By:  mimic117
mimic117@yahoo.com
 

Rating:  NC-17 all the way

Keywords:  Established MSR

Spoilers:  Let's assume that Seasons 8 & 9 never happened
and that this story takes place a number of years after Season
7.  Five years after should do it.  By that point, I figure
they'd at least be living together but still working at the
Bureau.

Summary:  No one ever warned him about women over forty.

Dedication:  To every woman over forty but especially to
Donnilee, who isn't *quite* there yet.  Just a little peek at
what's ahead.  Happy Birthday, dear.

Beta thanks:  To my untiring Twinsy, for her constant
dedication to making me a better writer in spite of myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Magic Number
by mimic117
 

Mulder fell back onto the mattress, winded and sweaty, shaking
in every limb.  Scully continued to ride him, panting and
grinding down onto his groin.  He groaned as her inner muscles
squeezed his softening penis while she fingered her clit,
reaching for that last pinnacle of pleasure.

She was trying to kill him with sex.  He just knew it.  Not a bad
way to go, but he wasn't quite ready to check out yet.  They'd
been together, romantically speaking, for five years, over three
of those years living in their own apartment.  They'd been the
best years of his life and he really didn't want to miss the next
five, but he was going to have a heart attack or die of
exhaustion if she kept up this pace.

Death by orgasm.  Wouldn't *that* look spiffy on his autopsy
report?

It wasn't that he disliked sex.  Quite the contrary, in fact.  He
was just finding it hard to keep up with Scully lately.

Take earlier in the day, for instance.  All he did was nuzzle the
side of her neck, and the next thing he knew, she'd stripped
him stark as a jay bird and dragged him on top of her.  Right in
the middle of the living room floor!

She was like a wild animal, moaning and writhing on the carpet
as he tried to get into position between her legs.  She'd
actually snarled at him to hurry up!

Talk about performance pressure.

Then, once he was finally inside her, she bucked and humped
like she was competing against the Guinness record for
quickest sex act.  He couldn't seem to move fast enough for
her.  At least he made her come.  He wasn't sure he'd be able
to, considering how insatiable she'd been recently.

Like last night.

He'd been a little later than usual, but not all *that* late.
When he let himself in, the lights were off and she was nowhere
in sight.

"Hey, Scully.  Where are you?" he called.

The door swung shut behind him.  "Right here."  Her voice
came from over his shoulder, low, raspy.  It made his scalp
tingle.

When he turned, he saw that she was naked.  As she moved
nearer, he could actually smell her desire.

Everything sped up at that point and he didn't remember a lot
of it clearly.  He did remember thinking that it's not easy to
kneel on the arm of a sofa and obtain enough leverage to fuck
at the same time.

They weren't making love anymore, they were fucking.  The
faster and harder the better, as far as Scully was concerned.
On the floor, on the table, under the table, on the couch -- they
hadn't done it in the apartment building elevator yet, but Mulder
had a feeling it was only a question of time.

He was tempted to find a copy of the Kama Sutra and see if
there were any positions they'd missed.  Missionary, doggie-
style, standing, sitting, her on top, him on top, it didn't
matter.  Scully seemed to enjoy whatever they did, judging by
the way she cried out when she came.

He liked it, too, but last night had been hell on his knees.
They were still hurting.

It wasn't the sex that concerned him so much as the frequency
and level of enthusiasm.  They'd had fast, hard sex three times
in the last twenty-four hours, not to mention once a day for the
past few months.  Minimum.

She was definitely trying to kill him.

Scully flopped down onto his chest and he slipped out of her.
She sighed.  He would have sighed as well but he was too
tired.  He smiled as she littered his chest with kisses.

She bit his nipple and he jumped.

"Jesus!" he yelped.  "Give me a few minutes, woman.  I'm not
as young as I used to be and I'm getting older by the second."

She pushed herself up on his chest until he could look into her
eyes.  She was smirking.  "Can't dish it out like you used to,
huh?"

He pinched her ass.  "I can dish it out just fine but I could
use a little time to cook up something new between helpings.
What's gotten into you?"

"What do you mean?"  She looked puzzled.

Didn't she realize how she'd been behaving?

"I *mean*," he replied, "your gargantuan appetite for sex.  Has
someone been putting Spanish Fly in the coffee machines?"

She scowled.  "Are you saying that you don't want sex?"

"NO!  I'm not saying anything of the sort.  I'm just wondering
why, after years of living together, you suddenly can't get
enough of me.  I'm flattered, but confused.  What do I have now
that I didn't have then?"

Her scowl disappeared but she still looked peeved.  "It's
probably hormonal.  I *am* over forty now."

"Is that the magic number?  You turn forty and someone flips
the nookie switch?"

"Am I coercing you?"

"No, but -- "

"Are you not interested?"

"No, but -- "

"Don't you enjoy it?"

"Yes, but -- "

The scowl was back.  "I don't know what you're complaining
about, Mulder.  You can refuse if you don't want sex.  Don't feel
obligated just because I'm horny."  Her voice sounded hurt, and
he honestly couldn't blame her.  He hadn't handled it well at all
and now he couldn't think of anything to say.

She rolled off of him and stalked to the bathroom.  As a general
rule, he loved watching her naked ass twitch and jiggle as she
moved away.  At the moment, though, her cheeks looked hard
and unyielding; they didn't jiggle at all as she stomped off.

Even her ass was annoyed with him.

It wasn't that he didn't like having sex.  How could he NOT love
sex, any kind of sex, with Scully?  He just needed more than a
couple of hours to recover before hitting the sheets again.
After all, HE was over forty, too.  He hadn't done a very good
job of explaining himself, but Mulder wasn't sure he understood
what he meant to say either.

The next day at work, Mulder was too preoccupied to get
anything done, which gave him plenty of time to think, but that
was okay -- Scully wasn't speaking to him unless she
absolutely had to anyway.  There'd been no before-work sex.
Barely a good morning kiss.  Apparently she hadn't appreciated
his questions, but he'd really wanted to know.  He kept trying to
imagine what else he could have said other than "slow down."

He sat up straight and looked over at Scully, her lips pursed
into an angry line, silently pounding on her keyboard.

Was that it?  Did they simply need to slow down?

An idea tickled at the edges of his brain and he checked his
watch.  Not quite two.  He could do it if he left right away.
She probably wouldn't mind being relieved of his presence for a
while and he could use a breather from the frostier-than-usual
office atmosphere.

He clearer his throat.  Loudly.  Scully's shoulders twitched, as
if she wanted to turn and look at him, but she didn't move.

"I have to leave for a bit," he said casually.  "You take the car
and I'll meet you at home.  Okay?"

She shrugged.  "Sure.  Fine."

Boy, she really *was* mad.  She'd forgotten "whatever."

Mulder gathered up his briefcase and coat.  He wanted to kiss
her good-bye but that might be dangerous considering her
present mood.  Instead, he murmured a farewell and went out
to find a cab.  He had a couple stops to make before he
headed home.

He asked the cabby to pull over at the first florist he saw.
Mulder wasn't a big flowers guy, which suited Scully just fine.
She would rather have a nice houseplant because they didn't
die after a few days.  But when you were as deep in dog shit as
he was at the moment, cut flowers were a must.  Just a few.
Nothing too ostentatious or pricey.  He didn't need her getting
on his case about being extravagant.

Inside the shop, a bunch of mixed flowers caught his eye.  Very
colorful.  She'd like those.  Now where could he find some
good-quality chocolates?

The cab driver proved to be a fount of information, but most of
his suggestions were in the opposite direction from the
apartment.  What a surprise.  They finally settled on a gift store
that sold Godiva and Mulder bought half a dozen chocolate
enrobed strawberries.  They were completely covered instead
of dipped at one end.  He thought that would be unusual
enough to appeal to Scully without getting her started on the fat
and calories.

The gift shop also sold massage oils.

By the time he made it home, he had just enough time to
shower, call in a carry-out order to an Italian restaurant, change
the bed sheets to her favorite set and stick a bottle of wine in
the fridge to chill.  The flowers were in a vase on her
nightstand, next to the plate of chocolate strawberries, when he
heard her key rattle in the lock.

He checked the time.  Not quite five.  She'd skipped out early,
too.

The scowl was gone, thank goodness, but she looked a bit
wary as she took in his clean dress shirt and slacks.

"Are we going somewhere?" she asked.

"*I'm* going to pick up dinner," Mulder replied as he grabbed
his keys.  "You're going to relax and get comfortable."  He
pecked a quick kiss on her lips in passing.  "I'll be right back."

The door closed behind him and he smiled as he walked to the
elevator.  Let her think about that until he returned.

The shower was running when he got back.  Good.  Hopefully
that would take the edge off her annoyance.  They hadn't been
together very long before he'd learned that it was best to give
Scully some space when he pissed her off.  Hanging around
and trying to work things out just made it worse.  That particular
discovery had saved him many an ass-chewing over the years.

He served the veal parmegiana, salad and garlic bread onto
plates and took them out to the table.  By the time he'd
uncorked the wine and grabbed two glasses, Scully was sitting
in her chair, waiting.

She'd matched his casually-dressy look with a soft sweater and
slacks.  Her hair wasn't curly, but it waved a bit, the way it did
when she didn't bother to straighten it.

She took the glass of wine he handed her.  "So what's up,
Mulder?"  Her eyes glinted at him over the rim as she took a
sip.

Apparently the cooling off period had worked.  She sounded
more normal, if a bit curious.

"Dinner.  Wine.  Conversation.  Maybe watch a movie
afterward.  That's all."  He took a sip from his own glass,
wondering if he'd been *too* nonchalant.

She didn't call him on it.  Instead, they talked.  About work,
family, things they'd seen on the news, Bureau rumors and
scandals -- everything except what happened the night before.

It was nice.  They'd been in such a hurry about everything
lately.  They were overdue for a slow, leisurely evening.
Mulder found himself smiling more than usual, appreciating
anew the sharpness of her mind and wit.  When was the last
time he'd really sat back and simply enjoyed being with her?

Far too long, if the tingling in his groin was any indication.
Not that that was anything new, but it had been a while since
he'd felt the pleasant anticipation of the evening ahead.  He'd
been more reactive than proactive in recent months.  He didn't
have much choice when Scully was jumping his bones without any
advance warning.

Tonight he'd be the proactive one.  And they wouldn't be gettin'
funky on the living room floor, either.

After the dishes were washed and stacked, the wine was
moved to the living room for a more elegant video experience.
He'd deliberately picked a Grade B sci-fi movie so she would
have the pleasure of tearing apart the specious science
presented.  She was in top form -- MST3K had nothing on
Scully when it came to lampooning pseudo-scientific jargon.

The movie ended well before bedtime, but sleep wasn't
included in Mulder's plans.  Yet.  When Scully raised her
eyebrow, he stood and offered his hand.

"Dessert awaits in the bedroom, madam."

She graciously accepted his hand with an I-have-to-see-this
expression and followed him into their room.  She looked
around for a moment.  "Thanks for the flowers and candy,
Mulder.  So what's for dessert?"

He smiled.  "You."  Grabbing the bottom of her sweater, he
said, "Arms up, please."

The expression on her face was a classic "Mulder, you're
crazy" look but she did as he asked.  He removed her clothes
and laid her back onto the pillows, then popped a chocolate
covered strawberry into her mouth.  Her eyes went wide as he
saw her bite down.

"It's liquid!" she murmured around the sweet.  "Did you know
that?"

He shook his head.  "I just thought they would be different.
Do you like it?"

She nodded, then scootched back into the pillows and watched
him undress.  "This is my favorite part," she said, reaching for
another chocolate.

"What part?"  He stripped off his pants and boxers in one
swipe.

She leered.  "The sex part."

Mulder opened his nightstand drawer and took out the
massage oil.  "Did I say anything about sex?"  He waggled the
bottle at her.  "Time for dessert."

She stared pointedly at his half-hard penis.  "JUST dessert?"

He crawled onto the bed and made a "roll over" motion with his
finger.  "That's not on the menu yet.  All the best chefs say
that you shouldn't rush your courses."

Scully popped another chocolate into her mouth, flipped over
onto her stomach and mumbled, "These are really good,
Mulder.  You should try one."

He unsnapped the lid on the massage oil.  "You enjoy those,
Scully.  I've got a whole buffet laid out in front of me."

The bed jounced as she chuckled.  Mulder straddled her thighs,
poured a little oil into his palm, then set the bottle aside and
went to work.

He loved to touch her skin.  She always felt so soft and smooth,
he almost hated to rub his scratchier hands against her.
Judging by the way she was humming, she didn't seem to
mind.  It had been a long time since they're simply touched
each other for the hell of it.

Mulder took his time.  He started at her neck, worked across
her shoulders and then down her back.  It sounded like every
vertebrae popped when he pressed against her spine.

She sighed and wiggled.  "Did you grow a third hand or are you
just happy to see me?"

He glanced down at his erect cock, bobbing against her ass.
She could usually get him hard with nothing more than a look.
It was no wonder he was already saluting.  He had her bare
flesh at his mercy.

He massaged oil onto her cheeks and rubbed his penis in the
crease.  "That's a very special *deep* massage tool, reserved
for only my very best clients."

She moved her hips up and down, increasing the friction.  "Am
I one of your best clients?"

He patted her ass.  "You're my *only* client.  Now hold still or
I won't let you find out how my special tool works."

She stopped moving.  Mulder worked his way down her legs,
kneading the taut muscles from thighs to heels, then rubbing
firmly over the bottoms of her feet to avoid tickling.

A reflex-kick in the nuts would put a major damper on the rest
of his plans for the evening.

Each toe was lovingly fondled to the accompaniment of her
moans and sighs.  He moved back up her legs, concentrating
on her inner thighs, using the head of his cock to barely skim
the moist cleft between them.  When she moved to open her
thighs, he squeezed his knees together, locking her legs in
place.

"Uh uh," he admonished.  "Turn over."

He eased up enough so she was able to rotate between his
knees.  Her nipples were hard and the gleam in her eyes
clearly said that she'd have knocked him flat on the bed and
screwed his brains out any other day.  His cock appeared to
bow in acknowledgement of her will power.

Since he already knew where she wanted him to touch her,
Mulder started at her feet just to prolong the anticipation.  He
found it more difficult to go slowly with her smoldering gaze
locked on his penis.  His cock seemed to have a mind of its
own, waving about, pleased by all the attention, while he
worked the muscles in her legs.

She kept licking her lips, which was very distracting.

He bypassed her crotch and moved to her arms instead.  That
way he could straddle her hips as he massaged her biceps and
still rub his balls against her curls while his penis left
doodles of pre-ejaculate on her stomach.

Obviously, Scully wasn't the only one getting turned on.  The
oil on his hands made her skin feel unbelievably soft.

He took his time with her breasts, spending several minutes
rubbing his fingers all over the rounded slopes, the undersides,
across the tops -- everywhere except her nipples.

If her fisted hands were any indication, it was making her crazy.
He was finding it hard to keep his hands off them, too, but the
look on her face was worth the sacrifice.

He scooted backward, trailing his fingers down her stomach,
straight to the neglected patch of curls in the vee of her thighs.
Even with his knees keeping her legs together, he could see
the hood of her clitoris peeking through the hair, swollen and
aching for his touch.

He reached for the oil bottle, then changed his mind.  Instead,
he took one of the strawberries from the plate, placed it
between his teeth so she could see what he was doing, then
leaned over her clit and bit into the chocolate.

Sticky juice dribbled from the shattered confection before he
sucked the bits into his mouth.  The droplets shimmered as
they dripped onto her engorged flesh, the contact of each one
causing her to jump.  He bent down and fastened his lips over
her clit, sucking the sweet liquid from her sensitized skin,
adding her essence to the taste of strawberries and chocolate
already in his mouth.

Damn, what a flavor.

Scully writhed under his enthusiastic attentions as she gave
voice to her pleasure.  He flicked his tongue over the last
specks of syrup, then rolled her onto her side and spooned up
behind her.

She immediately threw one leg over his hip in open invitation.
A hot wave of her scent hit him full force.  It took all his
control not to ram into her softness and rut like a stag until
he exploded.  They'd started out slow and that's how they'd end
the night -- slow, sensual, making love instead of fucking
themselves limp.

Even if it killed him, which it very well might.

He positioned her ass in his lap and stroked his aching cock
between her legs.  She was ready for him, slicking moisture
onto his rigid flesh with every pass over her swollen lips.  He
captured her hips with his hands and steadied her as his penis
nudged into her opening.  Scully pushed back, assisting his
entry into her body.

They both gasped as he slid all the way in.  Mulder always
loved the first sensations of being inside her, completely
enclosed within the woman he loved -- tight, wet, clasped firmly
in the love she returned to him in more ways than this.

He set a languid pace, gently thrusting and withdrawing as he
ran his hands over her breasts, whispered in her ear, rubbed
her clit.  She matched his rhythm, reaching behind her to stroke
his flanks, caress his face.

This was what had been missing.  Hard, frantic sex was all well
and good, but nothing came close to the sweetness of making
love with Scully.

Unfortunately, Mulder could already feel his orgasm
approaching.  "How do you like dessert, Scully?" he huffed into
her ear.  "You ready for the aperitif now?"

"Oh yeah," she moaned.  "I'm feeling rather stuffed but I think I
have room for a bit more."

He chuffed a laugh into her hair as he pinched her nipple with
one hand and pressed the hard knot between her legs with the
other.  She stiffened and shook in his arms, high-pitched,
inarticulate cries of ecstasy keeping time with the pulsing of her
walls around his hardness.  Her pleasure set off his own -- not
in a white-hot explosion of release, but more like the dashing of
a wave against a sandy beach which then curls in on itself
before running up on the shore again.

It was the most satisfying, intensely loving orgasm he'd had in
months.  There was a lot to be said in favor of making time for
foreplay.

Mulder nuzzled Scully's neck and gathered her close as she
reached around to rub her hand over his hip.  "So what was
that all about?" she asked.

"What was what all about?"  He smirked when she lightly
slapped his ass.

"You know very well what I mean.  Dinner.  Massage.  Flowers
and chocolates?  What's the occasion, Mulder?"

"No special occasion."  She turned her head to look over her
shoulder and he kissed her nose.  "No, really.  I thought it might
be nice to have a slow, intimate evening for a change.  That's
all."

"This is about last night."

Quick on the uptake as always.  That was his Scully.  "Maybe.
Did you enjoy yourself?"

She chuckled.  "I get it, Mulder.  Slow and sexy can be
satisfying, too.  I've never doubted that, you know."

He picked up her hand and kissed each finger before
answering.  "I know.  I was just trying to slow things down so
this old man could catch his breath.  That's all."

"You will *never* be old, Mulder.  Trust me."  Lips puckered,
she leaned back to kiss him and he met her halfway.  There
was no feeling of urgency as their lips pressed together, only a
warm familiarity that he'd come to cherish.

"So," he said once she'd settled back against his chest, "about
your recent insatiable need for sex ... "

She snuggled into his embrace, obviously preparing to drop off
to sleep.  "It's hormonal."

"But what does that mean?  And why now?"

"Oh."  She glanced over her shoulder again.  "Well, it means
that my hormone levels are changing.  It's called peri-
menopause and it affects some women starting in their late
thirties or early forties.  Hormone balances shift, moods alter,
sex drive kicks into high gear.  I turned forty last year.  I
guess that's my magic number."

"So how come I've never heard about this before?"

"You've never heard of a midlife crisis?"

"I thought only men have those."

Scully snorted.  "What do you think sets them off?  Trophy wife,
fast car, change of lifestyle -- if that's not a hormone
imbalance, I don't know what is."

Mulder pondered that a moment while he nibbled on her
shoulder to keep her awake.  "And that's what led to me being
screwed half to death last night and yesterday morning and the
night before that, etcetera etcetera?"

"Uh huh."  She was fading fast but he still needed to know
something.

"So how long is this hormone tear likely to last?"

She yawned.  "A few years maybe, until I hit menopause.
Think you can stand it?"

"I'll start taking vitamins tomorrow."

He felt her chuckle vibrate her back.  "Better make those extra-
strength vitamins.  I've got lots of plans for you."

Mulder smiled and closed his eyes.  Yeah, he'd definitely have
to slow her down from time to time.  It wasn't that he disliked
wham-bam sex, but he didn't want to wear himself out and miss
the next five years with Scully.  Or the five after that.  Or
the five after that...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE END

Feedback:  mimic117@yahoo.com

Homepage:  http://www.mimicsmusings.com
 
 
 
 

_____________________