Sex Court - Episode 7

The statute rises over the garden like a naked woman carved from pale marble. Her arms lift high, breasts pointed, hips cocked as if she’s mid-moan. A thin gold chain hangs from her wrist. It glints when the sun hits it. You sit on the bench below her. Your hand moves between your thighs, slow, circling the heat that’s already slick. The marble thigh is warm from the sun, and you lean in until your mouth brushes the stone cunt. The lips are carved with obscene care—parted, swollen, the clit a small hard bead you can trace with your tongue. You taste cool stone and faint salt from your own skin. Your fingers slide lower, two of them pushing inside. The statue’s shadow falls across your lap. You fuck yourself in time with the way the chain swings, each clink of metal matching the wet sound your cunt makes when your fingers thrust deeper. A small crow lands on the statue’s shoulder. It watches you, head tilted. You spread wider, letting it see the way your thumb drags over your clit, the way your hips lift to meet your own hand. Your breath comes faster. The stone between your lips is smooth, unyielding, and you grind against it until your thighs shake. You come with your mouth open against cold marble and your cunt pulsing around your fingers. The chain keeps swinging. The crow flies off. You stay there, breathing, until the heat in your belly settles and your skin cools against the stone.