Scent of a Woman IV-Tiramisu
by Terma99@aol.com

Part (4/4)

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

He lifted her back onto the bed and she reached up on her 
knees, grabbing a bedpost, exposing her toes and back to 
him. "Like this," she sighed, and he slipped up behind her, 
running his hands up her arms to grip her fingers in his, his 
cock nudging between her legs as he kissed her shoulder. She 
turned her head, "Sit back."

He sat back on his thighs and she straddled him, lowering 
herself down the bedpost. His hands guided her ass lower and 
lower until she felt him make contact, begin to spread her 
damp lips apart and then slip forward and out of range. 

Oops. If this had been an Apollo docking procedure, they 
would have lost the moon. She hoisted herself back up and 
tried it again with similar results. She grunted impatiently--
she was determined to get him stuffed in there one way or 
another. It didn't help that he was beginning to laugh, making 
the thing jiggle all over the place. 

"Mulder, hold still."

"Come 'ere." He grabbed her around the waist and pulled 
her back to fall on top of him. She struggled out of his grip 
and flipped over, slapping him on the chest. 

"Don't make me handcuff you," she pouted. He bit his lip, his 
eyes dancing mirthfully. 

"I might have to take you up on that," he said, as he spread 
her legs and rolled her under him, and began to thrust along 
her folds, getting himself good and slick. The stimulation 
against her clit made her grimace and grind against him.

"Funny," she spoke between pants of air.  "I didn't have you 
pegged as a missionary man," she said, challenging him. 

With one last perfect stroke, he sneered and flipped her over 
onto her stomach, bending her right knee up. "I'm not." And 
taking himself in hand, began to guide the head of his cock 
snugly into her.

"Oh!" Good lord, she felt that. He stopped just after the first 
inch and pulled out. There was a pleasant burning feeling 
there now. He reached around her hip to massage it and spread 
her lips and thrust firmly again. Her face hit the pillow and 
she moaned. Another crawling inch and then a full retreat, 
a massage, and another widening, delving inch. Another 
certain push and he was nearly there, but he stilled, rubbing 
his nose over the dip of her bare shoulders mumbling 
something under his breath before making another full retreat.

"You feel wonderful," she said into the softness of the pillow. 
"Don't worry about me, I'll adjust." 

"Worried about you?" he quipped. "I'm worried about *me*."

Scully batted the pillow out of the way and sat up on her hands 
and knees, spreading herself to him, begging to receive his 
mouth, fingers, cock, *something*. She felt him scoot up 
behind her and using his knees, spread her legs farther apart. 
His fingers stroked her gently, fondling the opening, tracing 
the rim with his thumb. And then once again she felt the 
blunt nudge of his cock against her, wet and permeable. He 
worked it just inside her in a circular stroke, easing himself 
in. She felt her legs begin to shake and tried to still herself, 
but she couldn't stand the waiting anymore, and raising her 
head, thrust herself onto him in a sudden motion that drove 
him home. 


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

Inside inside inside.

Mulder knew the moment his first finger entered the snug 
hollow of her body that he was in for it. How many hours had 
he promised her? Good thing he had delayed this event for a 
few minutes of conversation. In retrospect, that might make 
it seem like he had exhibited some form of control.

He was completely stunned by the feel of her as he started to 
move in her slowly, his body flooding with sensation. It had 
been almost half a decade since he'd felt the hot naked wetness 
of a woman. Sure, there'd been a handful of brief encounters 
throughout the years, but he eventually abandoned that 
practice as he found his soul tended to wait outside the back 
door until his dick was finished. The guilt soon outweighed 
the physical relief. Truth was, it had been a solo act for some 
time now. 

His spiritual awareness was learning how to work with his 
body again, taking stern control of it. He loved this woman 
desperately, he desired her more than anything he'd ever 
quested for in his life. He needed even more to show her 
that. Tonight, the penis had to wait outside. He withdrew.

"Why are you stopping?" 

"Desensitizing," he answered, trying to sound scientific for 
her benefit. "It's like stepping into a hot tub. It feels really 
good once you're in, but it's always a bit too much at first."

"Ah, I see. I'll just be here when you're ready..."

He tried to find the humor in her snide statement and gave 
himself a three-second pep talk while he prepared himself 
for another go. He knew he'd be fine if he could just get through 
the first few minutes. Just two minutes until his dick could 
settle down enough for him to get some kind of grip on this 
situation. Maybe he should have lit the Elvis prayer candle 
tonight in preparation.

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

After a few false starts, Mulder seemed to regain a measure 
of confidence in himself as he filled her with his sex. The 
tightness she had felt at first was quickly subsiding and 
being replaced by a deeper, richer feeling. 

Face to the sheets, she turned her head, moaning in 
appreciation, and slid two fingers back against her folds 
just to feel the reality of him surging past her lips and into 
the depths of her opening. She touched the root of him, 
feeling its thick heat and with wet fingers reached underneath 
to stroke his balls.

He hummed pleasantly at the touch as he continued his slow, 
but even progress, his hands on her ass, holding her steady.

"Do you feel alright?"

"Yes." Oh my god, yes. She had forgotten this feeling, how it 
felt to have a man sunk into her. She could hardly remember 
the words that went with these sensations: hardness, fullness, 
depth, tension, need. She had nearly forgotten how all-
encompassing this act was--how the strife and stress she 
had endured these past years at his side faded into pale 
forgetfulness at the simple stroke of his physical being 
merging into hers.

"Then tell me how you like this."

He began to take it faster, quicker, with more force. He 
was kneeling upright, letting his balls and pelvis connect 
in a firm resonating pound. He was so deep, it felt like the 
end of his cock was going to burst something deep in her 
skull. She didn't have words to tell him how fucking incredible 
he felt so she let her mouth open and speak to him in a 
wordless language of soft naked sounds.

He paused to shift his knees, and adjusted his angle until he 
was stroking along a sensory zone she'd never discovered 
before. She cried out and let him know that was definitely the 
right spot. It was unbelievable. She couldn't believe just a few 
hours ago she'd been warning him not to expect much. There 
was not a single doubt in her mind that he could please her, 
easily. 

"You feel so good, Scully," he rasped, running his hands down 
her back. "I want to take you away to some deserted island for 
a week where I can throw you down on the beach and make 
love to you twenty-four hours a day."

"We'd starve," she whispered, letting her fingers trace over 
the muscles working in his thigh.

"I'll feed you bananas...and have the natives leave jugs of 
fresh water near our private lagoon. We'll sleep on blankets 
in the sand and bathe in the ocean. Can you hear the seabirds?"

She could, just above the gentle roll of the ocean, bright and 
clear. She could lose herself there, so easily, falling into the 
warm sand. Her legs turned to putty and she let them 
collapse. Mulder held back and let her sink down onto her 
stomach. She curled herself, making herself smaller, drawing 
her legs up to her chest, her arms under her breasts in an 
effort to weather the sensations sweeping over her, awakening 
lost emotional responses deep in her psyche, calling to her in 
velvet echoes.

He reentered her, his weight falling over her, covering her, his 
long cock moving steadily in and out of her as they sank 
slowly onto the bed. She whimpered, feeling moisture spring 
to her eyes. All she could feel was how deep he was, how 
complete she felt having him there, like he was designed for 
her, solid, the smell of his sweat and his groin mixed with 
hers, his lips gathering the tears that slid down her cheek. 

God, he was right. She didn't want this to end, ever. A week 
might not be long enough. This is what it's like to be fucked 
by a man who really loves you, she told herself, who really 
knows you. 


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

She was under him, curled into the tiniest of packages, 
and he was overcome with a powerful need to protect her. 
He covered her with his body, kissing her hair and cheek, 
thrusting her against the firm mattress beneath them. He 
felt masterful, powerful, like there was nothing in the world 
more important in the creation of man than to be in bed 
with this woman, loving her. He had planned to take a break, 
let her adjust, let him adjust, but it was too much, she was 
too good, warm and wet, the need too great to do anything 
but thrust and thrust and thrust. 

He felt her shift and tremble under him, her beautiful voice 
crying out as she began to stroke herself deep between her 
legs. Dimly he remembered this was the kind of sound a 
woman made when she'd reached the point of full arousal. 
She was so small under him. He wanted to unfold her, touch 
her, kiss her, take her the rest of the way. It was time to 
take control over the maddening rush of pleasure in his groin 
and bring her to him, face to face. After a few more 
indulgent thrusts, he pulled out.

She was still tight within herself, curled around her own limbs 
like a newborn. Her eyes closed tight against escaping tears. 
"No..." she whimpered, still touching herself. "Not now, 
please I need...I can't..."

He leaned over her, brushing her hair with concern. 
"Hey, Scully, where are you?"

"Hmm...?" She stilled and her arms went limp at her sides. 
She lifted her head and began to unwind herself. Wiping 
the tears from her own face in surprise. "I'm sorry, I don't 
know...I forgot this..."

"Come here, lie down with me," he said, and took her in his 
arms, throwing a blanket over her hip. He kissed the top of 
her head and soothed her with gentle words. His hand rubbed 
her back, calming her. "You were disappearing on me. I want 
you with me. I want you to see me."

Her eyes were open now, hiding nothing. She looked almost a 
little embarrassed. "I'm sorry..."

"Shh, don't apologize." He kissed her forehead and pulled 
the blanket around the both of them, his fingertips working 
their way down her spine. She rested her cheek against his 
chest and let his strong fingers knead away her tension. "It's 
been so long," she explained, snuggled against him. "I'm not 
used to sharing it."

He smiled tenderly at her and touched her chin. "It's strange 
for me too, but in a wonderful way."

She lowered her eyes, drawing her tongue coyly over her upper 
lip. "I suppose I need to learn a little patience."

His silent chuckle rumbled under her as she lay against 
him, warming her chilled limbs. "You've been in a rush all 
night, since dinner."

Their meal seemed like it had taken place days ago. She 
smiled, "I guess I have."

He brought her lips to his and kissed them softly. "That's 
okay, there'll be plenty of occasions when rushing will be 
a necessity: lunch breaks, on the road, in elevators, the 
review board waiting room..."

She could see those heated fantasy moments playing so 
acutely in her mind. Mulder was turning out to be quite 
the storyteller--they'd have to take an evening just to let 
him tell her about a few of those "hundred ways." She smiled 
against his lips and kissed him slowly, letting her tongue slip 
against his, taking her time to get to know his feel and taste. 
He'd had his turn to play with her, now it was hers. 

Mulder lay still while she kissed his nose and chin, nibbled his 
neck, and draping herself over him, lowered her warm tongue 
to his nipples. From the sounds he was making, he seemed to 
appreciate this type of foreplay. She continued the light 
touches all the way down his chest and stomach to his cock, 
where she licked him briefly, tasting herself on his slick 
solid skin.

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

Mulder inched himself away from her seductive tongue to the 
head of the bed. He shoved a few pillows behind him, and 
motioned her to climb up on top of him. She came easily, 
willingly into his arms and they kissed slowly, eyes closed. 
He could feel her wetness on his cock and balls cooling in 
the air. He'd never known a woman to respond to him like 
this, to be so aroused. It made him want to try all that much 
more to please her. He wondered if she enjoyed the arousing 
flavor he tasted on her lips--of man and woman fused in sex. 
He broke their kiss to see how she was regarding him with a 
low burning hunger that made his head feel light. He wanted 
to make it so good for her, to watch her as he brought her to 
the brink.

"Let me taste you again," he roughly urged and she slithered 
up his chest until her thighs were spread over his face. Her 
fingertips eased her lips apart and his tongue was in her 
folds, licking her savagely, his lips closing over her clit, 
sucking until he heard her gasp. The smell of her was 
everywhere and he hadn't realized he had begun to become 
desensitized to it. He squeezed the lushness of her ass as he 
took his final wet tastes, trying to placate the impulse to 
devour her for a few more minutes longer. She was quivering 
over him, so close to bursting. As much as he ached to make 
her come this way, so intimate he could see it blooming, he 
knew he needed to be in her when she came apart. So with a 
heart of lead, he let her go.

She slipped back from his lips and settled herself down to 
the head of his cock. She closed her eyes, relaxed herself, and 
descended to the base. She sighed pleasantly at the new way 
he filled her, and ground herself onto him as he took his 
thumbs and spread her swollen folds.

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

"Look in the mirror." 

Scully looked up as she moved languidly over him, gratifyingly 
filled with him, catching the arched reflection of herself, her 
breasts jutting and her nipples taut. His thumb just brushed 
over her clit in a light even stroke and she closed her eyes. 
She felt an incredible dark gnawing pull in her abdomen 
that was flaring into something remarkable. His thumbs took 
turns teasing her clit, first with deliberation, and then a 
moment later with the barest of contact. His bereft touch 
left her pounding with need and turning her attention to 
the gathering sensations deep inside her pelvis. She had 
never come from just the feel of a man inside her, but she 
could tell his method was going to take her there very soon--
as long as they kept the movement nice and slow, under 
her guidance.

"Can you feel me? Can you feel what you do to me? 
I'm right here," he said, laying a warm hand across 
her abdomen. "Inside you right here."

Her movements became slower and she felt an overwhelming 
urge to arch further back and let his cock work against the 
far wall of her core. He responded by flexing his length so 
he nudged against her inner trembling flesh just right. 

"You should feel it here," he said, drawing a light circle 
around her abdomen with his fingertips. "And here..." She gasped 
as his middle finger trailed down her spine to her tailbone.

She leaned back again, watching their reflections move against 
each other in the mirror. She could see his forced concentration 
and her serene expression as her climax began flashing through 
her in gentle waves, an orgasm that wasn't centered fast and 
narrow in her clitoris, but ran freely the length of her body. 
He wasn't touching her sex at all, his thumbs had moved to 
her nipples. He was just barely moving his hips, lengthening 
the duration of those light light waves. The seabirds were 
coming in to land, their wings fluttering. She was falling 
apart, and it was perfect, so easy, so right. Her mouth opened 
and she began to sigh his name softly over and over as the 
warm tenderness of climax enveloped her and began to 
flood her in a sustained ravishment that didn't seem to end.

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

Mulder knew it was all going to end soon and he almost 
couldn't bear that. Not even if he could have her again and 
again every night for the rest of his life. This was everything--
these floating seconds of realization that he had brought her 
to this. That his hands and mouth and cock had brought this 
sophisticated and reserved woman to this state of shameless 
abandonment. 

Watching her move over him, watching her face painted in 
ecstasy as she came--instead of bringing him over, it made 
him want to cry, brokenly at length until he had purged 
himself of every minute of loneliness he had endured in his 
life. And she was calling to him, crying out to him sotto voce, 
and the words she said all meant him, him, him.

He waited for her to come back to herself. She flopped 
unsteadily forward, touching her hand to her lips in surprise. 
She yipped in hyper sensation as he gathered her up into 
his arms, still joined. He held her close, sitting up, as she 
sighed and shuddered and wrapped her legs around his hips. 
She hadn't nearly recovered yet, but he couldn't stop himself 
from the need to be in her. His mouth descended over hers, 
penetrating those lips that had said all those pretty things.

She was touching his face as they kissed, drawing her fingers 
tenderly through his hair. His arms held her hips to his groin 
as he bucked up into her over and over, pressing her soft 
rounded breasts to him, needing even more of her. The feeling 
was killing him with sweetness; he couldn't stand it anymore. 
It almost hurt like all those years ago when he first learned 
how desperately he wanted her and thought he could never 
have her, not like this. His cock was throbbing, insistent; 
he couldn't get enough. Maybe he'd waited too long. 

He groaned in frustration and pitched them back against 
the bed. On top again, he filled her--thrusting without finesse 
or accuracy--need outweighing grace as he struggled to 
release the powerful tension gripping him.

"You feel so good," she whispered, her fingers touching the 
damp hair at his temple. "Don't rush for me."

"I can't," he mumbled. "Sometimes I..."

"Shhh, look at me--"

He opened his eyes, and beyond the veil of his own exertion, 
saw her smiling serenely up at him. So pleased with him, happy. 
For the first time, since the first day they met, she seemed 
completely happy with him.

"Scully..." He slowed and touched her cheek. He needed to 
hear her say it, to tell him just once. Just this one time and 
then he'd never ask her again about what she showed him a 
hundred times a day in so many subtle ways.

Her eyes closed and opened soft and blue. She nodded her 
head, kissing his cheek. "I do, Mulder. So much. So much."

The shackles that had been holding his climax in a vice 
melted and fell away and he took her hard and fast, 
watching her eyes go wide with his sudden velocity. Her 
legs wrapped tightly around him, her hands pressing against 
his ass, whimpering, begging for more. He gave her more, 
feeling that incredible rush in his balls rise and fill, flooding 
through him to spill over the end of his cock, buried hot and 
deep in her, kissing her, drowning the wordless sounds of his 
pleasure and relief in her, as his body convulsed, opening the 
spillway to her, filling her with warmth and acceptance.

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

Mulder couldn't move. An amazingly pleasant sensation of heat 
and tingles and mind-numbing hormones had arrested his 
consciousness. He felt unfuckingbelieveably wonderful--
desired, loved, and completely, utterly sated. Even breathing 
felt unbearably pleasurable. He could barely hold his eyes open.

Euphoria--that was the name of this feeling. It had been so 
long since he had achieved this light state. And there was 
another word that went with it, he surmised as his thumb 
brushed the soft skin over her navel--happiness. A very real 
and simple thing. Something not hard to define, but nearly 
impossible to achieve. There was truth in this.

"Mulder?" He was lying on his back, holding her against his side, 
the sheets and blankets tangled around them, while she traced 
his ribs with a fingertip.

"...hmm?"

"Why don't you wear the pinstripes anymore?"

"Pinstripes?"

"The suit. I was fond of that one."

His fingers found her spine and began to slowly stroke along it 
as she inhaled and exhaled against him. 

"Wow, I haven't pulled that one out since...my first informant. 
I thought stripes were an '80s thing."

"They're a damn sharp G-Man thing. I think you should 
reconsider."

"What made you think of...? Hold on. A certain recent house 
guest of mine wasn't nosing through my drawers and closets, 
was she?"

"Not necessarily. I was just...cleaning."

"Remind me to have you spend the night more often."

"I will. Preferably when you're home."

A wave of sleepy reflection kept them contentedly quiet for the 
next minute. Mulder continued to stroke her back, wondering 
fuzzily if enough minutes of proper "cuddling" had passed for 
him to stop fighting off the overpowering urge to snooze. He 
looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her cheek pressed to 
his chest rising and falling with his breath. It was probably okay, 
he reasoned, and let the disjointed hypnogogic images take him 
over.

"Are you falling asleep?"

He snapped conscious. She was looking up at him. "Yeah...sorry, 
I've unfortunately trained myself to do that. See why I wanted to 
hold off?"

"You're cute when you're sleepy. Go ahead, I'll watch you."

He closed his eyes and sleep waited only seconds to take him 
again.

He was dreaming about licking a creamy glob of tiramisu from 
her fingers when he felt something faintly caress his eyelashes. 
A tiny sweet breeze. He opened an eye. She was leaning over 
him, smiling, her lips just forming an "O."

"Scully..." he mumbled.

She smiled like an elf.

"You're blowing on me."

"I know. It's okay, Mulder. Go to sleep."

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

Holy shit! I'm DONE! I finished it.
Whoooooooooooo!

There's a nice romantic follow up to this
coming along in a few days....Atoll....<g>

Oy! Do I ever have a crick in my neck.
Send a masseuse, preferably a Swedish-trained 
Mulder-clone, to: Terma99@aol.com.

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