When I was a high school teacher, I used to take odd jobs to supplement my income. My favorite one was working for a small business in Washington, DC, run by my friend Hector. You know those people who pretend to be statues? They paint themselves to look like they’re made of steel or marble and remain motionless. It turns out there’s a market for that, and people routinely hire Hector for parties. He’d stand in the corner, statuesque, holding a tray of appetizers. Occasionally, I’d join him if he had a job that required two statues. It was easy money.
One day, Hector got a call from Becky, who ran a dental practice. She had 15 employees, all female, and was organizing their holiday party. She requested two male statues to hold appetizer trays as the women arrived. We could leave once the party got fully underway. Becky specifically asked for handsome guys and wanted to vet us by photo.
Hector gave his standard disclaimer, “I just want to be clear; this is a fully clothed business.”
She laughed and said, “Yes, it’s a professional dental practice. We don’t want nudity, but we don’t mind something appealing to look at.”
Hector sent her our photos, and she immediately responded, “Great, thank you. Looking forward to it!” Brief, positive, and professional.
On the day of the event, we dug through his supply closet and assembled our statue costumes. Hector went Greek, painted as white marble and draped in olive branches. I was steel, entirely bright silver. I’m physically fit, with strong legs from running and good muscle tone elsewhere. To be honest, my costume wasn’t much of a costume at all—just boxer briefs with my entire body painted silver.
My cock is large when erect (7.2″) with a thick base that most women cannot close their hand around, yet is pretty normal-sized in its relaxed state. So I judged that in my relaxed state, my costume would be perceived as non-pornographic yet visually appealing. Hector’s costume was definitely safe, but we brought some extra clothing just in case Becky thought mine was too explicit.
When we arrived, we met Becky. She had a Wonder Woman vibe with long black hair, white skin, red lips, and a voluptuous, feminine body. If anything, she outdid Wonder Woman. I tried to be nonchalant, chatting to my childhood crush. She took a quick look at our costumes and immediately deemed them perfect, though she didn’t give any more hints about how she felt. Again, her comments were brief, positive, and professional.
We took our positions, and the women started to arrive. As the night wore on and the liquor flowed, the atmosphere became less professional. It turned into a bunch of women on wine night. They started to get playful and raunchy. I couldn’t see what was going on with Hector—remember, I’m not supposed to turn my head—but the women were making salacious comments about my muscular legs, shoulders, neck, and jawline. Each woman upped the ante. When they’d get their appetizer, they’d run their hands up and down my arms. One of them touched my chest and stomach and reported back, “Yep, he’s steel all right!”
Becky, being the boss, knew she had to one-up her employees. She stood directly in front of me and said, “Look at this specimen we purchased.” She pressed her ample breasts against me, nuzzled her face into my neck, and then breathed softly into my ear, “I am wet.”
She slid downward as if to go toward the ground. I felt my boxer shorts beginning to strain.
Becky let out a laugh and said, “Wow, ladies, our sculptor used generous proportions here.” She knelt down and pulled my underwear down, softly placing the head of my penis in her mouth. I instinctively knew she was teasing her employees by leaving my cock mostly exposed so they could see the still-developing length. Their beautiful boss knelt there, softly sucking on my swollen head.
At this point, the pretense was done. But Becky wanted her employees to know she was still in charge. She eased me down onto the ground, lifted her dress, and sank down onto me. She was so wet inside—firm, slick, warm. Her employees were laughing and cheering her on. I looked around to see what Hector was doing and saw him kissing another woman. She led him by the hand into another room, and two women followed. But most of them stayed in our room. They wanted to see their boss pleasuring herself atop the steel statue she had “purchased.”
I braced my arms against her chest so she could reach down and touch her clit. She slid up and down, her large breasts swaying to visual perfection. She ground herself against me over and over until finally, she came hard. I could feel her contracting, wave after wave, onto my thick cock.
When she recovered, I turned her over so I could enter her missionary style on the ground. One of the women came up to us and gently laid her head on Becky’s stomach. I’ll call her “Accessory Woman.” It was tantalizing to know that Accessory Woman’s mouth was inches from where I was fucking Becky. I could feel the warmth of her exhale. She could hear the sounds and smell the sex. Occasionally, I would feel Accessory Woman’s soft tongue sweep across my shaft, across Becky’s puffy vaginal lips, and then dance across her sensitive clit. I looked down and saw Becky wearing this incredible smile. That perfect Wonder Woman face, just beaming.
As I got closer to orgasm, I debated. I urgently desired to come inside her, but the other women deserved a show. So I compromised. I pulled out to deliver the first shot publicly. One continuous stream arced upward, reaching to Becky’s breasts, with the tail end landing on Accessory Woman’s hair and neck. Accessory Woman wiped it onto her fingers, putting them into her mouth for a taste. For the second shot, I plowed back inside, slid past her cervix, and delivered into her posterior fornix. I let out a primal scream. I held my cock motionless inside her slick walls as it continued to convulse.