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Patches
Part-1-of-3
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(Found this on the net and thought it was so funny that I couldn’t help stealing it)
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Being single for years now a man gets lonely from time to time and to be honest there is nothing more enchanting than a good lovemaking session with a woman you’re into. Dating sucks. Porn sites are boring. Strip clubs aren't my ‘thing’ and calling up a hooker isn't worth the 250-diamonds they charge for mindless sex.
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One weekend I was checking out the garage sales in my community. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, but it’s a fun way to waste away a morning rummaging through other peoples discarded goodies and once in awhile you find something you like. Well... after about 4-hrs of driving and looking I found her.
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’PATCHES’
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I found her stuffed into an old cardboard box filled with old magazines. When I saw her I felt like Karma found me. My breath was heightened, my palms sweaty... I had to not show my enthusiasm toward this diamond in the rough I found, mainly because the previous owner (a fat bastard who looked like his only exercise was from the fridge to the couch) might try to up the price... if you know what I mean.
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Yea, dickering is a skill few humans can say they've mastered. Myself on the other hand have the poker face down pact. I can instantly turn it on or off depending on the issue at hand and it’s served me well when dealing with people who think there smarter than me. Not that it matters because everyone is smart, just some seemingly more intelligent than others. Enough said.
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I pulled the plastic love doll out of the box after ensuring nobody else was within eyeshot. She was a dream-come-true (sigh....) Her face was half rubbed off, brunette hair matted like an old dog but she looked beautiful. Her mouth open wide and her breasts looked to be around the size of grapefruits (mashed ones of course). She was the perfect woman. I figured that with a Sharpie marker, shampoo and an air compressor she'd be ready to rumble in no time.
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The owner came over once I exposed his ex but all in all he was friendly. I asked the man, “How much?”
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He replied, “$40.”
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My face was expressionless as I began to Jew him down and also because I only had $20 on me. I told him, “Hmmm.... she looks tore up, would you take $15?”
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He pondered a minute looking as if he was going to go for it. I knew he was trying to call my bluff, and then he said, “$20 and I’ll throw in the box of National Geographic mages for FREE.”
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On my way home I was beside myself because of the deal I’d made and felt pretty good about my new girlfriend. I had to contain myself and not chirp the tires on my truck let alone not get a speeding ticket from the cops, but I was so excited you just don't even know....
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Once home I went to the garage and opened the big door and propped it up part ways so that prying neighbors would not see her. The next thing I did was pull out my miniature air pump and plugged it in. The pressure dial is broken and it doesn't actually work as well as it used to, but its usable. I found an adapter and hooked up my girl to it. After about 4-minutes, I noticed that she wasn't holding air. Dammit! The old fool I bought her from screwed me.
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I rooted around in the garage and found a tire repair kit and began patching up the holes in my newfound love, hence the name ‘PATCHES.’ Once again I hooked her up to my rickety old air pump and then went into the house to get a cup of Joe, figuring that it'd take awhile. I sat down and turned on the TV. I must have dozed off or something but I woke up to screams or laughter, I am not sure which and it was coming from outdoors. OMG!! PATCHES!
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Running outside I noticed a crowd gathering on the sidewalk in front of my home and everybody was looking skyward, pointing. Looking up I saw ‘PATCHES’ floating in the air like a Macy's Day Parade Balloon. I had to think quickly.
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I ran into the house and grabbed my shotgun. Loading shells on the go, I shot her down with 3 or 4-quick pumps. WHEW!!! Thank gawd I had a few more tire patches to fix her.
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That afternoon she was totally inflated and after a few swipes of my Sharpie marker and a good cleaning.... she was doable.
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That night I took her to bed, candles around my bedroom, soft love making music in the background, water-soluble lube and us. She was playing hard to get at first or maybe I just filled her with a few more lbs. than needed because every time I went to grab her she bounced. My manhood was growing firm and greedy as I imagined the first time. Mounting her like a stallion I slide my greased pole into her plastic vagina and began working my ‘Magic.’
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It seemed like a lifetime but could have been 3-minutes? She began losing air and I wasn't finished...Pumping faster and more furiously trying to peak before she popped. As she deflated I just grabbed her harder, rolling her up until it looked like I was fucking a bubble!
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The sounds we made were...mmmmm.... different and took awhile to block it out of my feeble mind. Have you ever heard the sound of someone twisting balloons into animals? How about the sound of a fat sweaty man in leather pants? (You get the jist.)
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Anyways, our first time was like nothing I’ve ever known. I was thinking of having her name painted on the back window of my truck, you know that cutesy thing men do for there loved ones...
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’Patches’ and me were made to be.
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To be continued…
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Patches
Part-2-of-3
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You may have seen us driving around town in our truck or maybe you saw us at Starbucks sipping $7 coffee. I am not a jealous man but I’ve noticed people staring everywhere we go… I think they are envious.
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Even though my new girlfriend doesn't talk much she makes up for it by the way she looks at me (ahhh...I’m tearing up). The other day I had an idea so I drew her a bubble bath, set her in the tub and said I’d be back in a short while.
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Heading into town, I first stopped at Wal-Mart, then Target, and finally ended up at Toys-R-Us and since I couldn't find one of those 'pull string talking dolls, I ended up buying a 'see and say toy' (farm animals). That’s all they had in stock.
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At home I got my tools out and disassembled the toy, removing the voice box. ‘PATCHES’ had spent a couple hours enjoying herself in the tub so I plucked her out and dried her off. Pulling the plug, so to speak on her airway… deflating my plastic love muffin.
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It took me an hour and 1/2 to surgically install her new voice box by using superglue and a few more tire patches. I had my mind set on the Barbie voice but settled for the next best thing, farm animals.
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Now fully inflated, my girl could now communicate with me and I could disregard these voices in my head, and to make her talk all I gotta do is 'pull-the-cord’...
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At first I felt elated to be performing the first ever voice box transplant on a plastic love doll, thinking there could be a NOBEL prize for something like that and then thought... No, I better not tell anyone or they'll steal my idea.
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That night we made sweet music together as we so tenderly made love, and after the last blowout I learned to start out slow then work up to a majestic ending. She wore this leopard print thong, no bra, and after fingering her plastic pothole with lube she was ready to rumble.
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I yanked off her panties and pulled her cord, she neighed like horses at first and that turned me on I have to admit.
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Then she snorted like a like a pig (oink, oink, oink) and I said Uhhhhhhh yessss.... that’s what I’m talking bout baby! Suddenly, I was harder than Chinese-math. I mean it.
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Pulling her on top of me, I slid in slow and easy and when I pulled her cord again I swear that I heard a sheep. As I talked sexy to her she talked sexy back, which only enhanced the moment. We made love, then took a smoke break and then went at it again for a couple more hours.
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That girl is a freak of nature and "I’m loving it" (McDonalds terminology).
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Thank goodness for Toys-R-Us and some ingenuity on my part.
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Laugh if you want, I don’t care... At least I have a girlfriend who will do it when… where...and how I want it. We have a good thing going…
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To be continued…
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Patches
PART-3-of-3
Happy go lucky
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I was heading to a job interview in another town and had a crazy idea. Strapping my ‘luvmuffin’ into the passenger seat seemed like a good idea, at the time. Oddly enough it wasn't the smartest thing that I’ve done lately but I must admit that I do enjoy people staring at us.
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We were cursing in the carpool lane doing about 75-mph with the music a little too loud probably but I didn't care. I held onto her plastic hand and kicked it up to 80 on the speedometer while singing that Sammy Hagar song ‘I can't drive 55.’
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I was so engrossed in the music that I didn't notice the red lights flashing behind me. He’d been trying to pull me over for about 4-miles, or so the officer said.
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My first thought was OMFG; it’s going to be a huge fine for driving in the carpool lane.
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Somewhere in between pulling onto the shoulder of the freeway and being asked for my license and registration, ‘Patches’ somehow lost air and since my main concern at the time was a fat ass ticket. I didn't notice that she was deflating, and lying in my lap.
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When the officer approached my window, I heard a chuckle then he went back to his cruiser to check my documents. Minutes later he came back and handed me my license and stuff, still giggling like a 3-year old. I wasn't exactly happy go lucky, but I was ready to sign the ticket that I was about to get and be on my way.
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The officer said and I quote, "Sir...(giggle, giggle) I am not going to cite you for the carpool violation..." There was an eerie silence followed up by more goofy laughter. I am however, going to cite you for IMPERSONATING A BLOW JOB!"
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Imagine the look on my face right about then.
I hope that I can pay it by mail.
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The end…
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