He stirred the coffee, almost paying no attention to the process, like a spoon in a mug creates a funnel from a dark liquid. A man, not quite young, but not aged, was sitting at a round table, which was only a mug. He looked in front of him, at a piece of marble, the upper part of which was a woman with a face thrown into the sky, she pressed her hands between two poured breasts, and from the waist down she walked a continuous piece of stone.

The sculptor put the mug aside and sipped his coffee, a wave of heat swept through his body. All his attention and thoughts were focused on this unformed fragment, a plot that could not be imagined by his imagination that month did not give a man peace. But today everything had to be decided.

Hundreds of painted sketches lay under the slot sheets rolled into balls, or torn to pieces. Today, everything will not be as usual. An ideal image of a woman is created in his head, or, as he called this work, the Ideal of Beauty. After another sip, the man set the mug aside, stood up and walked over to the unfinished statue. With a heavy sigh, he sat down, took a chisel with a hammer and began to carefully knock down the corners of the stone.

On the street, the sun seemed to move from one edge of the window to another, and the sculptor kept circling around his creation, beating off extra pieces of stone here and there, sweeping away the unnecessary to the side. Under the wall has already accumulated a hill of white dust. Heavy drops of sweat flowed from his forehead, he erased them with the back of his hand, but sometimes he didn’t have enough time and his eyes became sore, they had to walk and wash.

After hitting the chisel with a hammer several times, the man let them go and the tools fell to the floor with a crash, and he fell back, with a heavy sigh, lay on his back. In the evening, dim light, he looked at his creation. Now it was a completely naked girl with socks standing on the stove. More needed to refine the roughness, but even now the sculptor looked with delight at his work, this sculpture felt something unusual that was not in his past works.

Rising, the man walked up to the table and found a half-empty cup of coffee. Naturally, he - the coffee - was already cold, the better. Cool drink spilled on his body. The sculptor left the room and went to the bathroom, throwing off all his clothes, he climbed into the shower. Cold streams flowed over his skin, gradually filling with warmth, and he just stood there, as if one of the statues, one of his works.

He felt how not only his body cools, but also his head. From time to time she ached, in the first times it was not too much, although it felt much stronger. He connected this with creativity. Now everything in my head has become unusually easy. He dried himself with a towel and got out of the bathroom. Continuing to wipe the protruding drops, the sculptor entered the room, sat down on the usual chair at the table.

The sun was about to set behind the horizon, but the light of its rays was still enough to make out the outline of a woman from marble. The sculptor did not look away from her, as if enchanted. Previously, he could look, critically evaluating the work done, but now he did not look for flaws. He admired his Ideal of Beauty. But the sun was fading. And as darkness was added to the room, the man also fell asleep. He bent his head on the table, already unconsciously putting his hands under it and quietly puffed.

Then in the room there was a quiet crunch. A light crack appeared on the statue. The sculptor raised his head and looked blankly at his work. The crunch was repeated and more cracks started from the formed one. The man got up from his chair, ignoring the nudity and what was already cool, he went to the marble woman. Cracks crawled over it with a crunch. One piece of marble fell from the chest and under it sculptures made out ... human skin!

With a particularly loud crunch, the entire stone shell with a drum sound fell to the floor. Before the artist was a lively woman ... naked.Exactly the way he created it - with his hands pressed between the breasts, raised on the toes. Only, freed from the shackles, she stood on full foot and lowered her hands. She looked at him with a loving glance, and he looked back in disbelief and shocked.

“You are ... alive ...” he said in a whisper.

The woman nodded with a slight smile. The man gently raised his hand and touched her face, ran it along the warm, soft cheek, went down the neck, stroked an elastic soft chest and, feeling a hard nipple, lowered his palm.

“You're alive ...” he said incredulously again. - Incredible ...

He could not even dream that his Ideal of Beauty would come to life. Now this perfect woman was standing in front of him, she could move and probably talk. He took her by the shoulders and brought her so close to him that there was no distance between them. His mind was dizzy. He really wanted to do something and was very afraid to do it.

The sculptor kissed her. Their hot lips merged. Somewhere inside a woman gave a marble chill, but, feeling the boiling heat, it was soon to disappear. The man crushed her elastic buttocks and thighs, raised his hands and squeezed her breasts, then went down on them with his lips and began to lick, pulling her nipples in, then he sank even lower, on a slender tummy to shaved groin.

The woman put one foot on his shoulder, and with her hand she reached the wall to maintain balance. The sculptor drove his tongue over her clitoris, listening to the sweet moan, with his hands he stroked her legs and continued to squeeze her ass. He took her leg off his shoulder, took his thin fingers and gently pulled to him. She lay down on the floor, and the man hung from above, continuing to stroke and kiss her body. Conscious body to them.

He spread her legs and settled between them. Moistening the head of the penis with saliva, he attached it to the pussy lips and began to slowly push them apart. He reached the stop and continued smooth movements back and forth. It was a little painful and for some reason it hurt him, but he could not now ask such questions, especially since it passed quickly. The sculptor looked in what bliss the face of his creation blurred, and from this he felt much more beautiful than she.

A woman wrapped her arms around his neck. She moaned louder and louder, which made the man move faster, the very moment came, the very one when she started her orgasm aria, and he began to hoarsely, twitching, spitting out of himself the seed. All wet, he fell on her and kissed her, stroking her face with the back of her hand. It was not just that he had suffered for several months over her, that his head was not just so sore and he did not sleep at night. He created his Ideal of Beauty and now they are together. They are together...

* * *

That night, the police received a call about noise. The dress left at the signal and angry neighbors led them to the door to the apartment of the sculptor, a rather peculiar person. No one came out to knock on the door, but the noise in the apartment continued, so I had to call the Emergency Ministry. What they saw entered forever in their memory.

A naked man was lying on a statue of a woman of marble and had sexual intercourse with her. In many places, his body was rubbed, as well as cut into sharp corners. When he was removed from the statue, they saw a worn penis to the blood, but the sculptor apparently did not feel pain. A hole was made between the legs of the statue, which was filled with blood and sperm.

Apparently, this was not the first sexual intercourse that a man committed with a statue. He was exhausted and could hardly resist when he was taken. He just cried and said that he was separated from his ideal of beauty. It is not known what the sculptor was in when he performed his actions, but when he came to the hospital in the hospital, he realized what had happened and died of a painful shock. His last words were: "The Ideal of Beauty."