From Every Angle

by OKayVal

Title: From Every Angle
Author: OKayVal
Author Email:
Website: Rating: NC-17
Category: Story, Romance, PWP!
Archive: Honored; just tell me where.
Pairings: Mulder/Scully
Spoilers: None
Summary: Mulder can't wait, as usual... Fourth story in the "Ramp" series.

Disclaimer: Not mine, you know the drill. There's an item in the story which is also not mine, but it does exist; it's trademarked and I have no intention of profiting from it nor duplicating it.

Perpetual thanks to Haven for the thread that helped inspire this series of smut, and to everyone who's encouraged me to write more of it. Buckets of thanks to Tali for her usual magic and for requesting SexPig!Mulder; and a bow to mimic117 for letting me borrow him.

"With her killer graces and her secret places That no boy can fill
With her hands on her hips
Oh, and that smile on her lips
Because she knows that it kills me...
...With her long hair falling
And her eyes that shine like a midnight sun She's the one..."

--Bruce Springsteen, "She's the One"--

She's trying to kill me.

She must be. Why else did she wear -that- skirt today? The one that's a bit shorter than the others, the one which hugs her ass just a bit tighter. God, I'd missed her ass. I had missed all of her.

I haven't seen her since Thursday, when she left for some family shindig in San Diego. We spoke on the phone every day, but she was always within earshot of a family member, so our conversations were brief and never reached the level of intimacy commonly referred to as 'phone sex'. I spent the weekend holed up in my apartment, miserable and restless, counting the minutes until her return.

And when she returned, I should have been at the airport to meet her. Instead, she accepted a ride home with a cousin who had taken the same flight. Her cousin insisted, Scully was too tired to argue, and I was too wary of stepping on any more Scully family toes. That's also why I didn't go to San Diego. She invited me, but I decided it would be better for both of us if I stayed home. I could steer clear of her brother's disdain for me and thus my presence wouldn't ruin Scully's weekend with her family. I'm sure it was the right decision for Scully's sake, but it turned out to be a pretty gallant sacrifice on my part. I don't think I will be making that sacrifice again. Next time, I am going with her and we will face her family somehow.

Now, just when I think that her return home will put an end to my misery, she struts into the office wearing that fucking skirt. And I can't touch her right now. She has this rule against making out at work that I am supposed to follow. She knows I don't do well with rules. It's hard enough to toe the line most days, but today it's going to be fucking torture. She saunters into the office and up to my desk, where she leans over and purrs "Hi, Mulder" in a voice that makes my skin tingle. She allows me a brief hello kiss but pulls away when my tongue nudges against her lips, seeking entry.

"Easy, Mulder. We have that meeting in ten minutes."

Exactly. I can only steal ten more minutes alone with her before we have to be at some useless meeting. Why can't she indulge me? Didn't she miss me? I attempt to sneak a feel of her ass, but she's already on her way to the coffee machine before I can grab a good handful. She seems completely unruffled by our time apart as she pours her coffee and gathers her notes for the meeting. I, however, am a mess. I sit motionless at my desk, drinking in her every move, until she gets up and heads for the door, smiling brightly.

"Coming, Mulder?"

I decide to suppress the smartass reply that's on the tip of my tongue and nod instead, rising to follow her out the door to our meeting. I walk behind her so I can keep my eyes on that skirt as she moves down the hall. She's definitely going to be the death of me.

I hate meetings. AD Skinner plus a bunch of other agents who I can barely tolerate, all seated around a large table in a dark, stuffy room with one window, and leather chairs that are supposed to be comfortable but make my back ache. Scully and I are the last to arrive at this morning's gathering, so we are forced to take the last two empty seats. She chooses the one at the long end of the table and I sit around the corner, to her left.

Skinner begins the meeting and then turns it over to Agent Arnold, who begins to recite boring case log statistics that mean nothing to me. I don't even know why I'm supposed to be here. I don't want to be here. I want to be downstairs, kissing Scully into a frenzy. She's sitting quietly next to me but I can hear her soft breathing. I steal a quick glance in her direction to watch the gentle rise and fall of her breasts. I also hear a 'shushing' sound coming from underneath the table, which tells me she's just crossed her legs. I know her skirt is short enough to be riding up her thighs now, and that makes me go hard. Christ. I want to make everyone else in this room disappear. Where are those damn aliens when you really need them?

I hear that 'shushing' sound again; Scully has uncrossed her legs. It's impossible for me to concentrate on the load of crap coming out of Arnold's mouth when Scully and that skirt are only inches away from me and my hard-on. If I don't touch somebody soon--either Scully or myself--I'm going to lose my mind. I try to focus my eyes in Arnold's direction while I carefully move my right hand under the table until it makes contact with Scully's leg. Because her skirt has indeed slid up, I am rewarded with her left thigh, covered by only a thin layer of nylon. She tenses up at my touch; I keep my gaze on Agent Arnold.

I begin to run my finger along her firm thigh. She twitches slightly, as does my cock. I skim my finger higher, finally finding the hem of her skirt. I slide my finger underneath, quickly followed by my entire hand. She squirms as my hand travels up her thigh until it reaches her lap. Even through her nylons and panties, I can feel the heat radiating from her core. I use one finger to trace the curve of her outer lips, swollen now with arousal. She trembles against my finger and I glance over at her. She's looking down at her notes and trying not to move, but her cheeks are flushed and her fingers are curled into a tight ball on the table. She's fighting for control, and so am I; Arnold drones on and I have to shift in my seat to ease the pressure on my aching cock. God, what the hell am I doing? I just can't seem to stop myself.

Scully moves slightly against my hand and my control vanishes; I press my finger in as far as the panties allow me to. At my intrusion, she lets out her breath in a gasp--a loud gasp--and I'm not the only one who hears it. Arnold stops blathering, and everyone's now staring at Scully. Oh shit. I keep my hand very still under Scully's skirt. She's stopped squirming and I feel her body coil up with tension. The room is silent and I bet everyone can hear my pulse hammering through my body, from my chest down to my throbbing erection.

"Agent Scully, did you have something to add?" Skinner asks. His eyes zero in on Scully, ricochet over to me, then dart back to her again. Damned observant Marine. I try to remain motionless, keeping a wary eye on Scully. Her cheeks are still pink but her response to Skinner's scrutiny is all business.

"No, sir. My apologies, Agent Arnold."

Her voice is steady, betraying no hint that, thanks to her very reckless partner, she was on the verge of climaxing in the presence of her boss and co-workers. I marvel at her powers of recovery and my own stupidity, especially since I'm still hard and there is nothing I can do about it now. My problem is quickly solved when a sharp, shooting pain in my foot causes me to forget about my cock; I have to bite my lip to stop my own outburst as Scully grinds her three-inch heel into my shoe. I slide my hand out from under her skirt as quickly as I can without attracting any more attention to either of us. When my hand is free from her lap, Scully removes her heel from my foot. She's watching Agent Arnold as though he's the most interesting man in the world, but the corners of her mouth are pinched tight and I know I am in big trouble. Can this morning get any worse?

Skinner finally calls for a break and Scully bolts from the room before I'm even out of my chair. I assume she is headed for the restroom, so I wait a few moments before venturing out to look for her. I meet her coming around the corner and she does not look happy to see me. In fact, if looks could kill, I've just been wiped out by a nuclear explosion. She yanks me by the elbow and leads me to the other end of the hall.

"Mulder, what is your problem?"

"I think it's obvious, Scully."

"Are you trying to make it obvious to everyone else in the room?"

"No, but I can't help it. I missed you."

"I missed you too, but at least I have enough control to keep my hands off you during a meeting with our boss and four other agents."

"You didn't stop me."

Her eyebrow shoots up but her face reddens and betrays her.

"Admit it, Scully. You were just as turned on as I was."

She's trying to remain angry, but her eyes soften and I feel a reprieve coming on.

"It was still careless. I should change seats and make you sit next to Agent Arnold."

"Why don't you just stick needles into my eyes? That would be a lot less painful. I promise I'll behave myself for the rest of the meeting." She gives me a triumphant look and goes back into the conference room.

I do manage to control myself and refrain from touching Scully for the rest of the meeting from hell, which drags on all afternoon. When Skinner sets us free, Scully and I hurry toward the door but she gets ambushed by Agent Arnold. "Meet me downstairs," I whisper as I leave the room. No sense in both of us having to listen to that windbag.

I return to our office and check my phone messages while I wait for Scully. One message is from the mailroom; there's a package waiting for me but only one clerk on duty, meaning there's no one available to deliver it to me. I check my watch; it's nearly 6:00 PM and I wonder if the clerk will still be there. I scribble a message to Scully, telling her to meet me in the mailroom.

The mailroom is also in the basement so it's just a short walk down the hall. The door's unlocked, so I go in and take a look around. No sign of the clerk, but there is a large carton sitting on a desk at the back of the room. Sure enough, it's addressed to me and it's something I've been expecting - a new sex cube. Perfect timing, since I've had nothing but sex with Scully on my mind today.

Since I'm alone, and Scully has apparently not yet escaped the clutches of Agent Arnold, I decide to inspect my new toy. I tear the carton open and pull the cube out of its plastic wrapper. It's covered in soft, green fabric like our other sex ramps, but this one's square--a spongy block. I set it on the floor and sit on it; it's sturdy yet has a nice bouncy feel. I thumb through the instruction pamphlet, looking at the pictures illustrating the different positions that can be achieved using the block. Thinking about me and Scully in some of those positions sends the blood rushing to my cock. As if on cue, the door opens and Scully enters. At the sight of her, my groin tightens further and I decide that I'm done thinking about what I want; it's time to go and get it.


"Back here. Come in and shut the door."

She does as I ask and approaches me.

"Mulder, what are you doing in here?"

"Waiting for you."

Her eyes widen as she spots what I'm sitting on.

"You bought another one of those things?"

"Of course. Didn't it say 'Collect 'em all' on the website? Let's try this one out." I pat the side of the block and watch her reaction. Her face flushes and she takes a long look at the block and then at my prominent hard-on.

"Mulder. . ." she begins.

"There's nobody else here." I keep my eyes on hers.

"We have plenty of time later..."

"I want you now."

Her eyes flash at the edge in my voice and I know I have her. I stand up and grab her to me in one swift motion, attacking her mouth with mine. She murmurs under my lips and her tongue slides into my mouth. I take it, kissing her with a fierce greed.

I reach under her skirt, frantic now, and slide my hand up until my palm presses against her center. She gasps. Her panties and nylons won't stand in my way now. I fumble around, trying to find the waistband of her nylons. Scully tries to help me by unfastening her skirt but I stop her.

"Leave it on, Scully."

She looks at me with surprise but I shake my head and continue my struggle with her pantyhose. I want her just as she is, wearing that skirt that's been making me insane all day. Her pantyhose are also driving me insane; I finally get a grip on the waistband and yank them down hard, abandoning any hope of finesse. The fabric tears and I peel the hose from Scully's body. She reaches around and we pull her panties down together. I do not need to touch her to feel how wet she is for me.

I lift Scully onto the block, setting her on her knees. She grips the edges with both hands; even with her small frame, she doesn't have much room to balance. My erection is burning a hole in my pants, which for some reason I am still wearing. I scramble to unzip my fly and free myself. I let my pants fall to my ankles and the incessant throbbing of my cock warns me not to bother with my shirt.

I move around to stand behind Scully, admiring the view of her round, sweet ass in that tight skirt. And now I can do more than just look; I grip the hem and pull her skirt up enough to give me access to her soft, wet curls. Scully shivers as my hands brush across her bare ass and she braces herself on the cube, ready for me. I grip her hips, bend my knees a bit, and push into her. Oh yeah. This is what I have been waiting for. I can see her beautiful ass while I feel her wet heat surrounding me. So good. Scully moans softly with each thrust of my cock, and the sound drives me wild. Keeping one hand firmly gripped on her hips so she doesn't slide off the block, I reach around to grab her breast. In my fevered haste to get at her ass, I never gave her the chance to reveal her luscious breasts, so my hand closes around the silky fabric of her blouse and bra instead of her smooth flesh. But I can still feel the sharp peak of her nipple and I run my fingers across it firmly. Scully gasps with pleasure and pushes back harder against me. Oh Jesus. She feels incredible and I am not going to last much longer. I move faster and keep my hand cupped tightly around her breast, until she trembles and throws her head back. She comes in warm, wet waves around my swollen cock, and I am lost. I slam my hips against her ass and come hard, spilling into her with such force that I nearly push her off the block. But she hangs on to it, and I hang onto her as my vision blurs and my body unravels.


Scully squirms beneath me and I open my eyes; she's still perched on the block, but her knees are giving out because I'm leaning against her back.

"God, Scully, I'm sorry." I rise quickly and help her off the block. She looks around for her panties and I retrieve them from the floor where I had tossed them in a tangle with her pantyhose. She snatches them from me and tries to regain her composure.

"Mulder, what has gotten into you today? You know how I feel about fooling around at work." The gleam in her eyes is not from anger. I can't help feeling smug because I'm the one that put it there.

"I also know you feel pretty fucking amazing." I stop putting on my pants to reach for her but she moves away.

"What am I going to do with you, Mulder? No, don't answer that," she says, before I can suggest anything. "Can we just get out of here, please?"

We finish dressing and I slide the cube back into its plastic wrapper. I find a large trash can in the corner and toss the empty carton into it. We exit the mailroom and head for the parking garage. As we emerge from the elevator, Scully's cell phone rings.

"Hi, Mom."

She stops walking to take the call but I continue towards my car, to give her some privacy. We still haven't really spoken about how her weekend went and whether anybody gave her any shit about our relationship. Her mother has a pretty good idea that things have progressed, and I think she's ok with it, but Bill is always another story.

I've just finished setting the block into the back seat of my car when Scully catches up to me.

"I have to pick my mother up at the airport, Mulder. Her flight landed almost an hour ago and she still hasn't been able to get a cab. The weather's gotten really bad and Dulles is a mess."

"I'll go with you. We can take my car."

She gives me a grateful smile and gets into the front seat. I don't mind the slight detour; our mailroom rendezvous has taken the edge off of my craving for her, and this will give me enough recovery time to be at the top of my game for our next round, which I plan on starting as soon as I can get Scully alone in her apartment.

The weather has indeed turned nasty; it's raining heavily and traffic is horrible, but we finally make it safely to Dulles, where we find Maggie Scully peering anxiously out of the Arrivals terminal window. I double-park and get out of the car to put her luggage in the trunk.

"Thank you, Fox. I really appreciate this. I thought I was never going to get home. I hope I'm not inconveniencing you and Dana," she says, getting into the back seat.

"Not at all, Mrs. Scully." I close the door for her and get back behind the wheel. Scully shifts under her seat belt so she can turn and talk to her mother as I drive.

"Oh, what's this?" Mrs. Scully asks suddenly. I glance in the rear view mirror and realize she's referring to the sex block, which is sitting on the seat beside her. Oh, great.

Scully tries to save my ass. "It's, um, an ottoman, Mom."

"Nice color," Mrs. Scully comments. I let out a breath and Scully turns away from her mother and glares at me. I grip the steering wheel tightly and return my eyes to the road ahead. I guess I should have kept the carton. At least the cube is in the plastic wrap, which I hope masks the scent of our mailroom tryst.

My car forges ahead as the rain falls in sheets around us. Scully turns the radio on and listens to the traffic updates with concern. Most of the streets in Georgetown are flooded and drivers are being advised to avoid the area. Mrs. Scully, being a typical mother, decides that it will be too dangerous for us to continue on from her house and insists that we spend the night there. That would ruin my chances of having Scully all to myself tonight, but I know that it's not my place to argue, so I remain silent while Scully tells her mother that we will be fine. Her mother continues to insist, and Scully finally looks at me, ready to concede. I nod in agreement and she accepts her mother's offer.

We arrive at Mrs. Scully's and I park my car in her driveway. We hurry into the house and I'm told to make myself comfortable on the couch while Scully helps her mother put the luggage away and get ready for our overnight stay.

"Fox, do you have a change of clothes? You can't sleep in your suit." Mrs. Scully returns to the living room and looks at me thoughtfully. "I'm sure I have some old clothes of Bill Jr.'s that you can borrow." No, I'm not wearing anything of Bill's. That's just wrong.

"Thanks, Mrs. Scully. I've got some workout clothes in the car." Scully walks back into the room and stands next to me, listening to this exchange with interest. Her mother, satisfied that I am not going to need Bill's clothing, turns to the kitchen. I bring my lips close to Scully's ear. "Or I can sleep naked."

She's still wearing those three-inch heels so I dance away before she can attack, but she rolls her eyes at me as I head back outside to my car.

The rain hasn't stopped; I leave the front door unlocked and make a mad dash to my car. As I scramble to get my gym bag out of the trunk, I notice the sex cube sitting in the back seat. I have a wonderful vision of Scully perched atop it, grinding her ass against, wait. This is her mother's house. Get a grip, Mulder.

Scully brews a pot of tea and settles in to spend a few minutes chatting with her mother about their weekend in San Diego. I listen quietly, trying to remember the last time I felt like part of a family. I wonder how I will ever fit into Scully's.

Mrs. Scully decides to turn in for the night and starts to clear away the teacups. Scully gets up to help her mother and I rise to help, too. Scully shakes her head and takes the cup out of my hands.

"The spare bedroom is the first one on the left, Mulder. Goodnight." Clearly, I have been dismissed. I bend down to try and kiss Scully but she turns her head and offers me her cheek instead. I take what I can get and let my lips linger on her smooth skin. She sighs and I reach up to tilt her mouth to mine. I am nearly there when suddenly Scully is gone and I am kissing the air. I look up and find she's abandoned me for the kitchen doorway, where her mother stands with an amused smile. Resigned to my fate, I call "Goodnight, ladies" and trudge up the stairs to sleep alone.

But I can't sleep. That's nothing new, but tonight it's not because I'm profiling a case. It's because I'm horny as hell and I can't stop thinking about Scully, who's alone down the hall when she should be here with me. Or about that goddamn cube in the back seat of my car, and that's the last straw. I toss back the covers and tiptoe to the door, opening it carefully. There's no noise from the hallway, so I slide out of the bedroom and make my way slowly towards the stairs.

I put my bare foot on the top step; it creaks and I freeze. What the fuck am I doing? I stand perfectly still for several seconds, but there is no sound from the other bedrooms, so I continue down the stairs at a snail's pace. By the time I reach the living room, my heart's pounding madly and I'm positive that the whole neighborhood can hear me and knows what I'm up to. But that doesn't stop me; I creep to the front door and open it slowly. It's still raining, but that doesn't stop me, either. Leaving the front door ajar so I can get back inside, I run out to my car and unlock it with trembling hands. Grabbing the block from the back seat, I clutch it in my arms and sprint back to the house. I'm soaking wet but the block is nice and dry, thanks to the plastic wrapper.

I make my way slowly back up the stairs, leaving a trail of water droplets and wet footprints on the carpet. I am too aroused to care. I'm also terrified; every tiny noise I make seems amplified and I'm starting to sweat. I wonder what I will say to Mrs. Scully if she wakes up and catches me carrying what she thinks is an ottoman to her daughter's room. Maggie is a smart woman. I decide there's no explanation that would possibly work, so I continue my excruciating climb up the stairs and pray to any deity that will listen to take pity on my horny soul and not wake Mrs. Scully up.

I finally reach Scully's room after what feels like hours, and spend another slow-motion moment opening her door. A thin strip of light shines through the blinds and it's enough to let me see that she's curled up in the middle of her bed. I am rock hard and my heart is still pounding. I set the block down and try to pull out of the wrapper as quietly as I can. Of course the plastic crackles, sounding like the retort of a gun to my nervous ears. Scully stirs slightly. I get the block free without waking her, so I set it right next to her bed and sit down. I lean in and plant a soft kiss against her hair, then another against her forehead, and another on her cheek, until she stirs again and opens her eyes.

"Mulder? What's wrong?"

She sits up, startled; I put my hand out to stop her from getting out of bed. She notices my damp appearance.

"You're wet. What's wrong?"

"Shh. Nothing's wrong. I just want to screw your brains out, Scully." I pull the covers from her; she's wearing a faded, oversized t-shirt and her legs are beautifully bare. I reach out to stroke one of her smooth thighs. Her breath catches but her eyes glitter and she smiles.

"Mulder, you are insatiable."


"And you're wet," she says again.

"I went outside." I point down and she finally realizes what I'm sitting on.

"And you're crazy." She shakes her head.

"Damn right." I lean in to kiss her and she welcomes me with her luscious mouth. She slides her hands under my shirt, her fingers leaving small sparks wherever they meet my skin. I return the favor, running my hands under her t-shirt until I reach her breasts, seizing them and rubbing my fingers against her tight nipples. She moans against my mouth and her hands journey to my lap. She strokes my hard-on thru my gym shorts and smiles again when she discovers I've got no underwear on. Her hands continue along my thighs and back up to my shorts, where she tugs on the elastic and frees my erection. As she helps me wriggle out of my shorts, I stop playing with her breasts and pull her t-shirt over her head so I can see them. I bend down to take one to my lips, sucking hard on her nipple. She moans and reaches for my lap, curling her hand around my cock like a small circle of heat. Now it's my turn to moan; she slides her hand along my shaft and the heat spreads through me. I am losing control and I need to be inside her now. I release her breast from my mouth and reach for her panties, but my hand finds her soft curls instead. She's not wearing any underwear, either. I slide a finger inside her, feeling her liquid silkiness.

"And you're wet, too." I murmur against her ear.

Scully writhes against my hand; I circle my finger a few times and then remove it. She whimpers at its departure, but she knows what I want; she slips her hand from my erection and moves from the bed to straddle my lap. I take her by the waist and slide her down onto my cock until I am completely surrounded by her.

She starts to ride me and I lift my hips to meet her; the block bounces with us and we move together in a delicious rhythm. We can't let Mrs. Scully hear us; at least the block doesn't squeak the way bedsprings do, but Scully starts to moan again and I slip my hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. She licks the fingers I have pressed against her mouth and I struggle to keep from moaning, too. I stroke swiftly and she matches my urgency, jerking her hips up and down as she grasps my cock with a raw, sweet friction. God, she's so warm, so tight; I am so close but I don't want to leave her behind. I thrust up, hard and deep; her eyes widen and close as she tumbles over the edge, and I bury my face against her hair to keep from screaming as she takes me with her.

I could stay like this all night, with Scully curled in my lap, but she wriggles in my arms, trying to break free. I am drained, boneless, so she slips loose.

"Bed," she orders, tugging on my hand. We crawl back into her bed and I sink gratefully into the mattress. I use my remaining ounce of strength to gather her back into my arms and pull her close.

"Next time I go with you," I tell her. "I can't stand being without you."

"Me neither." she says. We lie quietly and I'm nearly asleep when she mumbles against my chest.

"Mulder, you know you are going to have to put that thing back into your car without my mother seeing you."

Talk about rude awakenings. I really should do it now but I'm not going to get out of bed when I have a warm and sleepy Scully snuggled against me. I'll figure something out in the morning.

"I know. Do you think she'd notice if we left it here?"


Feedback welcomed. It's all good!

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