If this was a dream, she was going to enjoy herself. Reality could wait a little longer. His body was hot and hard against her own and she ran her hands over his chest, feeling the hard discs of his nipples and the steel bands of his abs. Oh my. That was amazing.
He grasped her hip and pulled her against his body, and she felt the massive length of him against her wet panties. Her eyes widened as the thick, hard length of him slid against her pussy, and she gasped.
Well, if she was imagining things, she‘d certainly gone overboard.
―Wow,‖ she breathed, flexing her hips. That seemed like it was going to hurt, but oh man, it was going to be a
good
kind of hurt.
His fingers danced along the seam of her panties, and then he brushed the material aside with his fingertips. One hot, thick finger slid along the seam of her pussy and she gave a gasp of delight, her hips involuntarily flexing. The man made a low rumble in his throat, as if he were amused at her response.
Then, she felt the thick head of his cock nudge against her core.
Chloe bit her lip, waiting for him to enter her, her body tensing.
He grasped her hips, angling her, and ever so slowly, nudged forward.
She tensed against him as he entered her. Oh god. That was too much. It had been so long since she‘d had sex and he was so thick and hard. A whimper escaped her throat as he stroked the head of his cock against her core, then slid out. She immediately felt bereft and raised her hips again. His cock probed against her entrance again, stroking in just enough to torment her. Then again, and deeper. When he gave a fourth shallow thrust, a sigh escaped her and she raised her hips in response, wanting more.
Slowly, inch by inch, he fed the thick length into her body. Chloe opened her eyes and through the haze saw those intense blue eyes staring down into her face, but that felt too personal. She closed her eyes, letting the sensations sweep over her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he gave another shallow thrust, and then sank home in one bold motion, impaling her on the thick length. Her body burned and stretched, adjusting to the thickness of him. He thrust again, this time with a rocking motion behind it, and she moaned a soft response. Oh, that was good. Again, another thrust, and she felt that deep, intense sensation that she‘d only felt once in the marriage bed – her dream lover‘s cock was rubbing up against her g-spot. Her entire body quivered with the next thrust and she raised her hips, arching so the next one would hit the right spot again, and moaned when it did.
―Oh, you‘re good,‖ she whispered.
His chuckle was soft in her ear, and he thrust again, faster, harder. His cock jack-hammered hard into her body and Chloe responded to each thrust with the desperate rise of her own hips, whimpering with each stroke. He still watched her with every stroke, and she dropped her gaze to his beautiful body.
The man‘s muscles flexed with each stroke, each hammer of his thick cock making his abs clench in a fascinating way. He pounded into her, the slap of his sac against her body adding another thrilling sensation to the mix. Harder and harder he thrust, until he was lifting her off the ground with each stroke, and her muscles were tensing and clenching, waiting for him to brush up against that perfect spot once more.
1There! His cock rubbed against her g-spot again and that deep, washing pleasure overcame her.
Chloe sobbed into the first orgasm she‘d had in five years, her pussy clenching tight around the cock of her dream man.
He hammered into her a few strokes more, then gave a hoarse cry of his own, and she felt his body stiffen and shudder as he came deep inside her. Chloe wrapped her arms and legs around her dream lover, trying to pull his body down over her own, to burrow in his warmth. She liked touching him. So, so much. She didn‘t care that he was supposed to be a statue.
But the dream lover only brushed the damp locks of hair away from her sweaty forehead and
pressed a kiss to the side of her mouth. The air shimmered as she stared up at him, silvery and full of sparkles that danced around his thick, curly hair. Then he detangled his limbs from hers, and she was too weak and dizzy to follow after him. Her eyes bare slits, she stared as the man staggered away a few feet, then returned to the pedestal, the strange glittery shimmers following his muscular frame. As she watched, his body froze in place and the spear returned to his hand as if by magic.
The shimmering light disappeared.
Yep, she‘d hit her head pretty fucking hard. As if to remind her, the side of her head throbbed and Chloe passed out on the floor again, this time with a smile on her face.
****
When she woke up a few hours later, it was disturbing to realize that her skirts were still hiked around her waist, her panties shifted to one side. If hitting her head gave her wet dreams, well, she‘d have 1to hit it more often, she told herself wryly. A quick glance at the statue‘s flexed buttocks told her that nothing in the room had changed.
Just my imagination gone wild
.
Imagination and libido, she corrected. But how to explain the wonderful exhaustion in her body?
The soreness between her legs? The strange shimmering light that she‘d seen when he‘d appeared? Her head still throbbed from the hit, so she picked herself up off the floor carefully and took a few minutes to reorient herself. She couldn‘t tell Muffin that she‘d hit her head – filing a workers comp claim on the first day on the job? Sure way to make it her last day on the job. Grimacing at her headache, she picked the camera up off the table and decided to get back to work. She placed it in the tripod, and then adjusted the lens, and…
Stopped.
Chloe stared in surprise at the statue. Instead of a fig leaf covering his groin, his cock was exposed for all to see. Semi-erect, it was glorious even in a restive state. And was that a hint of a smile curving the statue‘s mouth? He hadn‘t been smiling before.
A cold, clammy feeling washed over her as she remembered the statue – no, the man – flexing over her, his hard body pounding into her own. There‘d been no fig leaf there. She raced forward, examining the statue and peering at the section in question. She was crazy. Had the fig leaf fallen off? No, the way he was currently, ahem, half-erect, there was no way a fig leaf could fit on there.
What was going on?
She turned her head and a hint of green caught her eye. Chloe approached it and picked it up off the floor. Sure enough, it was a large leaf. She examined it, then approached the statue and held it up to his shaft, measuring.
1The leaf disappeared from her hand, and the statue changed, ever so slightly as she watched, the leaf re-forming over the statue‘s cock and smoothing the area out into decency.
―Now I know I‘m going crazy,‖ she told herself.
Chloe couldn‘t make herself go out and see the security guard. Had he heard the cries of her sexual dream? Or whatever it was? He hadn‘t come to check on her when she‘d slipped. What if – oh God
– there were video cameras? And she‘d been caught on tape? Would it show she was masturbating? Or would it show the warm, bronzed skin of the man she‘d had between her legs?
You really need to get laid
, she told herself.
By a real man, not a figment of your imagination
.
Around eight in the morning, Chloe‘s eyes were beginning to droop with exhaustion, just as
Muffin sailed in the door, dressed in plaid designer overalls and a white poet‘s shirt. Enormous hot pink hoop earrings twitched with her happy smile, and she handed Chloe a cup of Starbucks as she entered.
―There you are, my dear. How was your first time?‖
Chloe stared at the old woman, a hot flush on her cheeks. ―You mean my first time on the job? It was fine.‖
―Of course, of course,‖ said Muffin with a smile. ―So you like the job? Didn‘t mind working overnights for me?‖
―No, working overnight was fine,‖ she said, and it was true. She‘d had a weird sleep schedule for so long – first the depression, then the anxiety, then the insomnia – that she could stay up all night usually and not let it bother her. ―I don‘t mind at all. It‘s nice and quiet, and it lets me think.‖
―Well I hope you got some work done with all that thinking,‖ Muffin said and gave her another wink. ―So you‘ll be back tomorrow for more of my statue?‖
What did the old woman think she knew? ―Um…‖
1 ―Or are you going to do vases next?‖
That innocent question brought a whole new set of mental images to mind. Blushing, Chloe
nodded. ―Let me show some of the concepts I‘ve come up with for the website…‖
****
For the first time in five years, Chloe slept like a baby. She woke up that evening bright and refreshed. Usually she had trouble sleeping, but perhaps it was the bump on the head or the exhaustion of a full day‘s work – or writhing on the floor with an imaginary man.
Whatever it was, she‘d slept great. With her head clear, and some time to think things through, she‘d decided that tonight she wasn‘t going to let her imagination get the better of her. Obviously, she‘d dreamed the interlude with the man from the statue. No more, no less. Coupled with her headache and her trouble sleeping, and it was no wonder she‘d been imagining things. She‘d just have to keep her focus tonight at work, and she‘d do so by keeping busy.
1
Chloe showed up to work early that evening. As an experiment, she waved to the security guard and gave him a bright smile. He barely glanced up from his novel when she entered.
All right. If he‘d seen her naked and writhing on the floor, she was pretty sure he‘d have had a different reaction than that. Chloe felt an overwhelming sense of relief, and she hummed to herself as she entered the building, flirty pink skirt swirling around her hips. She‘d worn a soft beige sweater and a skirt that made her feel pretty, and a pair of cute wedge sandals just in case she hadn‘t dreamed the whole thing and the statue really did come alive in the middle of the night, turning into some sort of sex god.
If that was the case, she wanted to be ready for anything. And, she thought, mentally squirming, that list of ‗anything‘ included making love to him again.
She‘d liked being touched and stroked and kissed last night. Liked it so much that her nerves still sang with delight.
If Muffin noticed Chloe‘s good mood, she didn‘t say anything. ―Ready to put in another full evening of work, my dear girl?‖ Her voice sang out. ―Get those fingers moving and break out your creative muse?‖
Chloe stiffened. Was that an innuendo? Surely not. She set down a cup of Starbucks next to her laptop and gave Muffin a shy smile. ―Of course. Did you decide which design you liked best?‖
They discussed Chloe‘s mock-ups for the website, picked a design, and then the building slowly cleared out as the sun went down.
An hour and a half later, Chloe was left alone in the art gallery storage room with nothing but her cup of Starbucks, the laptop, and the artifacts that surrounded her.
1Furtively, her gaze slid over to the statue. It was covered in a sheet today, and she could barely make out the outline of the man‘s head, the point of the spear, the curve of a rock-hard buttock under the fabric.
Chloe slid from her stool and checked the room. No one there. She checked the doors and double-checked them again, then circled back through the front, pretending to swing by the kitchen for a refill on her coffee. The guard‘s snores echoed and she stopped, in shock.
He was sleeping on the job! She hesitated, torn. Perhaps she should report him to Muffin? The gallery wasn‘t exactly safe if he was asleep on the job.
Then again, she realized, his lack of attention was going to work in her favor…provided she wasn‘t crazy and imagining the whole thing, of course. So she wouldn‘t wake up the guard, she slipped off her shoes and scooted back to the main storage room.
Still empty. The statue was still covered by the draped sheet. Chloe shut and locked the door behind her and then stepped over to the statue and tugged it free, revealing the Roman soldier.
Nothing was different. His expression was the same as it had been when she‘d first seen him. His stance exactly the same, the spear tilted just the right direction. Even his fig leaf – impressive though it was – was simply a stone carving, not an actual leaf.
She was a little crestfallen to see that.
Maybe…Chloe chewed on her lip and wiggled her toes on the cold floor, thinking. Maybe she‘d done something to wake the statue up? She remembered running her hands all over it yesterday, unable to resist that smooth-looking marble.
Tentatively, she reached a hand out and touched one stone buttock, then jerked it away, feeling guilty. If it was a statue and not a man, he wouldn‘t care if he was manhandled, right? So why did she feel 1so weird about caressing him? She brushed her fingers over him one more time, just to make sure.
Nothing. Chloe frowned up at it. ―So that‘s it, then? I‘m crazy?‖
No response. She sighed, unable to give up on the fantasy just yet. It had seemed…so real. She‘d felt alive for the first time in five years. Like a young, sexual, beautiful woman. And she‘d loved it. Please don‘t let it be a figment of my imagination, she wished.
She wasn‘t ready to have that side of her disappear again.
Chloe studied the statue for a bit longer, then glided her fingertips up one muscular marble thigh.
―Maybe you need a bit more encouragement, then? Need to get warmed up?‖ She asked it, even though it was obvious he wouldn‘t respond. Her hands slid over the thighs of the statue, hoping for warmth and feeling only cold stone. Across the chest, the rippling pectorals, the flat, hard nipples.
Then she slid her hands down to the fig leaf and cupped the package there.
It was hot under her fingertips.
―I…oh,‖ she said aloud, and looked up.
The light shimmered around her, full of silver sparkles that made her eyes want to unfocus and refocus all over again. The statue – no, the man – stared down at her, his flesh deepening to the bronze tan of a man that spent his days outdoors. Brilliant blue eyes shone out of a square, hard face that was all masculinity. He grinned down at the sight of her and she gasped, realizing her hands were still on his package and it had grown hard and thick in her grasp.