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“You know, if you ever wanted to be with someone else, I’d be okay with it.”
She shifts her body abruptly, moving from her side to her back so she can see his face. The blissed-out haze of her post-sex afterglow fades, and she regards him with alarm and confusion.
“What are you talking about?” she asks sharply.
They’d just been spooning, his cock sliding along the front wall of her pussy and his fingers swirling around her clit while she told him about the first time she’d ever had anal sex. He’d begged her for every sordid detail: how big was Daniel’s cock? Did he play with her ass first to warm her up? Did it hurt? Did she come? Six or seven times now they’ve done this, and she’s become more and more secure in the fact that he’s not asking her to hurt him. She’s never felt his dick get as hard as it does when she’s telling him about her prior conquests; the more she enjoyed the encounter, the more he enjoys hearing about it.
“I don’t mean a relationship,” he clarifies, putting his hand on her hip and tugging her closer. “I just mean sex.”
Her eyebrows furrow even deeper, a look of incredulity on her face.
“I don’t want to have sex with other people, Mulder,” she says plainly, and he sighs, pondering. Her heart stutters and starts to pound, and she suddenly feels like she’s been led to this very moment for reasons that make her feel sick. “Do you want to have sex with other people?” she asks, afraid of the answer but knowing that she can’t continue on without it.
His face falls and he says, “No,” so emphatically it almost sounds like he’s shouting. “Not at all. It didn’t even cross my mind that you might take it that way, I’m sorry,” he says, brushing his thumb over her hip bone with a pained look on his face.
“Then why would you say that?” she asks, softening. “I’m very satisfied with our sex life, if that’s something you worry about,” she offers.
“No, I don’t worry about that,” he says with a smirk, though it quickly fades. “It’s actually—it’s very selfish, and I probably shouldn’t even have brought it up.”
“What’s selfish? I feel like you’re talking in circles around something,” she says gently, scraping her fingernails over his forearm.
“You, with someone else—” he starts, then pauses and drags his bottom lip between his teeth. “Not just in the past, Scully. The idea of that now …fuck. I might get hard again just thinking about it.”
Something between fear and disgust churns in her belly.
“You want me to cheat on you?” she asks, a bit more judgment in her voice than she intended.
Mulder meets her eye and holds it, stoic and vulnerable.
“It’s not cheating if I know about it. If I want you to do it,” he says levelly.
She feels a fight or flight response kicking in. She wants to tell him no, tell him that it’s insane and offensive. He wants to lend her out like a library book? Like a whore? But she knows him, knows his heart and how deeply protective of her he is. The two ideas are so in conflict with one another that curiosity wins out.
“Why would you want that?” she asks, rolling to her side to face him.
“It’s hard to explain,” he tells her, draping his arm over her waist.
She snuggles closer to him, tucking her head under his chin so he won’t have to look at her while he talks. Their physical closeness makes it feel less threatening: regardless of what he says about these fantasies of his, he is right here, with her, in the safety of their bed.
“Try me,” she says lightly, giving him a squeeze.
“You’re so incredible,” he says, trailing his fingers over her bare back. “You’re so beautiful, and smart, and sexy.”
“Go on,” she says wryly, smiling against his skin.
“And you’re mine, which still feels a bit miraculous, to be honest.” She waits while he works out the next part, letting the warmth of his compliments wash over her. “This is going to sound like I think of you as a possession, which I don’t, but I guess it’s kind of like if I had a really, really nice car.”
“Okay….” she says in a warning tone.
“I know,” he tells her, “bear with me. Say I had a Bugatti, which is arguably the nicest, most expensive car you can buy. I might enjoy letting other people drive it, knowing that at the end of the day, it’s mine. I might get pleasure from seeing how much other people enjoy driving it, because I’m proud of it. Fuck, this sounds awful, doesn’t it?”
“I can’t say that I enjoy being compared to a car,” she agrees.
“I don’t think of you that way, Scully, I think you know that. It’s just the only way I can explain it. I love seeing you enjoying sex, and I guess I enjoy that even if the sex isn’t with me. If you want me to drop this and never mention it again, I will. I just—I’ve been thinking about it for a long time and I wanted to tell you. And I have, so I guess that’s it.”
They are quiet for a very, very long time. Scully thinks about the nature of monogamy, the agreement between two parties that they will only engage in emotional and sexual intimacy with each other. That agreement doesn’t mean that you don’t experience sexual attraction or even desire for other people, just that you don’t act on it. She tries to let herself imagine a situation in which having sex with someone else would not only be permissible, but welcome. Immediately, she feels a twist of guilt.
“Thank you for telling me,” she says, breaking the pin-drop quiet of the room.
She’s given him his answer. He doesn’t ask about it again.
She steps through the door of the unremarkable house feeling excited and afraid. It’s been months since they discussed it, and though she’s continued to indulge him in lurid conversations while they fuck, he’s never asked again about bringing his fantasy to life. He likely has no idea that she thinks about it regularly, has played it out in her head hundreds of times, that the sick, guilty feelings have subsided into something curious.
He likely has no idea that she’s indulged in some harmless flirting, a practice that typically falls outside the bounds of what she considers appropriate behavior for a woman in a committed relationship. He likely has no idea that she’s closed her eyes while he was inside her and imagined that he was someone else, and that the real Mulder was in the next room, listening.
After a good meal, a hot bath, and a few glasses of wine, they sit on either end of the couch, their legs stretched out side by side. The nervous flutter in her belly is dulled by alcohol, but it still takes every ounce of courage in her body to say the words out loud. She realizes now how much courage it took for him to bring it up in the first place, and is retroactively proud that he did.
“I met someone at work,” she says casually, swirling her glass and watching the legs of the wine slide down slowly.
“Oh yeah?” he asks, picking up her foot and squeezing it. “New doctor?”
“No,” she corrects him, “a nurse. A traveling nurse, actually. He’s on a sixteen week contract.”
Mulder’s hands still briefly, but he quickly starts up again.
“He?” he clarifies, and she nods, not looking at his face. “What’s his name?”
“Bradley,” she supplies, her voice catching.
“What does he look like?”
Scully licks her lips, bringing forth the image of Bradley in her mind. Slightly taller than Mulder, mid-thirties, dirty blond hair and a square jaw. Warm brown eyes and a broad smile. Tight little ass, firm body under his form-fitting scrubs.
“Tall. Blond,” she says flatly, and she can feel him smirking.
“You find him attractive?” he asks, his thumb pressing firmly into the arch of her foot.
She flicks her eyes up to his face and finds a dark, lustful look in his eyes. It’s a look she knows well.
“Yes,” she says quietly.
Mulder hums, setting her foot in his lap while he works the ball of it. She feels the bulge of his erection against her heel, and a spark of arousal lights up in her cunt.
“What would you want me to do with him?” she asks. This is his game, after all. She needs him to make the rules.
He considers her for a moment, gauging her interest in this. She drains her wine glass and sets it on the coffee table, then drapes the leg of the foot that is not in his lap off the side of the couch. She holds his eye, lips slightly parted. She invites him to indulge.
“Well, you’d have to start with kissing. Touching,” he says, watching her face. “Can’t rush right to the main event.”
“Uh huh,” she encourages him, resting one hand on her belly.
“But, um…I think I’d probably want you to suck his dick, if you’d be okay with that. You’re so fucking good at it.”
The mix of emotions and sensations in her body is disorienting. Her cunt is watering, she can feel that without touching it. But the idea of doing that with someone else sets off alarm bells. Betrayal. Irreparable harm. Infidelity.
“You’d want me to do that?” she asks, slipping her fingers under the waist of her pants. Mulder nods, rubbing her foot against his erection. “And then what?”
“Maybe he’d eat your pussy, if he’s any good at it. Does he seem like he’d be good at it?”
She pictures Bradley leaning over the reception desk, leering at her around a computer monitor. She hears the deferential way he calls her Dr. Scully and never Dana like the rest of the nursing staff. He reminds her of Mulder, in a way.
“Yes,” she answers, and he hums.
“I’d want you to fuck him, but how is up to you. I’d want you to enjoy yourself,” he says. He drops his eyes to her stomach, to her wandering hand. He lifts his eyebrows in encouragement, and she slips it under her pants and then her panties, settling over the syrupy slit of her cunt. “Tell me,” he requests.
“I think,” she begins, her middle finger exploring, “that I’d want to be on top.”
Mulder nods, reaching into his sweat pants and pulling his erection free. He doesn’t touch it, just lets it rest against his belly impatiently.
“I love the way your tits bounce when you’re on top,” he says, his eyes on her crotch, on the movement of her hand under cotton. “You look amazing when you’re fucking me like that. I bet he’d like that.”
A swell of arousal, a throb in her clit. She stands abruptly, stripping off her pants and underwear. Mulder shoves his sweats down to his knees and shifts so he’s sitting face-forward on the middle cushion. In a matter of seconds, she’s sunk down on his cock and begins fucking him in earnest. He pulls off her sweater and cups her breasts in his hands, delivering wet kisses to each of her nipples before he sits back and watches them bounce inches from his face.
“You’d want me to do this with him?” she asks, breathless, and he nods vigorously.
“You feel so good. He’d fucking love it,” he says tightly, his hips popping up to try and get deeper, though every inch of him is inside her.
“Oh my god, I’m gonna come,” she whimpers, surprised that it’s happening so fast.
“Yes, I want you to come. I want you to feel good.” His hands are on her hips, slamming her down against him forcefully. “Would you let him come inside you?”
She’s already gone, crumpling against him as waves of release course through her. Mulder grunts, lifting her ass up with both hands and fucking her from his inferior position. He groans and she feels him swell inside her, then the wet slick of both of their orgasms pooling around the base of his cock.
She lays her head on his shoulder, and his arms wrap around her back. They relish in it for minutes, until finally she sits up and gives him a quizzical look.
“You would want someone else to ejaculate inside me?” she asks, and his mouth quirks at her use of a medically accurate term, something he’s worked hard to break her of.
“That would be your choice, of course. It’s your body, it would be your risk to take. I’d never ask you to do that,” he says, brushing her hair behind her shoulders.
“But you’d like it?” she counters, and he shrugs noncommittally. She infers that the answer is yes.
“Sixteen week contract, then he’s gone?” Mulder asks, and she feels a flood of heat to her cheeks.
“Yes. But that doesn’t mean—”
“I know,” he interrupts. “I’d never pressure you. You mentioned it, so I asked.”
“Okay,” she says, a smile creeping onto her mouth.
They haven’t done anything other than talk, but already it feels incredibly transgressive and naughty. Things she knows herself to be drawn to.
“You’re my girl,” he says, a question and a statement.
She leans forward, kissing him once, twice, three times.
“Always.”