"A Reunion With Melissa"

by DL

Warning:  This story contains nudity and sexual content. If you are under 21 years of age, or do not prefer to read material of this nature, please press your "back button" now.  This story is fictional.  Any resemblance to actual places, events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental.  Please email your comments, both good and bad to Dlstories2@aol.com.  I hope you enjoy and I welcome your feedback!! 

Part I:

I couldn't believe it!  The charm had worked just like the old woman said it would. . .

. . . Melissa's fixed, glassy eyes were staring straight through me.  She wasn't blinking; she didn't look like she was even breathing.  I don't guess she was.  I have to say that it scared the hell out of me at first.  I was afraid to touch her.  I couldn't speak a word. 

Her body didn't flinch in the slightest way.  She just stood there: Silent and unchanging.  The expression on her face was a mixture of confusion, panic and a tiny bit of anger all rolled into one.  But nevertheless, it was unchanging.  The magic had actually worked! 

Suddenly, guilt washed over me.  What had I done?!  Did she realize what I had done?  I think so, because her eyes – as unemotional as they were now – seemed accusatory in some way.  Maybe it was my imagination. 

'But if she did know,' I reassured myself.  'It was probably only for a split second.'   I hoped that she hadn't felt any pain!  I never wanted that!  God, I wonder if she feels anything at all right now?!  I hope she's not mad at me!

I examined her a bit closer, still keeping my distance.  Her mouth was partly open, and an unspoken or I should say an unfinished word was on the tip of her motionless tongue.  I could see that it along with her full lips were still moist, but they were starting to dry quickly.  Her right hand was raised in mid-air.  Her palm was opened, her fingers splayed, in a fruitless attempt to express that final thought that was on her mind.  If I remember right, it was something about her having a new boyfriend and that I really shouldn't be here.  I guess that didn't matter now. 

"Missy?"  I offered, waving my hand in front of her face.

There was no response.

"Missy?  Can you hear me?"  I shouted this time.

Still, nothing but silence as she gazed across the small condo into infinity.

I was growing a little braver.  I reached out and brushed a strand of dark brown hair away from her forehead, and I allowed my fingers to linger.  Her skin was still warm, but I could tell that her soft flesh was beginning to cool and stiffen.    I let my fingers trail down her cheek toward her opened mouth and then down her neck.  There was no pulse!  My God, had I killed her?!  There was still no response whatsoever.  It was if I wasn't even there.

I was shaking like I was having a seizure.  I walked to the kitchen and poured myself a shot of straight bourbon and gulped it down.  It burned!  Damn, it burned!  I felt like I would puke.  I wasn't sure if the feeling was induced by the whiskey or what I had done.  I lit a cigarette and after a few long drags, my nerves settled somewhat.   

When I returned from the kitchen I think I half expected Melissa to be gone, but she was still standing right there; staring into nothingness.  She hadn't moved whatsoever.  I walked around her, three-hundred-sixty degrees, and surveyed her from head to toe.  Her hair was a little longer now, and there might have been a few 'grays' or maybe even a new wrinkle or two, but she was still as lovely as ever.  "Still", I think was the keyword in that sentence.  Her thirty-six years had been much kinder to her than mine had been to me. 

She was so beautiful!  Her body was as trim and as firm as it had been ten years ago.  Ten years!  Had it really been that long since I'd seen her?   Yeah, I guess so.  But as I studied her unmoving figure, I think she might have looked even better now than she had back then. 

I had known her since high school and although we were only distant friends in those days, I'd had a secret crush on her all along.  Then some years later, almost by coincidence, we'd come to know each other on a much more intimate level.  Those were the best days of my life!  'But why did it have to end?  What did I do wrong?' These were questions that I had asked myself over and over.  But, I guess there's no answer to questions like that. 

"It's not you, it's me."  She had said.  But looking back, I guess it's always been me. 

I had wanted to be with her more than any woman I had ever seen or known in my life.  And now I was with her.  She was standing in front of me as helpless and as still as a statue. 

'I could have my way with her, and she probably wouldn't even know it.'  The thought thrilled me and sickened me simultaneously.  How could I have done this to her?!  To Missy, of all people!  She didn't deserve this.  

I peered deep into the lifeless pools that were once two bright blue eyes and wondered if she could see me.  I doubted it, but in a way, I kind of wish that she could have.  Thinking back, I remembered her pretty smile.  If it had to be like this, I wish I could've at least captured that instead of the shocked expression that was frozen on her face.  But it was too late now. 

In my mind's eye, I could still remember so many little things about her.  There's that little gap between her two front teeth.  She always hated that, but I thought it was cute.  And that dimple in her chin . . . I glanced at her . . . yep, they were both still showing . . . I was glad. 

Oh, and she was so self-conscious about her height.  She's five-eleven after all, tall for a girl; but it never bothered me.  And in the evenings when her eyes got tired, she would change from contacts to glasses.  That always seemed to embarrass her for some reason, but God those glasses made her look sexy!

These were all little things that she disliked about herself, but things that made me more attracted to her.  I loved her, hell, I still do . . .  I thought about finding those glasses and putting them on her.  I hoped there would be time for things like that. 

I crushed out my spent cigarette and noticed a cloud of smoke still drifting around Missy's stagnant form.  I used my hand to fan the air, but she didn't seem mind the odor any longer.  My thoughts were still racing, but the nicotine seemed to have slowed my pounding heart.  I hadn't expected my first reaction to this at all.  Hell, I'd never even expected it work!  But it had worked somehow.  It had, but how?!  This was crazy! 

The more I looked at Missy, the more I began to return to my old self, or at least a part of myself that I tried to repress.  As afraid and ashamed as I had felt in the beginning, I'll admit that the fear and guilt were now quickly subsiding.  I was becoming more and more aroused all the time.  These ups and downs of pleasure and guilt had plagued me almost all of my life when it came to this matter. 

Don't ask me why, because I don’t' know why or even how it all started, but ever since my earliest days of puberty I've had a "thing", I guess you might call it a fetish or something, for immobile women.  Or was it the actual "transformation" of a woman into an inanimate object that turned my screw?  I don't know, but either way, it really doesn't matter.      

I'd been embarrassed and ashamed of these dark thoughts since I was teenager, and besides that old woman and a couple anonymous posts on the Internet, I'd never told a soul.  After all, how could I?  I couldn't tell a lover or friend about this.  They would think I was nuts!!  I figured a psychiatrist would probably agree. 

Suppressing these tendencies was also a lot easier years ago.  Aside from my imagination, the only place such things existed was in comic books or in a few 'all too quick' scenes from scattered movies and cartoons.  But once I was introduced to the Internet, it didn't take long for me to start searching for this material.  To my surprise there were several groups of people out there in cyberspace who shared my "unusual" fantasies.  There were pictures, stories, forums . . . All of a sudden I didn't feel so weird.  I dove in with both feet, but after each and every little private escape, those feelings of guilt were right back.  Then by accident, I had met the old woman.  She seemed to already know about my fantasies somehow.  Then suddenly, my fantasy wasn't a fantasy any longer.

Now the real thing stood right here in front of me.  The beautiful young woman, who had been the victim of my imagination so many times, was literally frozen and immobile.  In a way I felt sorry for her.  She looked so delicate and fragile, yet even better than she had in any image my mind had fabricated.  Was it just a dream?  No.  This was as real as it gets.  The bulge in my pants grew tighter by the second. 

Yes, thanks to that old woman, my dirty little wish had come true; but at what expense?  And what would I do with Missy now that the wish had come true? 

I was still a bit weary, but I walked closer and placed a delicate kiss on her opened lips.  There was no response.  Her lips felt as cold as ice now.  That was certainly a contrast to the old days.  

I reached for her arms, and found that they were both equally as cold, but still pliable.  I tried to gently move her right arm, which was still suspended in a gesture toward me, but when I did, her whole body rocked in the direction of my pressure.  Wow!  She was really getting stiff.  This was going take a little more effort than I had thought.

I wrapped my arm around her waist, to prevent her body from moving, and used my other hand to lift her outstretched arm straight above her head.  The limb was so, umph . . . stiff, I was afraid that I might break it off with the force I had to apply, but I was finally able to achieve the desired result. 

To my amazement, when I let go, her arm just stayed there.  She looked like she was waving to someone a half-mile away.  Her vacant eyes appeared to be looking even further away than that.  I repeated this action with her left arm and eventually it was also held high above her head.  After that, removing her tee shirt was fairly easy.     

She had apologized earlier for not having time to fully dress when she had answered the door barefoot, with a hairbrush in her hand, and I had laughed inside at the irony.  Apparently my appearance had interrupted her just after a shower.  The thought still made me smile, because I knew that if my plan worked, and it had, that she would soon be wearing even less. 

Now only her blue jeans, bra and panties remained.  As I moved in close once again and lowered her arms to their former position, I could smell the fuchsia-scented body lotion that she had applied only moments before.  I remembered that she had always liked that fragrance, and I lingered in the sweet aroma. 

The shocked expression on her face didn't unnerve me anymore as I went about my business.  I was completely lost in the moment.  The clasp on her bra popped loose quite easily, and I slowly pulled it away from her body.  There were those beautiful tits!  Not overly large, but they were as round and as perky as I'd remembered.  I traced my finger around her left nipple and was satisfied with its stiffness.  Was it arousal or the magic?  It didn't matter. 

I leaned forward and kissed the cold, unresponsive nub, then massaged it with my tongue.  I tried to squeeze her other breast with my hand and found that the skin, along that nipple, was just as cold and unyielding.  As my fingers played across the hardening mounds, I could just feel the tiny peach hairs that surrounded her areoles, and knew that they too had been captured in perfection. 

Placing soft kisses from her bare breasts up to her long, slender neck, I finally made my way back to her frozen lips.  I closed my eyes and kissed her hard this time; letting my tongue press against hers.  Again, no response.  Her expression did not change.  I could barely stand the pressure against my zipper.  My hands were shaking again and my breath quickened, but this time it was not out of fear.  I knew I had to act fast.

Unbuttoning her jeans, I slid the zipper down and worked the tight fitting pants over her hips.  The blue, Victoria's Secret panties matched her discarded bra.  Her exposed thighs were milky-white, and I couldn't resist caressing them.  She had always kept in shape, but the firm, outlines of her muscles were harder now than I had ever remembered, and I realized that it wasn't exercise that had made them this way.  She felt . . . almost . . . artificial!  This however, didn't stop my hands as they continued their playful journey up her inner thighs.  Upon reaching her crotch, I ran two fingers down the front of her panties and began to massage her sex. 

"What's this?"  I teased my frozen lover.  I wasn't afraid anymore.  "You're shaving a little closer now, I see.  I like the 'landing strip' thing."

She didn't reply to my compliment.

Her jeans and panties were between her knees and ankles now, and I knew I would have to lay her down to get them the rest of the way off.

"Okay, Sweetie.  I'm gonna have to lay you on your back.  Don't be scared."  I reassured her.  I didn't know why I had started talking to her all of sudden.  I knew she couldn't hear me; or least I didn't think she could.  Even if she could, what good would reassurances from me do now?

I placed an arm behind her shoulders and the other around the front her waist and attempted to maneuver her onto the couch.  She was stiff as board!  It was more like trying to move a piece of furniture than a girl.  But I guess in her current state, she was just a piece of furniture.  A very sexy piece of furniture, indeed. 

Missy was not at all overweight, but right now she felt like she weighed a ton.  She had already started to solidify I guess, just like the old woman had warned. 

'Okay, easy does it,' I told myself.  But as I tilted her backward, I suddenly lost my grip.

"Damn, it!"  I said aloud as her upper body fell onto the couch with a heavy thud.  "Sorry, Missy."  Somehow I don't think she felt it, or heard my apology. 

Although her torso was now resting comfortably, her legs were still between the couch and the coffee table, and her entire body remained exactly as it had been while she was standing.  

I grimaced.  'It'll be a little easier now, . . . I guess.' 

I lifted her legs by the ankles and twisting her lower body slowly, I raised her feet to rest on the arm of the couch.  'There.' 

Within seconds, I had removed the remainder of her clothing as well as my own.  Then methodically, I moved on top of her and lowered my face toward her nether regions.  Her female scent, mixed with the body lotion nearly drove me mad.  I had to have her.  I had to have her now!  My cock was throbbing so hard that I thought I might explode before I even had the chance to enter her. 

It took an unthinkable amount of strength to spread her hardened legs.  But after some effort, I was able to do so and also elevate them slightly.  In the back of my mind, I'd hoped that they would wrap themselves around my waist like they done in the past, but I knew better.  They remained just as I had positioned them and I moved in between. 

I pressed myself against her cold, motionless body and used my hand to guide myself to that "special" spot.  There was no lubrication, which made it extremely difficult, and I realized that I was just in time.  The lips of her sex had become just as hard and unforgiving as the rest of her body, and as I penetrated her, it felt like I was making love to solid plastic.  Hell, I guess I was.  But after all, it was her; it was Missy. 

To my surprise, she was softer and warmer inside.  I guess the transformation hadn't fully claimed her yet.  I wondered how long it would be!  The rest of her body had almost completely solidified in less than an hour. 

God, she felt sooo, good!!  I don't know if it was the anticipation, or the fact that I was finally living out this fantasy of mine that got the better of me, but after only a few thrusts, I exploded inside her.  The enthusiasm that I felt at that moment was nothing like I'd ever experienced before in my lifetime.  It was absolutely amazing to be making love to this beautiful, yet inanimate woman.  The sad part was that she didn't even know it had happened. 

As good as the moment had been however, it only took a few seconds for me to begin to feel bad; just as I knew I would.  Guilty, sinful, ugly and cruel were all adjectives that swept my mind in description, if not damnation of myself.  Was I feeling bad about my premature ejaculation, or the fact that I had basically raped her?  A million thoughts raced through my head. 

'But why should I feel bad?' The devilish side of me thought.  'Hell, she wouldn't be disappointed or offended.  I could fuck her a hundred times right now and she'd never know the difference.' 

I sat in a nearby recliner in only my boxers, sipping a beer and taking long, slow drags off my cigarette.  I looked over to her naked body in the blue-glow of the television and noticed how she didn't move, didn't breathe; didn't do anything!  Her eyes stared straight up at the ceiling.  That same damned expression was on her face.  It hadn't changed a bit! 

Her legs were still elevated in the same position where I had left them, and a dried trickle of my manhood was still evident on her hardened stomach.  I would clean her up later.  Right now, it was almost ten o'clock and I planned on a short power-nap before I got back to business.  I remembered the old woman saying, "That you only have until midnight . . . " 

I didn't know exactly what that meant, but those words echoed in my head and it frightened me a little.  Would Missy wake up at midnight, or what?  I didn't know, and at that very moment, I honestly didn't care. 

I only knew that I had a little over two hours left to be with my frozen lady, but between the alcohol, the sex and the rush of feelings that I had experienced tonight, my eyes were growing heavy.  Eventually, I dosed off.


The End . . . (For now)?         

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