Modeling Clay

Sean arrived at the opening late. His boss at the bar had demanded he stay an extra hour for inventory, but at least he was compensated well for the extra time. He hoped Julie would understand. His girlfriend was debuting her first collection. Sean was glad about this for a couple of reasons.

First, it meant that she would stop droning on about it each and every day. The lead up to the opening had been hectic for Julie, but also costly for the young couple. She surrounded herself with her artist friends who all demanded special lighting and fancy drinks. Julie had a patron who funded most of the opening, but that did not stop her from dipping into her own pockets. Each time she and Sean argued about money, she reminded him that selling a single work would prove a return on their investment.

Secondly, Sean hoped that a successful first showing would return sanity to his girlfriend. They had started dating several years before, just out of college. Sean had been unable to find work right away in his field of choice, but found a surprisingly lucrative job at a midtown bar while moonlighting as a tech consultant for several small businesses. Julie, meanwhile, did some work for an art enthusiast widow who decided to fund the creative works of several artists. The old woman took on Julie as well, providing her a stipend as she worked towards a full exhibit. The young couple struggled, but survived.

The opening was held in a small studio constructed primarily of glass. Brilliant yellow light radiated out from the otherwise dark buildings as Sean approached. He tried to smooth out his hair and pointlessly dabbed at a small grease stain on the cuff of his shirt. At the door a security guard checked his name off of a list with a rather disdainful look. Sean was on the shorter side, but kept himself fit, finding time in the gym when he could. He mostly relied on the constant need to move kegs, crates, and racks at work. He also believed himself to be a handsome man. He had a short, black beard and cropped hair. Though he did very little to stand out stylistically, he believed a well groomed, classic approach should be enough. Still, he worried that he smelled of bar food and spilled whiskey.

Passing through the foyer, he saw a small stand with a pamphlet and a picture of Julie. The pamphlet described the exhibit and gave a small biography of his girlfriend. Glancing through it, he saw no mention of himself, but a great deal of praise for art culture. Sean could not tell if the opening was dying down or if it was in full swing. Small groups of people stood in front of the various exhibits, seemingly comprised of the same three or four people. One, a tall woman with obnoxious earrings wearing a tight fitted and uncomfortably vibrant dress while holding a half empty glass of wine with a limp wrist. Two, a young man wearing an assortment of plaid, ironic clothes and accessories along with tight jeans and thick, black rimmed glasses. Three, an older man, rotund and bearded, making a tired attempt at still appearing youthful. Four, the most inconsistently present among the small pods, an older woman who was also trying to appear young, not for the sake of the other youth, but for herself and perhaps the older man. These were, as Sean had come to know them, the art crowd. He had nothing in common with any of them.

Sean scanned the crowd, searching for Julie, or at the very least someone he knew. Spotting her on the phone in a corner, he briskly walked over to her, hoping to avoid being sucked in to a discussion about one of the pieces. The art crowd had a particular quirk of roping in an innocent bystander such that they could extol their opinions on them. Julie noticed him, but didn’t smile as he approached. She pulled her phone away from her face for a moment to say, “Where have you been?!” in a harsh whisper. Immediately, she went back to her phone call lapsing into a flattering tone as she explained to whomever how wonderful the opening was going.

Sean waited patiently, watching his girlfriend’s exuberant conversation, but he knew her well enough to read between the lines. Things were not going well at all. Finally, she got off of the phone, and he leaned in to kiss her. She pulled back. “You smell terrible,” she said.

“Sorry,” Sean replied. “Had to come straight from work.”

Julie wrapped her arms around herself and stood rigidly in front of him, “You’ve done it again, Sean.”

He shrugged, “Done what?”

“I’ve told you for months that tonight was important to me. You were supposed to be here on time. That’s all. I didn’t ask for your help in one way other than pleading for you to be on time.”

“I had to stay late, Julie,” he said, annoyed. “I didn’t have a choice. And bullshit you haven’t asked me for anything, I’ve been helping you set all this up for weeks.”

Julie continued to stare at him, “You should want to help me.”

“I’m not doing this.” Sean shook his head and looked around. Several of the crowd were watching them. “I’m not arguing with you to make you feel better. I’m not going to indulge your guilt fantasy.”

Julie bent slightly. “I’m sorry. It’s been a horrible night. Everything has gone wrong and nothing has sold. That was Monica on the phone. I think she knows how poorly it’s gone. She sent her little spies, all these sycophantic mutts.” She moved to him, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tightly. “Sean, we need to talk about the rental fee.”

Sean pushed her away, “You already paid that?”

“Well, yes, we paid the deposit. The full price is eight thousand.”

Sean felt his heart drop. “Fuck, Julie, you said it was five hundred for the night. Eight fucking thousand?!”

“I thought I wouldn’t have to tell you,” she said, defiantly. “I thought one of the works would sell, and I could take care of it without ever bothering you.”

“Without bothering me?” Sean replied, raising his voice. “You don’t consider the other thousands I’ve spent on this to be bothering me?” More people started to notice them.

Julie’s eyes narrowed. “If it is such a bother to you to support me, then feel free to stop.”

Her words landed between them with a heavy thud. Sean’s blood ran cold, “You know, I have indulged this idiotic fantasy of your art for long enough. Julie, you are not oppressed or overlooked genius. The reason we are broke is because you have sunk each and every one of my hard earned pennies into mediocre art.”

Julie snapped back, “You’re right, Sean. Everyone is very aware of my taste for mediocrity.”

Sean knew the whole room was watching them now. “Ok,” he said, holding up his hands. “You be the tragic, misunderstood artist. I’ll leave and these losers can all come and tell you how brave you are. I’ll be the guy who waits for the girl he met years ago. The one who wasn’t such a stuck up, self absorbed bitch. That’s how I’m pathetic.”

Sean didn’t wait for a reply. He turned away from her and pushed through the crowd. Julie watched him go, thinking not of how he felt, but only of how their spectacle would change the crowd’s perception. She held back a smile and tried to produce some tears.

Sean’s heart raced as he left the gallery. He walked a few blocks before he snapped out of his fuming. The thought of going back to their apartment appalled him, but he was at a loss for alternatives. Ahead of him was a bar, Rick’s, which he’d ducked in from time to time on days off. While the last thing he wanted was to be around the same boozy locals that he had to serve night in and night out, he could already taste the whiskey.

The bar was dark and sparsely populated. Despite being very off the beaten path, it eschewed any dive aesthetic. The owners kept a clean and neat shop. Sean attributed it to the local nature of the establishment. Most of the bars that Julie wanted to frequent were awash with the drifting mass of culture connoisseurs. Those art crowd people moved from one hip place to another like locust, driving off a regular crowd and then moving on, leaving the bar an empty husk. Rick’s was more stable, kept in business by providing a haunt for local alcoholics and a refuge for middle aged men in the middle of various crises.

Sean took a seat at the empty bar and nodded as the bartender dropped a napkin in front of him. “Whiskey, neat. Don’t care what it is.” Sean tossed out his credit card as the bartender dropped a glass on the napkin and quickly filled it with a rich, brown liquid. Sean snatched it up and downed the whole of it in one gulp. He placed the glass back down and tapped the side of it. The bartender raised an eyebrow slightly, but filled it up again. They repeated it once more before a voice interrupted them.

“My friend, this is not how we drink good whiskey,” said a man as he sat down beside Sean. “You must savor it. Let the taste wash over you and, much more importantly, you must keep your balance. You’re dropping stones down your gullet. Don’t think you will walk evenly when you stand up.”

The man had an odd cadence and didn’t seem to be speaking his natural tongue. Sean let the bartender refill his glass, but didn’t drain it. Instead he lifted it and swirled the liquid in front of him. Looking at the man, he was struck by the odd appearance of his fellow bar patron. The man was tall, even while seated, with beetle black eyes which glimmered as he stared back at Sean. The man wore a very old looking coat that seemed to have several patches and many loose stitches. Long white hands poked out of the sleeves, his fingers moving like spiders legs as they wrapped around his drink and lifted it to his lips. “My name is Thaddeus,” the man said in rich baritone.

Despite his foul mood, Sean replied, “Sean. Nice to meet you.”

“What causes a man to come into a pub with such a purpose,” Thaddeus asked. Sean didn’t respond, only shook his head with a desperate smile. “Not money. Not directly anyway. Must be something else. I always know. Let’s see. Oh, of course, how plain it is. A girl.”

Sean found the man strangely endearing, but didn’t like being prodded. “Not something I want to talk about,” he muttered.

Thaddeus smiled, a broad grin with seemingly too many teeth at first glance. “Certainly not. Man who drinks like that isn’t interested in doing much other than drinking.” Thaddeus leaned a little closer. “But let me guess. The girl you know now isn’t the girl you knew.” Sean slightly nodded. “I always know. You have the look of a man who was left behind by a changing world.”

Sean replied, quickly beginning to feel the effects of his drinks, “She’s not changed. It’s all those people around her. She’s gotten in too deep with all their artist bullshit.”

Thaddeus frowned. “Of course she’s changed. You’ve changed as well. This whole world changes. No sense in growing angry with change. If you’re going to rage at something, rage at the way it changes, not change itself. Let me ask you, if you could change her back, would you?”

Sean thought for a moment. “No, I guess not, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want her to go back to caring more about us than about her sculptures or whatever.”

“An artist,” Thaddeus said. “Artists try to capture change in a fixed state so that they can look at it and feel intelligent. Most are too full of themselves to have room for anyone else.”

“Sounds familiar,” Sean agreed.

“Another round for my friend,” Thaddeus said to the bartender.

The man’s odd mannerisms, in addition to the copious amount of alcohol Sean had consumed, cheered him up a great deal. Still, the moment the conversation lapsed, his argument with Julie forced its way back into his mind, wriggling through his hazy thoughts like a noxious worm. As he sipped his whiskey, he kept an eye on Thaddeus. The strange man drank in quick movements, his hands moving fluidly to his glass and then back to his sides. Once his glass was empty, Thaddeus tried to get the attention of the bartender, but the man was at the other end in deep conversation with a pair of old men.

Thaddeus sighed and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a medium sized ball of grey putty. Thaddeus placed it on the bar, then squashed it with his palm. As he pulled his hand away, the putty rose into a small replica of the barman. Thaddeus put his long white fingers beside the tiny replica’s head and snapped. Sean watched the barkeep’s hand fly to his ear as if a small explosion had occurred beside him. In a flash, Thaddeus squashed the figure and deposited the material back in his pocket. After taking a moment to recover from the ringing in his ears, the barkeeper noticed Thaddeus’s empty glass and came to refill it.

Once the barkeeper returned to his conversation at the opposite end, Sean leaned over to Thaddeus and said, “How did you do that?”

The strange man smiled and shrugged. “A small parlor trick. Misdirection, that type of thing.”

Sean slapped the bar as if to bat away the thought, “No, I saw that dough stuff change into an exact copy of the that guy. How the fuck is that a parlor trick?”

Thaddeus moved his arm to Sean’s shoulder, “My friend, you shouldn’t pay so much attention. It can be dangerous to notice such things.” The man’s spidery hand gripped Sean’s neck firmly. Thaddeus slapped him on the back, “But I like you, and I am in good spirit. Look here.” Thaddeus produced the small grey ball once again. “Let’s call this….psychic clay. This is not what it is, but it should be easier for you to understand that way.” Thaddeus placed the clay on the bar between them. “Now, it works easily. You think of whatever you want the clay to be. In this case, let’s make it the barman again. Think of him and press your hand into the clay.”

Sean did as he was told. As he pulled his hand away, the clay rose up into the replica of the barman once again. “Whoa….”

Thaddeus’s black eyes danced gleefully. “That’s not all you can do. Maybe we make him a little taller.” Thaddeus moved his fingers over the clay, and the small person stood a little straighter and taller. Sean watched in disbelief as the barman suddenly grew another inch or two. The man didn’t seem to notice at all.

“How?” Sean asked, trying to fight back the oncoming stupor of alcohol.

Thaddeus laughed. “Call it magic. Call it what you wish, that’s not important. But there are other things you can do. Not control. A human’s free will is too strong, no matter the case. But suggestion that’s another tale. Inhibitions float around like gnats. You strike them away, and the true person comes out. Look here.” Again, Thaddeus’s fingers lightly touched the figurine. When Sean saw it again, it was holding a cigarette. Sure enough, as he watched, the barman pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. “You see, it reminds people of their base instincts.”

Sean reached out and touched the clay, and it instantly collapsed and reformed into a small figure of Julie. He gasped and pulled back. The figure remained for a moment, but then refolded into the small blob. Thaddeus eyed him carefully, “Perhaps you should keep it. I think you may have some need of it in the future.” Sean gulped, but picked up the putty. It was firm and smooth in his hand. He dropped it in his breast pocket. “Excellent, barkeep, another round.”

Sean felt much more relaxed. Another drink slid down his throat. He stopped remembering the fight with Julie and let the hazy darkness overtake him.

Sean woke up with a horrid taste in his mouth and a crick in his neck. The moment he moved his head, it felt as if a knife had been shoved through the middle of his skull. With a concerted effort, he sat up and started to take an account of where he was. It was his apartment, but he wasn’t in his bed. Instead, he’d slept on the couch, half undressed and reeking of alcohol. As he rubbed his eyes, he noticed the small gray orb on the coffee table in front of him. His mind flashed back to the previous night and recalled vague details of his conversations with the strange man.

Not ready to believe it, he reached out to the orb, and the second he touched it, it transformed into a small version of himself. Sean rubbed his eyes, trying to clear away the hangover, but knew it was in vain. He noticed a small cartoonish bottle with three X’s on the figure’s forehead. He reached out and rubbed it, smudging the clay. Instantly, his head cleared, and he was awake and alert. A burst of adrenaline coursed through him as he realized the clay had not been a dream.

Taking account of his surroundings, he noted that the bedroom door was closed. He saw Julie’s things on the kitchen counter and assumed she had gone to bed before he came home. Quietly, he moved over to the bedroom door and listened. He could hear Julie in the bathroom, most likely getting dressed. For a moment, he recalled his anger with her from the night before, but his excitement at the prospect of the clay held his attention.

Returning to the couch, he picked up the statue of himself. He focused his mind on Julie and pressed his hand to the figure. The tiny version of himself melted and reformed into an image of her. Focusing his thoughts, a tiny image of two stick figures yelling at each other appeared on the figure’s forehead. “That must be the argument.” After taking a brief moment to consider the moral implications, Sean dismissed them entirely and rubbed away the argument. He placed the figure of Julie down on the counter and went to the bedroom.

As he opened the door, Julie turned to greet him. She stood in front of her mirror in her underwear, holding a shirt over her chest. “Oh, hi honey!” she said brightly. “What time did you get in last night?”

Sean’s stomach fluttered. Did she really not remember? “Oh, I don’t know. I was a little drunk. How, uh, did the opening go?”

Julie’s face went blank for a moment. “You know, I had forgot about that. That’s...weird. It went great, though! I sold two and have some interest in three others.”

Holy shit, Sean thought. “That’s great honey! We should celebrate. Let’s go out for break...oh, it’s noon. Lunch then, if you have time.”

“Oh sure,” Julie said. “I need to get back to the gallery before five,though. You need a shower. Aren’t you hung over?”

Sean could barely contain his excitement. “A little, but you’re right. I’ll shower.” Sean’s mind was flush with ideas of how to use the clay. Though the headache was gone, he still smelled of whiskey and had a horrid taste in his mouth. He gave Julie a quick peck on the cheek and squeezed her ass before heading into the bathroom to shower.

Julie hummed to herself as she browsed through her clothes, wondering what to wear. She’d expected Sean to be in a foul mood, and his cheerfulness surprised her. The shower turned on, and she remembered that she was quite thirsty. As she went to the kitchen, she noticed the odd little figuring sitting on the counter. “What’s this?” she said, aloud.

At first, she didn’t know what to think. The statue looked exactly like her, or at least, exactly what she looked like the previous night. Sean must have had it made as a present, but how? As she held it, the clay reshaped changing to resemble Julie’s current attire of only underwear. She almost dropped it from shock, “My god, that’s amazing! It must have a tiny camera in it or something. How in the hell...wait, is that what my stomach looks like?” Julie wasn’t overweight by any measure, but a small amount of fat had begun to accumulate around her tummy. Frowning, she imagined what she thought it should look like, flat and firm with the slightest hint of muscle underneath. The statue began to change, but Julie didn’t notice because her attention went to her underwear getting looser. Looking down at her stomach, she realized that it had flattened, the small pooch of fat vanishing into thin air. Moving over to a hallway mirror, she admired her new slightly more slender form. “What the fuck…” she muttered.

Turning her attention back to the figure, her mind raced with an effort to understand what was happening. She focused on the figure’s hair, imagining it in a pixie cut, and blue. Again, the figure changed, and Julie gasped as her hair shortened and turned a rich blue color. The change filled her with excitement and electric energy. She stopped wondering about where the figure came from or how it worked. Her thoughts turned to how she could use it.

Looking at her figure in the mirror, she was glad to have a slender stomach, but the looseness in her bra and panties dismayed her. The one redeeming factor of putting on a little weight was a fuller chest and rounder butt. Concentrating, she imagined the breasts on the tiny figure swelling a few sizes larger. No sooner had the thought coalesced in her mind than her own chest started to bulge forward with expanding flesh. The electric feeling coursed through her, making her entire body tingle. Her hands quickly went to her bra clasp and removed it, letting her growing breasts spill into view. They swelled into perfectly round, perky tits, the kind she’d wanted her whole life. Sean would be ecstatic about them.

She remembered that Sean was more of an ass man in the first place. Turning her attention to the clay once again, which she was pleased to see now reflected her own toplessness, she decided to use her own skill as an artist. Carefully, she began to mold the tiny figure’s rear to a perfectly round, bouncy ass. She took her hands away and reveled in the electric feeling moving from her breasts down through her body to the wobbling flesh growing out behind her. Her underwear cut into her hips as they grew into that of a porn star’s. Turning in front of the mirror, she lightly slapped her ass, causing it to jiggle slightly.

Pleased with her sexy new body, Julie went back to the figure and noticed a small drawing on her tiny version’s forehead. It was a small stack of books and a set of alphabet blocks, like she’d seen in television shows as a kid. “What’s that doing there,” she wondered. Checking in the mirror, she didn’t see any such mark on her own forehead. Shrugging, she took her finger and wiped at the small drawing. Instantly, it vanished.

A strange feeling of happiness washed over Julie. She felt good, warm and fuzzy. In fact, she had not felt this carefree in as long as she could remember. She looked at the doll again. It looked sexy, but it needed finishing touches. She made her lips bigger and fuller. Happily, she watched in the mirror as the swelled into big round cocksucking lips. Eager to see her new self fully naked, she pulled down her underwear, letting her big round ass spring free. Picking up the doll once again, she cleared away her pubic hair, leaving her completely bald and hoping it would never grow back. Now that she was thinking about her pussy, she realized she was soaking wet. Slowly, she let her finger slip inside her folds, letting out a tiny gasp of pleasure.

“Jesus Christ,” Sean blurted out from the bedroom doorway.

Julie pushed her breasts together and smiled at Sean, “Oh hi honey. What do you think of your little sexy Julie?” Sean had come from the shower and only wore a towel. If he moved just right, she would be able to see his cock. A primal need for him burgeoned inside her, and she wondered if it mattered that it was Sean at all. She wanted cock, and he happened to be the closest available.

“What have you done to yourself?” he asked, approaching her cautiously.

“I found this little me! I thought of what I wanted it to look like, and it came true! Isn’t that neato?” Julie’s voice had become lilting and higher than Sean remembered. “Gosh, I sound like a bimbo don’t I Sean?”

Sean reached out toward her, “Don’t worry sweetie, I can fix this. Just hand me the clay.”

“Fix it? What’s wrong?” Julie sounded legitimately hurt. “Am I not hot enough for you? Did you see my big ass? You always wanted to fuck my ass, I bet it will be more fun now that it’s so round and soft.”

Sean whimpered. Despite knowing that she had gotten herself into a mess with the clay, he couldn’t deny that his girlfriend was unbelievably hot or that his cock was straining with arousal, barely hidden behind the towel. “No, nothing’s wrong. Just hand me the statue, and I can make everything go back to normal.”

Julie held up the statue and looked at it. “Ok, Sean, you can have it. But you better not take it and jerk off while looking at it. I can jerk you off any time. No point in wasting your cum on that little statue when you can cum in my mouth. Gee, it’s a shame that you don’t have one of these for yourself.” As she said it, the clay in her hands melted and reformed. It became a miniature version of Sean, naked but for his towel, reaching toward Julie. “Oh, look! There is one of you! Sean do you know what this means?”

Sean panicked. He lunged forward, dropping the towel and grabbing Julie’s wrist. Before he could do anything else, all of his desire to stop her vanished. He looked at his goddess like girlfriend as she lightly smudged something from the forehead of the clay version of himself. “Man, you were right Julie. Your ass is soft!”

“Hang on stud,” Julie said with a smile. “I want to make a few more improvements first.” Taking the statue of Sean, she molded him to be a bit taller. She took away his flab and replaced it with a six pack. His chin was altered to be more pronounced, and she changed his eyes from blue to a vibrant green. Her mouth watered as she moved to his cock. She made it longer and thicker, swelling the balls to be proportional to his size. Appreciating a nice ass on her men as well, she made his butt a little thicker so that she could have something to pull on while he fucked her. Julie put down the statue and turned to look at the real thing.

As Sean admired his suddenly sculpted body, Julie’s attention went immediately to the fat cock standing out rigidly from her boyfriend’s body. She dove for it with a mad desperation. Her fat lips wrapped around the head of the shaft and she reveled in the feeling of his warm cock sliding into her mouth. Sean let out a gasp and reached down to hold her head as he pushed into her throat. She took the whole of his length with ease, burying her nose in his small, soft curls before pulling his entire length out of her mouth with a wet pop. She lifted his shaft and ran her tongue along the underside of it, looking up at him with big round eyes and slapping his cock on her cheek.

For his part, Sean’s mind boiled with desire. From the moment he tried to grab the statue, all he could think about was sex. The thoughts of his job, of paying rent, of the petty arguments they’d had over the years — all of it had vanished and been replaced by a carnal need to fuck his bimbo day and night in every way they could think.

He dropped to his knees and pushed her down to the floor. Julie happily moved to accommodate him, pulling his firm body against her new softness. Sean’s hands pawed at her, grabbing her hips and ass while his mouth latched on her breast and sucked at her nipple. Julie could feel his wet cock pushing against her thigh, leaving a trail of his precum as it slid up her leg. Pulling him away from her breast, despite the delightful feeling of his efforts, she brought him up to her lips and kissed him. “Sean, isn’t this how we were always supposed to be? Horny and fucking one another?”

Sean looked at her confused, “We weren’t always like this?” As he spoke, he pushed his girthy cock against her pussy lips. It slipped inside easily, and Julie gasped as he shoved his whole length inside of her. Her toes curled as her pussy gripped the thick cock. Sean moaned as her burning warmth enveloped his whole cock.

Sean rolled over and pulled Julie on top of him. Julie’s body quivered as she raised up off of his cock and slowly sheathed it back inside of her. Sean looked up at her lovingly, his hands kneading her ass as she fucked him. She started rocking back and forth faster, and Sean pulled and pushed her hips to help her ride the full length of his cock. She could feel her orgasm getting closer and closer as she bounced on top of him, her ass and tits jiggling with each stroke. She felt him grab her ass hard and start to force her to match his rhythm. His cock started to pulse and jerk inside of her as her pussy continued squeezing his length. Sean’s eyes clamped shut as his new strength held her in place for a long moment before his cock spewed cum deep inside of her.

The sudden burst of hot cum splattering her inner walls caused Julie’s own orgasm to erupt. She let out some grunts as her body began to shake in his vice like grip. More and more cum shot inside of her as Sean’s plus sized balls emptied in her hungry snatch. Julie gasped with pleasure as Sean finally relaxed, and the torrent of cum stopped. She could feel his spunk oozing out of her stretched pussy, dripping down onto his balls.

Not satisfied, she raised off of him and went to get the statue. It was still in the form of Sean, but the tiny version was smiling with satisfaction and had a limp cock. Julie focused and thought of Sean’s big dig swelling up to its full length. She thought of it always bouncing right back to full, no matter how often they had sex. No sooner had she put down the statue than Sean was behind her.

He pushed her forward onto the counter and spread her legs. His dick pushed back inside of her, and she groaned with satisfaction as he started fucking her once again. Sean grunted at the feeling of her tight pussy, lubricated by his own cum. Teasingly, he pushed his thumb against her ass and gave her a light swat to her ass cheek each time he pushed inside of her. Julie gurgled with pleasure as she squeezed her own tits.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck Julie?” came a voice from across the room.

Sean and Julie didn’t bother to stop their rutting, but they did look across the room to see who had barged into their apartment. Julie recognized her friend, Amanda. As Sean pushed his cock to her core, she grabbed the clay statue and thought as hard as she could, “Amanda, with bigger tits and a smooth pussy, and no worries, just a bimbo like me.”