Touch the statue

The lifelike features of the statue are amazing! In fact, in the dim light of this room, Alex can almost imagine that he is looking at an actual sleeping woman, and not a marble replica. By setting his candle on the nightstand, the illusion is almost complete, and he can praactically convince himself that her grey features are merely the reflection of moonlight.

It is the knowledge that it is, in fact, a statue, however, that gives Alex permission to continue to look so intently at its seductive beauty. Had it been an actual young woman, he would have considered it highly improper — not to mention very creepy — to be standing there, getting a hardon as he looks intently at every feature of her nude body.

Realizing that he has no immediate prospects of seeing a real naked woman this closely any time soon, Alex drinks in everything he sees. He has long dreamt and actively imagined what it will be like when he meets the woman of his dreams and is able to experience his first time of intimacy with her. He looks again at the woman’s face and is captivated by her beauty — a beauty that perfectly complements the intoxicating sexuality that awaits below her neck.

Almost without thinking, Alex reaches out and touches the exquisite work of art. He first gingerly touches a hand, marveling at the incredible detail the artist chiseled into the marble. Every line of the subject’s flesh seems to be captured perfectly. Even a small mole on the back of her wrist is reflected in the marble representation. Alex wonders if this statue was created out of the artist’s imagination, or if it is a representation of a woman who actually lived and posed for the sculpture. If it was an actual person, Alex wonders how the artist maintained his composure, patiently and professionally chiseling away at the marble, while such a seductively beautiful creature reclined in front of him.

If the detail on the hand is so exact, then Alex concludes that the rest of the body must be equally precise. He moves his hand slowly up the statue’s arm to her shoulder, trying to imagine the soft touch of warm flesh against his fingers, rather than the cool, hard marble.

He places his hand against the young woman’s cheek, gently tracing his thumb over her lips. In his imagination, he sees himself doing the same to the woman who inspired this statue. How hard it is to realize that she has been dead for centuries!

Speaking of hard, he is conscious that his dick seems to be unable to distinguish between a marble statue and a real woman. He feels his erection protesting its confinement in his pants and insisting that it get the chance to do the very thing his hand is doing.

Alex tries to block out the throbbing between his legs, but as his eyes move downward to the statue’s breasts, his hand seems to move on its own to follow his gaze. He tenderly touches the hard, cool nipples. How can something so small have such a powerful effect on him? He gently rubs the medium-sized nubs between his thumb and forefinger, and as his body heat strips the marble’s coolness away, he imagines them being soft and fleshy. His cock throbs insistently as he leans in and examines the beautiful orbs carefully. Again, he is amazed at the incredible detail. He wonders how the artist was able to sculpt the tiny bumps around each nipple that rise from the smooth marble like goosebumps. In vain, he studies the statue, looking for the tiniest imperfection from an accidental chisel strike, or even from an imperfection in the marble, but everything he sees is beautiful and perfect.

Still downward he goes with his eyes and his hands. He places his palm on the inviting mound between her legs and feels his heart race in his chest. The experience is so sensual that he wonders if he will actually ejaculate in his pants without even touching his raging erection. As he rubs over the sensual womanhood, warming the stone with his hand, he imagines feeling soft, warm, wetness. If that was what he felt instead of the stone, he can’t imagine it being more erotic than this!

With a self-conscious glance toward the doorway, he confirms that it is just the two of them in the room. “No,” he says to himself. “Not the two of us — it’s just me! It’s just a statue, after all!”

Reminding himself that it is just a statue gives him the courage — and the excuse — to climb onto the bed, kneeling between the stone figure’s outstretched legs. With his heart pounding just as hard as it would if it were a real girl under him, he places both hands on her breasts and lowers himself onto her body, feeling his hard bulge press against her lifelike pussy.

With a sigh, Alex starts to dry hump the unknown woman. In the back of his mind, he knows this is perverted and really freaky, but by this point, he is so turned on that he has abdicated most of his decision making to the divining rod between his legs. He looks down at the exquisite figure beneath him, and it takes little imagination for him to picture her as a living, breathing, girl.

In fact, the more that he gets turned on, the more his imagination seems to take control. He fancies that he actually sees some color coming into her flesh, and as he gropes her stone breasts, he can almost imagine that the unyielding hardness of the marble is actually becoming pliable and spongelike in his grasp.

He closes his eyes and lowers himself completely on the statue. As he continues to grind his crotch against the marble mound, he runs his hands all over the lifelike contours of the statue’s body, endeavoring to warm the entire object with his body heat so as to further perfect the illusion of reality.

His cheek brushes against the statue’s cheek, and his lips seek out their counterparts. With the awkwardness of a young man’s first kiss, but with the boldness that comes from knowing that his technique wouldn’t be critiqued, Alex kisses the statue.

“My imagination is really taking over!” Alex says to himself. His fondling and kissing the lifelike object has him so turned on that he knows it is just a matter of time before he is going to bring himself to climax. Not wanting to face Roderick’s questions about why he has a huge wet stain on the front of his pants, yet not wanting to stop his sensual play, Alex lifts his hips long enough that he can reach down, unfasten his pants, and push them down far enough to free his rigid cock.

Carefully returning to his prior position, Alex cautiously resumes his grinding against the marble. He is cautious, because he is concerned about hurting himself against the unyielding stone, but much to his surprise — and definite enjoyment — his persistent friction seems to have warmed the marble, making it feel almost fleshy in comparison.

In fact, as Alex notes, the entire statue seems to have warmed significantly. More than that, it doesn’t feel nearly as hard as it was. Surely this is a figment of his imagination, but as his hips get into a steady rhythm, rubbing his schlong along the vertical crevice between the statue’s legs, he reaches again for the beautiful breasts. There can be no doubt that the nipples are more erect than they were when he started. More than that, the breasts actually yield to his firm squeeze!

He allows his eyes to move up rapidly to the statue’s face. There is a definite change there, as well. The eyelids are still closed, and the face remains that of a sleeping woman, but the lips that had been gently closed are now parted, and Alex can feel breath escaping from them.

As Alex takes this all in, something else occurs that sends a shock through every fiber of his being. His cock, which had been steadily rubbing up and down over the stone lips of the statue’s pussy, working itself steadily toward what he knew would be a massively-satisfying orgasm, suddenly grew warm as the hard, stone folds unexpectedly gave way, allowing his cock to easily slip inside the crevice that had not been there a moment before.

The shock and wonder of all of this hit Alex at the same moment that his brain was seized by the glorious sensation of his cock entering a pussy for the first time. The most amazing experience he had ever brought on himself with his hand instantly faded away into insignificance as his rigid sword basked in the sweet, enveloping grasp of warm, wet cunt.

Alex gasps and looks down, just in time to see his prick bury itself to the base, just below the small tuft of dark hair that is now intertwined with his own. He pulls half-way out and thrusts himself in again, eliciting yet another gasp from his lips. The unprecedented rush of endorphins into his teenage brain are sending his body into instinctive movement, overpowering any hesitation that would otherwise be caused by the strange mystery.

He watches himself thrusting repeatedly into the tight cunt, until something else grasps his attention. It is the simultaneous sensation of a hand clutching the back of his head and a loud gasp coming from directly below his face.

He looks down and sees the wide eyes of the young woman, staring at him, and her mouth open, as her face conveys combined looks of surprise, desire, and ecstasy.

All of this is far too much for Alex’s brain to process, and it is certainly more than his cock has ever been trained to withstand. He feels himself right on the verge of what threatens to be the most powerful orgasm of his entire life. With only a second or two to act, he makes his decision.