Living Dolls: The Director's Cut

"Huh?" I said on one of my thrusts.

"Reach around her and diddle her clit," Karen said again. "To make this position as good for her as it is for you."

"How – come – you – never – told – me – this – when – we – were – doing – it?" I asked in tempo.

"Well, you hope boys will learn things on their own," Karen giggled. "They never do, but hope springs eternal. I know you like it this way. So I like to do it this way for you. But a little remedial education never hurt."

Apparently not. Julie had gone from a reluctant partner to an active participant. Not that she could do much in her position, of course. But from the way she kept striking her hand on the bed and whimpering my name over and over again, I figured I'd learned something pretty good. I finally turned her over on her back, where she instantly wrapped her legs around me and pulled me back towards her. I held back at the entrance, looking down at the way the perspiration had matted the roots of her hair, smiling at a picture that was both erotically wild and incredibly soft.

"God, Jason," she whispered, "you're going to kill me with that thing."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I'm going to kill you if you don't," she said, sending Karen into hysterical laughter next to us.

"All right," I said, "but you asked for it, Julie."

"I'll beg for it if you want me to." She smiled back at me.

There was no need for that.

______________________

"It's all set," Karen announced a day later as we did the dinner dishes.

"What?" I asked.

"My date on Friday with Richie Rich. Your date with Julie Pinsky."

"Oh, God. How did you get Julie to agree to that?"

"I didn't have to. I told Andy I'd give him one chance, on Friday night, provided that he got you a date with the Julie Pinsky. I tell you, that girl has no self-esteem at all. She came up to me in the hall before eighth period with this kind of really dull look, and asked me what time you were picking her up and what I thought you'd want her to wear. And then she told me what Andy would want me to wear. Like I really give a flying –"

"And what time am I picking her up?" I interrupted. "And where are we going? I assume this is Operation – what did you call it?"

"Operation Bury Richie Rich."

"And you're going to bury him by dating him? While I take his girlfriend somewhere else on a date?"

"You're staying here," Karen said. "Mom and Dad are going to a ball in Allentown, and won't be home until like two o'clock. So you'll be here. Where I'll be expecting you to use some of that Gail Dodge magic on Julie."

"Well, I suppose I could do that," I said with a blush, "with your permission, of course. While you'll be doing what, exactly?"

"Not letting that asshole Richie Rich fuck me for his five minutes of fame, for one thing."

"Well, this looks like it's going to be a good evening all around." I grinned, earning a swat on the arm.

And so on Friday evening, about a half an hour after Karen had left in the car that we'd convinced Mom and Dad to buy us, albeit with Karen's money (she'd absolutely refused to even sit in the car her "Aunt Camilla" had bought), I answered the door of my otherwise empty house to find the lovely Julie Pinsky, nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"Hi, Julie." I stepped back to let her in, and closed the door behind her. Karen had given her some very good advice on clothing: a white, short-sleeve blouse that was just low-cut enough to emphasize her chest, and a pair of black jeans.

"So, you want a joe blob?" she slurred.

That's when I suspected she might be a little tipsy.

"I'm sorry?" I grinned, leaning in.

"I said – UURRPP!"

And that's when I knew she was actually drunk. It landed on my clothes, her clothes, and the tiled floor of our foyer.

It turned out, though, that she couldn't have been that drunk. By the time Karen arrived home, a little after ten-thirty, Julie was sitting on one end of the couch wearing Karen's terry-cloth bathrobe, while I sat on the other end in sweat pants and a T-shirt. I was reading to her from one of my favorite Woody Allen stories, and she was laughing uproariously. We looked up as Karen banged through the door and then slammed it behind her.

"That son of a bitch!"

"What happened?" I rose to my feet.

"That son of a bitch drugged me!" she said. "He put some kind of shit in the wine he gave me."

I sat back down. She looked fine. Julie and I looked at each other and then back at her.

"'e turned me into a newt," Julie said.

"I got better," I added reflexively before I started laughing. Wow! Who knew what a jewel this girl was? I'll bet Richie Rich didn't. If I didn't already have the Hope Diamond...

Karen waited us out.

"Not me, jerk," she finally said. "The – you know."

"The what?" I said. This was way too cryptic even for me.

She opened her purse and stuck it in front of me.

"Gross!" I said, jerking my head back at the smell and pushing the purse away.

"Fuck!" Karen said. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a version of herself that was even smaller than the normal doll. I hadn't even known they could do that! The doll was clearly woozy, and had thrown up several times in Karen's purse on the way home.

"What – what is that?" Julie's eyes were wide as she watched the tiny girl writhing on the table top.

"Oh, shit!" Karen apparently just realized what she'd done. "Look, you have to promise that this will remain our secret, okay?"

Julie scooted back a little more.

"Julie?" Karen said, a little desperately. "Promise?"

Julie finally tore her eyes away long enough to look at Karen.

"Um, okay," Julie said. "What is it?"

Karen gave her the short version, and by the time she was finished, Julie – who had the evidence right in front of her – was perfectly willing to accept that I had a magical doll."

"So I brought the doll in my purse and sent her inside. Meanwhile, I went to O'Brien's to give myself an alibi. I spent the night talking to every jock in the place. And then I swing back by Richie's at ten, and look in to see myself lying on the couch. Richie was in the kitchen, and I heard some other voices, too. Apparently his buddies had me, too."

Julie turned beet red.

"He drugs you every time, doesn't he?"

"Well, he always gives me a glass of wine before we, you know, do it," Julie was starting to tear up. "He says it's to relax me."

"I'll bet," Karen said.

"You had one tonight, didn't you?" I said with sudden realization.

Julie was staring at me now.

"She came over here and upchucked all over me," I told Karen. "I had to wash the clothes twice, and now they're in the dryer. Then I went out to her car and found these."

I held up two little airplane bottles of bourbon.

"So she decided she needed some relaxing on her own. Most of it apparently landed on our floor before it really got into her."

"So you guys didn't . . .?" Karen asked.

I shook my head.

"But apparently you, or she . . .?" I asked tentatively.

"I don't want to talk about it," Karen said.

"So when did you shave, though?"

"Shave what?" Karen answered.

"Your, um, you know," I said, pointing at the doll's bare mound.

Karen just stared, her breath getting deeper and deeper. She turned to me and spoke with an eerily calm voice.

"It's time to pay that son of a bitch back."

"And you want to do that by?"

"By stealing his girlfriend."

"By what?" Julie whispered.

"By showing you, Julie, just how good sex can be," Karen said. "As opposed to five minutes with Mr. Littledick and his even smaller, slimier friends.

"Look at me, Julie," she said.

The brunette slowly raised her head, and finally looked Karen in the eye.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," she said. "You were drugged every time. And the three of them together didn't have this, did they?"

She stepped over to me, dropped to her knees, and yanked my sweats and briefs down my thighs.

I heard "Oh, golly," and looked over to see Julie with her hands over her mouth. I'd already seen this movie. Fortunately, I liked the way it ended.

CHAPTER TWO

Mom raised an eyebrow when she saw me eating breakfast with two lovely girls, but she also couldn't resist smiling.

"Mom, this is Julie Pinsky," Karen said. "Julie, this is Jason's real mom, and my second mom, Dana Thompson."

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Thompson."

"We were just thinking about who Julie ought to go to the prom with," Karen said.

"How about Gordon?" Mom said as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Gordon Ackerman?" I asked, a little puzzled.

"Gordon Ackerman?" Julie repeated, a little alarmed.

"Gordon Ackerman," Karen echoed, as if she'd just had a revelation. "You know Gordon, right?"

"Well, yeah," Julie said. "But . . ."

"But what?" Karen pressed her. "He's a nice guy."

"Well, yeah, he's nice," Julie agreed.

"And cute," Karen prompted.

"Well, yeah, he is cute, but he's kind of . . . geeky," Julie finally said.

Karen just stared at her for a minute before speaking.

"Yeah, how's that geek, non-geek thing working for you, anyway?" she said, not giving Julie a chance to answer before turning to me. "I forgot to tell you, when I first talked to Julie about this, the first thing she said to me was, 'You go out with Jason Thompson, right? I mean, he's kind of cute, but isn't he a little . . . geeky?' So what did you think of geeky, Pinsky?"

Her eyes wide, Julie looked over at my mom.

"Oh, I'll just take my coffee into the other room," Mom said with a smile, "and you guys can discuss all Gordon's and Jason's geekiness to your heart's content."

Julie blushed as my mother left, and then turned shyly back to Karen.

"So do you think that Gordon is as geeky as Jason?" she asked.

"I'm sure he has the potential," she said, "though I'd be surprised if he had as much practice. You might have to coach him up a little. But he's such an excellent student at everything else. . ."

Julie took a deep breath.

"Besides, I can make him even cuter," Karen added off-handedly.

"Excuse me?" I butted in. "You can go around making guys cuter?"

"Not all guys," Karen said. "You, for example, are just about cuted out. But Gordon, with a better haircut, and a nice tux – he's gonna be a real good-lookin' guy."

"I think I'm offended," I pouted.

"I think you're just full of crap," Karen said without any sympathy. "Well?"

"All right, God help me," Julie said after a deep breath. "I'll go to the prom with Gordon Ackerman. How do you know he hasn't asked anyone else? How do you know he'll ask me?"

"Gordon Ackerman, ask a girl out on his own?" Karen snorted. "Not likely. However, I do know a way to prod him along. I don't suppose you'd be willing to sign a paper, which we will witness, stating that you'll go out with him?"

"Well, I guess," Julie began, "but –"

"And notarized," I pointed out. "It has to be notarized."

"My dad's secretary is a notary," Julie said eagerly. Wait a minute, this hottie actually wanted to go out with Gordon Ackerman now? Maybe Karen pulled a switch with the dolls. "And they always work at the bank on the first and third Saturdays of each month."

"Well, let's get a move on," Karen said.

After breakfast, we drafted what we thought sounded like an official acceptance and I drove the group to the bank. We walked through the lobby to the offices in the bank and Julie started singing out.

"Hi, Mrs. Ack – kerman."

Julie had stopped dead in the middle of the door, so I had to slide around her to get into the office. Fortunately, as we were walking through the bank, I'd remembered that Gordon's mom worked there; otherwise I would have done the same stop-and-stare that Julie was now in the middle of. Not for the same reason, though. Julie, for example, had only just now realized that she was committing herself to date her father's secretary's son.

For me, it was a little different. After I'd dropped Shelly Johnson at her door on New Year's morning, I'd gone home to watch the football games. Mom and Dad went out around one o'clock to a party, and as soon as they left I'd summoned Shelly.

"Master," she purred, her eyes lighting up. "You were wonderful last night."

"Thanks," I said. "You were pretty amazing, too."

Well, I couldn't very well turn down a blow job from Shelly, could I? A few minutes later, though, I broached the subject that I'd summoned her to discuss, the crush she'd mentioned the night before. She explained that in her freshman year of college, she and her roommate had both had a crush on some Steve guy from their Intro Psych class, and that I was, if not a dead ringer for Steve, the next closest thing. Right before Thanksgiving, they both had a little too much wine and the roommate, Andrea, had called him and invited him over. Before anything could happen, a fire alarm sent the entire dorm out into the street.

Shelly also explained that after they got home for break the next day, Andrea had reunited with her high school sweetheart and, a month later, found herself pregnant. After that, she never came back to school. With Andrea spoken for, Shelly had dated Steve a few times after Thanksgiving, but, because of her exams and some problems he was having at home, they never seriously hooked up. And then he too hadn't shown up at school after Christmas break, and had never answered any of Shelly's letters to boot.

Shelly was blushing so furiously when she told the story, particularly the first part, that I decided to have a little fun. I summoned the two beautiful, horny eighteen-year-old coeds, Shelly Havelmeyer and Andrea Hanson, and "reenacted" the incident. While I was doing it, though – specifically, while Shelly was sitting on my cock and Andrea – "call me Andy, Steve" – was sitting on my face – I couldn't help but think that Andrea looked vaguely familiar.

After we were finished, I used the dolls to find out why.

"Andrea Hanson," the current version, was my buddy Gordon's mom, Andrea Ackerman. Interesting, I remember thinking, that the dolls respond to either the maiden name or the married name. Huh.

And while I was thinking about this interesting phenomenon, Andrea Ackerman, twenty pounds heavier, maybe, with much shorter hair and a much, much more conservative outfit, was dropping to the floor to give me a blow job.

"No, no, no," I said. Shelly was one thing. Gordon's mom was something else. She was still very attractive, but no, no, no. In fact, if I'd known it was her when I was, er, enjoying the teenaged version, it would have put a serious damper on the afternoon's activities. There were some things you just didn't do in Hardwood, Pennsylvania.

The adult version of Andrea confirmed Shelly's story, and told me that she'd married Gordon's dad after she'd dropped out of college. He had died when Gordon was ten years old. She hadn't been working at the time, but had found a nice job in the bank and, with a little insurance money, had made a nice life for herself and Gordon. It was a cute little story and I dismissed her.

I'd long since forgotten it. It was only while Karen, Julie, and I were trooping through the lobby of the bank today that I remembered that Andrea Ackerman worked there. Fortunately, Julie's surprise gave me time to cover up my own.

"Hi, Mrs. Ack - kerman," I mimicked Julie. "I had no idea you pronounced it that way."

"Hello, Jason," Andrea looked up and smiled. "Julie. Your dad's busy at the moment."

"That's all right," I said. "We wanted to see you. Mrs. A, this is Karen McCarthy. Karen, this is Gordon's mom."

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Ackerman," Karen said.

"And it's nice to finally meet the gorgeous redhead I've heard so much about," Mrs. Ackerman smiled as Karen blushed. "Gordon's been telling me that his friends are dating the hottest girls in school. And I saw Gunner and his girlfriend at the mall yesterday evening. You boys are certainly doing all right for yourselves, aren't you?"

Karen immediately picked up on the wistfulness in her voice.

"So Gordon hasn't asked anyone to the prom, huh?" she said.

"No," Mrs. Ackerman sighed. "I keep telling him that he's going to regret not going, even if it's just with a friend. But who listens to mothers?"

"I always listen to my mother, Mrs. A," I said. "And my mother would tell you not to give up hope quite that quickly. Speaking of which, could you notarize something for us?"

"Certainly," she said, happy for the change of subject. "All three of you?"

"Julie's going to sign it, and Karen and I will witness it," I explained. "Maybe you should read it first."

"Oh that's not necessary," Julie managed to speak for the first time since her initial greeting. I snatched the paper out of her hands and put it in on Andrea's desk. I watched Andrea read it and then stiffen.

"This is not very funny, Julie Pinsky," she said in a somewhat loud and trembling voice. She glared over at me, and I just grinned back at her.

"Jason Thompson," she began to scold me as well before stopping short. Apparently, it occurred to her that I was one of her son's best friends, and unlikely to be involved in a practical joke this hurtful. She turned back to Julie in confusion.

"But you're dating that assho—" she started before abruptly shutting her mouth. I couldn't help but start laughing, and Karen was about to join me when we heard another voice from the doorway on the opposite side of the room.

"That asshole Andy Richardson?"

We looked up to see a good-looking guy in his early forties with a broad grin on his face leaning against the door frame.

"Daddy!" Julie squeaked.

"Hi, punkin," he said. "Sorry, I just couldn't resist finishing one of Andrea's sentences. She's been doing that to me for years."

"Mister Pinsky, I am so sorry," Mrs. Ackerman said.

"Oh, you are not," Mr. Pinsky said. "And I think my daughter knows by now that you call me Gene. Hi, I'm Gene Pinsky."

"Oh, excuse me," Mrs. Ackerman said, still flustered. "Mr. Pinsky, this is Jason Thompson, one of my son's friends, and Karen McCarthy."

"Very nice to meet you," he said jovially. "Although I have to tell you that what got me out of my seat was that voice. 'This is not very funny, Julie Pinsky.'"

He added the last in a high falsetto that had Mrs. Ackerman squirming in her seat.

"Just last week," Mr. Pinsky pressed on, "she used the very same tone of voice on me when I gave her her bonus. 'This is not very funny, Gene Pinsky.' Apparently, she thought that I, a bank president, mind you, was giving her a fraudulent check."

He was clearly enjoying this, and walked over to the desk to pick up the paper we'd worked up. He read it over and cocked an eyebrow at his daughter. Without warning, he tore it in half.

I could see Karen about to explode next to me, and Julie looked like she'd just lost her best friend. Mrs. Ackerman, in the meantime, had gone from looking outraged to simply looking shocked.

Suddenly, Julie's father gave us a big smile.

"Let's do this right, shall we? Andrea, get some of the good paper. Hey, Frank, come on out here."

Another figure appeared in the doorway.

"Hi, Uncle Frank," Julie said.

"Hi, sweetie," he answered.

"Frank Tonelli, this is Karen McCarthy. Karen, Frank is the mayor of Hardwood and Julie's godfather."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Karen said, all but curtseying.

"And this is Jason Thompson." Mister Pinsky turned to me after Karen had shaken hands with the mayor. We shook hands as well.

Mr. Pinsky turned back to Julie.

"So what happened to that – to Mr. Richardson, that is?"

"My, um, new friends have convinced me that I need to date, um, other guys," Julie said shyly.

"And that's what this is, you're going to be dating this – um – Gordon Ackerman?" he smiled. "Do we know anything about him?"

He handed the two pieces of paper back to Mrs. A, who was clearly mortified at this new development.