Max held the amphora up to her lips and urged Maria to drink. The liquid was warm, almost fiery, with the taste of strong herbs, maybe a hint of licorice and nutmeg. Immediately she felt relaxed, glowing and comfortable. "Are you going to tell me what was in that?" she laughed, knowing that he probably wouldn't tell her. The museum did not feel so cold, or dark. He had wrapped her in a toga, covering her modesty, although her legs and shoulders were still exposed.

He kissed her on the lips, firmly, passionately, and then took her by the hand. "I'm going to introduce you to a few people," he said, grinning.

There were so many questions she wanted to ask. What he was doing there, why he had come to life for her, why had she felt so drawn to him? Why had she ended up taking him in her mouth and swallowing his come? She could still taste it, in her mouth. And then. Then he had fucked her from behind. Filled her pussy with spunk. Against all her better judgment, something she had never done before with any man other than her husband. She wondered what had happened to her. Was there some kind of magic going on? Something supernatural. Well, obviously. But how and why?

Christ, he was handsome. As he led her through the hallway, still holding her hand, she couldn't help but stare at the dark curly hair on his head, the shape of his back, the lean muscles, the toned physique. So different to her husband.

It was as if he could read her mind. "I don't know," he said.
"About?"

"I don't know why I'm here, how this happens, why it happens. It just does." That was that. A final tone in his voice. "Let's talk about something else. How much do you know about our culture?" he asked.

She noticed how the sound of their feet echoed on the hard floor of the museum as they walked past other exhibitions. Native American displays. Phoenician antiquities. One vast hall full of Elizabethan timber houses presumably shipped over from Europe.

"Not so much, to be honest," she said. "But I was very interested by the lecture last night. From the professor. He was telling us about parties, you know, orgies, that Romans and Greeks used to have years ago. Thousands of years ago. They could get a bit... out of hand... from the sound of it."

"’Used to have?’ Still have."

Maria swallowed hard. She thought about the other statues. Men. Whichever. What did he have planned for her? She asked herself the question. But really, she knew already. There would be more of them. More men. Doing things to her and with her and for her. The thought aroused her and alarmed her in equal measure.

"Are you going to look after me?" she asked, placing her hand on Max's arm.

He smiled, reassuring her. "Of course, sweetheart. You don't have to worry about a thing. I can hear voices... we're nearly there."

There was the sound of laughter, and clinking glasses, and Maria could see warm light coming from the next room. There were drapes and cushions, and amphoras being passed around. Trays of grapes, and cheeses and hams. One man, tall, dark and muscular, was telling some kind of anecdote while the others hung on his every word. She had expected three or four other men, and was surprised to see more. Eight, nine, maybe 10 or more. All men. She felt her stomach tightening. Nerves.

Max was still holding her hand. He squeezed it softly. "You are going to have... an incredible time," he whispered, reassuringly.

The dark man who was telling the story stopped short suddenly. He had turned his head to stare at her. The others, ditto. Maria could feel so many eyes on her, looking her up and down, some with surprise, others with delight.

"Max, you've brought us a real beauty," said the storyteller. "Are you going to introduce
her?"

Maria was showed to some cushions on the floor and urged to sit down. She sat nervously, fiddling with the hem of her toga, as the men took turns to introduce themselves. All seemed so charming, so attentive. And each and every one of them had the perfect body, slim, toned, honed... like statues, in fact. One brought another amphora and urged her to drink it, while others fed her with fruits, exotic cakes and other delicacies. She began to relax. The atmosphere was so happy, everyone chatting to each other and to her. She couldn't remember any of their names, they sounded so exotic, and there were so many men, a dozen maybe. The big tanned man was Flavius; he was some kind of centurion, perhaps the leader of the group. Another man, Octavius, stood out, because he was the only black man there ("a slave, taken from my family by galley boat when I was a child in North Africa", he explained). Then there were Julius, Marcus, Servius, and many others besides. Some were wearing togas, others were just in loincloths.

There was a certain sexual tension; that was clear. She could tell from the way that the men jostled to talk to her, to get her attention. She hoped that Max wouldn't mind as she laughed at their jokes and flirted with them. She loved their stories about the ancient times, the battles,
the great buildings of Rome and Athens, the first Olympics, the wars and the more intimate stories of families and friends.

Julius had gone away and reappeared with a small amphora of oil, offering to give her a massage, and she gladly accepted. That was how she found herself lying back on the cushions, while he worked his hands all over her legs and arms, rubbing warm oil into her skin. Someone else – was it David, or Max? – was feeding her with grapes, pushing them past her lips, one by one. The oil was warm on her skin, it had some kind of herbs in it, it made her tingle all over as Julius rubbed it into her thighs and shoulders, neck and cheeks. He opened up her toga and began to spread the oil further inside, down her throat and upper chest.

"You don't mind, do you?", he whispered... and then on to her breasts. The toga had fallen open. She knew that they could all see her body, her ample curves, and she worried that they might not like it. But that was not the case, judging by the way that several men gathered around her and began to...to... Julius was now rubbing oil all over her tits, one after the other, making slow circles with his hands, lightly stroking them. When he came to her nipples, which were starting to stand up, pink and stiff, he used his fingers to tweak them, feeling the hardness between his fingertips. Someone else was holding an amphora to her mouth, urging her to drink more of the... what was it... potion. She felt the warmth in her throat as she drank freely. The drink made her feel relaxed, for sure. But it also – she realised, belatedly – made her feel so very horny. Like she wanted to be intimate with a man, any man, men even. And right now, right here.

At least three of the men had taken their togas off and were standing just 10 feet away, their hands on their cocks, which were already stiff and firm. They were stroking themselves, masturbating, while watching her. She couldn't believe they were doing it because of her... that she was inspiring them to this arousal. Their hands made a slick noise as they fisted their cocks, watching her all the while. Someone was licking her feet. Warm, wet tongue on her toes, between her toes, over her soles and up to her ankles. It was strange, for sure, but it made her tingle all over. It was Servius, the youngest of the group, and he was now running his tongue up her legs, her calves, so slowly, so delicately. Immediately she wanted that tongue between her thighs, in her most intimate parts. She knew that she was wet already, that her pussy was oozing with juice. Julius had stopped rubbing oil into her body. Instead he was nowlying beside her, his head on her right breast, running his tongue over the hard nub of her teat. And on the other side was David, sucking her other swollen nipple.

Maria wanted a cock in her mouth. Just like that. Needed to feel a manhood in her mouth. And, as if reading her mind, there was Octavius, crouching next to her head, his knees on a pillow, his full black length in his hand, offering it for her to suck. Obediently she moved her head sideways, accepting the eight inches of meat as he pushed it against her mouth. Any second thoughts she might have had an hour ago had gone. She had never felt so hot, so sexy, so needed, so feminine. She was looking up at his body, the neat ridges of his abs, the large slabs of muscle that were his pecs. And his huge, thick, fat cock, against her lips. She enjoyed running her tongue along the ridge of his bulbous purple cock-head, licking, teasing him, before accepting the whole thing between her lips, letting him push it all the way into her mouth, the full length. It was so big she nearly choked.

And now there was a head between her legs, thick black curly hair, and she could feel warm, wet pressure against her pussy. A tongue. She opened her legs up, wider, spread her knees, allowing this other man to lick and tongue her labia. He was licking up and down her thick lips, easing then open, before tonguing between them. He was gentle but insistent, little strokes up and down, sideways, up to her clit and down again. Meanwhile she could feel something pressing against her other hole, her anus, a small, insistent probing. The man who was licking her cunt was also pushing a finger up her arse. A greased finger. Her bottom was not too tight, after Max's earlier probing, and she felt one finger and then another slip up into her forbidden passage, until she felt so full, so very full.

She now had one cock between her lips, a mouth on each of her breasts, and another man tonguing her pussy and fingering her anus. Feelings of excitement were flooding her body as she lay back on the soft cushions, relishing being the centre of attention. She was enjoying her power over these men. The men who were wanking while watching this scene could not hold back any longer. They stepped towards Maria and began to fist their cocks in her direction. She watched as they began to spray white liquid all over her stomach and over the cushions. The spunk was warm on her stomach. Just as this happened, Octavius was close to coming, unable to hold back from the pressure of her tongue and lips over his huge length. He began to moan and grunt in his own native tongue, words that she could not understand but the sentiment she certainly could. It was no surprise when he seized her head and began to empty himself into her mouth, sending blast after blast of hot come down her throat.

As he withdrew his cock from her and left, she was surprised to see another cock heading towards her mouth. It was young Servius, holding out his smaller pink knob for her to taste. She took it, willingly. It was stiff and throbbing. But if that was Servius, who was between her legs, licking her closer and closer to her second orgasm of the evening? She soon found out the answer as Max lifted up his head, pulled himself up and told her that it was time for her to take his cock again. As she continued to suck on Servius, she let Max hoist himself between her legs and slide his dick into her pussy once again, relishing the feeling of his length filling her up, all the way in. She still had two other men sucking on her tits. And she still had Servius's organ in her mouth. God it was heavenly. Max was pumping her faster and faster, as if he was in a hurry, as if he wanted to come insider her swiftly and make way for the other men. Within a few minutes he was crying out with excitement and she felt a warm flooding deep inside her pussy. Soon after it was Servius's time to come, and as his cock began to twitch in her mouth he started to pull away. Her mouth fell open as he began to spurt, jets of white come, all over her chin, lips and cheek.

She wondered what she must look like with sticky come on her face, stomach and between her thighs. What a slut.

But there was no time for thinking, because Flavius – she was sure it was him – was ordering her up on to her knees, hands on the pillows, assuming the doggy position. Strong male hands were pulling her up, stroking her hair, her body; an amphora was held against her lips once again and she was urged to drink again. Someone was holding her buttocks and pushing something stiff against her labia. And then he was inside her, filling her, pushing deep into her. Whoever it was, he was gripping her hard, one hand on her arse, one hand on her neck, fucking her fast. His big balls banged against her arse in time with his strokes. It was not an enormous cock, but it was thick and wide. She turned her head to see who it was and didn't recognise his face.

Max was sat on the cushions next to her, whispering, telling her it would be okay, was she enjoying it, was everything alright. All she could say was yes; she was so overwhelmed by excitement and physical arousal. "Yes, yes, yes... yes," she groaned, over and over again, as the stranger took her from behind.

Two other unknown men were now crouched next to her, naked, urging her to bring relief to their swollen cocks. She leaned forward to lick one knob and held the other in her right hand. Like a joystick, she thought. Thick and long and veiny. She began to wank it while licking and sucking the other one. The man who was screwing her, whoever he was, was coming, she could hear from the noise he was making, and the fast way he was pumping her.

She felt the squirt of hot cream in her, once again, and soon after he withdrew there was another hard cock pushing back into her. This time it was Octavius, longer and thicker than any of the others. "Oh God," she cried out. "Yes, yes, yes....oh yes."

They came together; he was quick, it was as if he couldn't stop, filling her up again. Octavius withdrew. She could now feel liquid dribbling out of her, running down her thighs. Warm and wet. The man inside her mouth was also coming, emptying his balls down her throat. It was too much for her to take; she felt it oozing out of the corner of her mouth and down her chin. She felt like such a slut. Covered in juices, her own and those of men. Thick white cream. So many men.

Maria felt strong hands lifting her up, literally picking her up from the floor, carrying her across the room towards Flavius. The centurion. He was sat on some cushions, facing her, his organ in his hands, big and erect. "Bring her to me," he told his men.

She noticed how much taller and larger he was. How his cock, in his hand, was so much thicker. The men lifted her up and lowered her down onto Flavius. She felt his stem slowly penetrate her. Facing him, her boobs hanging down towards his face, Maria was no longer self-conscious about her size, her weight. All those hang-ups about her curves, her large tits and big arse… now she couldn't care less. She sank onto him, slowly, letting him stretch her as he filled her up. Maria was glad she had taken so many cocks already, that she was already dripping wet and loose. Otherwise she would have struggled with such a big tool. Knowing what to do, instinctively, she began to ride up and down on him, screwing him, gripping him with her hot, wet tunnel. Squeezing. Her hands on his chest, pressing down. He was unsentimental, not even talking to her as he raised his hips up to meet hers. Such a satisfying fuck.

It was Max who came over and talked to her as she screwed the other man. Talking to her urgently, explaining what was happening. Almost in a dream, she heard him explain that she had a choice. A life-changing choice. She could leave, in minutes, go back to her real life and family and friends and job, or she could stay here, in the museum, forever, and all she had to do was to say the word "Yes" three times. The choice was hers. It was confusing, with the heat and the potion and the feel of Flavius's huge cock inside her cunt. She couldn't think straight.

Max started to kiss her mouth as she continued to ride Flavius. Their tongues entwined. It felt strange, to be having sex with one man while kissing another.

Max whispered: "Are you happy?"

She did not have to think before replying: "Oh yes". There. She'd said it. Once.

The noise of Flavius's slippery pole filling her slippery pussy filled the room, a sort of rhythmic, fast, squelchy pumping. She couldn't believe how deep he was, how he filled her so perfectly. Her clit was throbbing against the base of his pole.

"And what about Flavius," continued Max. "Do you like his cock inside you, stretching you, pumping you? And are you ready to come... is he going to make you come? That's two questions…"

Maria threw back her head, her fingers on her nipples, tweaking the hard nubs, groaning, as she rode the centurion. She realised that the other men had gathered round and were watching again. Some were stroking themselves as they observed the scene.

"Yes, Max," she cried out. "And....oh God... I think I'm going to... oh Christ, fuck, oh God, oh..."



One year later

It was a cloudy day and Tony was wandering alone in Central Park when the rain started to fall, hard, and he decided to take some shelter in the Met. He didn’t like history. Wasn't interested in dinosaurs, or old rocks, or ancient statues. Ancient statues. He hadn’t been paying attention; not really, he was distracted by thoughts of his business, cash flow, accounts, when something caught his eye. He stopped, open-mouthed, to stare. And then he began to shout. Other museumgoers backed off as he started to cry out in surprise, in disbelief.

"That's her! That's her!" He couldn't help repeating the same thing, again and again, louder and louder.

When the security men arrived – "It's okay sir, come with us… Now, now" – he tried to resist, but there were four of them, and they were bigger than him. As they dragged him down the hall, towards the exit, he was craning his neck back towards a cluster of Greek statues. Shouting the same thing. Trying to break away from the guards, but unable to get out of their grip. He disappeared from sight, still screaming.

An astute observer would have noticed that almost all the statues were men, young, slim and fit. Almost all. Their gaze was fixed upon one single figure, in the centre, which stood out from the others. It was a statue of a woman, busty - some would say plump - dressed in a toga, hair swept back over her neck, on which hung a green stone pendant. She was smiling, frozen in time, forever.

The Museum ~ Part IV

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