Dobrila's Heart Ch. 01

Chapter One -- Of Friendship and young lust

Having just had a particularly satisfying orgasm, I couldn't help but smile as I lay on my back in the nearly complete darkness of my bedroom. I lay with my hands behind my head until my breathing returned to normal and then rolled onto my side toward Dolly, the "woman" that had just given me so much pleasure.

In the sex toy market, Dolly was better known as "The Girl Next Door Love Doll". She was of the inflatable variety, constructed of sturdy PVC plastic and styled with semi-realistic breasts, a vagina, an anus, and a mouth. And believe me when I tell you, I had made pleasurable use of each one of those available orifices many times over in the few weeks she had been in my possession.

Dolly was in all honesty a quantum leap in pleasure for me when it came to realizing the physical fantasy of being with a woman. And, even though I realized it was still only masturbation, it was most definitely a monumental paradigm shift from using my hand and ejaculating into a handful of tissues.

I had named her Dolly and thought that a rather appropriate moniker. (Ha-ha, right?) And, despite her being an inflatable plastic replica of a woman, I chose not to think of her as an inanimate object, preferring instead to imagine her as a real woman. I never referred to her as an 'it', to me it was always "she' or 'her'.

Now, if you are reading this, I know what you're probably wondering, "How old is this fuck-nut loser, twelve?". And truth be told, to a certain extent, I suppose I am more than a little stunted emotionally. It's a rather shameful thing to admit, and it grieves me to say it, but I'm a twenty-two-year-old virgin. (Please, hold your applause)

In my own defense, let me state for the record that for all my life it has seemed as though the Gods of love, sex, and relationships had completely abandoned me. Having been born prematurely, I have always been small in stature and the smallest student in all of my classes at school from kindergarten through my senior year in high school. Consequently, it seems little wonder that all the girls I was ever exposed to socially seemed to always look right through me as if I didn't exist. Those girls all seemed primarily attracted to the taller athletic types which, given my diminutive stature, pretty much precluded me from most sporting events in general, as well as the entire female student body.

Consequently, at the ripe old age of twenty-two, I still only managed to stand a whopping five-foot-four and three-quarters inches in height. And believe me, I count every quarter of an inch.

Don't misunderstand me, I've had many friends who were girls, just never girlfriends of the romantic persuasion. So, consequently, over the years and without female companionship of any kind, I naturally gravitated toward fantasy and masturbation. And believe me, I have masturbated a lot, with Dolly being the current culmination of all my childhood masturbation fantasies rolled into one.

I must have dozed off because when I again opened my eyes, my bedroom was considerably brighter with the dawn creeping into the room around my closed curtains.

I became conscious of a soft rhythmic thumping sound and listened intently to discern what it might be. I smiled a moment later when I heard a woman's voice crying out and realized it was the couple in the apartment above me making love, the headboard of their bed moving to the rhythm of their movements and bumping lightly against our common wall.

Listening to them, I became instantly erect. I groaned with renewed lust as I mounted Dolly once again, thrusting into her plastic vagina to find her still copiously slick and slippery from my previous ejaculations. I thrust into her rapidly and came seconds later, the sound of my cock moving inside her made wet sloppy sounds as I reached orgasm and added to the pool of semen inside her.

As I lay quietly on top of her, my orgasm spent, the reality of my solitary existence once again descended upon me and filled me with depression. On one hand, it was so very nice to have Dolly in my life to accommodate my physical needs and desires in a somewhat realistic way, while on the other hand, I couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of humiliation and guilt for being such a pathetic loser to find sexual gratification with such a cheap, synthetic substitute for a real woman.

Swallowing my pride for probably the hundredth time, I got out of bed, carrying Dolly with me into the shower where I carefully cleaned each of her holes. And while she felt morally repugnant to me at that particular moment, I still carefully added lubrication to her vagina and her anus because I knew that before this day was over, that sense of self-loathing would fade away and lust for her would return.

For the rest of the morning, I busied myself with a breakfast of toast and coffee while watching the local news and weather, and then began to unpack some of the boxes still piled in my living room area that I had been neglecting ever since I had moved into the apartment several weeks previous.

"Yes!" I exclaimed aloud when I opened one of the boxes to discover my grandfather's old toolbox. I had been hoping I would happen upon it because I had a great need for some of the tools inside. Every one of the hot water faucets in the apartment was leaking badly and had been driving me crazy.

In my youth, my grandfather had, on several occasions, taken it upon himself to take me aside and reveal to me the ins and outs of faucet repair. Most of which were extremely simple if one had the tools, and I knew that inside his toolbox, I had everything necessary to make those repairs on the faucets in my apartment.

With toolbox in hand, I made short work of the faucets, it took less than half an hour to complete the repairs, and I smiled with pride at a job well done.

Later, knowing my refrigerator was very low on things to eat for dinner, I set out to do a bit of grocery shopping. As I approached my apartment door, I heard my neighbor, Dobrila, in the hallway beyond the door.

****************************************************************************************************

Now, before I continue with the events of that particular day, let me first tell you a little more about Dobrila.

I first met her a few weeks ago on the first day I moved into the apartment building. As I was carrying a box into my new apartment, she happened to be just stepping from hers. Physically, her apartment door was directly across the hall from mine and, as such, made it almost inevitable that we were likely to have more than a few occasions to interact.

"Hello, new neighbor, I am Dobrila," she had greeted with a broad smile as she extended her hand.

I returned her smile and shook her hand, "It's nice to meet you Dobrila," I responded with a smile of my own. "I'm Jimmy."

"Is wonderful to meet you too, new neighbor, Jimmy," she said. Her voice was heavily accented. To my ear, it sounded very much like it might be Eastern European. When she pronounced my name, it sounded like 'Gee-may'.

While we only spoke briefly that morning, I was immediately captivated by her wonderful smile. Even though we were both strangers meeting accidentally for the first time, her smile was unforced, warm, and genuine, a smile that went all the way up to her deep blue eyes. Her hair was dark brown and contrasted beautifully with her blue eyes, a physical combination I had always felt to be exceptionally appealing, as with Zooey Deschanel, or Megan Fox.

She was an older woman, and judging from the feathery lines around her eyes, I estimated her age to be in the neighborhood of mid-forties, and possibly around the same age as my mother.

She stood a few inches taller than me, although I did happen to notice she wore sandaled shoes with what appeared to be a two to three-inch wedge sole and heel. Physically, she was a large woman, with a heavy bosom, a thickened waistline, and very broad hips and thighs.

Although my first physical impression of her was that she was somewhat unappealing because of her plus-size figure, I was absolutely captivated by her bubbly, effervescent personality. Even though we just met and only spoke briefly on that occasion, I got the distinct impression that she and I would be able to get along very nicely.

That impression of possible friendship was further enhanced later that very same day. As I sat rather exhausted in my living room amid several boxes of things still to be unpacked, I was surprised by a knock at my door.

I opened the door to find Dobrila holding a large plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies.

"Is welcome gift for my new neighbor," She smiled, holding out the plate to me.

I was shocked beyond words. Who on earth does this kind of neighborly welcome wagon stuff in this day and age? Once I found my voice, I immediately invited her in and quickly made a pot of coffee.

For the next better part of two hours, we sat at my kitchen table drinking coffee and nibbling her cookies while getting to know one another better. She was very affable and, to my surprise and delight, was extremely easy to talk to. In all the time we spent together that afternoon, there was not even one awkward pause in our conversation, we laughed and carried on as if we had been friends and known each other for a very long time.

I learned she was indeed from Eastern Europe, Poland to be exact, and spoke a mélange of languages learned from her parents. Her father was Russian, and her mother was Polish. Her English was heavily accented, but I found it very pleasant to listen to. She would say things like, "is nice" instead of "it is nice", and the word 'is' came out as 'eez'.

She proudly volunteered her age to be forty-five, twenty-three years my senior and, just to add perspective, a year older than my mother. I thought it particularly noteworthy how well we seemed to get along despite such a difference in ages. She talked to me as if we were peers, without even the slightest hint of age condescension, and that pleased me very much.

She was an attractive woman with, as I mentioned earlier, dark brown hair and pretty blue eyes. Her hair was probably shoulder-length, but she seemed to favor keeping it pulled back from her face and rolled into a loose bun held with a clip at the back of her head. Physically speaking, she was indeed a rather large woman. She was not what I would call obese, but definitely heavy. And, since I tend to objectify every woman I see, I couldn't help but find her heavy corpulent figure to be more attractive than I originally thought, especially as it seemed to perfectly compliment her personality and sense of humor.

Did I objectify her beyond merely being descriptive? Well, of course, I did. As a twenty-two-year-old virgin with an inflatable love doll in his bedroom, I most certainly sexualized Dobrila. She was, perhaps, not my personal ideal representation of feminine pulchritude, Jennifer Lopez and Selena Gomez coming quickly to mind, but she WAS a woman. A very REAL woman. If you think for one second that I took no notice of how her heavy breasts swayed beneath her dress or the way her hips and buttocks moved as she walked, then you could not be more wrong. Don't misunderstand me, it wasn't so much a lustful leering, although that sentiment was certainly present to a certain extent, it was more of an appreciation of her femininity.

Once she returned to her apartment and I was left alone in mine, it struck me how much I had enjoyed her visit and our little chat over coffee and cookies. It made me realize how my solo existence was more than a little on the lonely side and wondered possibly if Dobrila might be lonely as well. I had no real friends, or even anyone I could hang out with, and found myself thinking it might be nice if Dobrila and I could somehow manage to maintain a real friendship.

*************************************************************************************

As I opened the door to my apartment that morning, I found Dobrila struggling with two bags of groceries and her purse while trying to unlock her door, I quickly stepped forward and took the two grocery bags from her.

"Oh, thank you, Jimmy," she said a little breathlessly, "Was stupid for me to carry everything at once, yes?"

She quickly unlocked the door and took one of the bags from me. "Come in, please," she offered with a smile, "I will make tea, yes?"

I followed her into her apartment, closing the door behind me, and set the bag of groceries on her kitchen counter beside the one she had placed there. I sat at her kitchen table while she filled her kettle with water and plugged it in before beginning to put her groceries away.

"Excuse me, please," she said a few moments later, giving me a bright smile, "I have to pee."

I nodded and smiled as she made her way down the hall to her bathroom. Somehow it seemed rather endearing to have her say she had to pee, instead of something like...I need to use the bathroom. Maybe I'm just naïve that way when it comes to women, I have no previous experience, but I liked that she could say it so informally the way she did.

I looked around her apartment from where I sat and, indeed, it was a mirror of my own, with the exception that Dobrila's apartment was opulently and luxuriously appointed compared to mine. Her living room and kitchen furniture were plush and inviting and looked rather expensive as well.

I glanced down and was startled to see a little black cat sitting beside my chair and looking up at me with big blue eyes.

"Well, hello there," I smiled, holding my hand down to let him sniff me before stroking his head. To my astonishment, he leaped up onto my lap and began to purr as I stroked him.

I heard a toilet flush and moments later Dobrila entered the kitchen.

"Hey, what's this little guy's name?" I asked as she entered.

Dobrila gasped and abruptly stopped with her eyes wide and her mouth agape. "Is female," she said, still looking somewhat astonished. "Her name is Malenka and...she does not like other people."

I laughed and continued to scratch around Malenka's ears as she settled more comfortably onto my lap.

"Is lovely thing to see, Jimmy," said Dobrila with a shake of her head, "And very surprising. She must know what a good person you are." She approached and bent over to also stroke Malenka affectionately. When she did, the bodice of her dress fell away from her chest, and I was suddenly treated to an astonishing view of her deep cleavage. It was only a brief glimpse, mind you, but it had a rather profound effect on me.

I had, of course, seen a great deal of cleavage in pictures and videos on the Internet, but until that particular moment in time, had never seen cleavage so up close and personal. I felt a distinct pull in my groin area as an erection was making a strong attempt to expand and I was glad that the cat was still in my lap.

After that brief fleeting glimpse of Dobrila's cleavage, I began to look at her a little more discerningly and with greater intimacy. She wore the same style of dress I had always seen her wear on previous occasions, a sleeveless shift style that zipped up the back with a hem that was modestly only an inch or two above her knees. It appeared to be made of some kind of thin polyester material that tended to form against her body in a somewhat revealing way around her chest and hips. I especially liked the way her buttocks flexed and moved as she walked and absolutely loved the way her heavy bosom swayed beneath the bodice of her dress. When sitting beside me at the table, her dress rose a little above her knees to give me another little measure of voyeuristic excitement.

Dobrila made us each a cup of tea and brought a plate of cookies to the table as well. She thanked me once again for my assistance with her groceries and we carried on a lively conversation that, very much like our first encounter in my apartment, was completely comfortable and without awkward pauses.

Dobrila, I came to discover, was by nature a rather gregarious person, always quick to smile and laugh and often reaching out in a personal way to touch my hand or my arm for emphasis while speaking or laughing. I found her touches to be very endearing, even intimate, and I felt myself wanting to touch her in the same manner.

I found a perfect opportunity to do so a few minutes later. While making some small humorous remark, I reached over to place my hand on her upper arm between her elbow and shoulder and that contact was startling. Her skin was so creamy and smooth to the touch it astonished me, I wished I could stroke her arm to savor the sensation but quickly, albeit reluctantly, removed my hand after the brief touch. I couldn't help but wonder if she would feel equally as smooth and soft everywhere else on her body.

I know I've alluded to it before, but a woman of Dobrila's generous proportions had never been uppermost in my list of fantasy women. But there was just something about her that I was discovering to be more and more appealing. Mostly, I suppose, it was because she was a real woman, and I was alone with her. Those facts alone were enough to open my imagination up to fantasy realms of possibility that were entirely new to me. She might not have the kind of svelte figure that social media mavens and Internet trolls would deem worthy of lustful appreciation, but her body was distinctly feminine and, as such, appealing to me in a way I had never considered before.

Her eyes seemed a brighter shade of blue that day and I realized that the blue colors in her dress were bringing out the blue in her eyes. I commented on how nice her dress looked and she beamed.

"Thank you, Jimmy. Is brand new, I just finished making it last night."

She stood and turned around slowly to allow me to see the dress better and, although she was encouraging me to look at her dress, it gave me the perfect excuse to shamelessly watch and appreciate the way her body moved beneath the dress. I, of course, complimented her and told her how very nice her dress looked.

She sat back down, obviously pleased by my compliment, and explained how she made all of her dresses by hand. She obviously was very accomplished at dressmaking, and I told her so, eliciting another bright smile and spots of color on her cheekbones.

She went on to explain how her matka (mother) had instilled a love of sewing and dressmaking into her at a young age and, while she was speaking, she stood and held out her hand to me.

"Come," she said with a smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement, "I show you."

Taking me by the hand, she led me down the hall to the smaller of the two bedrooms where she had a rather elaborate setup for her sewing projects. One entire wall was taken up by her sewing table with two expensive-looking sewing machines. Along another wall was a shelving unit with a plethora of different bolts of cloth and material and all manner of sewing accessories. In one corner stood a dressmaking mannequin on a metal stand with a work-in-progress dress draped upon it.

She smiled and stood beside the mannequin, posing with her hands on her hips. "See?" she said, "Is same as me."

Indeed, when viewed side by side, the mannequin's body shape and dimensions appeared to be almost exactly the same as Dobrila's. "Was made especially for me and very expensive," she explained, rolling her eyes at the word expense. "They make a plaster cast of my body and then fill it with silicone rubber. Is exactly like me, yes?" She smiled, posing once more beside the mannequin. "Is much better for me to make the size perfect."

I nodded, it certainly made perfect sense to me to have a torso made to her body's exact dimensions. At that moment, I couldn't help but think of Dolly and how interesting it might be if she were to have the same physical dimensions as Dobrila.