The Fuckdoll Certification

"What is it? What? Come on, what are you all quiet for all of a sudden?" I suspected she might be teasing me; there was a knowing twinkle in her eye. She knew what 'it' was.

"What is it?" She said again, slowly. Quietly. She reached out slowly, as if afraid of startling me. I let her push my hand aside at a glacial pace.

"There it is" she said breathily.

I couldn't have been harder if I'd mainlined a metric ton of Cialis.

"Oh, gosh." She had to know what the soft whispers did to me. What am I saying, of course she did. She was a professional.

Wordlessly, she closed the door of the apartment, standing on tiptoe to press herself face first against it for a moment, and peeking through the peephole needlessly. She was putting on a show, knowing that my eyes were firmly glued to her wide, round ass and flaring hips. Just a little plump. Perfection. She pirouetted back to face me.

"Well Mr. Man," she cooed, "I assume you have a bedroom?"

My astonishment was writ plainly on my face, which she chuckled at sweetly. I watched and listened to her as if from the other side of a waking dream.

"Is it...this way?" She pointed down the hall, taking a slow step down the only hall in the place. The way she turned to walk away, body before head, never breaking eye contact, turned my own feet to cinder blocks. She was halfway to my room before looking back to realize I wasn't following. I'm sure my jaw was on the floor.

"Come on stud," she implored, "we've got some work to do." In a smoothly practiced motion, back turned to me, she peeled her tank top off and dramatically dropped it to the floor at her feet, reaching the end of the hall and chancing to turn toward the right room in just her teal sports bra.

Too late, I remembered what state I'd left my room in to answer the door.

"Hey wait! There's uh, just let me..."

She stood like a devoted student of fine art beholding an entire gallery of of Da Vincis or Rembrandts, slowly swaying back and forth at the array of outright filth in front of her.

"I can explain" I offered optimistically.

"You don't have to," she said quietly, "This. Is. AMAZING! I love it!" Strobing purple and blue light played across the captivated look on her face. "Gahhhh!" she squealed, clenching her upraised fists in a delighted little tremble.

"This is perfect" she reiterated, sounding like a world of possibility had just revealed itself to her.

"You...you really like it?"

"Yeah! I think it's great! Beat's trying to rub one out to a shitty video on your cracked phone screen." She pulled a beat up phone out of her bra and waved it at me before she tossed it onto the bed. The move felt oddly familiar for someone who'd just walked into a stranger's cum palace. Without missing a beat, she produced a hair tie from nowhere, reaching to put her already pigtailed braids up.

"Oh gosh," she laughed, seemingly totally at ease, "I forgot I did the braids. Do you want the braids or just, like, a regular pony? I can do a real high one if you want?"

"Sorry. What?" I stammered, trying to ignore the parade of ass and tits that played on by on the monitors. The members of the discord server had devolved into spamming gifs of women getting impaled on shockingly large dildos.

"Well if you wanna pull on the braids then I'll leave them in, but I can take them out if you just think one pony would be cuter. I kinda like the one actually. Oh, but you pick." She waited patiently for me to catch up. This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

"I. I think the braids are cute?"

"Goof," she teased, "are you asking me, or telling me?"

"Yes? Yes. Telling, I'm telling you. Braids!"

"Alright then tiger," she laughed, tossing the elastic toward her phone, "the chair then, or the bed?"

How she expected me to make informed decisions with all of the blood that usually makes my brain think currently diverted to my cock is beyond me.

"Bed?"

"Ahh, you're a mess; I'm picking this one. Drop 'em, and get in your chair mister."

I wasn't a virgin. I wasn't. Okay? I'd fucked before.

Twice.

Well, kinda twice. One was a little fast.

"Sure. Sure, yeah, okay." I scrambled to tug my shorts down, my cock bobbing past the waistband with an elastic flop to hang perpendicularly in the air straight out in front of me. She watched it all with hands on hips, issuing an incredulous chuffing noise as I finished kicking the silky bottoms aside.

"Yeah wow OKAY then, whatever the fuck that is!" she sputtered bluntly, blinking rapidly with a shake of her head.

"Is it, what? Is it okay?"

"Like I get that you sit in here watching a lot of porn, but come on man. Seriously? You have to know that thing is ridiculous."

It was true. I did sit in here watching a lot of porn. I was under the impression it was average, at best.

She stepped towards me where I still occupied the doorframe of the room, reaching to steal the pages I'd forgotten I was holding. She scanned the first, and flipped to the second, close enough again for me to catch a whiff of her shampoo. Coconut.

"Yeah, see here" she said, pointing at something I couldn't see, "Have you got a tape measure?"

Weirdly, I did. Well, I had a ruler. I bent to open the disused keyboard tray of my desk, pushing the chair aside to do so, and rummaged among the disused pens for the clear length of plastic. I passed it to her.

Without ceremony or warning, she reached out and cupped the head of my dick under one hand, laying the ruler alongside the length of me. She made the snorting sound again.

"Yeah. Jeez. Okay," she said as she tossed the ruler onto the desk, "that's those three settled then."

"Sorry, which?"

"Blowjob. Deepthroat. Big Dick. You have to be 8 inches for that one, which you're...definitely...good for. Now sit down, I need to suck your cock real quick."

Who said romance was dead.

I did as I was told, shirt still on, which I was promptly rebuked for.

"Come on," she urged, "I took mine off. Show me some skin!"

I lost the shirt.

She dropped to her knees on the floor in front of me, chair turned so my back was to the screens of my computer, letting her kneel comfortably. She rubbed my bare thighs; the gesture grounded me tremendously for long enough to appreciate the moment.

"Can you take your tits out?" I asked hopefully.

"Whoa. Hello. Okay, yeah. I was beginning to wonder if this was a little much for you." She worked the tight bra over her head and pitched it behind her, baring a pair of full boobs that wobbled and swayed heavily as she shook her head free.

"Eh? Not bad, huh?" she said playfully, cupping them in her hands proudly.

"They're beautiful!"

"Thanks handsome; grew 'em myself!"

We shared a small chuckle as she briefly rubbed my legs again before taking a deep, serious breath.

"Okay. Ready?"

I nodded. My cock stood straight up before her; she had to actually tilt her head to peer around it. She smiled. The hunger of it might have frightened me if I wasn't so turned on.

"Alright, here goes nothing."

It was the last she spoke for several minutes.

Juicy lips, sticky with a cheap lip gloss, made a pillowy smooch on the soft underside of my head, pearly bead of thin precum mixing with the shiny pink product she'd applied. I closed my eyes and exhaled hard, sinking into my chair blissfully. Even if she'd stopped there, I could have died a happy man.

She didn't though. Turning her head to the side, she planted a half dozen similarly luscious kisses all the way along the span of my cock, pressing it curiously to her face as she lingered to push her lips firmly at the space between my cock and hanging balls. Lavishing more attention on the area around the base, she gently twisted and pumped her right hand just up, over, and around the head of my aching head, smearing my own sticky solution around messily.

She dragged a long, wet lick from bottom to top; it was all I could do to keep my breath steady. Her eyes remained closed. If I hadn't known better, I would have imagined she was relishing the act like as a lover might.

She *did* seem to be savoring me. At least a little bit.

Her lick reached its apex with a deft flick over the head, right up along the slight slit at the tip in the moment she finally opened her eyes to stare right through my own. She still spoke not a word.

Holding my gaze, which I was surprised I could return with any success, she slipped her lips over the tip. An inch only, at first; just enough to hide my glistening tip.

She advanced, another inch. Another. Another inch, still, and further again without breaking the eye contact. More than half way down, her eyelid fluttered. Just the one at first, as I felt her twitch with a small swallow. She backed off, just a hair, and pressed on. This time, both sets of lashes danced momentarily before she regained control with a determined frown. Her hands squeezed at my thighs and I felt myself push past what was surely the barrier of her throat. Only a fleeting moment passed where I was certain she'd abandon the effort before she astounded me anew by forcing her tongue out onto her chin and slipping firmly down to press her nose against my pelvis. She'd done it.

She didn't come up.

She wasn't coming up.

Surely she needed to come up for a breath.

A retching heave erupted from her as she finally threw her head backward, thick streamers of ropey saliva drawing trails from her mouth and chin to the throbbing cock she milked with her hand. Her tongue circled her lips to tame the mess while she caught her breath, and I noticed her blinking runny tears away.

"Gahhhh," she barked roughly, "fucking...fuck."

I reached down to hold the hand that she still had on my lap, and gave it a squeeze. She squeezed back, blinking a last tear away and laughing. I beamed down at her, immensely proud.

"That, now that," she gulped at the air, "is a fucking cock."

"That was incredible" I told her, imagining she might enjoy the reprieve of some praise while she composed herself.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Wanna see me do it again?" she asked, without giving me the chance to answer before she lunged back down the entire hard measure of my stiff dick.

There was no more estimation or hesitant appraisal to be done; she'd gotten the lay of things and made a show of swallowing me down in a single messy gulp, even bobbing her head determinedly while most of me lay rooted deep in her practiced throat.

"You're showing off!" I laughed, genuinely floored by the display. She pulled back and off again, wiping her chin with a forearm while she milked me with the free hand.

"So? Gotta make sure you know I can take it" she retorted confidently. Her grin was devilish, and not diminished in the least by the fact that her mascara was beginning to run.

"I've seen it," I said, "I know you can take. And you look so pretty doing it." I'd hoped the praise would land.

"Well maybe," she said as she drew deep breaths in preparation for another trial, slapping some stray hairs back onto her head, "maybe you'll actually take a hint and fuck my throat then."

And with that, my cock disappeared once again. It seemed almost effortless now. Almost.

I roared a hearty and honest 'FUCK' as she forced herself down on me, now confident in her ability to hold her tongue and throat *just so*; she worked halfway up and back down to the base repeatedly, issuing squelching gags that she seemed to be shouting behind in her throat. It was...a lot. I lost count of the violent, coughing gulps as she pushed her throat to it's punishing limits.

"FUCK," she yelled angrily, at least as loud as I had, "Your. Hand." she grabbed a hand from my leg, "Goes. Here." She slapped it to the crown of her head. "Got it?"

I nodded intently, unsure if I had it in me to follow through.

"I asked you a fucking question. Are you going to fucking gag me on this cock or not? Are you going to ACTUALLY fuck my throat?"

I didn't think people actually said shit like that to each other.

"Yes."

"Good. Don't make me," she launched a wad of spit onto my cock, "ask again."

Any reservation I had about her safety or fortitude was obliterated by the ferocity with which she devoured me; there was seemingly no limit to how hard I could slam her downwards, or to how long she was prepared to forego the need to breathe. Knowing that she would surely need at least some oxygen soon, I held her face tightly into me and popped my hips forward in a dozen short, bumping thrusts before pushing her backward.

I feared the worst, thinking we'd gone too far. Her makeup was thoroughly ruined, running freely in dark tracks of tearful streams down her entire face. Her eyes, bloodshot and red, looked glassy with dissociation. Snot or mucus, or both, bubbled or coated her from the tip of her nose to the cleft of her chin where the messy mixture dropped in gobbets onto her heaving chest. She expelled a wet bubble of spittle from her lips with a breathy *puhh* and blinked herself back to reality.

She grinned. It was terrifyingly present, and more than a little pleased with itself.

"Am I still pretty?" she asked.

If I'd had any hope of resisting or denying her by then, that hope was now entirely obliterated.

"God, are you ever." I was in love.

From where she kneeled still, resting back to sit on her heels a moment, she pouted a duck-lipped kiss and held her fingers in 'V' next to her face before falling into a fit of giggles. I languidly stroked myself and joined her, laughing in my relief to realize that there was never a chance I'd actually be able to push her limits. I wasn't sure she had any.

"Wait, take a picture of me!" she demanded, scrambling sideways to reach across the small room to pluck her phone off the low bed.

I took the device and snapped the shot, as requested.

"Oh yeah, fuck. I *do* look hot!" The fact that she pulled off the look of pride while drenched in her own spit and tears further convinced me that there was nothing she couldn't handle.

She snapped a few more selfies while I watched on affectionately, relishing the sight of her smearing the stuff back and forth across her tits and their big, dark brown nipples.

"Fuck, I am absolutely SOAKED!" she laughed, looking down at herself.

"You sure are" I replied, pointedly staring at the wet spot between her legs that showed through the thin fabric of her yoga pants. She followed my look with a chuckle.

"Oops!" she said, cackling.

"That makes two of us I guess" I offered.

"Well someone had to cum from that, and since you're apparently too used to your iron grip, Mr. Masturbatorium, I figured it had to be me!"

"You came from blowing me?" I didn't believe her; that was a porn myth for sure.

"Well, while you were busy forcing that monster you call a cock down my poor throat, I guess you didn't bother to notice me rubbing myself."

I conceded that I hadn't.

"Wait, fuck! Ohhhh damn it!" she abruptly cried.

"What is it?" I was so concerned that I even slowed my stroking. A little bit.

"I have to actually film it for the FISC thingy. Fuck!"

"None of that counted?"

"Well how will they know if I don't have proof?"

"The selfie won't do it?"

"I could make that selfie with a cucumber in my own bedroom; it's gotta be a video."

"Well just do it again!" she arched her eyebrow at me heavily. "I mean, just quick, for the...the thing."

"Yeah I bet you'd like that." That wry grin again. Always such a tease. "Alright, hang on."

She got up and used a bundle of clothes on my floor to prop her phone up; the angle was good to film us at profile, from the side.

Satisfied with her setup, she turned back to face me. She was thinking. I loved when she thought. It had turned out so well for me so far.

"Maybe..." she mused quietly to herself, tapping a finger against her lips. As cute as she was, a few minutes had passed; I was losing wood at an alarming rate.

"Mhm" she decided, answering her own unasked question.

Again, I had no part in the decision making. She tugged at her waistband and shimmied her scrumptious ass out of the tight pants, smiling as she regarded the look of sheer disbelief on my face. She was...she was stunning. A tight crop of stubbly hair crowned her, frankly, divine pussy. Plump, full lips, and a neatly hooded little button of a clit practically demanded my eternal devotion. They had it. They so had it.

"Lean back, please" she crooned sweetly, having exorcized whatever ravenous anger had compelled her to impale her face on me. She pursed her lips and hummed a few notes while wiggling her hips eagerly, waiting for me to comply. I was quick about it.

She stepped up and placed one knee to the side of my hip, stopping to consider. She put the foot back down, scrunching her face. There was no way. There was no way she would fuck me.

"Bed." She pointed me home.

I lay back, entirely too hard to handle again. She stood at the bedside regarding her prospect with a contented little "Hmm!", before kneeing her way onto the mattress with me.

"And now," She said, continuing to carry on some private dialogue that I could only be partially privy to. She swung a leg over my hips, straddling me and holding my cock up to her tummy. The geometry didn't look feasible. The noise she made as she patted it against herself told me that, not only would it fit, but she'd enjoy making it if she needed to.

She rocked forwards, putting a hand alongside my head to steady herself, and reaching back to press my tip between her lips. I felt something warm. Wet. She jiggled me back and forth while biting her lip, inches from my face.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Good" she said, leaning backwards. The warm pressure enveloped me inch by inch, and she leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

"Then I'm going to need you to fill me. All. The. Way. Up." She punctuated the words with a gasp as she sat herself all the way down on me. As wet as she was, it was no wonder it went so smoothly. She tucked her face into my neck, and I could feel her cheek muscles twitching as she began pulling faces in time with the short, bouncing bumps that her hips worked. There was nothing interesting to see on my ceiling, so I closed my eyes and let my hands explore her, wandering the length and breadth of her soft back, and down to enjoy meaty handfuls of her firm ass.

"Squeeze me again," she whispered in my ear, "I liked it." I did as I was told. She continued to ride me, still in those short, staccato strokes that felt as though I might be bumping about as deep as she could handle.

"Mmm that's my good boy," she murmured, "tell me you like the way I feel."

"You feel so good" I managed to say falteringly. She really did.

"Do you love it?"

"I love it.

"What do you love, baby? Tell me what you love."

"I love the way you feel." It was an effort to maintain coherent thought.

"The way what feels?"

"Your pussy. I love the way your pussy feels."

"Gooood boy" she sighed breathily. She worked a longer couple of strokes at that. Maybe the praise was her thing.

"And are you going to give this pussy what it needs?"

I mumbled something incoherent, squeezing my eyes shut tight.

"Oh come on now baby, do better. What are you going to give this pussy?"

I tried again, struggling through gritted teeth. Her kisses at my earlobe did nothing to help.

"Hmm?"

"Cum. My cum."

"Almost," she sighed between kisses on my neck, "almost baby. It's actually," she dropped to a barely audible whisper,

"My cum."

And I nearly gave it to her right then. Only her expert timing saved me from disaster as she sat slowly back down to keep me perched at the precipice of agony.

She sat still for maybe half a minute, one hand tenderly cupping my face while she kissed along my neck, jawline, and finally my lips. I couldn't believe I hadn't kissed her yet. I knew for certain I had no right to. She whispered into my lips as she began to move again.