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rick ilsa
Rick & Ilsa
by Howitzer
 
© 2007 - Howitzer - Used by permission
Storycodes: MF; lovedoll; latex; cons; X
de_flag fr_flag fr_flag jpn
Rick & Ilsa by Howitzer MF; lovedoll; latex; cons; X

Ilsa had gotten into one of those cleaning moods again. She'd finished working on the Greenstreet contract provisions and amendments early, emailed them back to the office, collected a congratulatory note from her manager (who had been sitting in the electronic mailbox again...), and knocked off early. Since she had a nice little bonus coming from the company, and a few hours until Rick got home, she decided to ready the apartment for a little celebration. Most of the apartment was already nice and clean, really; while Rick was no neat freak, he did help around the house fairly often for a guy. In fact, Ilsa reflected, Rick had always been a stand-up guy, and not just in bed! So mostly her cleaning the already-clean apartment just represented her way of getting into a "domestic" mood, she supposed. Anyway, it took much less time than she expected. She still had plenty of time to order dinner from the gourmet deli. Ilse had many talents, none of which included cooking. Corporate law, computers, antique appreciation, pottery, taking care of fish, but not cooking. Let Laszlo's provide the filet mignon with mushroom sauce, potatoes with chives, and buttered green beans almondine; she would supply the candlelight, the romance, and dessert...

But it was too early to even light the candles or to slip into that slinky little black dress and the almost nonexistent silk cami and tap pant. And she still felt restless. No WAY was she going to go back into her work directory; she wanted her hands nice and nimble for later! She cracked her knuckles as she thought about that... and decided how she could pass the time. She'd clean his den! Hmmm... he really had this "Beauty and the Beast" thing about that room. Ilsa understood his need for privacy, but as long as she didn't touch anything, as long as not a wrinkle was out of place, a little dusting and vacuuming couldn't hurt. Besides, she wouldn't even look at anything, Ilsa promised herself.

To her credit, the dusting and vacuuming lasted about ten minutes; her promise nearly half a minute longer. She carefully memorized the "landmarks" of the room, figuring that if she oriented off those, and only peeked at a few things at a time, she could replace everything, with nobody the wiser. If he did spot something out of place, she could simply deny everything. In fact, she would have to do that anyway! She felt naughty all of a sudden, and decided that she rather liked it! This was the feeling she had been looking for...

Ilsa couldn't quit blushing when she started peeking through Rick's carefully hidden collection of erotic books and magazines. Her hands shook as she carefully paged through them, one at a time, and replaced them. She looked up at the oaken clock on his wall and realized she only had about an hour left to finish getting ready. Let's see, that made twenty minutes to lose the sweats and shower, ten minutes for her evening (and night) wear, a few seconds to light the fires (four candles, the fireplace, and Rick's libido when he got home!) She considered herself in the mirror for a second: Not bad as-is; her strawberry blonde hair still looked fairly nice from when she had had it done two days ago. The eyes? According to Rick, she didn't even need to worry. She had always figured that green didn't go with her red hair, but Rick constantly reminded her that he disagreed. She _liked_ it when he disagreed with her that way...!

But the sweats had to go. Grey, shapeless, and very unflattering. It hid everything, her legs, her hips, Rick's favorite bottom in the world (she trusted him very much on this opinion!), her slim waist, and her nicely shaped round breasts. Actually, she _could_ see her nipples; Ilsa realized that she was a turn-on even in sweats! An idea blazed into her mind, bright as an Olympic torch: she had several pairs of sweats just like these. She'd throw those on over her real clothes for the evening, let Rick give her the "Honey, I'm home" kiss, and then walk right on by and put down his stuff. When he walked into the kitchen and saw nothing but candlelight, flowers and food, she'd let him stare at it for a second, quietly and quickly peeling off the sweats behind him before he turned around. And when he DID...!

Quickly and expertly, she put away Rick's naughty magazines and other stuff, filing away some of the hotter images in the back of her mind (for later!). As she put the last one back on its shelf at the bottom of the bookcase, the cabinet next to it fell open.

There sat an uninflated blow-up doll, in its box.

Ilsa blinked, twice. Looked away. No, it was still an inflatable doll. The least little part of her mind relaxed that at least it was a woman. But still, the thought of it...! She felt an entirely different kind of blush coming on. I can't believe he'd ever buy such a thing, that he'd ever WANT this, she thought. Where on Earth did he GET it?! Well, she'd crossed into an area she'd never intended to find, and the only way out was through it. Ilsa had violated Rick's privacy, and now she realized why he treasured it so. Idly she wondered why she had never heard him with the thing. She guessed that either he had been very quiet or that the room was fairly soundproof. He had been screwing this... this... this... THING right behind her back! Ilsa knew that she wasn't entirely in the right in this now, but that didn't excuse Rick's...well, his cheating on her!

I guess now we both owe each other an apology, Ilsa thought ruefully. Well, the only way to deal with this was to confront him with the truth... fully inflated and undeniable. Suddenly she smiled wryly. Maybe she could salvage this evening after all... Nervously, her hands shaking more than ever, she opened the case and pulled the plastic doll out of its shelter. Horrid looking little thing, really. She found its nozzle, or valve, or whatever, and began to blow it up. About a minute later, out of breath, she sat dumbfounded, looking at a crude replica of herself. The hair, while rather phony, had a color that looked a little like her own in this light...both above and below. He must have picked it out specially, she groused. The breasts were a bit larger, but the little vinyl vixen's derriere couldn't even compare to hers, much less the legs! For what Rick used it for, Ilsa guessed, it didn't need to walk or run anywhere. Of course, the valve on the back had to ruin the mood a little, but she wondered about the open mouth! It looked repulsive, but at the same time... well, at least he had cleaned it before putting it away.

Rick had finished a grueling day at the office; the computers had gone out twice while he was finishing the new budget. His religious habit of backing up all his files while working had saved him both times, but he still finished right before five and just caught the train to the park'n'ride. Soon he would be home with Ilsa, so he could relax and unwind. Who knew? Maybe she'd be in a good mood, he thought as he unlocked the door, and give him a nice back rub, followed by...well, whatever came naturally...

Ilsa heard the sound of a key in a lock through the open den door. _Rick!_ she thought. Well, it's now or never...oh, I'm still wearing the damn sweats... Thinking quickly, she carried her would-be twin through the den door carefully, and then grabbed a blunt knitting needle from her kit under the coffee table.

Rick strode in and shouted, "Ilsa, I'm h... what the HELL?"

Ilsa put on her meanest face and snarled, "Just you stay your distance, or your latex lady friend gets it. Close the door." Dumbfounded, Rick complied.

"You were in the den! But I thought we agreed..."

"I hold all the cards here, loverboy. You've got some explaining to do."

Rick started toward Ilsa, stammering, "But, lover, this...this isn't what it..."

"That's close enough. One more step, and your toy gets a whole new opening."

"Honey," Rick pleaded, "please let me explain. It was a whim. My friends got it for our two-year anniversary back in May. You remember? The night Sam brought me home?"

Ilsa thought back. She did remember. It had been raining, and Rick had gotten out of the car, laughing like an idiot, while he and Sam had said goodnight. She recalled having thought she had seen him dropping something through the basement window...something like a box..."

Rick must have read her mind. "You must have seen me drop the box with the doll in it. When I sobered up the next morning, I brought the thing in, dried the box off, and hid it in the cabinet. The rest you apparently know already." He looked at her accusingly.

"You mean you didn't..."

"No. Well, I was curious, I'll admit that, but I just wanted to get up the nerve to ask you if you minded."

"Rick...I..." Rick had seen Ilsa quiet, but rarely (if ever) at a real loss for words.

"Well, it's all out in the open now," Rick concluded. "I'll forgive you... if you'll forgive me."

"Oh, of course I do, Rick," gushed Ilsa. She stepped towards him. "I could never let something like--"

Before she could finish either her sentence or her steps, she tripped on that stupid loose rug in the living room. Down she went, along with Rick's inflatable doll...and the knitting needle...

With a *Poooooff* sound, Ilsa's knitting needle penetrated the doll's slightly rounded buttock. The *hissss* of the air escaping from the grievous wound filled the room, hanging heavily in the air. Ilsa, shaken but otherwise unharmed, rolled uselessly off the punctured love toy, trying not to do anymore damage. "Oh, Rick, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pop it. I'm so sorry, I just wanted to tease you..." She looked up at him pleadingly.

Rick knelt and put an arm around her. "Never mind that, it's just a piece of plastic. Are you all right?" When she nodded, he gently helped her up and gave her a hug. "I love you more than any little plaything."

"Can you forgive me, Rick?"

Of course, she had to ask that while she was in his arms, pressed against him, her firm curves pushing softly against his form. He could feel himself hardening as she pressed against him. "Of course, lover, of course."

There was no candlelight dinner that night; their mixed emotions had killed the mood, and she had never ordered the food, so she never even brought the plan up. Rick and Ilsa spent a couple of hours apart, she in the living room doing crossword puzzles (she just didn't feel like knitting), and he in his den, trying not to investigate what else she'd gotten into. Oddly, they got ready and went to bed early. They exchanged sweet nothings for a little while, and surprisingly, made love. But they both sensed that it was more out of habit than mere affection. Afterward, they hugged, kissed and slept apart, fitfully.

After a week of much the same routine, Ilsa finally decided to take action. Somehow, she had to _show_ Rick that she was sorry. Not for the doll; she knew he still resented her violation of his trust. Mind you, she thought, he never would have kept that doll if he hadn't planned on doing something with it.

The next night, she sat him down on the couch when he came home. "Love, I just want to tell you that I'm sorry I broke our agreement. I was just feeling kind of...I don't know..."

Rick looked as though he had finally begun to understand. "Mischievous?" he ventured.

"That'll do," she agreed. "I wanted to make that night special, and you know how I get, cleaning everything..."

"...that's already clean?" Finished Rick. He had started finishing her sentences again, Ilsa thought sardonically; that was always a good sign...

"Well, I just wanted to formally apologize for going in there after we had agreed that I wouldn't..."

Rick stopped her, gently putting a hand to her lovely lips. "I forgive you. I've been thinking. We never set aside a private space for you. I mean, this is our home...we picked it out together...furnished it..."

Ilsa gently took his hand away from her lips, kissed it, and held it. "Made love on the floor while we were waiting for the furniture..."

"On the kitchen table right before your parents flew in from Seattle..."

"In the shower...when was the last time?" Ilsa said, with that look in her eyes again.

Rick knew that sparkle and returned it, in hazel instead of green..."Last month, after that awful Arbor Day party..." They both suddenly started laughing. The incident had been funny; they had argued all the way home about Rick's insulting the hostess, Ilsa's dancing with Simon, Rick's driving, Ilsa's lack of map-drawing skill, over who would get into the shower first. At that point they suddenly stared at each other for a second, and decided, peeling off clothes and kissing, that they would save a little water that day.

Back in the present, they had finally quit laughing and relaxed. Rick's arm had naturally found its way around Ilsa's shoulder, and she had never let go of his other hand. She pulled it gently around her waist, and leaned into him. He drew her close, closer, feeling her heat...

"I love you," they finally concluded, in unison. Faults, disagreements, and all, it was simple as that. They kissed, not out of habit, not out of necessity, not to fill their own needs, but just to express affection. Affection and passion. The kiss heated up, and slowly carried them unprotestingly off to the bedroom. Time, space, and all the rest of the universe went away for awhile. Neither Rick nor Ilsa even noticed that they had fallen asleep until the alarm had caught them still in each other's arms. "Oh, it's Saturday!" Ilsa protested. I could have sworn I'd turned off the alarm..."

"You had," replied Rick with a knowing look in his eye. "I thought it would be nice to wake up in your arms more than once today while we had the weekend."

She playfully punched him on the shoulder. "Oh, you," she didn't complain.

They woke up again a little after noon. He made lunch and they spent the afternoon alternating between antique shops and sporting goods stores, just enjoying each other's company, relaxing, laughing, talking. They went out to a good Mexican restaurant just off the shopping district and had broiled spiced shark steak, Rick for the first time. They sat back for a second and just looked into each other's eyes. Finally Ilsa broke the silence. "Honey?"

"Mmm?"

"I just had a...sudden thought. Would you like to go somewhere with me?"

"Well," Rick answered, "we still have to pay the check, and..." She took his hand and laughed for a second.

"Oh, hush," she said. "No, I mean when we're ready to go, you know..."

"Yes."

"Yes, you know, or yes you--"

"Are ready to go wherever you do right now. But DON'T use a homedrawn map!"

They settled the tab, tipped the waiter generously, and got out of there. Her gentle, insistent directions led him to a part of town that he only vaguely recognized; neon lined the streets. "Stop here," she said suddenly, in front of a seedy, but unassuming, video store, "this is the place."

"I don't get it," Rick said, but followed her in.

Passing a small facade of videotape shelves, they entered the main area. While X-rated porn videos abounded on the center shelves, the walls of the store were lined with more rubber products than a tire company. Only a few of them were black.

"Honey?" Rick looked at Ilsa incredulously.

"Don't just stand there, look around!" she laughed. "I certainly intend to."

Rick found himself surprised not only at the incredible variety, but also at the atmosphere. Once they had gotten past the somewhat dimly lit front space, the store actually had an oddly warm, inviting ambience. Even the proprietor, the almost-standard heavy-set middle-aged bearded tough guy, had a benevolent smile on his face. A bit like a benevolent Santa Claus of porn, he decided to himself, smiling. He looked around for Ilsa, and found to his surprise that she had snuck off and struck up a conversation with one of several female employees. They had evidently set a course for the lingerie section. I've got a really GOOD feeling about this, Rick realized.

The storekeeper let Rick watch Ilsa fade off into the distance for a short while. Then he quietly asked, "Somethin' I can help you with, friend?" He had a voice like a diesel engine, but not an unfriendly one.

"Well, I'm not sure. I've apparently been set loose," Rick replied. He kept looking in the same direction, even though Ilsa had disappeared among yards of leather and lace.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, eh?" The storekeeper laughed. "Been together long?"

"Nearly three years."

"I'd say you're a lucky man. I don't see a whole lot of guys being led in here by women that beautiful. Three years?" Rick nodded. The storekeeper shook his head as though puzzled. "I'm Ed. Welcome to my shop. Our job is to make you come again without leaving home."

Rick chuckled. "Looks like you have all the stuff for the job."

"We like to think so." Ed realized that the man was still wondering what had happened to the stunning redhead. "Don't worry about your lady; she's in good hands. Jess hasn't bitten anyone for at least a week." Rick started for a second before realizing that he had been staring. He laughed and relaxed visibly. Ed continued, "So what can we do to you?"

"Um, I guess..." he felt his face flush. Not only was he still a bit embarrassed by his new surroundings, he was beginning to get aroused...AND, somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered what his wife was doing back there. "I guess," he finally finished, "I'm looking for something along the lines of an inflatable woman."

"Huh. Well, you've come to the right place, that's for sure," Ed mused, "but... never mind. Ain't my business. It sure looked like she turned you loose in here like ya said. If she trusts you, that's good enough for me. Now then," he said, stepping out from behind the counter and locking the register, "did you have anything particular in mind?"

"Actually, no," admitted Rick. I didn't even know I'd be here right now."

"You want a little time to look around? Pick one out on your own?"

Rick realized that he had never actually shopped for a sex toy of any kind before, much less an inflatable doll. After all, he'd been stumbling, bumbling drunk when his friends had given him the other one. "I suppose I'm a bit new to all this. You got anything really pretty?"

"Hell, they're all pretty for what they do. On the other hand, considering who you're with, I don't know if we got anything at your standard. But we'll see what we can find." They walked through the dolls section, and Ed explained the features of each of the toys. Rick knew that his face had turned bright red, but the storekeeper either didn't notice, pretended not to, or was used to it. Rick made a point of not looking straight down. "Now this is probably about the best blow-up lady we got," Ed concluded, stopping next to a suspiciously large box on the top shelf, out of both of their reaches. "Wanna see it?"

What the Hell..."Sure," Rick answered, bemused.

Ed took a short hop into the air, basketball-style, and came down with the boxed-up doll and with Rick looking oddly at him. "'Salright, I own the place," he chortled. "So here she is, Big Rhonda the Amazon. Seamless latex, guaranteed to hold over 400 pounds. Big ol' breasts, nice hips, and just about the only doll I've ever seen that has a butt and legs even worth thinking about. She'll even stand up on her own, fully inflated. 'Course, she don't run too fast--" he winked-- "but nobody's complained about that yet. Her eyes and mouth open and close, she's got a full head of long, luscious brown hair, and two very nice hands."

Rick suddenly found himself asking, "What about the, ah, openings?"

"Oh, I think you'll find those where they belong, and nowhere else."

"How much?"

Ed quoted him a fairly high figure, but Rick didn't care. He and Ilsa had never been exactly rich, but each pulled down more than enough for a few expensive toys. He expected Ilsa had started limbering up her credit card, so why not? "I'll TAKE her!" Rick announced, suddenly confident.

"I thought you might," Ed responded. Rick got a chance to check the doll out as Ed checked it for leaks. It? Rick thought. When Ed pumped it up with a small, quiet air compressor, he had to admit it actually looked more than a bit like a she. How about that? Rick mused. Ed let the air back out of Big Rhonda, and carefully folded her back into her box. Ringing up the purchase, he took the opportunity to ask, "Anything else for you tonight?"

"Yes and no," Rick slyly answered, looking around carefully...

In the back of the store, Ilsa marveled at all the different items of lingerie. Some of them looked absolutely scandalous, but, she reflected, of course, that was the idea. Jess showed her around quite knowledgeably, courteously. In fact, Jess was at least as nice as any clerk who had helped her the whole day.

Having virtually picked out a wardrobe worth of sexwear, some demure, some seductive, some both, she leaned forward to Jess and muttered, somewhat selfconsciously, "You've been so helpful already, but I wonder... I'm looking for one or perhaps two more special things."

Jess sensed a challenge. She lived for challenges. "We excel at the special," she confided, her unaccented tone not quite matching the black t-shirt, multiple earrings and piercings, and tight tan leather jeans. "Tell me what you want, and I'll do my best to find it..."

Ilsa surprised herself with her questions, but Jess surprised her again by answering them. Ilsa had everything she needed.

After an eternity, Ilsa finally reappeared with several large, maddeningly opaque bags and packages. "Ready?" she asked Rick cheerfully, as if they'd been out picking up groceries.

"More than ever." Rick replied as their eyes met. Ed could have sworn they floated out of the store together, arm in arm. Another job well done, he thought...

Rick managed to maintain the speed limit all the way home, despite the clear night weather and the smooth roads. He _definitely didn't want to get stopped by a traffic cop with all the stuff they were carrying. Some of it had had to go in the back seat, where he worried that it might be visible to passersby. Not only that, but from what he saw out of the corner of his eye, Ilsa had apparently changed clothes under her coat!

After an eon, thet reached the townhouse driveway, found the parking stall, and began frantically carting their new toys load by load up the short flight of stairs into their home. Finally, Rick slammed the door, and they collapsed, out of breath, laughing gently in each other's arms. "Hmm...That was fun," Rick understated, playing with Ilsa's soft, fine, luscious red hair.

"MMmmmm," she agreed. She took a few seconds to luxuriate in Rick's soft touch. Of course, the best is yet to come."

"Several times, if I have anything to say about it."

They laughed again, and finally stood up amidst the mountain of bedroom gear. "You may or may not have noticed me changing in the car," she finally said.

"I did my best to keep my eyes on the road, love. And I damn near succeeded."

"I'll bet you're wondering what I've got on."

"Definitely."

She showed him. Her long coat fell about her shoulders, revealing a green silk and lace bra that needed an sworn writ to prove that it existed at all. The coat continued to slide down as she sensuously wriggled free of it. The panties matched.

Rick stepped toward her, already aroused. She left her coat behind on the floor as she met him halfway, draped an arm around his neck, and kissed him lightly and just a hair too slowly. She pulled away a bit, one hand lingering to unbutton his shirt. He never missed it. She reached for his pants, but could do any more than unbuckle his belt before he suddenly knelt down before her, kissing her belly button, and heading lower. His hands cupped her tight, round buttocks firmly, gently, caressing them, kneading them. The panties had knotted strings on each side holding them up. Rick put his pioneering merit badge to good use and started licking her, tasting her sweet juices. Neither had ever been this hot.

They would also never recall exactly how they had gotten to the bedroom without going at it right in the front hall. Perhaps they hadn't. Regardless, in just a few minutes, they had unpacked, as it were. Ilsa dimly recalled Rick carrying her across the threshold as though she weighed nothing. She certainly felt so. Still wearing the alleged bra, she sat up and looked at him. "So, I suppose you picked a little something out."

"A big something, actually," Rick smiled. "Would you like to see her?"

"Her?"

Rick brought Big Rhonda the Amazon out, took the doll out of the box. "Her," she agreed.

Rick started to inflate the doll, but Ilsa interrupted him. "I'd like to do the honors. After all, the last time I did it---" Rick let go and just watched, fascinated, as his lover placed those soft lips of hers on Rhonda's valve, and began to fill Rhonda with her breath. She was right, he realized. Last time she had done this, it had ended in disaster. This time would end in sheer pleasure.

With Ilsa's lungs pushing air into Rhonda, the doll slowly took shape, expanding into her proper lush form. Looking a bit lightheaded, she paused. "How much air can one doll need?" She joked. She finished catching her breath, and put her lips to Rhonda's right ear and finished inflating her. The now full-figured figure actually stood a bit taller than Ilsa, and had much larger breasts. Rick looked at Rhonda's rear. For a doll's it was nice, but he found himself happy that he still much preferred Ilsa's.

Ilsa reached out and tucked the valve into the doll's ear and kissed her on the cheek. As she squirted some lubricant into Rhonda's vagina, anus, and mouth, and purred, "All yours, loverboy. And you know, now that I've thought about it, I think I'm going to enjoy watching you have sex with another woman. After all..." She thought for a second. "...I'm still in control. If I decide to rescue you, she's not going to fight back."

"You hope. She's pretty realistic."

"She _does_ have an Achilles Ear. All I have to do is pull the plug, and she'll soften right up. In the meantime, Big Rhonda should make a good little warm-up for your main course." She cupped Rhonda's generous breast in her hand. "Go for it, lover." She moved the doll toward him.

As Rick put his arms around Rhonda's waist, Ilsa leaned close and whispered, lips lingering on the "F" sound, "Fuck her. Fuck her good and hard." She kissed Rick on the cheek, and lay back to watch the fun.

Rick went at Rhonda as a man possessed. His hard manhood slid slowly into his new lover's surprisingly tight vagina, and he started moving in and out. Ilsa's blush renewed itself, and she felt herself get wet again as she watched Rick's and Rhonda's tryst. Her hand moved to her labia as of its own accord, and she started to rub herself. Rick's hands roamed over Rhonda's plush, pumped-up body, grasping and kneading her breasts, and fondling her buttocks. He kissed and licked the toy's nipples and delighted in their realism. He felt a climax coming on. Suddenly Ilsa took a break from her revelry. She grabbed his butt suddenly and leaned over him to whisper, "Come in her, loverboy." Rick didn't think he would ever stop squirting into Rhonda, but finally he ran dry...at least for the present. He kissed the doll, and then pushed her over to kiss Ilsa.

They clinched for a little while, enjoying their warmth. Then Ilsa pushed him off her. "I've got a little surprise for you. It's time I showed you some of my new clothes."

While Rick waited impatiently on the bed with his new, mute lover, his real love readied herself in the bathroom. As Jess had told her, talcum powder helped her into the snug little jumpsuit. She had always considered herself in fairly good shape, but the sheer difficulty of encasing herself in latex surprised her. She stopped several times before finally fastening the enclosures and adjusting herself to fit properly in the suit. She paused to admire herself in the mirror. She still looked naked, or would if she had had black skin. And weighed about twenty pounds less. And had breasts that stuck straight out, daring any man to look at them, grab them, take them in his mouth and suck on them. She jogged three miles a day, but her hindquarters still looked impossibly well-defined. She had never considered herself a narcissist, but she definitely turned herself on.

From the bedroom, Rick suddenly shouted, "Ilsa love, if you don't get out here soon, I'm gonna have to jump Rhonda again...and I'm gonna finish before you get a chance to----" Ilsa had opened the door, a vision in black latex.

"---waaatch..." he trailed off.

Ilsa took a dumbfounded, but already re-aroused, Rick, in her arms, and then took him in her mouth. She licked and sucked him until she was sure he would never get any larger or harder. She wanted him to fill her up, in more ways than one. Finally, he could take it no longer, and grabbed her, pushing her roughly down to the bed. "Wait," she said coyly. "I'm not done surprising you."

Rick had to smile. "You never are, love, you never..." He trailed off again when he saw what looked like a valve sticking out of Ilsa's neck.

She shook her head, tossing her beautiful hair from side to side. She indicated the valve and said,"Well, love, I blew your doll up the last time. This time, it's your turn. I'm your real inflatable doll." He leered at her, and put his mouth to her valve. Cupping one breast, he blew her up. As she expanded, Ilsa felt the pressure build up, first in her hips, then in her chest. The suit had several chambers, all interconnected. Only her waist would not expand. She thought wryly, if only that were true without the suit. He continued to blow her up. Her breasts stood out beautifully; she was bustier than Rhonda now, bustier than she ever had been. Ilsa found her doll suit confining, but surprisingly, she had no trouble breathing. Money well spent. Very well spent, she thought. Her hips had expanded to the point where her legs began to spread a little, involuntarily; she did not resist.

Rick cupped one of her ballooning buttocks in his hand as he continued to inflate her. Rick's lungs are in very good shape, she thought, as she grew more and more voluptuous. Finally, after a little experimental groping and fondling, Rick decided Ilsa had reached the right pressure. His erection ached again as she pulled her to him, her blown-up boobs bumping his bare chest. They kissed deeply, for hours. Rick discovered to his delight that the suit was crotchless, but just barely. The chambers over her inner thighs slightly obscured her womanhood, but he found it anyway, first with a finger, and then with his cock. Ilsa quickly and carefully draped her pumped-up legs over his shoulders as he gently laid her down flat on her back. As he thrust into her, she involuntarily began to buck against him. If anything, he toyed with her breasts and rear more thoroughly than he had Rhonda's. She realized to her amazement that the inflatable suit transmitted an amazing range of feelings from his hands to her skin. She was now his sex doll, but she could still move with him, take him further inside her. She started to moan: "Oh. Oh...Ohhh...."

Rick smiled down at her lustily. "Almost ready, love?"

"Moooooore than ready....Ohhhhhhhh, YESSSSSS! YES! Owhhhhhhhhhhhh! *EEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAA*!" Ilsa squealed, coming almost endlessly. Rick couldn't hold back any longer, and shot so deeply into her that she felt it all throughout her vagina.

He lay down beside her, exhausted, and took her in his arms. He kissed her gently, soulfully, and looked into her eyes. "I love you, doll." Ilsa relaxed into him, more fully sated than she had ever been in quite awhile. She had to look down to convince herself that she was still dressed as a fully inflated sex toy, bulging beautifully in all the right places.

"I love you too, Rick..." she looked ready to drift off to a peaceful slumber.

He let her; her surprise could wait until tomorrow. Both his lovely inflatable women had earned a rest.

 

03.01.07

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