Friends, Deep and Hard

by StatStat


Keira and Kyle were old friends, since they played together in the neighborhood evenings as kids. People always put their names together when they were calling out the kids on the street, probably just because of the alliteration, but that was enough association that they took notice of each other even across the gender divide, and, slowly, they spent more and more time hanging out until they became steady presences in each other’s lives. They were cool kids, both of them – sympathetic, smart, easygoing – and it made sense that they’d end up as allies in the challenges of youth. By the time they were in college the two friends trusted each other deeply, having shared the intimate details of their histories without flinching, secure in the knowledge that the other understood them even at their weakest. They enjoyed a filter-less honesty with one another.

As it often is with thoughtful types they were experimental. They liked drugs. Exploring alternate states was a hobby, and that’s what they were getting around to this evening in Kyle’s dorm room. Keira was up for the weekend. The common-room in the little suite was quiet, all the roommates having gone home or to girlfriends’ places, the windows were open a bit to let in the cool air of the summer night, but the door was closed to ensure them the kind of insulated privacy they were looking for. She’d brought a little baggie of something not too unlike weed in appearance, another gift from her own roommate who was awesome, by Kyles’s estimation – a down-to-earth hippie type with the kind of encyclopedic knowledge of substances that made you feel like you could go a little further out there without grossly endangering yourself. Keira took a long drag on the joint she’d rolled with it, blew out the slightly-greener-than-normal smoke, and half-lidded her eyes as she leaned back atop the chair-arm and stretched her legs out.

“Oh fuck, that’s got a nice kick.”

Kyle took a draw on the beer they’d been sharing, then set it down on the table and took the joint she two-fingered towards him. He pulled, held the smoke in his lungs a long moment, then exhaled. The feeling settled in, pleasant floating but heavy at the same time…. languorous, the word’d be. “Yeah. It’s got a body-thing going on too.”

“I like it,” she said in her sonorous voice, looking over in his direction. Kyle was loosening the buttons at his collar, getting more comfortable. “You got the right idea.” She peeled her shirt off over her head as she said it and started shimmying her shorts and panties down her waist. When they were on the floor she looked up again and caught a wider-eyed look from him than she expected. “Too much?”

He hesitated a second. “No. I’m with you,” and slithered out of his own clothes. The high was deepening a little. The air caressed their skin. He settled back in the chair, kicked an ankle over his knee and looked at her. Up and down, and saw she was doing the same. He felt those eyes.

The same puzzling thoughts were going through each of their heads, and they knew it.

“Why haven’t we fucked?” she said, bluntly, as he cherished. “Strike that. We’ve never seen each other that way.”

“Yeah,” he answered with deep agreement, looking square at the face of his friend, a face he knew as well as his own. It gave him every kind of good feeling. They had that kind of love for one another, unposessive, strong enough that they took it for granted. Now both of their eyes roamed unembarassed over other parts.

“But now, we’re horny. This stuff Sage gave me’s probably some of it. Are you feeling it?”

Kyle realized she meant feeling it like down for it. They both wanted sex and they were together and he honestly couldn’t think of a single reason why not.

He answered her by rising from the chair, and his penis rose too. He felt like everything about him was pointing at her. And she didn’t shrink from anything about it, but stalked forward to meet his penetrating energy, breathing hard. She was dripping. This fucking drug! Their bodies stopped for just a moment, hands poised in reach towards each other, chests and pelvises just a few inches apart, and stared into each other’s eyes, simultaneously shrugging off the subtle inhibitions of the years past. Then they fell on one another, hands and mouths and the long smooth stretches of skin drawn together. Keira bit his lip tenderly. He grabbed her under her butt and carried her back towards the couch, laying her out and falling on top of her. They knew what they wanted, they’d told plenty of tales to each other about their other encounters, in plenty of detail too. They kissed each other all over. He ran the tip of his tongue around one of her nipples and she gasped. Kyle ran over to the desk drawer, tore a condom off the strip and opened it on the way back. She reached down and grabbed his dick, curling her gentle fingers around the shaft, doing something obscenely nice with her palm to the tip. He ran his fingers up the inside of her leg, then cupped her vulva. Shot her an intense look. She fired back like a battleship. “Fuck me.” He rolled the condom on and pressed his penis to her vaginal lips, and she guided him in. Her eyebrows went high and she moaned as they started pumping together. A grin broke out across her face. “……friend.” Kyle laughed and gave her one of those open smiles of absolute love that only the utterly connected can give. So did she, though her laughs each gave way to an “Oh” of pleasure, and soon their faces had gone serious, their brows furrowed as they built towards something neither had achieved before alone. She was on top now. They were slowing down, the strokes were intense enough, and the drug feeling had settled in and was forcing their limbs to bend more deliberately.

They were enthralled by the sex. By the time they realized the effects weren’t normal, not even for the kind of weird shit Sage got, they were already too stiff to do anything. It hit Adam first, hard… hard. She was humping up and down his stiff penis too fast, even though she was actually going very slow, he was too close, he wanted to ask her to slow down but his lips opened so slowly. He was going to come… he felt it building, building…….. he was going to come….. god, was he going to come? He was rock hard and every thrust she made pushed him higher…

“Keir-a…” he managed, and stopped moving entirely.

She had felt him go impossibly hard under and inside her, it was driving her wild, but now she looked down and as she saw Kyle’s skin paling to grey, his eyes going opaque as he looked desperately into hers and, looking back, the ready orgasm swelled powerfully between her legs, around his stone cock, and her already slowing undulations hardened in mid-thrust.

“Ky-…!” she squeaked.

He saw her jerk, her face got that pursed look that he knew meant she was coming, but it didn’t resolve. She didn’t relax. They were both locked in the clench of orgasm, stiff as statues but wanting to scream with passion, and she was becoming a statue right on top of him.


They stiffened, tightened together, turned grey and dense and flattened down the cushions of the couch and cracked the wooden frame, the shudder going through the both of them. They felt it all like more sex.


Her stone hands were cradling his stone hips and his on her behind, the solid rod of his penis, still sheathed in latex, buried in the stone folds of her vulva.


Neither of them could believe it. It went on like this as the seconds passed, then the minutes. They couldn’t move anymore than a marble sculpture in a museum could. The orgasms seemed to calcify like their bodies had, deepening, tightening, intensifying into static physical bliss. Still and silent, overwhelmed by feeling that didn’t subside, each of them struggled to reconcile what was going on not only to themselves but to their closest friend and sudden lover. Eyes fixed permanently on each other, they instinctively understood what was going on in the other’s mind.

An hour passed in this worldless dialogue, the statue that was the two of them unable to do anything but stand, petrified in earnest fucking while the cool breeze came in the windows and wafted over and between their stone skins. The tension trapped inside sent them into places no drug could, second after long second, each minute like an eon, and so much becoming clear to them. By the time the second hour had passed, with the dawning permanence of their situation sinking in, they both slowly realized that if they were going to be trapped as an object forever, coming endlessly through decades, there was nobody else they would want to do it with more. And they accepted it, and even though their sex organs couldn’t relax, their souls relaxed into the endless climax, and they reveled in one another’s joy and pleasure.

As the early light of dawn colored the two pleasure-wracked stone faces of the friends, a hand touched the smooth stone of Keira’s back. Sage smiled a beautific smile and looked over their naked, interlocked forms. “You’re gorgeous,” she whispered to the both of them, her hand eagerly stroking her own clitoris underneath her flowing dress. “You gotta forgive me. I know I deceived you guys, and you didn’t get to choose for yourself. But since the first time I saw you both together I knew you were so fucking in love, and pure, pure… I knew I was going to do this. I know what you’re feeling. I know you love it.” She said the last part with a wide, wicked smile, reached down with her other hand and gripped Kyles stone-stiff penis, and through another surge of feeling he felt the condom break and disappear. “I’m more than just a hippie, Keira. More than human. So are you, now, my beautiful ever-coming statues.”

They couldn’t hold this against her. Sage stood over them and started to move her hands in archaic gestures, pregnant with miraculous potential. “I’ll tell you guys about it over the centuries when I come to visit you, on your pedestal in the garden.” They came again, or more like still, together, as they had for hours now, and as they knew almost joyfully that they’d continue to do, the only thing they’d be able to do, from now on.