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But as I walk up the long driveway, I see there’s another huge, six-foot Amazon package by the front door. Has Brad ordered another life-size doll? Holy shit! How many does he need? Sure enough, the package is a plain brown box, shaped like a coffin, allegedly from a sender called “Pomona Plates.” Plates, my ass. This is a sex doll box if I ever saw one.
But there’s a feeling of disappointment in my belly as I look over the huge box. Brad seemed to really enjoy my body last night, so why does he need another doll? Is his fetish that powerful? Or did he order this doll before we started our game? All the same, I really have no right to feel slighted, or to expect that he’d suddenly stop with his particular habit. There is absolutely nothing between me and Brad apart from this weird, unspoken situation, which has yet to be resolved.
Sighing, I open the front door and lug the box inside, setting it in the hallway so that no one trips over it. I don’t know how soon Brad will be back from wherever he is, but I know I can’t have this conversation with him on an empty stomach. Ignoring the box for a moment, I trudge into the kitchen and open the fridge. Inside, to my delight, is some leftover pizza. Yum. Cold pizza is one of my favorite dishes ever. There’s something about the congealed cheese that always makes me so happy.
I sit on a bar stool by the sleek kitchen island munching my pizza, I can’t help but give the sex doll box some side-eye, like she’s a real person. “You idiot,” I chide myself. “Stop feeling jealous about a doll.” But I’m growing more curious. What does this girl look like? Is she anything like me? Blonde, curvy, and blue-eyed, like some of the others? I can’t help myself, and soon I’ve abandoned my pizza and am lurking over the box, trying to see if there’s a way to look inside without ruining the wrapping. I wouldn’t want Brad to know how curious I am about his new toy. No… that would be humiliating, and I’ve embarrassed myself enough already as it is.
But looking at the box, it’s clear there’s absolutely no way of peeking in because it’s sealed shut with plenty of sturdy packing tape. Of course it is. I would need a box cutter to open this thing, but then, I won’t be able to reseal it and pretend like nothing happened.
But am I willing to risk it? A few days ago I would have said no. But that was a few days ago, and back then, I was a different woman. Now, I’m the new Chrissy, and I’m a sassy girl who’s boldly substituted myself for a doll not once, but twice. Clearly, I’m discovering parts of myself that were previously buried in the sand. So yes, maybe I could do it. Maybe I should. Besides, what if I opened the box anddidn’thide my actions? What if I totally own the decision, and use it as a segue to start my conversation with Brad?
Suddenly deciding this is a good plan, I rush back into the kitchen and rifle through the drawers. Somewhere here, there has to be a box cutter. I could use a regular kitchen knife, of course, but if I want my plan to work, I need to open the box as precisely as possible. The third drawer I look in contains some random kitchen utensils like lighters, grilling skewers, and yes, box cutters. Bingo! I grab one before rushing into the hallway, excited to tear open the package and see what the doll looks like. Then I’ll put my plan in motion.
I lay the box down lengthwise on the floor, cut carefully along the cardboard edges, and open the cardboard to find myself looking straight down into the life-like features of a blonde, blue-eyed sex doll. But my breath stops in my throat as my eyes travel down the doll’s body because this doll is different from the others I’ve seen in Brad’s closet. All the previous girls had bodies like Victoria’s Angels, meaning curvy but still fit. They look like they go to the gym.
But this particular doll is different. She’s plus-size with huge, pink-nippled breasts, wide hips, milky thighs, and a soft, silicone belly. Even her face is a little rounder, and her lips a bit more plush. Plus, judging from the express packing tape, Brad likely ordered this doll after our first time together.
I can’t help but feel gratified because maybe my mom’s ex liked my curves so much that he wants to fuck a doll that looks like me. Oooh, I might have inspired him. But if he likes my body so much, why wouldn’t he just fuckme? I’m right here, a real-life woman who wants him so badly she’s trying to pass herself off as a sex doll just to get his attention. Surely, that’s a turn-on for a guy? Or is it too over the top? Has he since decided he’s done playing this game and wants to go back to his playmate collection?
Wow, this is confusing, and I’m going in circles. Clearly, I need to speak to him about this. And I’m going to do it in a sexy, sassy, daring way. I appraise the curvy sex doll’s body and note that she’s wearing a skimpy little lingerie outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination. The bralette she has on is nothing but some purple spandex strips stretched over her breasts, with holes to leave the nipples exposed, and the bottom has identical purple spandex just covering the tiny, shaved pussy, with straps reaching up high onto her wide hips. Perfect. I’ve just ordered a bunch of things that look like this, and now they’re about to come in handy.
I rush upstairs to my room and spread the various skanky lingerie items out on my bed. Looking over them, I choose a sky-blue number to match my eyes. It’s an open cup lace teddy, with matching little blue stickers for my nipples, and a pair of blue fuck-me pumps. My hands shake slightly with excitement as I put the kinky outfit on, and then appraise my reflection in the full-length mirror behind my door. I look exactly like a sex doll, with my pouting pink lips and lush brown tresses. I’m ready.
Then, I go back downstairs, careful now because of the stiletto heels, and click-clack across the hallway’s marble floor towards the box. I have to act quickly now because my plan will lose its effect if Brad comes in to find me in the middle of preparing my surprise. It won’t be a sexy, sassy, daring reveal anymore, but rather an awkward apology, and that’s no way to start off the conversation I want to have with him.
Lifting the sex doll out of the box, I stagger a bit. Dang, this girl is heavy! The manufacturers are certainly dedicated to authenticity. Struggling, I haul the doll out, drag her across the hallway, open the hallway cupboard, and push her inside. Next, slightly out of breath, I move the now empty box to a place in the hallway next to the door, and then climb into the box and lie down inside. It’s a perfect fit. Reaching out, I’m able to pull the cover back over myself, and close the box, although it’s hard to reseal from the inside. I have to pull the edge of the cardboard inside with my fingernails, then gently push it back up until the edges align. Obviously, it’s imperfect and anyone can tell that the box was previously opened. But it’s the best I can do, and I lie back to wait.
It's surprisingly comfortable inside, actually, and as I breathe in deeply, I’m grateful that I napped already today. Because if I hadn’t, with how tired I’ve been lately, I would surely be falling asleep right now. And I don’t want to because I need to be completely alert when Brad walks through the door, sees the box, and opens it to find me inside. What a shock he’ll get! It’s just like Cleopatra surprising Julius Caesar when she rolled out of a carpet.
But hopefully, Brad will find it hot too because this time, there will be no pretending that I’m a sex doll. My face will be visible, and I’ll be fully awake and articulate, forcing us to address this unspoken game we’ve been playing.
Clearly, things could go badly. He might hate my guts and refuse to talk. But in my heart of hearts, I know I’m hoping for the best. I’m hoping that Brad finds me so alluring that none of my charades will matter to him and he’ll want to be with me. And who knows? Perhaps our conversation will lead to a future for us.Something real.
9
Brad
Today has been a complete shitshow. After an extensive round of meetings with the board of Timo, I drive home and pull up outside the house. Exhausted, I loosen my tie and unbutton the top button of my shirt as I walk up the steps and onto the stoop. Then, I pause, craning my head to look around. What the fuck? Where’s the box? I clearly saw the Amazon guy deliver it earlier today via the security camera app on my phone, so I know it’s here somewhere. But what the fuck? Have neighborhood thieves taken it?
In a dark mood, I push open the front door, ready to tear the Amazon rep a new one. But then, as I step into the hallway, I see the box lying lengthwise up against the foot of the stairs, pushed out of the way. Chrissy must have dragged this thing inside, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Just as well. I hope she stays away until I figure out what to do with this thing because it’s my latest purchase – a special full-figured doll with extra-large breasts and a big butt ripe for spanking.
Of course, technically I don’t need the doll right now. I have Chrissy, even if we haven’t acknowledged the dirty game we’re playing. What the hell is she thinking? How long does she want to keep going? If she still wants to continue, I’m up for it. One glimpse of her pink curves on my bed sheets, her tight little pussy and ass offered up to me, is all it takes. I’ll take her deep and hard, just the way she seems to like it. Even if, after the moment of lust has passed, I’ll be filled with doubt again.
But who knows what the teenage girl is thinking? I guess this new doll is a back-up of sorts, in case Chrissy no longer wants to play. Because now, I know I need a special type of woman: a female with a soft, full body, and enormous, heavy tits. I need thick thighs, as well as wide hips and a jiggling ass. My throat goes dry at the thought of taking this purchase upstairs and releasing my lust on her curves. No consequences. No hassle. Just three holes, ready to be trashed any way I please.
But as I bend down to lift the box, I see the flap’s loose. What the fuck? Did Chrissy open it already? Or was it the delivery guy? But when I pull the flap away, who do I see but Chrissy’s beautiful upturned face looking back at me. Her sky blue eyes are wide with anticipation, while her full lips curl into a sassy, playful grin.
“What the fuck,” I growl, stepping back. Chrissy sits up in the box.
“Surprise!” she sings, blowing a kiss at me. I can only stare. My heart beats wildly in my chest as I try to make sense of the woman before me. Is she insane? I might have expected her to carry on the game by getting into my bed again and pretending to be a sex doll. Maybe even some flirtatious behavior if our paths crossed during our daily lives.
But dressing up like a sex doll and getting into a delivery box, for me to discover? She’s totally off the reservation at this point. Rage boils in my veins while my cock hardens inside my suit pants. Fuck. Why is she doing this to me? She must know how badly I want her. There’s no way she could have believed I didn’t know it was her instead of the doll, both times that it happened. So the fact that I fucked her anyway must be an obvious sign of how irresistible her offer was. Is she tormenting me?
Meanwhile, Chrissy seems to be playing this game for maximum effect. The sassy blonde gets up out of the box and my jaw drops onto the floor because fuck, she’s hot. The lace of the teddy leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, her enormous tits barely held in place by open cups, the little matching stickers over her nipples a joke. Her shaved pussy is only barely covered by the crotch, the material rising up high over her wide hips. Fuck, the material’s so thin that I can literally make out the groove of her pussy lips, and the outline of that bulging clit. Fuck fuck fuck! My cock throbs and grows uncomfortably in length down the leg of my boxers and out into the material of my trousers.
“What do you think, Brad?” Chrissy coos, her doe eyes blinking up at me. “Do you like what you see?” she asks, doing a tiny twirl that makes her breasts jiggle. My mouth goes dry, and I swallow hard. My shaft is like iron now, and it’s all her fault.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I growl through a clenched jaw. I know the electric blue of my eyes is flashing angrily, but I can’t help it. Chrissy’s making me feel like an out-of-control teenager, and I don’t like feeling out of control. “What did you do with the doll?” I rasp.
