Story Two
Stone Cold Love Part 2
Start date: 22/05/2024
Finish date: 04/11/2024
Word Count: 3,789
Themes:
(Visually) older human man, (visually) younger grotesque/gargoyle woman, monster woman, buff woman, somnophilia, male and female masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering
Blurb:
Rue couldn't wait for his normal visit time. How could he stay away now that he knew Fyra, the gargoyle- pardon, grotesque in the castle ruins came alive at night?
He was staying past sundown.
He would see the colour come back into her hair, her eyes. He would feel the softness and warmth of her skin.
Damn, the sunset sure is taking it's time...
He has to touch her now!
How soon was too soon? Rue used to find her once a month, but now knowing Fyra was alive. Alive and all by herself, he had to go sooner.
He didn't bother packing a note this time. What was the point of writing them in the first place? At first they stated the obvious of the food and how to prepare, and that he would be back to collect the next day. As time went on, they became more like letters than notes. The statue a pen pal that never responded.
Learning Fyra was illiterate was almost a relief. The things he had written. He cringed at the very thought. Why he felt compelled to tell a statue his life's story was beyond him. And yet... she ate the food. She took the clothes.
Rue loaded up the esky into the car. He glanced back at the sun. Not yet ready to set, but much later than he'd usually go. It was normally mid day so he had the time to search. Today though, he decided to leave later, and linger.
As he drove along the dirt track on his property, he thought about how he owed his profession to her. Fyra turned to stone by day but her clothes did not. They were ragged and didn't have much left in them. His mother thought it odd her teenage son's sudden desire to sew, but she taught him anyway.
He was terrified the first time he left her something to wear. Did he get the size right? Could she get it around her wings? Trial and error, he learned what styles she preferred. She hadn't refused new clothes in decades.
With the world almost completely shutting down during the pandemic, Rue was fortunate enough he could bring his work home. Not all the time did he work, though. He had some great experiments with designs for Fyra he decided were more important some days.
He parked the car in the usual spot. Grabbed the esky from the back and entered the ruin walls, ready for his search of Fyra.
He knew her spots. Knew the route to join every roosting spot for a smooth walk through the ruins to find her. Well, almost every spot. Sometimes he couldn't find her and that frustrated him to high hell. Where was that last spot? It didn't matter, today she was inside one of the gatehouses.
It felt different seeing her statue for the first time since her visit. She rested in the broken frame of one of the openings. Whether or not it was broken from age or because she liked to look at the view and forced it to fit her was unimportant.
Her hair was dull, lacking it's fire. Blending in with the colour of her skin. Her eyes glossed over, the ever changing pupil dissolved into the nothingness of stone. But her smile. She was smiling for once.
Rue put the esky down as he approached her. Was there something out there? Did she let the sun freeze her smile as she enjoyed the view? What was the view?
He looked out over the top of her head, trying to see what she saw. The only thing he took notice of, was maybe she was looking in the direction of his home?
"Couldn't be." He thought as he shook his head. "There was probably something there at sunrise that's gone now."
There was enough of a space in front of Fyra, he took a seat before her and gazed upon her. All this time, beneath that stone was a living, breathing person. What would he have done differently with his life if he really knew she was alive? What a fool he was not staying to learn why this statue kept moving.
Still not quite time for sunset, Rue felt the chill creep into his bones. How could she be content and warm wearing only a loincloth and crop top? He placed his hand on her knee to check for heat.
Stone cold.
There was nothing alive about her now. Yet that smile. That smile that had never been there before when he visited.
Ugh, how it infuriated him to see her so dull! She had life! The glittering green of her eyes, the burning blaze of hair upon her head! All she was now was a flat, humdrum beige of stone. Could the sun really not set any faster?!
He wanted her tail to twirl, her wings to flutter, air to breathe under her breast!
And he caught himself on that thought: Her breasts. Hardened under the soft fabric of her clothes.
...
How smooth were they as stone?
Looking around first for anyone that might catch him in the act, Rue stood, his fingers trailing along Fyra's curvature of stone leg as he drew himself closer.
Her face was frozen, turned away from him, admiring the view. The view Rue was admiring however, was directly below him. Hidden from prying eyes and any self respecting person that wouldn't fondle a statue. Alas, he was not that person.
His fingers traced along her collarbone and dipped beneath the fabric. Gliding over the round smoothness of her breast. He flicked and pinched at her nipple. It was hard, but not the fun kind.
He could feel the heat and pressure of his cock throbbing in his pants. He rolled his hips along Fyra's arm. Her coldness seeping away as his warm body enveloped her.
Rue unzipped himself. Holding her head while pointing his tip in her direction as if preparing her to let it down her throat. How would it feel with her teeth?
He imagined her being careful. Of Fyra's decadent tongue swirling around him. Of her eyes dilated in the ecstasy of his taste.
Rue recoiled as her cold cheek struck his tip. Seems he was a little too sensitive to enjoy her stone skin.
"No, I can take it." He demanded of himself, pressing a wet little kiss from his cock to her lips.
Fuck, can she wake up already?
He opened her shirt so he could get the view of her breasts, but her hands stole his interest. There they lay, in her lap. Openly cupped.
"You could have left it on me, on my hand, so I could use it later." Echoed Fyra's words in his mind.
Rue pumped his cock harder, with one hand desperately kneading one of her stone tits. His knees became weak. He tried preparing himself to aim.
His moan echoed through the empty halls of the ruins while he relieved himself into Fyra's hand... tried to, at least. Some went up her arm, most was in her hand, though.
He caught his breath while leaning against her. Looking out to the dark landscape.
Where was the sun?
He pushed away from her, astounded at his mess.
She said it was fine, right? She said it was okay to do this.
Panic took over and he bolted around the corner and out of sight. If she were to wake up to that mess and he still be standing right in front of her...
He zipped himself back up, panting against the wall. The sun was setting any second now. She's seconds away from waking.
Faint chips and cracks formed on her tail. Her legs burst out straight, her wings flapped and outstretched, stretching from a pleasant day of slumber.
