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When The Cat's Away

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Thighs trembling, Diana clenched her pussy around the thick cock spurting inside her. She moaned, dug fingernails into her lover’s thighs, and gripped him while her body quaked. Muscle spasms rippled through her loins and her pussy throbbed in time with her racing pulse as she rode the waves. Finally, the tremors ebbed and, relaxing, she released him. His cock slipped from her soaking cunt.

Diana flopped back on the leather chaise longue. Breathing hard, she relished the delightful aftershocks and the wild drumming of her heart. She watched her lover stretch and shake juices from his cock. Then he rubbed the reddened crescent marks on his thighs and, smiling, kissed her lightly before taking his leave.

Let him go, she was done with him. Number eight – or was it nine? – had fucked her well but Diana was still horny and craved someone new. Let me see… She surveyed the bawdy scene within the vast hall: naked couples, threesomes, more… all writhing and groaning. Every couch was occupied, every animal skin rug littered with heaped, tangled limbs and sweating torsos – a smorgasbord of carnal delights.

A heady cocktail of sex and alcohol hung thick in the air and Diana’s gaze settled on the oversized table against the far wall. Heaving with jugs of wine and platters of delicacies, its unending supplies fuelled the shameless activities. She flicked her tongue over dry lips, contemplating the refreshments until distracted by another captivating sight. Hello handsome. Muscular, with rich caramel skin and thick wavy hair, a man she’d not seen before gripped the banqueting table while an older man fucked him from behind, cock plunging deep with vigorous strokes.

Fascinated, Diana watched. The salacious antics further stimulated her sex-crazed mind and, salivating, she fondled her bullet-hard nipples, pinched them teasingly between finger and thumb. Moving one hand lower, she stroked her pussy. Fresh juices lubricated her fast-moving fingers.

“Need some help?”

Gasping, Diana turned to find a pretty doe-eyed girl standing beside her.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” The girl had the smoothest pale skin and ruby-red lips as plump as a cherub’s. She smiled coyly and twirled a lock of lustrous auburn hair. “Well, do you?”

Intrigued, Diana nodded mutely.

“Okay then. Relax.”

Diana shivered and her eyes fluttered closed as Doe-Eyes languidly trailed fingertips over her breasts, her touch soft and sensual. The girl caressed her nipples, circling gently and grazing fingernails over each bud. Stooping, she kissed both nipples in turn and Diana quivered as warm breath blew over the sensitive flesh.

“So beautiful,” Doe-Eyes whispered. “May I taste your sweet pussy?” Without waiting for permission, she ducked between Diana’s thighs, auburn curls spilling out like tongues of fire. “Ooh…You’re wet.”

The first rasp was an utter delight; each subsequent lap more divine than the one before. Diana moaned as Doe-Eyes licked and sucked, her velvety tongue probing every soft crevice, every intimate fold. She toyed with Diana’s clit, nibbling gently, then drove deep inside to lap up the cum Diana’s lovers had left. Diana tensed, her highly-stimulated body galloping like a racehorse towards yet another orgasm.

“Don’t come yet,” Doe-Eyes whispered.

What? Diana gritted her teeth. The tiniest movement of Doe-Eyes’ agile tongue sent tingles dancing through her pussy; each sucking slurp fanned flames that already scorched. She arched her back, hips automatically bucking. “Please, I have to—”

“Not yet. Shush…” Doe-Eyes reached out to pinch Diana’s nipples while simultaneously sucking hard on her clit.

“Please,” Diana begged. “I must…”

Doe-Eyes kept sucking but Diana felt her nod. Thank goodness. Letting go, a wave of bliss surged through her. More followed in a constant flow as if she’d short-circuited. She curled fingers in Doe-Eyes’ hair while shuddering violently, every muscle contracting simultaneously. Yelping, she clenched her thighs around the girl’s head.

“Stop,” she sobbed. “Please!”

Popping her head up, Doe-Eyes grinned with juice-slathered lips. “Too much?” She let out a tinkling laugh. “And what about me? Is it my turn?” Kneeling over Diana, Doe-Eyes gently parted her labia. Moisture dripped from the soft folds.

“Allow me.”

A tall man stepped from behind a pillar, a few feet away. Fisting an impressive erection, he moved closer and Diana sniffed the musky tang of the pre-cum seeping from his swollen tip. How delicious, thick and throbbing. She longed to slip it into her mouth or, better still, impale herself upon it. But the man had Doe-Eyes in his sights. Turning her around, he raised her arse to meet his erection and plunged inside.

Jealousy left a bitter taste in Diana’s mouth as Doe-Eyes received a slow, steady fuck. She wanted that. Surrounded by randy men and women, she could easily find another partner, but she wanted this man. This cock. Now. Incensed yet enthralled, she failed to notice a statuesque woman invading the scene. Nor, amazingly, did she see the outrageous phallus strapped to the woman’s groin until she stood behind the man and lined it up with his anus. Diana gawked as the woman grasped the thrusting man’s hips and nudged her cock against his entrance.

“Shall I?” said the woman in low, husky tones. “Do you want this?”

The man paused and Doe-Eyes turned her head, frowning at the interruption. Her lover, however, had other matters on his mind. Cock still buried inside Doe-Eyes, he braced, then relaxed, allowing the intruder to carefully penetrate his anus. Even then, he winced and Diana saw him shift his weight as the phallus was eased deeper. A groan rumbled in his throat when the cock finally filled him.

What a spectacle. The threesome began to move – slowly at first, finding a rhythm. They built up speed, the man pounding Doe-Eyes, the woman pounding him. Diana’s pussy throbbed and she touched her aching slit, quickly sliding fingers inside. But it wasn’t enough. She needed to fuck. Fuck hard. With no place for her in this threesome, she crept off the chaise longue and scurried away in search of cock.

Sex was everywhere she looked. A broad-chested, ebony-skinned man reclined on a bench having his cock sucked by a petite blond male. Two raven-haired women lay mouth to snatch, eating each other’s pussies like the starving would devour cake. A curvaceous, older lady sat astride a slender gent. She whooped and yelled, riding him like a cowgirl on acid. Sex! Everywhere sex. The smell of it, the exhibitionistic freedom… clothes discarded willy-nilly, cocks and cunts on public display with nobody caring. Utterly delicious.

Blinded by lust, Diana accosted the nearest available male.

“Fuck me… right now,” she demanded.

“What?”

“Fuck me. Now.”

She fumbled for his cock. Flaccid. Damn it! Huffing, she dropped to her knees and stuffed the soft tube into her mouth. She sucked hard, massaging his balls while working her oral magic. “Good?” she mumbled without disengaging.

The man muttered agreement and grabbed the back of a bench to steady himself. Encouraged, Diana continued. She licked along his shaft and swirled her tongue over his tip before devouring him again. His cock twitched, pulsed, and swelled impressively against her tongue. Mouth filled, she took him deep into her throat, head bobbing back and forth.

“I, erm…” the man spluttered. “I think I can—”

“Great.”

Spitting him out, Diana flipped onto her hands and knees, arse in the air. Oh yes…yes. Umm… She moaned lustily, welcoming the haste with which he delivered the delectable squeeze of penetration. He wasn’t a bad size, stretching her pussy quite adequately for what she needed – a hard and fast fuck. Instant gratification.

Cum dripped down Diana’s thighs when the man withdrew and, giggling, she scooped up a glob and popped it into her mouth.

“Dirty slut.”

Diana looked up. A man leaned against the banqueting table, grinning broadly.

“Yes, you,” he said. “I’ve been watching, you know.”

“Have you, indeed?”

The man had a bizarre garland of vine leaves tied around his head - his only attire. Nothing hid his large round belly or the shrivelled cock flopping feebly between fat thighs. Not the greatest first impression, but the mischievous twinkle in his eyes was strangely endearing.

“Wine?” the fat man asked, holding out a goblet.

“Thank you.” Giving her partner a parting pat on the posterior, Diana sauntered forward. She took the wine and sipped, letting it pool in her mouth.

“I think lover-boy needs a break,” said the fat man, smirking at Diana’s playmate who’d collapsed onto a sofa a few feet away. “Oh, dear.” He placed a fat finger against his belly and lowered it like a penis wilting. “You did a great job of reviving him once, but a second time…” Sucking air through his teeth, he slowly shook his head.

Diana drank, eyes unblinking. “You’re the man in charge, aren’t you?”

“In charge of what?”

“This grand building, the food and wine.”

“The food and wine, yes. Not the building.”

“Oh?” Diana waved an arm. “Not yours?”

“Don’t think so,” said the fat man, shrugging. “Hard to tell really.”

“But these people are with you, aren’t they? They’re your guests?”

“The ones that aren’t your guests.” The fat man scanned the room, gaze settling on two men urinating against a potted palm tree. He grimaced. “Can’t hold their drink but they’re a friendly bunch.”

“They certainly are.” Diana sipped more wine. It warmed her throat and made her head nicely muzzy. “My lot aren’t friendly. We barely speak most of the time.”

“That so? More?” The fat man topped up Diana’s goblet then filled his own. “Oops,” he said, spilling some over his bloated belly. Diana tittered and, on a whim, playfully licked the ruby liquid from his skin. “Blimey.” The fat man’s smile widened. “Well, if that’s your thing…” Grinning like a naughty schoolboy, he dipped his cock into his brimming goblet. “Fancy it?”

Hell, why not? Dropping to her knees again, Diana popped the soft cock between her lips. Sucking it was her pleasure. She gobbled greedily, giggling when he tipped more wine over his belly so it ran into her mouth. Giddy with pleasure, she expertly sucked and fondled until the fat man groaned and his cock swelled. A few more sucks and she felt him tense. His cum was as sweet as the wine and when she opened her mouth to show him his load, he roared with laughter.

“Did all right, didn’t I? Swallow it,” he said, nodding approvingly when Diana complied. Proffering a hand, he helped her to her feet. “Now then, how about entertaining me?”

“I thought I just did.”

“Uh-uh.” The fat man produced a dildo from behind his back and dangled it before her. “Use this and let me watch.” He swigged his drink. “Come on, entertain me. Show me what a dirty little slut you are.”

Diana tentatively took the dildo. Made of stuffed leather, it was solid and fatter than any of the cocks she’d fucked so far. She ran fingers over its contours, stroked it across her pussy.

“That’s it, Sweet-Cheeks play with it. Let me see what you can do.”

Heat surged through Diana’s veins, fiery as the alcohol in her belly.

“Fuck yourself. Let me see you slide that right to the hilt.”

Ooh… that would feel good. The throb in her pussy grew stronger, her fat voyeur’s words stimulating her appetite for depravity.

“Do it. Show me.”

Diana stroked the dildo over her clit – shuddered – pressed it against her groove. The fat man’s gaze burned into her flesh and loving it, she flipped a leg up onto the table, exposing her swollen pussy. Juices oozed from her slit.

“Filthy slut,” he muttered. “Now slide it inside.”

Diana didn’t like receiving orders but, on this occasion, the fat man’s insistence proved intensely arousing. Sighing, she presented the dildo to her opening and eased it between her lips.

“Oh yes, that’s it, all the way. Fuck yourself, dirty whore. Do it hard.”

Closing her eyes, Diana slid the dildo deep inside. It stretched her, filled her, rubbed her G-spot exactly right. Ooh… it did feel good. With the fat man calling her slut and harlot, she went as deep as she dared. Oh, yes. Withdrawing, she plunged again… again… until her body shook, knees buckled. Crumpling to the floor, she continued fucking on the flagstones, hips bucking to meet her thrusts.

“That’s it, yes. Keep going… more.”

Only vaguely aware of him standing over her, Diana paid no heed when the fat man ejaculated onto her writhing body. She fucked herself vigorously, the huge toy surprisingly satisfying. When her orgasm peaked, it hit hard. She shook like a leaf in a storm.

Gradually coming down, she heard the fat man applaud. Diana wiped her brow and grinned. “Did I entertain you?”

“You certainly did. Now, up you get off that cold floor, you daft trollop.”

Too breathless to move unaided, Diana accepted the fat man’s help and slumped beside him on an oak bench. A fresh wine goblet was passed her way and she drank gratefully. Around her, the orgy continued unabated: grunts, moans, squeals.

The fat man stroked her knee and, half-dreaming, Diana noticed the light reflected on his face – not the golden glow of the artificial lights, but the cold shimmer of daylight. Gasping, she spun around to peer through the window behind her. The sky was grey, a low sun smudging the misty horizon with pale yellow. No… She touched her face and, sure enough, her skin had cooled.

“Time,” she murmured. She turned to the fat man. “It’s time!” She pointed outside. “See?”

The fat man frowned. “Hey, listen!” He banged a fist hard on the bench, the sudden noise cutting through the clamour. The orgy ceased abruptly; the participants stared. “Time’s up,” he said, gesturing to the window.

A chorus of sighs and shaking heads quickly turned into frantic movement. The revellers returned plates and goblets to the banqueting table. Sofas and benches were righted, cushions plumped, and wine spillages mopped. Skin was sluiced with water to wash away bodily secretions, hair tidied. Claiming their clothes from a huge pile, the owners dressed hurriedly and checked each other’s appearance. Sex toys were carefully hidden inside the folds of dresses and tunics.

Diana found her clothes and did her share of tidying but her back ached and her muscles were sore. Tired, she took a moment to sip her wine. She leaned against a wall watching the activity around the banqueting table. The fat man picked grapes and slurped his drink while overseeing the replacement of goblets, wine, and food. He barked orders to his minions and fussed over details until, miraculously, the restored banquet appeared untouched. Catching Diana’s eye, he raised a toast in her direction.

Diana smiled. She liked him. The fat man and his entourage had made quite a difference to the annual get-together. A huge difference. She squeezed her thighs together, savouring the tingling soreness between them. What fun she’d had. But she couldn’t linger.

Walking stiffly across the room, she scooped up a bow and quiver from the foot of an ornate marble plinth. Swinging the quiver over her shoulder, she mounted the pedestal. There, she surveyed the polished flagstones and vaulted roof of the Great Hall. Daylight streamed through the tall windows and movement had virtually ceased now. Her friends stood atop their pedestals, prepared for the end.

The end… Time was up. The fat man sat at the head of the banqueting table, his entourage around him. The doe-eyed girl sat opposite, auburn locks spilling over her shoulders. Diana watched her exchange winks with the fat man then, raising their goblets, the entire party held their poses while the table merged into the stone wall it stood against. Colours faded – the wine, the bright clothing, the sumptuous food – until the banquet, the fat man and his friends, became a soft uniform sandstone.

Diana hurriedly straightened her tunic, tightened her belt and tidied her wild, unruly hair. She adopted a bold stance, bow held aloft. With the rising sun glinting off her skin, smooth as marble, she exhaled – but suddenly gasped. No! She still clutched the goblet in her other hand. Swiftly, she tucked it inside her tunic. Just in time. Keys rattled in a lock as Diana, giggling, resumed her pose. The wickedest smile curved her lips.

*

As soon as his phone showed 08:00, Kevin unlocked the Great Hall and pushed the doors wide. He looked around anxiously. He hated switching off the internal CCTV, doing so seemed like madness. Still, the museum hadn’t burned down and, it appeared, the statues hadn’t been stolen or vandalised.

Breathing easier, he strolled around admiring the glistening marble figures. They were exquisite. He never dreamed Lady Winthrop would bequeath the statues to him and their addition to his museum was a joyous delight. Twelve life-size, hand-sculpted statues of Roman Deities – not actually Roman, like his exhibits, but beautiful none the less. They were a valuable addition to the Great Hall, flanking the priceless Roman frieze of Bacchus’s feast – his pride and joy.

Marching onward, he eyed the frieze, never tiring of the beautifully carved sandstone figures, food and wine. Lady Winthrop had loved it too. He recalled how she’d admire it, saying it captured her imagination. She’d study every detail and chatter to Kevin about the fun her statues would have if introduced to fat Bacchus and his naughty entourage. The poor old dear, she loved her statues and was convinced they came alive when no one was around. All carvings did, according to her. Ridiculous childish fancy, of course, but Kevin would smile and nod. He liked the old lady and evidently, she had been fond of him.

The terms of the bequest were typically eccentric:

“Close the museum one day per year to allow my statues a day of freedom. When the cat’s away, the mice will play – but only when the cat’s truly gone. No peeping! Switch off all surveillance and no internal alarms for twenty-four hours. Let them roam, let them play.”

Poor love. She was a sandwich short of a picnic.

Kevin lingered beside Diana, his favourite statue. He marvelled at her striking figure and thick, wavy hair. Wouldn’t it be lovely if they did come alive? His thoughts drifted… quite something. No wonder the old lady had wished it. As for her mad instructions – what was one day? He’d previously opened his museum year-round but never had many customers on Christmas Day. Strange, in his opinion. The Romans played a big part in the Nativity, didn’t they? Each to their own.

With no loss of custom to speak of, signing a contract to close on Christmas Day wasn’t a big deal. Turning off the surveillance equipment and burglar alarms, however… that was the stuff of Kevin’s nightmares. Other custodians might have willingly switched off the cameras when the museum closed on Christmas Eve, gone home and enjoyed the time away from work.

Not Kevin. He loved his museum and twenty-four hours away from his precious exhibits was sleepless agony. But he was a man of his word and took Lady Winthrop’s wishes seriously. From 08:00 Christmas morning to 08:00 Boxing Day covered the stipulated twenty-four hours and he stuck to it. He always would.

Kevin drew breath then exhaled slowly. Nothing untoward had happened. All was well. Or was it? He sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose at a strange smell. The pong was coming from his potted palm – probably overwatered with the excess stagnating in the ceramic base. Making a mental note, he returned his gaze to Diana.

Stunning: so lifelike, so sexy. He leaned closer – had she always smiled like that? And why was there a stone goblet protruding from her tunic? He ran fingers over the intricate carving. Hmm… he’d never noticed before. Kevin scratched his chin, thought for a moment, then shrugged. Whistling, he continued his rounds.

 

 

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