I asked Lesley to draw a bath for me. She smiled sweetly and headed to the bathroom while I undressed and followed. She did not touch the taps as she knew what kind of bath I wanted. She removed her clothes and stood by the bath waiting for me.
I sat on the broad corner of the bath, turned her to face me and said clearly and distinctly, “Rimsky Korsakov.”
This time I was prepared for, but still slightly alarmed by, the sight of a huge cock and balls sprouting quickly from between her legs. I placed my hands on her soft ass and began licking up and down the length of the shaft. Purple veins stood out on the opaque skin, especially around the helmet. She moaned and her dick twitched, hardened, and became erect very quickly. I took the pink head in my mouth and she felt so hot inside me. I did not have to suck for long before jets of hot, sticky cum boiled up from her balls but, as I was ready, I took her cock from my mouth and jerked her off, aiming carefully so that her spunk fired over my shoulder and splashed in the bath behind me. Her ejaculation was so powerful that some of it splatted against the bathroom tiles. I started to suck her hard again, tasting the lovely, sugary fluid. She did not soften and was soon cumming again, groaning with ecstasy. Once more I aimed her love gun at the bath and the spunk gathered in a gooey pool at the bottom. The third time I found that I hardly needed to suck her before she orgasmed again, but I still sucked, missing no opportunity to get myself high on her love juice.
She came again and again in quick, powerful bursts of moaning and spurting while my hand never stopped slithering up and down her cum coated cock. The spunk was covering me as well, landing in my hair, dribbling down my face and oozing over my breasts. I laughed with joy and amazement at Lesley’s incredible stamina and potency.
Soon the bath was brimming with Lesley’s semen and a faint mist rose above it. It smelled heavenly, like hot rum. I could wait no longer after such hard labour and I tested the semen with my elbow. It was not too hot, not too cold, but just right. I sank into the spunk bath and allowed the white goo to cover and then invade every inch of my trembling body. I was drunk from drinking so much of it and my head slipped under so that, when I heard a voice, it sounded far, far away and it took me an age to realise what had happened.
“Irma, there’s someone at the door!”
I had fallen asleep in Alice’s arms and now she was shaking me awake. Realising who it might be at the door I jumped up, slipped on a billowy white dress and ran downstairs.
I opened to see Lesley smiling broadly. Jim stood there too, looking uncharacteristically peeved. This was unsurprising, however, as his hair was slicked with a thick brown substance of dubious origin. Lesley was free of whatever this substance was and looked stunning in an outfit of pink, white spotted culottes and halter, a bouquet of blood red roses clutched with one hand beneath her ample bosom and the other hand hooked into Jim’s arm. She looked so radiant in the morning sun that my mouth began to water. Looking closer I noticed that her clothes were just slightly spotted by the brown stuff. Jim’s filthy hair was dripping onto his hitherto immaculate silk shirt.
I covered my smile with my hand and inquired, stuttering and frowning falsely, what had happened. He looked like he had been to a mud bath.
“A minor inconvenience at the showroom, Miss, with the same ladies you had the pleasure of meeting there yesterday.”
“I see,” I said and cleared my throat loudly. They must have moved on from throwing rice, I surmised.
Jim took Lesley’s porcelain hand and offered it to me. “Anyway,” he said, straining to smile, “here’s your product as requested, all fine tuned and ready for
service, and,” he handed me a cheap looking pilot case, “inside here’s a complimentary month’s supply of sustenance for the product and the charger.”
“She’ll be servicing me,” I said , surprised at my own cheekiness, while taking Lesley’s hand and the case.
“Ha ha, yes,” said Jim humourlessly and asked me to sign for the delivery. I could hardly wait to wave goodbye to Shithead and usher Lesley into her new home.
Inside Lesley handed me the bouquet and kissed me lightly on the cheek. Thoroughly charmed I told her to make herself at home, placed the roses in a vase on the dining table, quickly filed away the paperwork in the kitchen drawers and opened the case. I wanted to get my hands on her immediately, but postponed the pleasure, drawing out the anticipation of so much ecstasy, while preparing her a drink.
The case contained small sachets of a powder highly ‘unsuitable for human consumption’ as the packet said, ‘and only to be administered to artificial persons once a day’. The printed directions were to empty the sachet into a large pitcher and add water. I did so and the result was surprising. After much bubbling and frothing I was left with more white liquid than the glass pitcher could contain and it leaked onto the kitchen tiles.
“Irma!” shouted Alice from upstairs, “who was it?”
“Just, um,” I shouted back.
“Er, just the milkman!” I cursed and decided to give the pitcher to Lesley as it was, not knowing how else to serve such a massive drink.
“Puff up you, Irma,” said Lesley graciously, accepting the pitcher.
I smacked my forehead, realising that the company had failed to ‘fine tune’ Lesley’s speech as I had asked.
Never mind! I thought, and stroked her shoulder as she guzzled the drink quickly without pausing for breath.
She handed the pitcher back to me with a child like smile, burped and wiped the goo from her chin. I could not help laughing and took this opportunity to kiss her deeply. The drink tasted revolting and I retched, thinking I was about to vomit. I ran to the kitchen and washed out my mouth, desperately trying to rid myself of the horrible taste.
How strange, I thought looking at her as she sat there looking concerned. Her body can transform such a disgusting liquid into ambrosial spunk!
I decided to make myself a strong drink to take away the taste. When I returned to the dining room I found that she had moved to the living room and had struck a dramatic pose in the centre of the floor, with a rose between her perfectly white teeth. Stunned, I looked her up and down, wondering what hidden surprises this toy had in store for me. With her high heeled white shoes she began hammering on the floorboards and clapping her hands. Having recently learned flamenco dancing I laughed, matched her pose and began dancing around her.
“Irma!” shouted Alice from the bedroom. “What the fuck are you doing now, you crazy cracker?”
“Chasing a tarantula!” I shouted back and swished my skirt against Lesley who then took me in her strong arms, held one of my hands and let me sway with my head near the floor, holding me firmly, then pulling me up swiftly to begin a slow, close, sensual dance, our eyes locked, our nipples poking and grazing each other through our clothes.
As we danced about the room, we kissed. I gently prized the rose from her mouth and spat it out on the floor so that we could kiss properly. Then she spun me around at arm’s length, pulled me back, lifted me high so that I squealed like a little girl and let my relaxed body fall before catching me at the last moment with my head an inch from the floor. We paused for a moment gazing at each other, when suddenly a movement caught my eye on the floor nearby.
A dark, hairy object had appeared from under the old sofa and was scuttling across the floorboards to a crack in the skirting board. I squealed again, this time in fright, and leapt back into Lesley’s arms.
“Irma! What the fuck!” screamed Alice.
I looked at Lesley, laughed at my silliness and allowed her to put me down. I laughed again, sighed, made sure the spider had gone and went back to the kitchen to finish my strong drink. I was going to need it because now, I realised, I really did have some explaining to do. I had put this off for far too long and poor Alice could not be kept in the dark any longer. I took Lesley’s hand and led her upstairs.
Alice was sitting bolt upright, still in yesterday’s underwear and waiting for me to help her dress. I left Lesley on the shadowy landing outside. Alice looked up at me interrogatively, but I decided to dress her first and try to prepare her for the shock.
“It’s a nice day, Alice,” I tried to say brightly, but she could always quickly discern any false note in my voice.
“Of course it’s a nice day,” she said irritably. “It’s always a nice day here, when it’s not blowing a fucking hurricane. Tell me when it’s cold and grey and pissing down. That’ll be something worth mentioning!”
“Tut, tut, don’t be so grouchy,” I scolded gently.
She harrumphed. “You’re up to something, Irma. What was all the noise about? Don’t tell me you’re so desperate for a dancing partner now you’ve started doing the tango with a spider.”
“You know I like to practice my flamenco in the morning.” It was quite strenuous work lifting Alice’s weak body, especially as she was clearly in no mood to co operate, but I soon had her in clean underwear and a short, violet dress.
Alice looked down and observed, “You’re not wearing any shoes,” but then a movement at the door caught her attention. “Who’s that?”
I could delay things no longer and so brought Lesley into the bedroom. “Alice,” I said, trying to sound assertive, “this is Lesley. She’s our new milkman.”
Alice looked blank.
“Our new milk,” I floundered, “milkperson.”
Lesley sashayed to the bed, offered her hand to shake and said, “I’m vigorously satisfied to twiddle you.”
“Are you now?” said Alice archly, shaking the delicate looking hand.
I groaned inwardly and, by way of explanation, said, “Lesley’s from England.”
Alice studied her intently. “Well, ain’t that something. Say, do all limeys talk like that these days?” She gave me an innocent, questioning look, but began to look irritated when she found that she was unable to disengage her hand from Lesley’s.
Lesley was shaking Alice’s arm vigorously up and down causing my friend mounting distress. Lesley smiled her broad smile and seemed oblivious to the fact that Alice was desperately struggling to free herself.
“Give me my hand back!” shouted Alice.
Suddenly Lesley finally left go of Alice’s hand but, in addition, Lesley’s skin had quickly turned several shades darker. Alarmingly, black and blonde streaks of hair shot out from her scalp to cover the red locks. Alice gasped in shock. Seeing them together I realised the two of them could be sisters.
Interesting, I thought, and shrugged my shoulders, realising that it was clearly too late to start worrying about keeping Lesley’s true nature a secret, or complaining to the company for not ‘fine tuning’ her as finely as I had hoped. The situation was now all too clear to Alice’s sharp mind.
“You got to be shitting me, Irma!” she growled looking daggers at me. “What have you gone and done with all that money?” She looked as if she was about to struggle out of bed and, despite my friend’s frailty, I clutched Lesley to me protectively.
“It was my money, Alice,” I tried to reason. “I didn’t promise you anything.”
“You bitch!” she whispered menacingly. “You said we could buy a nice bungalow away from that stinking, rotten market. I thought you hated living in this tarantula infested shack.” Fumbling with her two walking sticks beside the bed, she struggled to stand up and I gently pushed her back down, but her anger had made her unsually vigorous. “Don’t push me, girl!” she bellowed and poked me with a stick.
Realising that Alice was probably best left alone at the moment, at least that was the best excuse I could make to myself, I took Lesley back down and out of the house through the kitchen door at the back. Outside in the weed clogged garden I looked up at the bedroom window to see Alice glaring at us.
“Come back, Irma! I haven’t finished with you, no siree!”
“I’m sorry, Alice, sweetheart,” I called up. “I couldn’t help myself. You know what I’m like once I set my heart on something.”
I waved and ushered Lesley towards my car which sat beneath some overhanging trees. Beyond that lay the beach. I heard a loud bang just near my feet and saw that one of the inflatable sheep had burst and in its place was one of Alice’s netsuke figures, this one of a cat. I looked back at the house to see her weighing another figure in her hand.
As Lesley and I stepped into the car I heard Alice shout at the top of her lungs, “Come back here, Irma, you crazy cracker!”
Out on the road I wondered what I could do to kill some time before Alice calmed down. It could take a while, I thought. Then I glanced at Lesley’s pink outfit and realised that, pretty though the clothes were, she really needed some more, in fact, a whole new wardrobe. Besides, this outfit was only a loan. I couldn’t have her going naked. Well, not all the time. Happily resolved to spend the day shopping with Lesley, I drove us to the city centre, exchanging smiles with her all the way, with only the thought of Alice hurting herself while I was gone to temper my joy.
There was a heavy build up of traffic near the centre and Lesley noticed, her eyes clearly sharper than mine, a plume of black smoke billowing up from a building. It was the company’s showroom where I had bought Lesley! As we sat stuck in a jam, a cop was going from car to car, explaining to drivers that another route would be preferable. When he came to my car I asked him what had happened. He explained that the organisation HOR had set fire to the showroom. After executing a u turn I realised how lucky I had been to purchase Lesley when I had. I eventually parked the car not too far from the shops. Lesley and I held hands as we walked. I still had no shoes on, but that was not unusual as I find it more comfortable to go barefoot. My body tingled with the pleasure of her touch and my heart melted every time we looked at each other. We had still not fucked since her delivery and I felt amazed at my own self control. If no one had been looking I would have fucked her right there in the car park. As it was, Lesley was drawing many stares from people, not just men, whose eyes seemed hopelessly moored to her chest.
Shopping for clothes turned out to be a little less straightforward than I had anticipated due to Lesley’s exceptional bust. Panties and bikini bottoms were easily found, but bras and bikini tops had to be purchased from specialist shops for larger people. I selected various short dresses for her, as she seemed to have no preference. I had no shame in choosing the lightest and most revealing ones for her. Watching her casually strutting backwards and forwards in different frocks made me quite wet. It was only the crowds of people in the shops that kept me from stealing into the changing rooms with her and giving her a good seeing to in between outfits. It occurred to me that another completely different wardrobe would have to be chosen sometime for her male configuration.
Another day, another pleasure, I promised myself and grinned broadly while a shop assistant looked at me over his half moon spectacles.
I was grateful that, throughout all of this, Lesley did not embarrass me by speaking to anyone but me. I really ought to give that Jim Priest a good talking to, I thought, then wondered casually if he had gone up in flames with his showroom.
The hours flew by and I was so tired after making all of my purchases that I had Lesley carry every bag and box to the car. Whenever I caught a glimpse of her face over the piles of clothes, the broad smile was still there.
On the drive home I wondered if I had given Alice enough time to collect herself. I decided to give her a little longer, so when we arrived at the house I suggested a swim to Lesley in her new mismatching bikini. With me just in my knickers we ran to the sea’s edge, then dived into the waves.
The evening sun blazed on the horizon while we sported together, laughed, splashed water at each other and dove for each other’s ankles. She caught me easily, pulled me to her throbbing breasts and kissed me passionately while treading water strongly enough for the both of us. Flirtatiously I struggled from her grasp and swam back to the beach to lie on the sand. Somehow, in the playful fight, my knickers had vanished. When I opened my eyes there she was standing above me, her beautiful face peering over her huge mounds. I wriggled on the sand and spread my legs on either side of her feet. She was making me wait and I reached up to beckon her with groping fingers.
She fell on me like a tidal wave and the pleasure rolled over me again and again like a continuous series of breakers. Her tongue snaked from between her pink lips and licked my salty flesh all over while her hands tweaked my hard nipples and fondled my boobs. Rolling me over, her tongue eased into my ass and explored my depths while her finger penetrated my hot cunt. I was momentarily shocked as her finger swelled in length and girth and began pumping me like a penis until I was screaming into the warm evening air with love and passion at the incredible things she could do to me. My wet legs snaked around each other as I tightened on her finger while my ass repeatedly pushed into the air, forcing her tongue deeper inside me. The waves washed over us, once submerging us completely for a few moments. I swallowed some water, but hardly cared. As the wave hissed and roared back I gasped and floundered, as weak as a fish struggling for air. Lesley’s thrusts and licks never faltered. I cried and cried and my heart swelled with a love so great I did not care if it would burst. After my orgasms finally subsided she massaged me firmly and expertly, following each stroke with a butterfly kiss to my thrilling skin.
I rolled over and saw that some people were still on the beach in the distance, looking at us and ushering their children back up to the grassy dunes away from us.
Shit, I thought half heartedly and let Lesley pull me up.
We made for the car where we had left our clothes. The swollen sun was squatting fatly on the horizon, but a cool breeze was blowing in which dried my skin. In the shade of the trees we were hidden from the view of the people who had seen us and, looking at Lesley once more in her bikini, I could not stop myself from wanting more.
I went to embrace her again, but then she said, “You’re ipso facto pulchritudinous, Irma.”
So surprised was I by this sudden compliment that I stopped, smiled and twirled en pointes before her, my hands behind my head to lift my boobs and show them off to her at their best. I stretched my limbs and shook my ass for her. It was such a nice thing for her to say, even though she had probably been programmed to say it. It seemed so natural and genuine that I felt really touched, and I gave her a soft, loving kiss to which she gladly responded. Then suddenly I was grabbed from behind by a strong, rough hand, spun around and flung to the ground.
“Get dressed!” commanded a man’s voice and I felt my dress land on my back. “You’re under arrest!” declared the same voice. “You too!”
I rolled over to see two cops attempting to push Lesley forwards. Completely indifferent to their commands and pushes, Lesley stood her ground casually gazing with love at me. The third cop who had pushed me kicked me in the ribs and I doubled up in pain. He pulled me up and I was forced to dress while he held me up. When I had slipped the dress on I gathered my breath, only to be handcuffed and then pushed from the garden, around the house to the van waiting at the front.
“What the hell is this!” I yelled, fighting against the cuffs. “What’s the fucking charge?”
“Homosexuality!” growled the cop who was pushing me, “as if you didn’t know.”
I found myself laughing at their stupidity. “But she’s not a woman, you idiot! Ow!” My head banged against the door of the van before I was thrust inside so hard I slipped over on the hard metal floor. “She’s not even human! How dare you treat us like this!” I spat indignantly.
Lesley was also brought to the van, but only once all three men had pushed and cajoled her with their batons all the way. She stepped inside insouciantly and sat down next to me. Her soft body offered me some comfort from the bruising I’d received.
“Shameless sluts!” one of them spat back and slammed the door.
I heard another one through the door add, “That one sounds like a junkie too.”
During the short drive to the police station I rested my head on Lesley’s breasts and sobbed quietly in self pity. On arrival I was separated from her, which caused me more pain that the blows from the baton I had been given, dragged and pushed protesting all the way to a cell, while Lesley was quietly shown to hers having realised that the cops’ primary function was to shove and that cooperation saved energy. Mine was a single occupancy cell, for which I was faintly grateful, so I stretched out on the bed, my body aching, not just from the battering the cops had given me, but from the absence of Lesley and her sweet caresses.
A little later I was allowed to phone Alice. She sounded so distraught I cursed myself for being so irresponsible to leave her alone. I simultaneously cried and laughed at my stupidity. Alice assured me that she would bail me out as soon as she could, but made no mention of Lesley or how a bed ridden woman could come to the station.
We exchanged I love yous and I fell asleep, exhausted from the day’s tumultuous events.
Copyright © Irma Cerrutti 2010