Tomb Raider/Sheena: Rocky (Patreon)

“They certainly didn’t let any stone go to waste, now did they?”

Lara Croft licked her lips unthinkingly staring at the statue, and especially the statue’s cock, which surely the sculptor’s chisel had barely touched. It was like the block of stonework the whole statue must’ve emerged from, only in miniature—not that much miniature. More like a microcosm, if Lara were to use her public school education.

The statue was of a man, reclining on his back on top of some sort of pedestal or altar. The platform was overgrown with the surrounding vines, the omnipresent greenness of the South American jungle, but the statue itself was barely touched by a vine or creeper. It was all white, limestone maybe, not discolored at all but the same alabaster sediment all over.

Maybe eight feet tall, with the superhuman proportions that Lara provincially associated with the Greek gods. The thick arms, the sculpted legs, the ropey tendons and bulging muscles—it was all conveyed with skill enough to make this piece the envy of any museum around the world. But Lara doubted any of them would actually display it. Even for an artistic sophisticate, that cock was just too much.

Obscene, really. Clearly erect, seeming to throb under her hot gaze. The helmet was thick, the shadow its own bulk cast giving it an almost purple hue… Lara imagined that broad, flared cockhead forcing her labia apart and then splitting her walls well and truly open.

She shuddered. It was a good thing whoever had modeled for this sculpture—it seemed far too realistically detailed to be a flight of fancy—was long dead. Lara didn’t know if she could resist such a big, beautiful prick. She didn’t know if she should either.

“I don’t suppose you know the way to the Fountain of Life, eh Rocky?” she asked the unnervingly lifelike statue, strolling about it to look for clues—barely noticing she was working herself closer and closer to that literally rock-hard phallus. “This does seem to be some sort of sacred site… these trees were planted at regular intervals and no civilization would leave a big fellow like you out in the middle of nowhere… but what’s around here to sanctify? A spring? Some sort of well? Access to an underground river—oh bloody Christ.”

She gave in and let her eyes be drawn back to the cock, the erection; simply calling it a penis didn’t do it justice. If this monster were ever used for urination, the sculptor had been careful to leave out any such prosaic applications. All Lara saw in the artwork was fucking.

Her gaze was locked to the huge prick. It really was absurd in its realism. The skin looked smooth as glass over the cockhead, which bulged like it would burst if even one more drop of hot blood coursed through it.

Lara licked her lips again, blinking as she looked at little glanshole that topped this tower. In the staccato rhythm of her trying to clear her head, the little slit seemed to be opening and closing in tiny spasms, moving in time with the beat of her racing heart.

Lara looked away, then looked back. Blue, blood-full veins ran the entire length of the member, close to the surface—like blood clinging to some powerful weapon. Lara shuddered and felt her nipples, crammed into the tight tanktop that now barely had room for their engorgement. I’m not actually getting turned on, am I? It’s a blooming mannequin! For God’s sake!

Forcing her attention away from the commanding statue, Lara was aware of something rustling its way through the surrounding jungle. She quickly moved to take shelter in a hollow tree trunk. It was a tight squeeze, but it gave Lara time to get her bearings rather than spraying whatever it was with hot lead at first sight.

She drew her twin Heckler & Koch USPs, holding them at the ready as she crouched down to minimize her profile. In the darkness of the hollowed-out tree, she gave little sign of her presence—but she always credited the opposition with senses equal, if not superior, to her own.

Then her fellow tourist came into view… and Lara could not have been more surprised. It was a woman. Emphatically a woman. Tall to the point of statuesque, muscular but still slender, and with breasts and hips just in excess of proportions. Lovely golden hair fanned about her gorgeous face; while a few scars crisscrossed her nearly naked body, none of them detracted from her sensuality and neither did they even touch her face.

Lara ran her eyes over that exquisite figure. Three scraps of ocelot hide were all that concealed either breast and her pubis. Lara assumed another length was in back, protecting her derriere—surely, however small the ocelot had been, she’d skinned enough material for that.

Her breasts were flawless in their disregard for gravity—full and proud, with an imprint of nipples showing through the thin fabric holding them. Her stomach was flat, her waist narrow, her legs long—very long. Little tricks of the air caused her loincloth to stray and Lara saw that this jungle goddess was a natural blonde; the hair on her loins so light and naturally thin that it gave the appearance of not being there at all, except when it caught the light and revealed itself in its dewy fineness.

To Lara’s surprise, the woman no sooner arrived on the scene than she undressed. Wiggling out of the little bra that held her magnificent breasts, then slipping the loincloth down her legs. Naked, she was even more of a vision—Lara unthinkingly squeezed her legs together and felt a jolt of pleasure, even more of anticipation.

Those pointlessly showy bits of fluff that’d censored the woman so briefly had made her nakedness both tease and fulfillment, in the tradition of strip joints everywhere. Lara found herself biting her lip, waiting for the show to continue.

This had to be the local legend, Sheena. And if anyone knew where the Fountain of Life would be, it’d be another legend. Lara could follow her, once she was done here… and of course, if she alerted Sheena, she might just put her little bathing suit back on. No need to rush that.

Lara set her guns down. In an emergency, she could scoop them right up off the ground. But in the meantime, she cupped her own well-sized breasts. Her nipples stood up hard, stinging Lara with their stiffness. She swallowed the gasp she wanted to let out and rubbed softly at their hardness.

When next she looked at Sheena, the blonde had mounted the statue, straddling it just underneath that awe-inspiring erection.

“Rocky, you dog,” Lara muttered under her breath, feeling unreasonably pleased that Sheena had gone ahead and done what Lara hadn’t let herself consider. “Have a thing for loose women, do we? Well, she’d best be loose, if she’s going to consort with you…”

Sheena had Rocky’s prick in her hands, working it like a miniature stripper pole, rubbing it on the outside of her sex as she slowly pumped her hips up and down… flattening her toned ass on Rocky’s thighs, then coming back up to let her buttocks spring to their full curvaceousness. Lara craned her head for a closer look. The head of the stone prick slid smoothly along Sheena’s labia and across her erect little clit.

Lara felt a little moan coming up her throat, trying to imagine how that cool stone would feel on her overheated body.

“Nasty girl,” she opined. “But at least you’re having a time of it… go on, enjoy yourself, you dirty bitch… least you don’t have to worry about erectile dysfunction with that particular prong…”

Lara could see Sheena’s face. There was no lack of pleasure in it. Her eyes were closed and her jaw moved in little delighted paroxysms, circling around and grinding, then going slack as the feeling of her masturbation got to her.

She was in no state to detect Lara watching and Lara, an unabashed libertine, knew she couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste. She rarely got a chance at really good sex in her line of work—really good masturbation could not be passed up either.

Reaching down into her shorts, Lara drove two fingers into her hungry pussy. She rocked her hips forward, further fucking herself on her own fingers; they went as deep as they could into her cunt.

Lara threw her head back while she pumped her fingers into her convulsing sex. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, she sought to keep pace with Sheena’s own pleasure. And as she did it to herself, she imagined that statue was underneath her instead of Sheena, his big cock ready for her ready snatch.

“Lucky cunt,” she murmured, not sure if she was referring to Sheena or just a part of Sheena.