Identity Theft

"Damn, Bob, that's not just freakin' bizarre, it's the fucking damndest thing I ever saw." Hank stared at the two figures sitting stiffly on the sofa. "I know you been goin' gonzo since Joyce decided to split on ya, but this..."

He leaned over and rubbed his hand down the cheek of the blonde one. "Damned if that don't just feel spooky. Where'd ya say you got 'em from? My cousin told me about that site on the web where you could get one of those fancy two-thousand dollar ones, the one's made out of the realistic stuff..."

"Believe me, they cost plenty more than a two grand each," Bob smiled. "My uncle near N'awlins made 'em for me."

Hank bent down to get a closer look. "Hell, this one's even got Darla's green eyes." He turned back to Bob, expectantly. "Can I touch their titties?"

Bob chuckled. "Sure, it's not like they're gonna complain." He grinned as his best friend leaned down further and slowly ran his fingers across the top of one of "Darla's" boobs. "Damn, Hank, it's not like she's gonna bite," he laughed.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Hank's face paled a bit. "It's just that it seems so...you know..."

"Realistic?"

Hank squeezed one of her nipples between his finger and thumb. "Well, yeah, that too." He sat down on the couch beside the feminine forms on the couch. "But mainly, like I said before, it just feels kinda spooky, what with how I known 'em both for goin' on twenty years now." He poked a finger into the bouncy firmness around her aureole.

"Geez, Hank, don't be a wimp!" Bob grinned and plopped down on the other side of the couch. He reached over to "Joyce" and slapped at one of her boobies, causing it to flop back and forth a few times. "They don't complain, hell, they don't even show the bruises!"

Hank bit his lower lip and hesitated a moment. "Do they...taste real?"

"Hell, go ahead and try 'em," Bob laughed and got up. "I'll go out back to the truck and get the beer."

The tall Texan adjusted himself nervously on the couch as one eye watched his friend leave the room. His other eye was glued right between "Darla's" slightly open legs. "Damn shame," he whispered beneath his breath as he thought back to growing up with her. "Heck, you practically screwed every guy on the football team in high school." Now she done decided she was a lesbo all along and ran off with her best friend to live in San Francisco with the rest of the fairies. "Good thing Bob seems to be taking it so well, 'cause I done expected both of ya to end up in shallow graves somewhere."

He found his lips five inches from hers before he realized he was actually talking to her. "Damn, you look so fucking real." He glanced once more towards the back door to make sure Bob wasn't looking through the window, then he ran his fingers down between her thighs...

Seeing how he'd only touched two women down there before, Bob wasn't an expert, but "Damned, if that don't feel real," he whispered, then took one last peek at the back window before pressing his lips hard against hers. After a moment, he drew back and brought a hand to his face. "Fucking pathetic, Hank Horton, that's what you are." He practically spat out the words. Then he settled back on the sofa to wait for Bob to get back with the beer.

A few minutes later, Bob shuffled through the screen door with an ice chest full of Lone Star. He sat it down on the kitchen table, grabbed out a few and walked over to the sofa. "Damn, Hank, you've had a hard on for Darla since the seventh grade, I figured you'd be all over her by now." As he handed Hank the beer, he noticed his buddy's face was getting pretty red. "Oh, geez, c'mon, Hank, don't be such a pussy!"

"You know I ain't no pussy, Bob," he took a swig, "it's just that it don't feel right."

"C'mon now, you tell me you don't have a boner right now?" Hank sat down on the far side of the sofa again. "Just look at her, Hank, she's practically beggin' for you," he laughed. "Her little lips are apart and I bet if you stick a finger down in her she'll even get wet."

"Oh, geez," Hank took another swig, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Ah, damn, you ARE a fucking pussy!" Bob let out a long and hearty laugh, then he knelt down in front of "Joyce," grabbed a leg in each hand and spread them, placing each foot on the edge of the inn table in front of the sofa. "Hell, look at the way these legs just stay exactly where they need to be to give 'em a good fucking!" Hank closed one eye and looked nervously at his friend as Bob took the open end of his half-empty beer bottle and placed it near "Joyce's" bushy pussy hole.

"Damn, Bob, that's just gross," he said, but Bob noticed he didn't turn away as he shoved the bottle up and in.

"No, she really loves a good longneck, don't you, honey?" Bob chuckled as he reached his free hand up, grabbed a handful of hair and smiled as she nodded in agreement. "See, she loves it!" After pushing the bottle in and out a few times, he brought it up to his lips and took another swig. "Ahh, pussy and beer, it don't get any better'n this!"

Hank started to get up, then paused as his eyes were once again drawn between "Darla's" legs. Bob set his bottle down on the table and reached over to grab one of Hank's arms. "I'm serious, it even TASTES like pussy down there!"

"That's...that don't seem likely," Hank tried halfheartedly to pull away, but his eyes stayed glued to "Darla's" bush.

Bob let go of his arm and reached for his beer again. "Not that YOU'D know anything about how pussy tastes."

The taller man started to say something, then settled for taking another swig. "Hey, I stuck a finger down there while you were outside," he mumbled, finally. "But it just felt too..."

"Pussy," Bob taunted again. "I bet you even fucking KISSED her too."

"It felt TOO real, okay," Hank shouted back and reached for his hat on the way out. "It felt like she was looking at me."

"Hell, man, that's the best fucking part, isn't it honey?" he laughed as he smacked "Joyce" hard across the cheek.

Hank stopped in the doorway. "Damn, I think you really need to have a talk with the preacher or someone."

Bob emptied his bottle, then turned to his friend with fire in his eyes. "No, I take that back, Hank. The best part is that when you screw 'em in the ass with no lube, these itty bitty teardrops run right down their cute little cheeks.

"And she'll be here whenever you want her!"

Bob laughed as the lanky man ducked under the door frame. The screen door slammed behind him, but it wasn't NEARLY loud enough.

"And, believe me, you'll want her!"