The Precious Touch

by Gildsoul

Copyright © 2000 by Gildsoul


Part 2: Golden Golddigger

Pamela Eclair glided through the entrance to the sitting room, ordinary people walked, she on the other hand moved with such elegance she literally floated.

A few years before Miss Eclair had been the covergirl for every beauty and fashion magazine on the planet. By the time she was 19 earning over a million dollars a year as a top supermodel in everything from photo spreads, advertisements, fashion shows and swimsuit calendars. The mere sight of her sent men into a daze and tinged women green with envy.

She wasnít a 10, she was an 11, absolute perfection, from her exquisite feet, stunning legs, fantastic body, breasts, arms, hands and a face so perfect it was angelic. Pamelaís heavenly proportions were a knockout, with skin was so immaculate if she were to stand still in a dress shop people would assume that they were looking at a store display. The only other females with such flawless physical perfection were department store mannequins; it was if a magician has cast a spell turning plastic to flesh and she had just walked out of a store window.

Her walk was pure feminine grace, the tap of her high heeled shoes upon the hardwood floor announcing the arrival of a goddess, Carlís heart sped up, matching, then passing the tempo of her footsteps, his loins warming, breath deepening. As she crossed the door's threshold, her aura filled the room; in the presence of such rare beauty all men sensed a magical force permeating the air like the electric charge. Wearing an ivory colored satin gown and gloves that looked almost painted on, matching purse and a mink coat around her shoulders, she was a vision beyond compare. Then he noticed, it...

Prancing along side her on a short leash was Fifi, her toy poodle, a nervous, yapping bundle of pedigreed inbreeding that was her latest pet.

"Oh well" Thought Carl, "No day is absolutely perfect."

He did like animals, especially dogs, but Fifi had one little irritating, no, very irritating, character flaw. The pooch wanted to be with itís master all the time, even brief separations started a very aggravating bout of whimpering. The last time they had a romantic encounter and were just starting to have some serious fun there came a whining, scratching and yipping at the bedroom door. It was the little canine runt crying because it was lonely. Pamela jumped out of bed and went to console her "Little Fifi"; this happened several times in succession, ruining a night with the girl of his dreams and putting Fifi on his "list".

"Hello Carl, and look who I have with me, yes, my little cute Fifi, awww!" She cooed as she picked up the diminutive doggie and shoved itís muzzle in his face."

Carl patted the dogs head, as always the pest was so cute as to be aggravating.

"Lucky for you, I have a soft spot for animals, you little varmint!" Carl thought, almost wishing he could utter it out loud.

"I hope he doesnít get so upset when youíre away from him?" He queried."

"Oh, when little Fifi was lonely?" Pamela giggled, "Iíve been sending cutie pie to a dog psychologist for his anxiety attacks, Fifiís on Prozac for a while to help him cope when Iím away, isnít that right my little Fifi, awww...."

He did notice that the little fur ball did seem to be a little less hyper, so the doggie was on drugs, maybe tonight it would shut up and heíd score.

"Ohhh, thatís a impressive statue!" Pamela finally noticed the glass maid standing in as an end table for the sofa, "Carl where did you get such a wonderful piece of glass sculpture?"

"Oh it was specially created by an artist whose identity I choose not to divulge, I will say that it is French."

"Ah, from France, most likely from a glass studio in Paris, the French make wonderful art !" Pamela moved closer to Catherine, awed by her sparkling form.

"Yes the French do make fine works of art." Carl laughed.

"Say, it kind of looks like one of your servants?"

"Oh, the statue is Catherine, one of my maids, she went on a months vacation just yesterday." It was the truth...

Pamela sighed, "Itís so beautiful, I bet she was so happy being made into a statue."

"Oh, I guarantee sheís is very content." Carl said, a keen smirk on his face.

"Oh Carl, could you have this done for me, I mean make a statue of me, it would be so cool!"

His shrewd grin grew even wider, "Oh; if you want, I could arrange it..."

At nightfall they ate at a five star restaurant, making small talk over champagne and an excellent meal, all this time little Fifi was at her feet begging for table scraps and attention .

Later his chauffeur drove them back to his estate for an evening of conversation and hopefully, enjoyment beyond mere dialogue.

In his sitting room the couple began to kiss passionately as they cuddled on one of the sofas. Carl gently pulled off one of her gloves with his teeth as Pamela giggled, slightly tipsy from the bubbly they had partaken. Gently kissing her lovely hand he slowly moved up her satiny smooth arm kiss by kiss until reaching her shoulder. He rubbed his moist lips along her bosom and worked his way up her neck, making tiny pecks along the way in advance of a final long drawn out kiss planted upon her lips. Pamela embraced him harder as they kissed and moved her hand between his legs and stroked his loins, feeling the stiffened member inside of pants struggling for release .

She started to get up, still passionately kissing him, Knowing what the message meant, he picked her up in his arms and carried her upstairs to his master bedroom. Soon he lay her upon the satin sheets of the large ornate bed that was the centerpiece of his love chamber.

She put her hand up, stopping him. "Carl!" Her voice teasing," Let me put on something special I packed in my bags." She got up, winked and glided out of the bedroom to the adjacent dressing room. He hurriedly stripped, then lay back on the bed, the joyous face on his reflection staring down at him from the mirrored ceiling above.

Then he felt a sniffing at his feet, it was Fifi, having followed them upstairs. He got an idea, sitting up he reached down to pat the animated pooch on top of itís head. An instant later Fifi was completely silent and no longer quivering for attention. Carl picked up the porcelain dog figurine and lay it on itís side in a dresser drawer, cushioned on some towels, closed the drawer quietly, then jumped back on the bed.

The little runt would be a nice little doggie tonight; be oh so quiet and leave them so undisturbed; yeah!

"I thought I would put on something more appropriate." Pamelaís voice came from her silhouetted form standing in the doorway. She walked into the dim light, the expected lingerie nonexistent, birthday suit her apparel or lack of.

Carl gasped, stunned by her naked loveliness, he was one of the chosen few, to be with her, Pamela Eclair, the object of every mans wet dreams, it was really happening!

She gave off a love starved cry and jumped into his arms as they began passionate foreplay upon the silky smooth surface of the bedcovers. They groped and panted, as they stoked each other in the fires of passion, moans of joy echoing from the walls. Their sexual enfolding was celestial, sex with this wild temptress was so incredible, so titanic a pleasure as to be beyond description.

He rose upon her, his stiffened member sliding smoothly into her waiting pleasure, she gasped with exultation as he entered her. Pumping slowly at first, then faster and faster, as the bed springs squeaked in tempo with every downward plunge of his pelvis. Pamela arched her back, head flung back in ecstasy, fingers digging into the bed sheets, wails of joy leaping from her throat as they approached the summit. Both reached climax at the same instant, their passion filled shouts of rapture mixing into a chorus.

As Carl was atop her, his fevered mind was filled only with thoughts of her, her perfect body, as precious as gold, yes, as good as "gold!" In his love saturated state he forgot about his power, at the very moment of sexual climax his precious touch came into play.

Pamelaís luscious body became purest gold, soft flesh turning instantaneously to unyielding rigidity, supple body suddenly unmoving metal. Gold, the noblest of precious metals, dense, heavy, lustrous, gold, her lithe form suddenly weighing over a ton. There was a sudden creaking, and a crash as the bed broke, collapsing under the awesome burden of heavy metal, the mattress beneath with a Pamela shaped indentation pressed into it.

Carl bounced against her solidified form, as her golden bottom, cushioned by the thick mattress and splintered wood of the bed slammed against the floor with a loud clang like an anvil struck by a sledge hammer. He groaned as he pulled his fingertips out from under her shoulders, wedged painfully between her and the compressed mattress. Luckily he had been atop in the missionary position, her arms aside her, else he might of been crushed by her massive weight or trapped by the metallic embrace of her golden arms. His penis was embedded in solid metal, her vagina had hardened around his fully erect member, it came out easily once his erection subsided.

Withdrawing, rolling off, he lay beside her panting, his buttocks nestled in the crease formed in the bed by the tonnage of a kings ransom in gold..

"Now thatís what I call HARD sex!" He thought, "Iím going to have to be more careful with my thoughts during intercourse, else I have to buy a new bed every time!"

He began to examine Pamelaís golden body, frozen at the moment of climax into a lovely golden sculpture, back arched, head thrown back and legs spread wide, a gilded monument to passion. The lustrous gold was still warm from her body heat, itís hardness felt erotic, his erection started to sprout again.

An attractive woman was sometimes described as having a "hard body", in Pamelaís case she had a really, really "hard" body. There were smooth indentations on her, realizing it was the physical impression from his body frozen into her when she turned to gold. Touching her heavy metal body started to get him really turned on, as much as the touch of a womanís soft skin. He carefully reached out telepathically to her mind, trying to sense what she was experiencing.

"OHHH YESSSSS, OHHHH, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!"

Her golden orgasm was so strong that he was almost overpowered by the slight touch of her mental pleasure. Having been blocking her thoughts, just opening a door slightly to her mind was like peering into a cyclone of sexual joy. He realized that being transmuted into gold at the moment of sexual climax had amplified her pleasure a thousand fold!

Just like the maid Catherine, her joy was magnified, but the glass maid had not been in the throes of sexual climax when turned to glass, Pamela had been transformed at a carnal peak and her pleasure was beyond even Catherineís. It would be difficult to get through to her in her mental state, she would be oblivious to everything.

The mental leakage of her ultra orgasm was starting to get him ultra horny. He climbed back on her gleaming body and began kissing and licking her hard shinny surface. There was a slight metallic taste as he licked her, very pleasant, the flavor of gold, wonderful, glorious gold!

He snuggled into the indentations his body had left in her. His erect penis slid into her wide open golden cunt, a perfect fit; feeling it sliding through the ultra smooth gold channel inside her sent an incredible sexual thrill through him.

He began to bump and grind against her hard body, rubbing against the impenetrable firmness of metal instead of soft pliant flesh made it a extraordinary novel experience. It was even better than the episode with the glass maid, when he had been unable to enter, her crystal pleasure having been locked shut, sealed under steel hard glass.

Pamelaís was wide open, he pumped furiously, almost bruising himself against her exterior, his passion slamming against a wonderful golden wall. He came, detached, rolled over and fell asleep nestled against her, satisfied, smile on his face.

He woke up shivering from cold, the reddish glow of dawn filling the room. Pamelaís solid gold body had cooled down to room temperature during the night, the cold metal against him bringing on a chill. He got up, took a hot shower, dried off and returned wearing a bathrobe for warmth.

He walked over to the bed and stood over the statue, then whispered, "Here goes."

He touched the golden Pamela and she was restored.

"YESSSSssssss, Oh, Oh, Oh, That was incredible, what did you do to me, Iíve never had sex like that before, I could of stayed that way forever, it was so Incredible!"

She sat up, panting, staring at him, a smile and look of wonder upon her lovely face, he sensed an insatiable hunger for more in her eyes.



Read "The Precious Touch, Part Three", coming soon!

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