The Real Real Doll Ch. 04

An awkward silence filled the room after he filled my mouth with his cum. A momentary look of confusion passed over his features, and then something else; a look of resignation perhaps.

He then hiked up his slacks and strode to the en suite bathroom, shutting the door with a quiet thud.

I had expected some sort of clumsy exchange initially, but what just transpired speaks of a man not comfortable in his own skin. A man with undefined boundaries is a man headed for rocky shoals. I decide to sit and wait for him to reappear. What else can I do?

**********

Safely shut inside the bathroom, the racing thoughts continue. What will I do with her now? Will she sleep in my bed? No, I won't be able to sleep with this strange being. Ok, she sleeps, er um; she'll be stored in the spare bedroom.

Coming out of the bathroom, I am greeted with the image of her sitting on my duvet; legs crossed, smirky smile. I completely forget what I had intended to do as she asks me if I am hungry. Nervous and jittery all morning; huge cum; yes, I am hungry.

She reaches inside her box and opens a compartment that contains what looks like a few items of clothing. Out comes a frilly black apron with white lace around the edge. She ties it on, and looks at me.

"Is this to your liking sir? Your preference card indicated you enjoy the French maid look."

Staring at her supple naked form hidden only by a sexy apron, I can't remember what the hell was on my preference card. It would be easy to get lost in her thighs for the remainder of the day.

"Will you show me the kitchen please?" she says, which pulls me out of my stupor.

"Of course, follow me."

As we head through the doorway and down the hall, I get the distinct impression she is watching me. And not as any other home appliance would. There is something about her that is eerily authentic. Intuitive artificial intelligence comes standard with Real Dolls, but there is something more there.

We arrive in the kitchen, and she immediately padded past me to the refrigerator and opened the door.

Her full ass is exposed and the apron strings tied around her waist form a white bow across her lower back. Her ass looks like a succulent present waiting to be unwrapped. My dick twitches at the thought of sinking into her gift.

Her eyes squint as she peers inside the cool interior.

"Not much in there, I know. I usually just eat out."

"Do you own a freezer Mr. Williams?"

I point to her right and down. The freezer is hidden amongst the lower cabinets. I had almost forgotten I had a freezer...or a name, after staring at her voluptuous body.

She quickly yanks the handle and the freezer compartment slides out. She bends down to rummage inside the space a few moments as I continue to stare at her ass waggling in my direction.

Pulling out a packet covered in white butcher paper, she seems triumphant as she proceeds to thaw its contents. A juicy steak. Ah yes. My growling stomach highly approves of her find.

She gets the steak marinating and begins to scour the cabinets for something else. Sensing me staring at her, she turns and says:

"Sir, I will call you when dinner is ready."

I am obviously enjoying watching her move around the kitchen too much to leave at this point. My dick is semi-hard and hyper aware of her every maneuver.

"I will stay. I cleared my work schedule so that we can spend some time getting accustomed to each another."

She really is an accomplished chef. Watching her masterfully carve the root vegetables she found in a bin almost made me forget about her firm round ass...almost.

As the steak hits the pan, the aroma of garlic and olive oil permeates the kitchen and my olfactory receptors.

I'm not sure whether I want to eat first or fuck her first. My belly is moaning for sustenance as my cock is aching to be sheathed. Would it be possible to do both at the same time?

She continues preparing the rest of my dinner, oblivious to my inner turmoil.

Just as she plates my steak and accompaniments, my mobile phone rings.

Fucking hell! I made it clear I did not want to be disturbed this weekend unless it was an emergency. The number that flashes across the screen is obviously a work extension.

"Mr. Williams? This is Fiona Andreas. I'm sorry to bother you at home, but there's a problem with the new design. If we don't correct it as soon as possible, there will be a delay in production. Can you come into the office?"

Son of a bitch!

"Of course Fiona, I will be there momentarily."

"Look Victoria, something has come up at the office. I need to go in to work and I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. Can you put the food in a container to go for me? Thanks. When you're done cleaning up, you may go to the spare room and shut down until further notice."

**********

Son of a bitch! Accustomed to each another?? When I'm done cleaning up?? Jesus, this was a really bad idea.

Actually, I need to own that I made a poor choice for an owner. No matter how many personality tests or background checks, it's impossible to predict compatibility.

He flew out the door as if the building were on fire; food firmly in hand. The delectable smells of steak and potatoes still floated in the air.

His absence does give me time to pee, freshen up, eat and relax a bit I suppose.

**********

Ten minutes later I'm at the office. Only a few cars are parked in the lot; those probably belonging to security and maintenance since it's the weekend.

I head up to my office. The door is slightly ajar.

I push it open to see my design engineer, Fiona Andreas, sitting on my desk, legs crossed, very short, tight black skirt, and fishnet stockings with the garter on the upper thigh showing; chocolate brown silk blouse, opened past her mound of cleavage.

Her black hair, which is usually in a severe bun on the top of her head, is cascading down her back and shoulders. Her glasses are perched on the tip of her nose as she smiles at me provocatively.

As she sees me, she uncrosses her legs and spreads them so that I can almost detect a shadow of her bush.

What the fuck is this? My mind is about to flake out. I am goddamn hungry, horny, distracted...and now this! "Uh, Fiona? Is there an emergency?"

"Why yes there is Mr. Williams," she says as she draws a black riding crop out from behind her back, "I need to be fucked.

"Come. Stand right here." She points to a spot in-between her legs.

My mouth is gaping like a fish out of water. Had I ever considered this type of scenario coming from Ms. Andreas? Not even remotely.

As per usual, the timing could not be any worse.

"Ah, Fiona, I'm flattered and, um well, any other time I would, ah really enjoy what you are offering. You see, I've got a big project going on at home that I am in the middle of and this just isn't a great time for um, whatever this is."

The mischief in her eyes tells me my words have fallen on deaf ears.

Why the hell didn't she do this month's ago? I may not have even considered ordering a...doll.

Suddenly I have this strange emotion trying to surface. What the hell could it be? Surely not?

Thoughts of Victoria at home alone, wearing only a lacy apron fill me with something akin to, well...guilt, I suppose. How can that be? She's not even real for Christ's sake!

Ignoring my feeble attempt at a dismissal, she very seductively eases her ass off of the desk and slowly heads in my direction.

Her eyes are locked with mine as her hand continues to cradle the riding crop.

Her journey ends deep inside my personal space, three inches from my face. I can feel her warm breath on my neck.

"Since you disobeyed my request, Mr. Williams, I feel it only right to let you know your punishment will be much more severe."

"Unbutton my blouse...slowly."

This is completely insane! How can this be happening? I go from absolutely no action for months, to the best blow job I've ever had, AND some sort of dominatrix ordering me to strip her down in my office, all in one day?

Of course one is real and the other is just a machine.

Having placed Victoria back into her rightful pigeon hole of animate inanimate objectification, I decide to embrace fully what has presented itself at this time and place.

My fingers dance across the buttons momentarily before my hand slips directly down the front of her blouse.

Buttons fly through the air and land on the short-nap carpeting as my hand grasps a mound of flesh hidden by the silk.

In her surprise, she forgot that she'd given me a direct order and leaned her body into my palm. Her head fell back and she moaned as my other hand explored her taut little body. Soft, velvety skin. Beautiful swell to her hips. Luscious breasts with long nipples poking at the fabric of her bra...just begging to be released and tongued.

I walk her backwards toward the desk she'd only recently vacated.

My cock, pointing her in the right direction, seemed to have a mind of its own; bursting at the zipper and demanding to be freed.

Once at the desk, I remove the riding crop from her fingers and turn her around. Her ass is peeking out from beneath her impossibly short skirt.

I shove her skirt higher up, so that it floats around her waist. Her tiny little thong is exposed, nestled snugly between her round cheeks.

"I believe you are the one that's been naughty Ms. Andreas. Lying in wait for your innocent victim. Tsk, tsk. What shall be YOUR punishment...hmm?"

Without waiting for a response, I tap the leather tip of the riding crop against the delicate skin of her ass. She flinches and moans at the new sensation.

After a few more swats, her ass is flushed red. I massage my fingers over the welts. She coos at my touch.

"Slip your shirt off and turn around Ms. Andreas."

She does as she is told, turning around to meet my gaze.

I unfasten my slacks and lower the zipper as she watches with fascination. My dick emerges with its tip glistening.

She moves to take me into her mouth, but I stop her short. I want something else at the moment.

"No. Stroke me with the silk."

A glimmer of surprise and excitement crosses her face. She wraps the fabric around my cock and slowly twists her hands around it. The cool silk combined with her firm touch feels like heaven.

As she strokes, I run my hands through her hair; pull it away from her throat. I bare my teeth into the inviting curve of her neck and bite down so very delicately.

A moan reverberates inside her chest and trickles out of her mouth as I continue to nibble on her soft flesh.

The chocolate silk is getting wetter and wetter as pre-cum spills from the tip of my swollen cock.

She uses one hand to continue to stroke me as she reaches down and slides the sleeve of her shirt across my balls.

Oh my god, this feels insanely good. I could cum from this.

The thought of my pearly cum splashing all over her coffee-colored blouse like a Jackson Pollack mocha latte is an enticing image; but she might not find it quite as beautifully illustrated as I. After all, I had barely touched her.

Could I be that selfish twice in one day?

As much as I didn't want her to stop, I eased the silken goodness from her hand and tossed it on the floor.

I briefly wondered if she'd brought a change of clothing, or whether she would be wearing my sticky adoration on her trip home.

Her legs quivered as I run my fingertips along her inner thighs. The dainty thong she is wearing forms a triangle over her shaved quim.

I moved the fabric aside and rubbed my thumb along her crevice. She is sopping wet to the touch. My digit dabbled over her clit a moment and then back down the length of her opening. Her juices are dribbling down her slit. She trembles as my thumb nears her rosebud.

The thought of entering her tight asshole sends a renewed shiver of lust to my loins. I wonder if she would be receptive to a little exploratory well-drilling?

I rub my thumb across her hole again, gauging any type of reaction. She thrusts her pelvis forward, moaning as my thumb gets pressed a bit harder against her backdoor.

I stop exploring long enough to grab the strings of her panties and ease them down her thighs. She raised her ass enough to let them pass under her cheeks and down her silken legs. As they drop to the floor, I head back to her buffet.

The picture before me is devastatingly arousing. Disheveled hair, lusty eyes; mouth and pussy agape.

Kneeling between her legs, I drink in her scent. Her arousal is evident, not only visually but scent-uously.

I engulf her entire mound in my mouth and suck furiously. She squeals and grabs my hair with both hands. She grinds her pussy against my face as she pulls my head deeper into her cunt.

I lap at her clit and run my thumb back and forth against her asshole. She starts to pant as my thumb sinks inside a tiny bit.

I withdraw and then return, inching further with each return. She is literally humping my face as I slide half my thumb into her bottom.

Her rhythmic gyrations get more frenzied as her quivering slit erupts in my mouth. She grinds her juicy pussy against my face as her whole body reverberates with her orgasm.

Finally the pent up tension leaves her body and she relaxes back onto my desk.

I am utterly erect. Not just my dick. My skin is on fire. The hairs on my arms and legs are on end and my scalp is crawling. Every ounce of my entire being wants to fuck her, and fuck her hard.

With her still on her back, legs dangling from the desk, I position my aching member at her gasping hole. The tip of my dick just barely slips inside her dark interior.

I want to pummel her with force, but I don't. She still seems to be recovering from her explosive cum.

I press further inside, holding back the urge to cum the minute I thrust fully inside her.

Suddenly, she becomes alert enough to look a little frantic.

"No, wait, stop!"

"What? What's wrong?" I say with more than a little agitation.

"Do you have a condom?"

"No, why?"

"I just assumed you'd have a condom in your wallet. I'm not on the pill, and I CANNOT fuck you without one. I just can't go through that again!"

I momentarily consider risking becoming known as a complete fuck wad by repositioning myself at her backdoor, but then think better of it. Unprotected sex is unprotected sex.

Oh my fucking god! If there ever was an instant dick-shrinking moment, what just transpired was that moment.

I am still poised at her entrance, though my cock has softened considerably. Processing what she just said, I am dumbfounded...."can't go through that again"?

I back away from her wishing I could snap my fingers and make this awkward situation go away.

She looks up at me with pleading eyes and I am fairly certain I won't get out of this without some tears. Please, no tears.

As if reading my mind, her eyes turn on like a faucet, and then her words. She sobs as she reveals intimate details regarding her last failed relationship, as if I am suddenly her therapist.

With every fiber of my being I do not want to be having this conversation.

A sudden realization hits me like a lead balloon.

The reason I haven't had a relationship in years...

The reason I've been, for all intensive purposes, a monk for almost ever (well, not counting that happy ending massage I got while on a business trip to the Philippines)...

The reason I placed an order for a made to spec, big-breasted, long-legged, artificially intelligent fuck toy/merry maid is that I am attracted to and seem to somehow attract, like a moth to a flame: damaged women.

Women who are desperate.

Women who's Daddies never paid them enough attention.

Women who don't love themselves enough.

There is nothing wrong with that type of woman. There are some men who are looking for a princess to rescue and fix all her problems. I'm just not that type of man.

At least I had the good sense to avoid this sort of uncomfortable interaction for the last few years, knowing how fragile my Ego truly is.

Catching Fiona mid-sob, I pluck a tissue from the box on the desk, hand it to her and apologize. For what? Well, I suppose for not having a condom.

"I'm sorry."

I help her sit up and then attend to buttoning myself back up.

"This was incredibly exciting Fiona, but I really must go. A time-sensitive shipment arrived earlier today that I need to deal with. I'm sorry to have to rush off."

She looked resigned and a little embarrassed as she pulled the two sides of her blouse closed. No buttons remained to shutter her bra from view.

"Sure. No problem, Mr. Williams. Excuse me while I head to the ladies room."

She stood on still trembling legs and tugged the hem of her skirt down with both hands. Her blouse billowed open again in the process. She gathered the two sides together and left the room.