Syzygize Me by Lapis Lazuli

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Syzygize Me by Lapis Lazuli

"I know who the killer is," the voice from the phone rang in Mulder's head as he pulled the rented car to a hasty stop in front of a dark house and ran for the garage door.

The steady beam from his flashlight showed a car, and a figure huddled on the ground next to it. Margi.

She wore a black jacket and a tight skirt. Her abundant eye makeup stained the tears that ran freely down her cheeks. She was shivering, he noticed. A symptom of shock.

"Come on," he said to the girl soothingly, helping her to her feet. The skirt had ridden up on her thighs, but she didn't notice - just leaned her head on his shoulder and cried. His arms went around her out of habit.

"Ssh," he whispered into her hair. "I know. It hasn't been such a great birthday for you, huh?"

The blonde girl sniffled a little at that; wiped her nose and tried to regain her composure.

"It was Terri," she breathed. "She killed them all."

"Ok, ok," he murmured, stroking her hair and facing her away from the dead boy slumped against the wall, "Let me just call Agent Scully and we'll get you out of here."

"Oh, Agent Mulder.. I'm so scared. Terri is my friend, and I didn't want to turn her in, but now I'm afraid she'll kill me, too, and --"

"And what?" he asked, looking away from the road for a moment to meet her eyes.

"And," she answered shyly, "I don't want to die a virgin."

"She won't kill you, Margi," he responded firmly, somehow speaking around the lump in his throat. "I won't let her hurt you."

"I've had such a bad birthday," she pouted, her hand straying to his knee. "I'd really like it if you gave me a present."

Mulder realized somewhere in the back of his head that the hotel was between his present location and the police station to which they were headed. What difference would a few minutes make?

The room still reeked of vodka. As, Mulder realized, did he. But Margi didn't care.

Sultry young Margi, with her soft young hair and her tight young curves and her fresh young lips.

What the hell are you thinking, he asked himself.

That this is a chance no 35-year-old man can pass up, he answered. She's 18 --barely. She's legal. And she wants me.

Margi was faced away from him and already removing her jacket. As she bent over to place it gently on the chair, he could see the tops of her stockings and the band of pale flesh above, peeking at him from under the hem of her tight skirt. He stepped forward to caress the inviting curves of her ass, noting a lack of panty lines under the spandex. His groin surged.

Margi turned around, fitting neatly into his arms and sliding her fingers between the buttons of his shirt.

"I want to see you," she whispered. "I want to be with a real man."

Buttons flew to the corners of the room as she ripped his shirt from his chest. He discarded the shreds of material, and quickly stepped out of his pants before the hellcat in front of him could destroy those, too.

She stepped back, admiring his build as her hands idled over her breasts. Smiling shyly, she began to slowly unbutton her top. Mulder, now clad only in his boxers, sank to the bed. The man was spellbound by each new inch of flesh she revealed to his hungry gaze.

Finally the shirt was gone. There was nothing underneath it but the firm breasts of a cheerleader. The rosy nipples pointed straight out at him, and as she approached the bed, wearing just her skirt and stockings and heels, he couldn't resist craning his neck forward for a taste of her sweet flesh.

Pulling a tender nipple into his mouth as his hand closed over her other breast, he moaned hotly against her skin. He could feel her heart pounding under his lips -- her pulse beating in time with his throbbing groin.

Her fingers caught in his hair, pulling his head in to her. He strengthened the intensity of his movements, beginning to nip her flesh with his teeth, to roughly rub his stubble over the sensitive bud. She gasped with pleasure, arching her back to push her skin closer to him. A hand drifted down from his hair to where his hand squeezed and molded her other breast. She pushed his hand downward, starting it on a course exploring the rest of her.

He reached around to her ass, squeezing and pulling her closer until she was standing between his legs, fondled and held by all four of his limbs as his mouth continued its assault upon her breasts. Convinced she wasn't moving away, he let his hand slide slowly down the smooth fabric of her skirt and up under the hem, tracing from stocking to skin to ---

Wet. He'd been right about no panties, he realized as his middle finger slicked over smooth flesh and crinkly hair. So hot and wet that he spasmed hard, his teeth clamping down on tit and neck and anything within reach as his finger and two of its neighbors slid effortlessly into her molten core.

He released her skin from between his teeth and looked up at her heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips.

"Virgin?" he asked pointedly.

"You have to admit," she panted, bringing her lips down to his, "it worked."

One leg at a time, she lifted herself onto his lap, wrapping her stockinged feet behind him. Balanced on his thighs as she was, her pelvis was effectively suspended in midair, giving his long arm plenty of room to continue exploring her from behind.

Her mouth moved in to cover his so roughly that he tasted his own blood. Her tongue thrust into his mouth in rhythm with his fingers inside her, and she grabbed his shoulders with surprising strength, pushing him backward on the bed.

Her mouth clamped to his, she began grinding against the rock-hard bulge in his shorts as his fingers desperately tried to increase the pace inside her. A fourth finger joined the rest, leaving only his thumb outside. If he twisted his hand just right, he discovered that he was able to brush the digit up under her tiny clit.

His other hand recaptured her breast, still wet from his earlier attention. He squeezed hard, twisting the nipple, feeling her smile against his lips. She pulled her face away from his, just far enough to whisper against his mouth.

"Say you want me," she breathed.

He leaned upward, capturing her lower lip between his teeth and pulling her head back down by it. Reluctantly removing his hand from her wetness, he swiftly flipped her onto her back and pinned her shoulders to the bed.

Mulder pushed himself up on his hands to look at the girl below him. Her eyes were half-closed and her mouth was open. He could feel the breath coming in short bursts from between her red-stained lips. Grasping her hair firmly, he bent down to steal another rough kiss from the captured mouth. He was leaning up over her on one elbow; his other arm was free to return to its exploration.

"Say it," she whispered again. The forceful tone of her voice told Mulder that although she was on the bottom now, the girl still felt very much in control. He would have to see what he could do about that, he thought to himself with a grin. He slid his hand down her body and between her thighs, capturing a sample of her moisture, and brought the treasure back to her own lips. She sucked the finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue firmly around his digit and licking it clean. He moaned despite himself.

She released his finger and gazed up into his eyes. She smiled a sultry smile, then brought her tongue out to slowly lick her glossy lips. He smiled back, and reached out with his tongue to trace the same path around her mouth. Each time she leaned up to capture him in a kiss, he anticipated her movement and pulled back from her. She reached up to bring his mouth firmly to hers, but with lightning speed he caught her arms and held them pinned to the mattress above her head.

Margi made a token struggle but found that the man's strength was far superior to hers. He was concerned that the bondage might frighten her, but she seemed to like it. The girl was grinding her hips against his side now. Her whimpers increased in intensity and volume every time he teased her lips with his tongue.

He transferred both her wrists to one hand, and reached over the edge of the bed with the other. Finding his pants, he fumbled in the pocket and withdrew his prize: his handcuffs.

With both Margi's hands secured to the bed frame, his own hands were free to do other things. The first task he applied himself to was the removal of his boxers. He lifted them carefully over his erection and off his legs, finally flinging the thin material aside.

Her gaze was glued to his cock, he was pleased to see. He ran the fingers of one hand lightly over it to tease her, then leaned over her, bringing it almost within reach of her pleading tongue.

"Beg me," he ordered.

A steady stream of soft babble emerged from her lips. She carefully outlined, in language no virgin would know, exactly what she wanted him to do to her, and where, and for how long, and the size of the bruises she wanted when he was done. Pleased with the extent of his mental domination, he shifted, bringing the prize within her grasp.

The tongue that had spoken all those words was not afraid to act them out. Her mouth felt warmer and tighter than he would have thought possible, and she used every inch of her throat to full advantage. Her tongue explored the organ with surprising agility, and her throat contracted like a cunt as her swallowing motions contracted in ripples up and down his length.

He felt himself approach the edge much sooner than he wished to, and pulled out of her reach. She let out a long moan of disappointment, but he stifled her with a rough kiss. Tasting his precum on her tongue did nothing to hold off the inevitable, but instead brought back the physical memory of the wet suction he had just experienced.

"Ladies first," he whispered against her lips, and began to bite his way down her body. Throat, shoulder, breast, nipple, stomach, then finally he reached his goal. He rolled up her skirt to give himself a better view of her cunt.

It was beautiful. Glistening with her moisture, lips swollen and parted, tiny clitoris peeking out from its diminutive hood. He took his own finger into his mouth, tasting her saliva and her moisture, then plunged it into her depths. She emitted a low moan. He plunged harder, but could barely feel any friction from her vaginal walls. Two more fingers joined the first. That was better. It was about the thickness of a cock -- much closer to the stimulation she was probably used to.

Still not much more than a moan. He decided he was being too gentle. On the next inward thrust, he jammed his hand into her until he could feel her firm, yielding cervix under his fingertip.

She yelled. A feral sound that might have been "Yes".

He plunged in repeatedly, using the full force of his muscled arm. Her hips had begun to buck, and her knees were raised to give her leverage to push against his hand. He maneuvered his pinky finger to join the rest. Four fingers now, deep inside her, sticking together in her wet lust. He curved them upward, seeking the spongy area inside her opening, and knew by her invocation of God and Satan that he had found the coveted G-spot.

She was spasming wildly now, her orgasm not far away. He could feel her inner muscles ripple involuntarily around his hand. Inspired, he pulled his hand out just far enough to include his thumb. It met with no resistance. Nor did the mound of his knuckles. Suddenly, his hand disappeared to the wrist, curling naturally to form a fist inside her.

"Ooh," she moaned. "Whatever you're doing is incredible."

Smiling at the look of amazement on her face, he twisted his hand, allowing the knuckle of his thumb to rub her G-spot as he rocked the fist back and forth within her.

Her cries became louder and wilder, as did the contractions around his hand. He lowered his mouth to the hood of her concealed clit and began to gently lick the sensitive flesh. He had only to keep his head still -- her gyrations moved the object of his attention in a dance of pleasure under his mouth.

With a final shuddering scream, she came. The tight glove of her cunt squeezed his hand so tightly he wondered if he might lose circulation. Then, as softly as a whisper, she stilled. He removed his cramped fist from her with a smile, stretching it and watching the webbing of her thick fluid span the space between his fingers.

Margi lay panting, covered in a sheen of perspiration, and with a heavenly grin on her face.

"Do you want to catch your breath a minute?" he asked.

She shook her head violently from side to side. He was afraid it might spin all the way around -- she seemed possessed by demons, or perhaps just by lust.

"You still haven't said you want me," she reminded him breathlessly.

Poised over her, Mulder lifted her hips roughly and thrust his cock deep into her in a single fluid motion. He slid into her soaked cunt to the hilt, pushed a little harder for emphasis. Margi moaned.

"You want me," he whispered.

She grinned, panting through her parted lips. He looked down at the body he had entered. The way her arms stretched over her head made her breasts flatten upward, her nipples rock hard and aimed at the ceiling. Raising up farther, he could bend his head downward and see the junction of their bodies. He watched himself pump in and out of her for a few strokes, satisfied at the way his cock disappeared behind the hill of pale curls. He lowered himself completely, chest pressing against her breasts. Her hot breath on his cheek was the sensation that pushed him over the edge. His hands dug into her hair and his teeth clamped on her neck as he pounded her with his hips. Finally, he shuddered a spastic shudder and spent deep within her.

He lay still for a few moments, panting. His heart pounded in his ears. He pushed himself up, looking down at the heavy-lidded eyes of the girl -- no, woman -- under him. She grinned impishly.

He reached over the side of the bed for the handcuff keys and released her hands. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her in a strong embrace. He kissed her mouth tenderly, pulling back just far enough to whisper against her lips:

"Happy birthday."

- end -