Fuck The Statue

Maybe... The thought stole into Lois' brain. ...maybe I've missed the trigger somehow. If I go back to check...

The reporter slid forward, quivering as her cunt passed over every carved bump and vein in the stone cock.

Nope...better go back... She pressed back again, deeper this time, and a soft moan escaped her lips...and Lois knew she could no longer lie, even to herself. Her wet slit was dripping, and she could feel the familiar burning mix of need and anticipation that came when she set up the wallbanger. It was a part of herself that Lois had come to accept, as she grew up: sometimes, she just needed to get off.

Abandoning the pretense of searching for a trigger point, Lois began fucking the statue in short, slow strokes. She still hadn't taken it more than about six inches deep, but that was more than enough for her purposes—and she had no desire to scrape her cervix on that shaft. Instead she squeezed her pussy and pushed and pulled her sloppy slot across the hard length of the statue, biting her lip as she felt the sensations build within her, excitement growing as she started to speed up.

Too many times since becoming a woman, Lois had worn a date out. Felt them spend and go soft inside of her, while she remained frustrated and incomplete, **** to take matters into her own hands if she wanted to get off at all. That was part of the reason, Lois admitted to herself, that she had invested in sex toys at all...the endless frustration with floppy dicks and worn out tongues had left her with a desire for something a little more durable. That wouldn't finish until she did. Now...

Lois moaned louder, pounding her pussy back against the obscene stone phallus. She knew she couldn't take all of it, didn't dare really to take more of it than she was, but the hard length was even more solid and unyielding than her wallbanger, more detailed than any dildo she had ever owned. She could feel patches of roughness and smoothness, just like a real cock, and arched her back a little so one particular bump would rub and press against her g-spot, which was sending her into shivers with every stroke.

Somewhere inside the reporter knew she shouldn't be taking this much time, that anyone could walk in, that it was wrong for her to be fucking this ugly she-demon thing where anyone might see her...and yet at that moment she was so close, knees bent and on all fours, impaling herself on the tip of that long stone shaft, panting and moaning, sweat beading her brow, nipples erect and pushing against her bra, and her pussy on fire as she slammed it back more and more roughly, barely in control, gasping as it penetrated farther into her than ever before...