Free Sacrificing Virgins by John Everson Page A

her index finger over the “head” of the stone implement. “Well, you got nailed, that’s one thing for sure…”
    Again the hair on the back of her neck stood up, as if a snake had slithered across her skin. Natalie gripped the ancient sex relic hard and trained the flashlight in her other hand back and forth across the ground. Slowly, she began to back out of the room and into the narrow tunnel that she’d entered the buried room through.
    When she wiggled her way back out into the sunlight and the garden, she stood on the edge of the plot and looked around at the weeding she’d been doing. She knew that she should get back on her knees and pull more of the weeds that were choking out her fledgling squash vines. But that pragmatic idea didn’t hold water for a second. Instead, Natalie trembled as the words “get back on her knees” ran through her head. She absently ran a finger up and down the stone shaft in her hand and thought about going back to the house and getting out of her sweaty clothes. She thought about what the thing in her hand might have been used for once. And as she did so…she felt the sweat gather faster, trickling down her back and siphoning down into the channel of her ass.
    Natalie blinked twice, fast. It was almost as if something snapped inside her. And then without another thought, she was walking up the hill and back to the house. Once she got inside, after she stripped off her clothes in the bedroom, turned on the water and stepped into the shower in the master bath, she reached for the shampoo…and realized she still had the stone in her hand.
    Thinking fleetingly of hygiene, but even more of how amazing the sensation might be, she squeezed her shampoo over the smooth white stone and with her fingers spread it all around the cool carved surface. When it was fully slicked in soap, she held the ancient dildo by its carved balls and began to stroke her hand up and down the shaft, urging the soap along it to kill a millennium of bacteria. At least, that was the conscious thought she told herself. She was cleaning the relic, she thought, as the stem where its balls were, moved ever closer to her body until the stone cock pressed against her groin and seemed to emanate from her. In moments, she stood beneath the spray of the shower with the stone cock protruding from her body as if she were an excited male. Her hand worked the thing as if she could coax cum from a stone.
    She felt overcome with lust in those moments, her eyes closed, her body…somewhere else. And then hesitantly, shakily, she turned off the water, halfheartedly toweled herself off, and then went and lay down on the bed without dressing. Instead, she reached into the nightstand for a bottle. She repeated the actions she’d done with the soap, and the room filled with the scent of baby oil as she lathered the polished stone head of the thing in her hand before she slipped it between her thighs. Slowly.
    Slowly.
    But then faster. For a moment, she felt almost as if the room had slipped away, and she was being taken hard and rough by a thin man in a room with colored stones…
    Natalie didn’t weed the garden anymore that day.
    â€œWhat’s for dinner?” Crisofer called a couple hours later, and Natalie woke with a start on the bed.
    She felt fuzzy and groggy, but when consciousness really kicked in and she heard her husband’s voice and suddenly realized that there was a hard piece of cool stone in her hand, her eyes went wide as the events of the afternoon came back to her. Quickly she rolled out of the bed and dropped the stone phallus into the nightstand. She fled to the bathroom, and pulled a robe from the door. She met Crisofer in the kitchen a minute later, apologizing profusely about falling asleep on the bed after being out in the heat.
    â€œCan we maybe just go out for pizza?” she asked.
    He smiled that lopsided grin he had, and said,