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Asami never thought she'd stoop so low but, well, here she was. Call her a badger mole.
Piercing green eyes landed on stone, every chisel and crevice a perfect replica of her friend, Avatar Korra. It was only a scale model, made to Korra’s exact height. The real statue would be much bigger, something fitting for Republic City’s park and for Korra. The scale model? She’d keep in her own personal garage. She had better uses for it there.
Better… but not good.
“Spirits, what am I doing?” Asami ran a shaky hand through her hair. It was hard to tell what she was shaking from. Nerves? Fear? Excitement?
Probably all three.
“I shouldn't– I should just leave…” she tried to convince herself…and failed. This was a long time coming.
She was like an animal trapped in a pit. No way out but up. Doing nothing wouldn't help her predicament, so climbing the mud-slick walls would have to do.
And this was certainly a mud-slicked slippery slope…
Asami shook her head, no. She'd already decided. She wouldn't talk herself out of it, even though she should. But she knew it'd be a fruitless endeavor. This was going to happen at some point, so long as her feelings remained adrift and aimless; she may as well be in charge of this feeling…
She finally took a step forward towards the statue. Face to face, she could finally take in every intricate detail of her friend. Painstakingly studied from various photos made reality into the marble before her.
A sad laugh escaped her lips. “I wonder how out of date this will be when you return, you may have changed on me… I mean, three years is a long time, you know?”
Her heart constricted into a deadly vice grip that reached all the way up into her throat too. Korra had left because she needed to heal from the poison… And Asami had waved her off as Korra went back to her home country to do just that. She didn't go not because she didn't love her friend, quite the opposite. Asami only wanted the best for Korra. But Korra didn't want her there…and she needed to respect it.
But respecting Korra's wishes didn't dull the fire in her. She’d been holding it in for so long. Restraining it just as it was growing to a point she wasn’t going to be able to hold back, only to have to muzzle it. She did everything she could to keep the fire contained, but now it was becoming dangerous. She was either going to burn herself, or those around her if she didn’t do something to satiate it.
She cupped the statue’s face, it was hard and smooth, refusing to give way to her thumb as she stroked the cheekbone. It was nothing like her Korra, but it’d have to do.
Bright emerald eyes bore into the carved white marble, wishing they were the piercing blue that used to stare back at her. Heart hammering against her breastbone, she closed her eyes and let her imagination and wants lead the way. Asami leaned down and pressed her lips against the unyielding surface of the statue’s.
Her soft lips conformed to the statue’s. They moved and glided, dipped and tried again and again. But it didn’t matter how many times she attempted, didn’t matter how much her tongue begged for an entrance. The statue’s lips would never part for her.
Frustrated, she moved one hand around the neck, imagined plunging her fingers into the Avatar’s hair. Her other hand moved down to the statue’s bicep, her thumb caressing and trailing down a vein that had been carved.
She tried, but nothing worked. Asami pulled away unsatiated, looking at the statue’s now lipstick-stained face. That wasn’t the only stain she was going to leave tonight. No, this wasn’t enough, she’d need to go further.
Asami walked away to the machine stationed nearby and grabbed the harness. She looped it around the strongest point on the statue and made sure it was secure. Then she went back over to the machine and maneuvered it so that the statue was lying down on its back. Once the statue was set, she went over and undid the harness. Throwing it aside, she gazed down at the perfect replica.
I can still turn back. As if she could. As if her fingers weren’t already unzipping the side of her skirt. As if she wasn’t already stepping out of said skirt. As if she wasn’t planting a high heel on either side of the statue’s head.
As if she wasn’t wearing panties under her pantyhose, if they tore it’d be direct contact.
She shivered at the thought, anticipated and relished that it’d happen. Wondered if the statue's smooth lips would feel as good as she imagined.
Asami lowered herself down so she was hovering over the Korra statue’s face. The sound of her heavy breathing echoed throughout the lab, it was barely audible over her pounding heart sending a tsunami rush of blood to her ears.
She admired the shape of her lips once more, the slope of her nose. A perfect replica of the one she wanted. Asami reached down and caressed the cheekbone.
“If only you were the real one,” she said, pained, before closing the last few inches.
The stone was cold against her warmth. The shock caused her to gasp, but need and instinct quickly took over. The first rut was slow, indulging in the feeling of having Korra’s lips finally touch her the way she wanted. Taking in how each dip, bow, and curve felt with each drag. All the way up to where she would hit her clit on the flat of the nose.
Each stroke ended with a whimper or cry of pleasure. Soon she was picking up the pace, frantic. The sound of fabric tearing could be heard but Asami was too far gone to care. Her hands shot towards the statue’s head, attempting to twist her fingers in the locks but to no avail. She moved one hand to the bicep, clinging to it for dear life. Her other hand roamed her body, she needed to feel like she was being touched. Pretending it was Korra touching her.
Asami could feel the wetness between her thighs, feel it dripping from the statue’s face. If the object could breathe, it surely would’ve been drowning.
She could feel herself reaching her crescendo. She picked up her pace, and with one final hard thrust, grabbed at the statue’s head screaming Korra’s name. Her vision blackened and she saw stars and for a moment it didn’t feel like she was alone with a statue.
Asami came back to her senses with the sound of her own harsh breathing echoing around the lab. For a brief moment, she had to fight to keep the guilt from ruining the mood. She lifted herself up slightly, wanting to see just how bad the aftermath was. Her pantyhose were ripped, and her cum pooled around Korra’s face.
Yeah… Definitely would’ve drowned her. She thought with amusement.
Asami wiped at the face with her thumb, her red lipstick had mixed in with the wetness. It looked good on Korra, pretty. She looked down towards the statue’s waist, and the guilt was quickly replaced by a new fire being stoked. She wasn’t done yet, she had a few more things she’d like to try.