Hello and welcome to my readers. And an All Hallows Eve BOO to all of you. I would certainly appreciate your votes on this little tale. Your comments and feedback are also welcome, as always. Enjoy.
"Dude, look at her. Ain't she beautiful?"
Mitch Ricker beamed with pride as he gazed upon his latest acquisition from the local cemeteries, an almost life size statue of a nude woman. His increasing obsession with funereal objects tended to make his friends somewhat uneasy. However, Mitch was always fun to be with, always doing something outrageous and exciting.
For its size, the statue was remarkably light, requiring little effort on the young men's part to carry it into Mitch's bedroom. Living in the daylight basement of his parents house, Mitch could come and go as he pleased, often not seeing his parents for days at a time. Since they all pursued their own interests, Mitch was pretty much on his own.
"She's a pretty one, Mitch," Bobby Crawford enthused. "Who's grave was this from anyhow?" Mitch had called him and his other friend Johnnie Brody around midnight to help him load the statue in his van. Somehow, he had wrestled it from the confines of the old Perpetual Rest Cemetery at the outskirts of town, but then inexplicably could not lift it.
"Don't know," Mitch replied, wiping the dirt from the statues beautiful carved face with a wet cloth. "I found it lying on it's side in the leaves. It was as if someone had left it there. I figured no one wanted it, so I took it."
The statue was Mitch's largest procurement since he began prowling cemeteries eight months ago, looking for things to steal. His collection of urns, smaller statues, tiny gravestones and other ephemera filled the hollowed-out crawl space adjoining his living quarters. His parents were oblivious to Mitch's offbeat hobby, as he kept the door to the space locked and hidden behind a floor to ceiling poster of a ghoul feeding from a demolished coffin.
The three young men carefully moved the statue into the musty crawl space, the top of its head barely clearing the floor support beams. In the glare of the one dangling light bulb, the statues face glowed, lips curved in a sweet smile. This subtlety was lost on Mitch and his pals as they continued wiping the dirt away, commenting on the statues voluptuous breasts and buttocks, laughing about 'feeling her up' as they worked.
Mitch closed and locked the door, hanging the poster over it once more. He bid his friends goodbye and thanks for their help. His job as a driver for a local courier service left his nights free for his midnight prowls, not to mention horror-themed parties and all-night slasher movie marathons. His long-standing interest in the bizarre and the occult had inexplicably increased in recent months. No movie, web site or video game was too horrific and gory to suit him. Had Mitch's parents paid closer attention to their sons increasingly outré behavior, they would have been genuinely concerned for his mental stability. However, they were blissfully unaware as their offspring descended deeper into a fantasy world of horror and death.
Kathy Hanna, Mitch's last girlfriend, had labeled him a 'weirdo' and left him after he suggested they have sex on a catafalque in the cemetery when the moon was full. She enjoyed partying with and fucking her boyfriend, but this was the last straw. That was five months ago and Mitch's twenty-two year old hormones were raging. It was as if the sculpture called to him from the old cemetery as he drove up in the night. He searched its gloomy confines until he found it half hidden in the fallen leaves. Being of average strength, he marveled at how easily he moved the statue down the path and through the rusted iron gates to his van.
Mitch looked at his desk clock, almost two AM, 'Gotta get up in time for work,' he thought. 'Better wash up and get some sleep'.
Mitch awoke with a start. The moon illuminated his bedroom, shining through the sliding glass doors. He felt a thrill of fear as a shining figure materialized at the foot of his bed. His eyes widened in shock, it was a woman. Not just any woman, it was the statue, pulsing with life and radiating a soft glow not unlike the moonlight shining through the glass., A broad smile crossed its face and Mitch heard a woman's' voice in his head, "It is time, young one, it is time."
He gasped in wonder as his sleeping shirt, then his boxer shorts disappeared, and he felt a chill wind on his naked body. The woman moved toward him, full breasts bobbing, nipples erect, pussy glistening with arousal. Mitch felt his cock throb and stiffen into an almost painful erection, his hips moving with a life of their own. Slowly the woman climbed on the bed and straddled him, her wet pussy brushing the velvet head of his erect member.
Mitch gasped as the woman impaled herself on his stiff cock, her pussy gripping him like a fist in a wet velvet glove. He tried to embrace this mysterious beauty, but his arms would not move. "Not yet," the woman's throaty voice rang in his brain, "not yet, my darling." She leaned forward, dangling her alabaster breasts in Mitch's face, her pale pink nipples brushing his lips. Mitch raised his head and took one in his mouth, sucking on it greedily.
Slowly at first, then faster and faster the woman's hips moved up and down, engulfing then releasing Mitch's rigid cock, bathing it in her slick juices. Her pale pink lips fastened on Mitch's neck, sharp teeth nibbling on the tendons, soft tongue licking the warm skin. Mitch groaned as he rammed his rigid cock into the pale beauty, her long white hair spilling over his face as he filled his mouth with her cool breast flesh.
Then he felt a tremendous orgasm building up in him, overwhelming his mind as he focused on his stiff dick as it slid in and out of the woman's gripping cunt. The woman pulled his mouth from her breasts and clutched his face, crushing her cool lips against his warm ones, grinding her throbbing clit against his thrusting pelvis. Her wails of pleasure soared through Mitch's mind, urging him to greater heights of passion.
Mitch's arms were suddenly free and he embraced his mystery woman, thrusting deep in her pussy and cumming explosively, shooting huge wads of semen into her slick depths. He could feel the river of cum flowing from her juicy pussy, drenching his cock as she erupted in a massive orgasm. Without pausing for a second, the couple continued to fuck, both cumming repeatedly until Mitch passed out.
When he awoke the next morning, he was alone in his bed. Both his head and his muscles ached, his sore cock glued to the sheet in a puddle of dried cum. He stumbled into his bathroom and stood under the shower, the warm water washing away the dried sweat and love juices caked on his body. "Man, what a dream," he wondered aloud. "That was so intense... how did I keep a woody that long?" He paused, "Wait a minute" he mumbled, "I fucked a statue last night, how could I...?'"
Drying himself quickly, Mitch removed the ghoul poster and stared at the crawl space door. Grabbing his keys, he unlocked the door with trembling fingers and turned on the light. There was the statue, exactly where he and his friends had put it, its carved face smiling in the glare of the bulb. Had he looked more closely, he would have seen pubic hairs clinging to the statues anatomically correct crotch. He closed and locked the door, replaced the poster and began dressing for work.
"Dude, you look like shit," exclaimed Bobby as they waited for their daily courier assignments. "You go out again after we left?"
"Yeah," Johnnie chimed in, "Didn't you get any sleep last night, man? Your eyes look like they're packed for a long trip. Get it, bags, packed." He laughed at his own joke as Mitch drained his third cup of coffee, trying to get his energy level up to face the day.
How could he tell them he'd spent the entire night fucking a statue. He wasn't sure that he had done it himself, but how else to explain his sore dick and this fatigue. He shook his head and tried to concentrate on what the dispatcher was saying.
Two nights passed and Mitch slept fitfully through each one, anticipating and fearing the return of his mysterious lover. He wanted desperately to fuck her and yet he was frightened of the uncontrollable orgasms that utterly consumed him. Then on the third night she appeared again, body gleaming in the darkness, a half smile on her pale face as she glided onto Mitch's bed.
"Did you miss me, my young one?" her voice purred in Mitch's mind as her glowing form slid sinuously over his naked body. His stiff cock quivered as if anticipating its immersion in his lovers' hot cunt. Mitch nodded, unable to speak as their lips met in a passionate kiss. Her body seemed warmer somehow, more supple, her soft lips and tongue taking easy possession of his mouth.
Straddling her nighttime lover, she spread her legs and buried his rigid cock to the hilt in her tight pussy. Her moans echoed in his brain as she wrapped her slim legs around his waist, grinding her pelvis against him, her tender pink walls rippling along the rock hard intruder. Filling his mouth with warm tit flesh, Mitch thrust eagerly into the blonde-haired woman, fucking like a runaway machine as she spurted waves of cum past his dick and onto his thighs.
Then he heard the woman's' voice ringing in his head. "Ohhhh, fuck me hard my young lover, fuck meee..." Mitch's cock pulsed as her cries overwhelmed his senses. His hips jerked as his stiff rod blasted thick ropes of cum deep in his lovers gushing slit. Her gripping pussy continued to milk his still rigid dick as their orgasms ripped through them until he finally spiraled into darkness.
When Mitch awoke, he was more stiff and sore than he was after his last lovemaking. Although he stood in the shower until the hot water was gone, he could not seem to get warm. Bobby and Johnny were amazed when Mitch walked in the door of the employees' entrance wearing wool pants and a ski jacket.
"Mitch, dude," said Bobby incredulously. "What are you dressed like that for?"
"Yeah, man," Johnny added, tugging at the insulated garment. "It's gotta be ninety degrees out there. You're gonna sweat yourself to death."
"I'm just a little chilled this morning," Mitch mumbled, heading for the coffee pot. "I slept with the windows open last night, must have caught a virus or something."
In the darkness of the crawl space, the statue carefully moved her softening arms and legs, a guttural laugh emerging from her pliant lips.
"Mom, hey mom," Mitch called as he climbed the stairs to his parents kitchen, "you guys up there?"
"I'm here Mitch," Anne Ricker replied. "Your father is at the club playing in the golf tournament. She kissed her son on the cheek, "What can I help you with, stranger?"
"Could I, could I sleep in my old room tonight?" Mitch stammered, his body shaking. "I think I caught a cold, I can't get warm."
Anne's motherly instincts kicked in. He may have been a grown man, but he was still her little boy. "Of course you can sweetie", she replied. "I'll put some sheets and blankets on the bed so you'll be all cozy and warm tonight. How about some hot chocolate, do you need some aspirins?"
Mitch crawled under the covers in his old bedroom, enjoying the warmth of the three wool blankets. His mother had fussed and fluttered around him all day, bringing him cups of hot drinks and little snacks, asking repeatedly if he was comfortable. It was as if he was ten years old again and sick with the chicken pox. His father had decided to have dinner at the club and his mother was watching TV in the den. Mitch decided to go to bed early, as he was still tired and stiff. 'I'll be safe here' he thought as he drifted into sleep.
Throaty laughter echoing in his brain snapped Mitch awake; his pink-skinned lover was straddling his naked body, sliding his rigid dick into her sopping pussy. He tried to scream but the sound would not emerge from his throat. Once again, his hips surged upward, driving his rigid pole deep in his lovers' eager cunt, her soft whimpers echoing through his spinning mind. 'How did she get up here?" he wondered, panic overtaking him. 'What is she? What does she want, other than to fuck me?'
He found he could move his arms and desperately hugged the woman's body to his own. Her warmth felt wonderful on his cold skin. His cold lips and tongue suckled and laved her warm breasts, his teeth biting on the stiff nipples. Her clasping pussy engulfed his rigid cock as she ground her throbbing clit into his wiry pubic hair. As they continued to fuck, her voice spoke soothingly into his ear. "I'm almost ready, my darling, I'm almost there. Fuck me harder, harder. Ohhhh, I'm there, I'm there. At last I'm freeeee..."
Mitch pumped load after load of sticky cum into his lovers' warm pussy, thrusting repeatedly into her as she soaked his dick and crotch with her glistening juices. He felt as if his very essence was spurting out of his dick into his mystery woman as his body became rigid and she dissolved into a pearlescent mist.
"Find someone as I did," said the woman's' voice in Mitch's brain as he swirled into blackness. "Find someone and take their life force. The Statues Curse is eternal, but it is not permanent to any one person. Free yourself as I have done. I'm freeeee..."
"What would you like for breakfast, Mitch?" called Anne gaily, opening the door to his room. The bed was empty. "Mitch, where are you," she cried, looking wildly about. Seeing a lump in the bed, she flung the covers back. She screamed and screamed until her throat was raw as she stared at the shriveled husk that had been her son.
The semi pulled to the edge of the road with a hiss of air brakes. Jody normally didn't pick up hitchhikers, but he couldn't pass up such a pretty girl. "Where to, darlin'," he asked, tipping his Stetson as the young blonde-haired woman swung easily into the cab. Her feet were bare and she was oddly dressed, almost as if she has swiped clothes from somebody's wash line.
She flashed him a sunny smile and said, "The names Rosalie, cowboy. I'm goin' where you're goin', anywhere else but here." Jody smiled back, putting the truck in gear and driving away.
"What an amazingly detailed statue," exclaimed the young woman, "Where did you get it?"
"It was found three years ago hidden in the basement of a vacant house here in town," the flea market vendor replied. "The former owners must have collected things from graveyards, mostly tombstones and other creepy stuff except for this fellow here. The new owners didn't care for it so I bought it from them."
"This would look perfect in my garden," the young woman said, patting the carved arm of the thing that was once Mitch Ricker. "Look, he has the loveliest smile."