part for disclaimers, etc.

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

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to scream my name. I want you to moan. I want you to come
for me like you have never come before."

"Uh...oh...okay..."

"Where do you want it? Here? The bed? The couch? The kitchen table?"

"Right here...on the wall...is...um...just fine. Or the bed. Oh God,
Scully."

I reach to unbutton her suit jacket, but she intercepts my wandering
hand with an iron grip around my wrist.  This isn't working out as I had
planned, but I'll be damned if I'm going to complain now. My jacket
quickly lands in a heap on the floor and I have a feeling most of my
other clothing are soon going to follow it. So
much for staying fully dressed. I've had a hard-on from the moment we
parked in front of her apartment, and I'm dying for her hand to grip
onto more than just my wrist.

Instead, she just keeps rubbing me through the material, until I can
hardly stand it anymore.

"Scully, this is  my last somewhat clean pair of pants, and I can't
come, sorry, go to work on Monday with a cum stain on the front," I tell
her.

With a smirk and an arched eyebrow, she removes my holster and sets it
aside. Then Scully works at the buckle on my belt until she gets it
undone. She studies the strap of leather with a frightening intensity,
slowly looping it in her hands, then quickly yanking. My dick jumps at
the snap of leather on leather. And here I thought she could only snap
latex.

At my pathetic whimper, she takes pity and undoes the fastenings holding
up my pants. She tugs them down my hips, and I make sure to actually
kick them all the way off this time. My shoes and socks have been long
gone, though I don't remember how exactly.

She looks at the boxers I'm wearing and stops.

"Mulder, that was just a bit presumptuous of you, wasn't it?" she asks
me, her eyebrow going up.

 I look down, not sure if her reference is to my one-eyed snake trying
to slither his way out of my fly or my black silk boxers. Her hand
running a brief course along the curve of my ass saves me from the
humiliation of having to ask.

"Come on Scully, these are my usual Saturday undies. If you look on the
back, you'll see 'Saturday' embroidered across my ass," I tell her.

She actually turns me around to check.

"I don't see anything but this..."

She tugs them down leaving my ass bare except for the back of my dress
shirt. She presses me up against the wall as if I'm the next mutant she
has captured, and my arms instinctively go up. I can feel her knee my
legs apart and her hands travel across my backside.

"Jeesh, Scully. Do you frisk all suspects like this? No wonder all the
criminals you've ever apprehended look so damn happy when you're done
with them."

Her hand has snaked in between my legs and she is holding my balls in
the palm of her hands. If she doesn't turn me around and let me do
something with this erection of mine, I'm going to be humping her damn
living room wall.

"I'm just checking for any *concealed* contraband," she says, adding
emphasis on concealed with a squeeze of my nuts.

"The only thing I'm carrying is too damned hard to conceal," I manage to
squeak.

She finally turns me around and after a pointed look at my 'contraband',
her hands go up to my tie.

"This is nice, Mulder. Did you wear it special for tonight, or is it
your usual 'Saturday' tie? I don't think I've ever seen this one
before."

"I, um..." don't know what to say.

Her hand undoes the knot, and she pulls it out of under my collar. She
then puts in over her shoulder and goes to work on the buttons of my
shirt. At least she's not one of those women who tries to yank the
buttons off a dress shirt. It doesn't happen that easily and usually
causes neck injuries.

She throws my shirt onto the pile with the rest of clothes, and tells me
to turn back around.

"Scully, please..." is all I manage to get out, before she turns me
around herself.

This time she pulls my hands behind me and I can feel my tie being
looped just right and pulled to hold them together. It isn't tight
enough that I couldn't get out of the soft restraints, but I think it's
the thought that counts.

Damn. I'm really losing this time.

She turns me back around and leads my naked ass to her bedroom, where
she pushes me gently backwards so I'm sitting on her bed. Then a still
fully clothed Scully kneels in front of me. My erect cock knows what
coming, always pointing directly toward her mouth like a needle points
north on a compass. She buries her head in my lap and pulls me
completely into her mouth.

Everything I said yesterday still holds true. Even if this isn't how I
wanted the night to go, I'm one lucky bastard.

"Oh, Scully...oh, that...is...too...good..." I moan, as she continues to
flick her tongue across the head of my cock. I don't care if we never
even have traditional, old fashioned sex, just as long as I can have
that mouth on me everyday. If this is how she has to be in control, then
she can control me for the rest of my life.

I wish she hadn't tied my hands together because I want so much to touch
her, but I am certainly enjoying this side of Scully I have only known
since yesterday. Except this time I'm going to tell her when I'm coming
and I won't leave it up to her 'expertise' to guess when.

And it is going to be soon.

"Scully, hey, I can't hold off much longer... if you don't want to..."

But she doesn't move her lips away as my body spasms and I once again
come into her mouth. Well, at least I tried to warn her. She must like
it. This time when she comes near my mouth to kiss me, I turn my head
away.

"Open up," I tell her, "I want to see what you've got in there. No more
of that 'snowballing' crap."

Scully opens her mouth. Yes, Scully swallows. After proving herself, she
moves in for a kiss. Her lips and tongue tug, pull and suck on mine in
the same intensity with which she just sucked my dick.

"Snowballing?" she asks when she pulls away from me, "Where did you
learn about that?"

I just look at her and raise my eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah. Mr. Porno King. I suppose you've seen everything," she says,
as she undoes the knot holding my hands together.

"Not exactly. I have yet to see you naked in bed with me. I'm beginning
to think you are sewn into that clothes in the morning. It's getting a
little unfair. You've seen me in all my glory...conscious even this
time...twice now," I say to her.

She moves away from me slightly and says nothing.

"Come on, Scully. Remember that goddess? Remember how happy she looked?
At least let me try. If I can make you that happy, we can settle this
'who's in control during oral sex debate'. Then we can return to our old
lives first thing Monday morning," I say, knowing that it's a lie. I'll
never be able to go back. Every time I see her purse or lick her lips,
my cock will twitch in remembrance.

She just looks shyly down at her floor.

"Scully, if you can strip me, pat me down and tie me up in your living
room, you have nothing to be afraid of. I keep telling you that," I say
to her.

"It's not that, Mulder. It is just that I've never been one to just let
go. The last time I tried, well, you know," she says to me quietly.

"I'm not some guy you never met before. I know you trust me with your
life. Hell, you trusted me to take care of your plants once," I say to
her.

She smirks, shakes her head and says, "That's not a mistake I'll make
twice."

After a long pause, and an impromptu stare down, she says, with a voice
more like the Scully that had me up against the living room wall, "Just
let me do exactly what I want to do, Mulder. Nothing more, nothing
less."

"As long as part of that includes you and me naked, I don't care," I
say.

She rises off the bed and I follow suit.

"Undress me," she tells me.

I move to her, and like a virgin with trembling hands, I fumble with the
buttons on her suit jacket. I didn't expect to be nervous at this point,
but for some reason I am.

I finally get the buttons undone and she slides it down her shoulders,
revealing the white silk shell she was wearing underneath. I turn her
around, and I remove her gun and holster and place it on her nightstand.

I let her stand where she is, still facing away from me, and I slowly
pull the zipper of her skirt down her hip. It falls off of her easily
and she pushes it aside with her foot. I look down to discover she is
wearing a black garter belt and hose, plus black panties.

"Scully, that was a bit presumptuous of you, wasn't it?' I ask, looking
down upon her perfect ass, contemplating getting my hands on it.

"Oh no. These are my usual 'Saturday' undergarments," she says
teasingly, as she holds her arms up so I can pull the rest of her outer
clothing off. She didn't have a bra on under there.

Oh, yeah. She's in control. No doubt about it. She's leading me exactly
where she wants me to take her.

She turns to face me and I can feel myself grow hard. Her eyebrow arches
up to match my latest erection.

"Wow, Mulder, that's quick reloading," she says with a smirk.

"What can I say Scully, your Saturday usuals are an inspiration," I say.

 I run my index finger lightly under the thin strap of her garter belt,
touching her warm flesh. My thoughts flitter to what it would feel like
inside of her, but I know that we won't cross that line. That isn't what
she thinks this particular game is about.

"So, what next, Scully?" I ask as I squirm around a little.

"Well, what do you have in mind? What would Fox Mulder fantasize about
when it comes to me and oral sex? Would he like for me to be prim and
proper and say 'cunnilingus' again, seeing it was such a turn on last
time he heard me say it? Or maybe he likes it a little more sordid? I
would guess even just downright dirty. What would you rather me say? How
would you react if you heard me say 'eat my pussy, Mulder?'"

Jesus! Can this woman read my mind or something? I wonder if she knows
what I'm thinking right now. She could probably make an educated guess,
for the 'salute' I'm giving her is a really *big* clue.

"What....whatever you want to call it, Scully," I finally stammer.

She is an enigma. She keeps changing from delicate little school girl to
brazen harlot from one minute to the next. I can hardly keep up.

She puts one foot up on her bed slowly unclips the snap holding up the
hose. She repeats the procedure with the other foot. Scully turns her
back to me again, and I unclip the piece holding the whole thing up. It
falls to her floor, soon followed by her panties. I stare at her tattoo
for a brief second, trying to memorize it.

She turns to me and I discover that even in the middle of winter, Dana
Scully has her bikini line waxed into a perfect triangular mohawk. I'm
all of a sudden jealous of whoever it is who gets to perform this
intimate act upon her.

Scully sits on the edge of the bed, and I push her gently backwards. I
slowly move in between her thighs, coaxing them apart.

"Wait," she say, as she moves to turn off the lamp. This is okay with
me. I do my best work in the dark.

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

I know what he wants. Mulder wants me to have an orgasm to rival any
ever on heaven and earth. I would love to be able to scream; to be able
to thrash about like a fish out of water. That just has never been me.
Even with the man I trust the most in the world, I know it isn't going
to happen.

He is more than welcome to keep trying, though. It does feel wonderful.
No, better than wonderful. After all these years of just my own hands
and dreams, I have forgotten how nice it is to have a man down there
concentrating on nothing but me. His mouth is moving perfectly, as are
his fingers.

I need to concentrate more. It has always been hard for me to allow
myself this release under someone else's hand. Or tongue in this case.

Of course, if he is not convinced I'm happy, this might not have to end.
I would love to feel him inside me just once. Too bad this is not what
he thinks this game is about.

"Mulder, honey, come here," I say to him, gently touching his head.

He looks up at me like a little prairie dog coming out of his burrow. I
can't tell by his expression whether he is more surprised I asked him to
stop or that I called him honey.

"What's the matter, Scully? Am I doing something wrong? Is this not the
way you want it to feel?" He asks as he moves closer to me.

He has that lost little boy expression on his face that always tugs at
my heartstrings. I trace the curve of his face with my thumb, hoping I
didn't hurt his feelings.

"No, Mulder, you're not doing anything wrong. You are just fine. Let's
try it like this for awhile," I say as I maneuver him into a position
where we are mutually pleasuring each other.

This way maybe he won't notice that my orgasms don't come with
thunderclaps and lightening bolts. I pull him into my mouth again and my
hand moves around to his backside. I gently probe around until I hear
him moan against me in pleasure.

Now I know he won't notice.

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

Scully is smiling. I love it when she smiles.

"Are you happy now?" I ask her.

I am propped up on my elbow looking down on her. She is so beautiful.
Her eyes are closed and she looks content.

"Mmm..." is all she says.

"Because if you are not, we can keep trying," I say.

"I'm fine, Mulder."

She knows she won the game. She had me under the complete control of
that perfect mouth of hers three times. And I only had her once. Well,
is only Saturday. Maybe there's a chance for me yet.

Scully comes quietly. Although it doesn't match any of my fantasies, it
suits her personality. She can be impassioned and reserved at the same
time. Just like the rest of her life.

She can push me around as if I was a cheap hooker on a Friday night, yet
she comes so softly and gently. Just like that beach sand I imagined,
floating out on the tide. The waves were crashing through my body, yet
she was only the sand riding them out. The only reason I knew it
happened was she started giggling and she pushed my face away.

Even I was quiet this time. What she was doing to me would have normally
had me crying out her name, begging for mercy, but I was otherwise
occupied.

"Hey, Scully?" I ask her.

She opens her eyes and looks at me.

"What, Mulder?"

"Who do  you think has control during sexual intercourse? The man or the
woman?"

THE END

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

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