Ovid made a narrative. Jean Raoux made a painting. George Bernard Shaw made a play. Warner Bros made a movie. But it all started out because Pygmalion made Galatea. It was the story of a sculptor who fell in love with his own sculpture, which then came to life.
Neil wondered whether it could happen to him. It could, if the Gods were good. He sculpted with marble, unlike Pygmalion who worked with ivory. Elephants are too precious for that, then and now. He wondered whether the Gods would make his sculptures come to life, and whether there was any truth to the story of Pygmalion and Galatea.
Which sculpture would be his Galatea? He wasn't looking at the finesse of Michelangelo. His sculptures showed raw talent, and he could do the delicate work, like delicately carved out hands, or showing the delicate veins on the wrist or around the neck. He could do all of that, but he just didn't have the discipline. So he wondered whether the Gods would allow him a supernatural sculpture story.
Almost as if to make fun of him, the Gods, or the giant teapot, or the flying spaghetti monster, made it happen. Neil had just carved out his vision of Aphrodite. She was the mother load. She was the goddess of beauty. His vision just took into account his fine aesthetic sensibilities. He found big tits and big asses aesthetically pleasing. So his sculpture of Aphrodite had great big tits, real boulders on her, and an ass that was so well rounded and so powerful that one could be forgiven for patting it and expecting a reaction.
Neil didn't really pray. He simply sat around his sculpture wondering how she would be if she came to life. Then she came to life. She did not turn from marble to a flesh and blood goddess. Au contraire. The very marble came alive. It wasn't as if hard marble moved, however. It wasn't like an animated statue moving. It was as if her appearance remained the same, but her body became, warm and supple and if you touched her white marble colored skin, it felt like flesh. She wasn't as soft as the Pillsbury dough boy, but she wasn't marble either. Touching her felt exactly like touching a radiant woman of her age.
Her marble eyes twinkled, and she trained them on him. He froze. It was unsettling to have his wish happen. He hadn't exactly wished for this. She laid her hand on his. He felt a woman's arm against his, warm, breathing, pulsing. It wasn't the touch of marble.
He had built her larger than life, so she stood eight feet tall. She looked down at him, and he felt intensely alive and intensely scared. He had sculpted Aphrodite, and perhaps her spirit now warmed the marble and animated it.
She picked him up by the waist, and held her against her mouth, and those large Carrara lips crushed his. He felt a warm human tongue, dripping with saliva, pressing his own down. He surrendered to the feeling of being seduced.
She sat down, although he had sculpted her standing, with feet apart. Holding him in her arms, she walked to a great marble bench that he had sculpted several months ago, and sat down on it. She sat him on her lap, and tore off his pants with her white fingers. The sunlight that came in through his sun roof made her glow eerily.
She pulled his cock out of his briefs, and pumped it a couple of times. His cock was seven inches hard. So it appeared like a tiny brown worm, sitting there in her large gleaming white hands. She stroked it some more, and he noticed that all her fingers except her pinkie were larger than his cock.
She lay down on the floor, and laid him down on her, and allowed him to explore her giant body. He had sculpted giant breasts, and he played with those boulders now. He had sculpted her with one breast hanging free, peeping from the folds of her dress, while the other preserved her virtue. He moved the Carrara folds off her other breast as well, so she was naked from the waist up. He had sculpted only one of her nipples, but they were both present now. Larger than life, gleaming white, and pert. He sucked them for a few minutes, and felt something warm, thick and sweet enter his mouth.
He kissed her breasts once he was done drinking his fill from them. She smiled seductively at him, and patted her folds below. He understood. He was still lying down on her. He was sure that if they reversed positions he would be crushed.
He moved down, and pulled her single white draping off her loins. She had white pubic hair glistening against her pubic triangle that was the same color. He brushed it gently with his palm, and then moved his hand down, slipping two fingers into the folds of her marble sex. Her marmoreal labia responded to his touch, and was wet and warm. He probed deeper into her giant white cunt, and heard her moan something in a language he didn't recognize.
He pulled back his fingers, and inserted his cock into her folds. He started making love to this living marble version of Aphrodite. He could not kiss her, since she was eight feet, and he was shy of six, and they had their loins lined up. So he settled for stroking, slapping and crushing her giant breasts as much as he could. She moaned in pleasure from both the penetration, which couldn't have been very much, given the sheer size of her cunt, and his manipulation of her tits.
Her marmoreal charms became even more alive as he approached his climax, and realized that his white jizz would be inside her white folds very soon. He wondered whether she would birth a little baby made of living, supple marble, as a result.
He wasn't destined to know. After he had filled her with his seed, she caught him by the shoulders, and moved him up to her face, so that he could kiss her. He didn't realize it, but it was one last kiss. He kissed her, and felt marble inside him. He felt cold inside and outside, but he saw that her alabaster white limbs were gaining a ruddy color.
She reduced in size, until she was only six feet tall. But he felt that she was a lot smaller, because he towered at eight feet now. He looked at his own hands in dismay, seeing all the color drain out of them. Aphrodite looked up at him, and her white eyes now were a gleaming aquamarine. Her marmoreal hair was a striking golden now. Her nipples were a bright red, and her pubic thatch gleamed golden. He gasped at her beauty, and wondered why she looked so small. Then he felt something closing in on his vision, as if a circular shutter that was marble white was slowly closing in each of his eyes.
She laughed, looking at the eight foot statue made of Carrara marble. It had a look of alarm, and the look of someone who has realized something too late. It was naked and it had a shriveled cock and balls. She laughed louder, cocked her head to one side, and headed out into the world of men and women, waiting to be seduced.