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If Only, If OnlyAnother night, another wasted load of sperm, I thought to myself. This is bullshit. I shut my laptop off and switched on the television, finding a movie on TV about these two teens who create the perfect woman from scratch. Lucky bastards. The woman was so sexy and had a sultry English accent. I think, at one time too, she was also married to Steven Seagal, who could probably crush my nuts into oblivion if he wanted to and leave no trace of his existence behind. “So what would you little maniacs like to do first?” She seemed to whisper in her English accent.You, of course, duh. I felt my dick go solid, standing ramrod-straight and harder than blue steel. The corny new wave music soundtrack was somewhat catchy along with a semi-popular new wave band doing the theme. All throughout the film was this insanely beautiful English woman and the teens didn’t do anything about it. I quickly recognized one of them from another film by the same director, that I’d seen once, and that was still popular, even today, and one guy who played one of the bullies as someone who’d later become Iron Man. What a dick! I chuckled to myself. I wish I could have a woman like her, though. I wouldn’t have to spend most of my time chasing down something that might never be; The things I’d do with her and she with me. Man! I wish I could have a woman like her! If only for a day, at least… The film ended and I looked at the clock on my bedside reading half past 1:00. It was Friday night/early Saturday morning; I didn’t have anything going on, but I still didn’t care to wake up at noon. I resigned myself to sleep, secretly wishing on the inside, but losing hope quickly. Nah, it’ll never happen.As I woke up the next morning, I felt someone shake me on the shoulder lightly. Five more minutes, Casey. It wasn’t until then that I remembered that Casey, my sister, was on a business trip in Colorado for a week, and opened my eyes to batman escort find myself looking at a woman with eyes green as emeralds looking back at me. I jumped slightly out of fright that there was a strange woman in my house and she jumped back a little at hearing me gasp. “Oh, I’m sorry, lad. Have I startled you?” She whispered in a breathy Irish brogue. I was speechless for a second. Here was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, standing by my bed: she had eyes green as emeralds, had blazing red hair down to her bosom and spoke with an Irish accent. “What…? Who are you? How did you get into my house?”“I—I don’t know, on the first two counts, lad. I was hoping you could tell me; after all, you created me.”Wait! I did what? I don’t remember…“Well, don’t you remember? You wished for a woman like me, and here I am. Only thing I don’t know, though, is my name.”“Umm…” I couldn’t speak for a second with one head trying to think and process all this at a million thoughts a minute. She was breathtakingly beautiful and sexy with her emerald-green eyes and blazing red hair that flowed down to her breasts, perfectly accentuated and only covered by a sheer white nightgown.“Well?”“I’m thinking, please. Just let me wake me up a little bit more—” I swung an arm around in an effort to wake it up and accidentally sent a glass full’s of water forward onto the front of her nightgown, causing her to step back slightly. “Shit! I’m so sorry.”“I suppose it’s alright, lad. It was an honest mistake.” I was quite surprised; She wasn’t mad or anything.“You sure?”“Yes, I’m sure. I-Is there a shower around here, though?” I didn’t hear the last part of the question as I was too busy staring at her nipples, now harder than gemstones, poking through the fabric of the front of her nightgown along with the outline of her breasts heaving and falling as she spoke and breathed. “This is starting bingöl escort to feel a tad uncomfortable now and damp.”“I-I’m sorry. I’m still trying to wake up; Could you repeat the question?” Better to feign still waking up than a belt on the gob for staring. I had no problem believing that the rug matched the d****s, if she had one.“Shower?”No, thanks. I’m fine. But I’ll join you in a few if you really want me to. “Sure, sure. It’s right through here.” I said, opening a door in the bedroom that led to the bathroom for my room. Minutes passed and I felt the morning wood extend slightly in length. “Excuse me, lad.” She said, poking her head through the open doorway. “You wouldn’t happen to have a pair of jeans and a t-shirt I could borrow, would you?”“Sure, sure.” I tossed her a fresh pair of blue jeans and one of my shirts. “Thank you, lad.” She disappeared again for a little while and I heard the shower running. I wonder… I opened the bathroom door after finding unlocked and slipped in noiselessly. Hey, my house, my bathroom. Before I could get another word out, I became transfixed at the vision in front of me and watched her begin to soap up those luscious breasts and saw that perfectly-rounded ass bob up and down as she began to wash her hair. Her back was to me and I was going unnoticed this entire time, but it almost seemed like she was putting on a show for me, and that made all the more excited. She moaned and cooed a little as she began to touch and pull her nipples lightly and brushed her pussy gently with the other hand. My morning wood had long since abated, but I felt myself go hard again seeing her freckled skin, What I wouldn’t give…if only, if only.“Is someone there?” The entire bathroom was enshrouded in steam, but I decided not to push my luck and slipped out the bathroom door after she had turned away, closing it gently behind me, waiting outside the door bitlis escort in my room until I heard the shower shut off and walked away, nonchalant and pretending to look at the plants in the window. “How do I look?” she said, opening the door. If my life were a Tex Avery cartoon, my eyes would be popping out of my skull right now, accompanied with an old-time * awoogah! * sound and wolf-whistles. I had given her my tightest t-shirt and the words “Hard Rock” in “Hard Rock Cafe” were stretched out with tears where you could see parts of her cleavage with the blue jeans she wore that straining to hold on. “I take it you like it?” she said, interrupting my thoughts.Honey, I not only like it; I LOVE IT! “I dunno. Let me see the back.”“Mmm…Cheeky bugger, aren’t you? OK, if you insist.”Oh, yes, quite so! I should get to look at my creation all around! I wasn’t disappointed, either, as her ass strained against the jeans perfectly that were crying “uncle”. “Oh, brav-oh.” I said with a slow clap of applause. “Thank you, lad. Do you have any tea or coffee?”“Mmm…only Dunkin’ Donuts and that’s in the coffeemaker.”“Dunkin’…Donuts?”We passed into the kitchen via the living room and I spied the trash needing to be taken out. “Not exactly the tidiest person, are you, lad?” She said with a slight smile.I started the coffeemaker and went to grab a piece of bread for toast and pushed the lever down. While I was waiting, I went over by the kitchen table and kissed her on the lips. “Mmm, now that’s quite the way to say ‘top o’ the morning to ya’, lad.” I smelled something burning and saw my toast pop up. Shit! Casey, you were supposed to call the repairman and have him fix this, not fuck him and leave me with a burnt piece of toast! “Something wrong?”“No, no…” I opened the fridge door and saw a fresh stick of butter in a golden package. At least you’re good for something, Casey. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine…Kerry.”“Mmm, finally decided on a name, have we?” Kerry said, coming over and French-klssing me. Mmm…yes. Kerry…Gould? “Mmm, Kerry…Gould?” I said, breaking the kiss. “Kerry Gould? I quite like that name. What made you think of that?” Eh, I needed a little…buttering up.–End of Part 1–
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