almost okay

A month went by. The silicone rubber had arrived within three days of my opening the crates, but I hadn't even touched the stuff. The box was still sitting on the kitchen table. In the sink and along the counter were piled three weeks' worth of dirty dishes, stacks of mail, empty cereal boxes, beer cans and water bottles.

For thirty days I'd done little else but take turns plugging Jessica and Beyonce from behind. I'm a lazy cuss by nature and I figured as long as I was happy with the status quo, why bother with the faces? Every time I sat down and took a close look at the holes in their heads, thought about what I'd have to do to actually bring the faces to life - the sculpting, the molding, the finish painting... well, I just got overwhelmed.

So I did nothing.

Except buy more K-Y, of course. They were starting to look at me funny at the CVS, so I went across the street to Rite Aid and bought a case of their generic. I figured once that was gone, I could go across the other street to Walgreen's and get another case. By the time that was gone, I could go back to CVS, where they would have stopped wondering what the fuck I was doing with all of the lube in the first place.

Beyonce was my favorite. Even though the vagina holes were exactly the same, her ass was a little thicker than Jessica's and I liked smacking it while I humped away. One day, while I was banging away on Beyonce I happened to look across the bed and see my reflection in the mirrored closet doors, see the sweat pouring off me, see poor Beyonce's blank face and that ugly mouth hole. Immediately I went soft.

I pushed Beyonce aside, tried to rid my mind of the image of her face, then pulled Jessica out of the closet. I propped her up with a pillow under her stomach, pulled up her dress, massaged her rubber ass cheeks as I softly cooed her name. “Jessica, baby...” But nothing happened. For the first time in a month of six to eight sessions a day, I couldn't get it up.

I guess I finally was tired of doggy style. I decided right then and there that I wanted the whole package, and since Beyonce's ass felt so good, I was going to start with her, make a whole woman of her. I was ready for some missionary, maybe a little oral.

And for that, my friends, I'd need some lips.

Fueled by coffee and lust, I worked nonstop for three days, gathering reference material before diving in with the modeling clay. I had clay under my fingernails, in my ears and up my nose by the time I had a reasonable facsimile of Beyonce's face finished. It was about time I put my education to use, I thought. Before that moment I'd always figured that the clay modeling course I took as a freshman in Junior College to fulfill a humanities requirement was a complete waste of time.

After making the mold, I read the instructions on how to mix the silicone. It seemed easy... Equal parts of 'A' and 'B', then a spoonful of activator. No problem.

My hands trembled with anticipation as I poured the liquid into the top of the mold and waited for it to set up. The waiting wasn't easy. While Beyonce's face was hardening, I pulled both dolls out and gave them a good cleaning, soaped them up nice and wet, carefully washed the skin with a cloth, cleaned out the vaginas.

As my fingers moved in and out of Jessica's opening, I realized I was getting aroused. I hadn't had any of the good stuff in nearly a week and now here I was hard as a hammer with another hour to wait before Beyonce's face would be set up.

I went over to the mirrored closet doors, lifted them from their tracks and lugged them out to the trash, then rushed back inside, threw Jessica across the bed and mounted her from behind, the soap still slick in her screw hole. I fucked her like I'd just got out of prison, hard and fast and rough.

She didn't complain.

I looked at the clock on the nightstand. There were still fifty-five more minutes before the silicone would be set up, so I picked up Beyonce, stacked her on top of Jessica, spread her legs open and dug in again.

Even though I'd just rung the bell with Jessica, I was stiff again within seconds. I slapped Beyonce's ass as I thrust away, and with the sight of my sweat dripping onto her rump, wetting those gorgeous cheeks and streaming down to puddles on the mattress, I exploded in no time.

I stood up, caught my breath and looked at the clock. I still had fifty-two minutes to kill.




Next time: So that's why they call it 'head'!