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Sara looked up expectently when she heard the sound of the inner door opening, watching Mrs. Harris' clean, professional figure exit carrying two lemonades. Miss Harris, Anne Harris, wore a knee length black skirt with a white dress shirt, partially unbuttoned to offer a healthy view of her substantial clevage. Her silky black hair, owed to her quarter asian heritage, slipped over her right shoulder as she leaned forward, giving Sara a lemonade and a clear view of her voluptuous rack.
Anne took a seat next to Sara and brushed her hair back, starting their normal chit-chatty conversation, "Still no summer job, Sara?"
Sara, 15, wanted nothing more than to work like her friends, but in her small town most of the summer jobs were reserved for family or had been siezed by more motivated high schoolers, "Nope, I've canvassed the whole town. Looks like I'm out of luck this summer, unless someone gets fired."
"That's too bad. Getting that summer income is pretty important at your age," Anne paused before continuing, "You probably wouldn't be interested, but I'd be willing to pay you to mow my lawn and do some general yard care."
Sara thought hard, how low would she stoop for that money? "I suppose so, some money's better than none. Not like I have anything to do while my friends are at work, aside from our lunches. Thanks Miss Harris."
"I'll leave the shed open for tools and the back door, too, in case you'd like to use the rest room or take a break. There's Coke and more lemonade in the fridge."
Sara and Miss Harris finished their lemonade then looked around the yard for jobs. By the time Miss Harris left for work Sara had more than enough to do for the day. She mowed the lawn and weeded the gardens out front and along the house. About the time she finished the gardens Sara decided she should take a break and hit the rest room. To her dismay she found the back door locked, she dashed around to the front but it was locked too. Sara almost gave up and ran home when she remembered seeing a basement window slightly ajar while weeding along the house.
The window was pretty rusty but Sara pulled on it anyway, hard but without much hope. Surprisingly the window popped right open, its sudden release landing Sara on her butt. 'Certainly Miss Harris wouldn't mind, she just forgot to unlock the front door,' Sara thought before she slipped legs first into the basement. When she turned around Sara was confronted with a finely carved gray stone statue. From behind it looked every inch the height of ancient art, well detailed muscles and an athlete's ass. What she saw from the front gave her pause, an enormous, erect phallus protruded from the statue's crotch.
While staring at the statue, and it's cock, an irresistable curiosity came over Sara. Unthinking, she stepped toward the statue and reached down, gently touching the cock. It was hard, as she'd expected, but surprisingly warm. Sara pumped her hand a few times, giving the statue a little hand job before turning to find the rest room, giggling on her way out of the room.
However, something grabbed her from behind, one hand holding either side of her abdomen in an impossibly strong, vice-like grip. She was steadily lifted clear of the ground, the hands dug into her stomach terribly and offered her absolutely no flexability. Sara flailed her legs wildly, kicking the legs of her assailant, screaming, and pleading; but it didn't respond. Sara found herself tipping forward and coming down, a little. The descent stopped when she felt a pressure between her legs, starting a renewed flurry of protests and pleadings, hoping that she wouldn't be raped, praying that it wasn't the statue holding her.
The pressure began to move along her slit, over her clothes. It had drawn from front to back to front when the seam of her shorts and crotch of her panties ripped open shearing material and threading perfectly to expose her virgin pussy. The invading member touched her gently before slowly, steadily, slipping deep inside her. Sara knew, from school and her parents, that there should be pain, but there was none. All she felt was an intoxicating tingle that spread from her pussy, suffusing her body and stalling her resistance.
The mystery cock pumped slowly in and out of her pussy, intensifying the wonderful feeling with each thrust. Sara's hips began rocking against each thrust without her consent. She tried to stop, but found her lower body unresponsive.
As the thrusts deepend Sara's feeling intensified until it bordered on pain, then it exploded a thousand times itself. Her limbs shook uncontrollably and her eyes rolled into the back of her head while torrents of her cum rolled down her thighs and the thighs of the statue.
A few creaking groans from below her were all the warning Sara got before something let loose and she spilled to the floor. Sara held herself on all fours momentarily but her arms and legs gave out and she collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.