“YEAH, THIS OUGHT TO DO IT," he said, a half-smile under his scraggly beard. He hadn't shaved in a couple days. He shrugged — not like she'd care—and carefully undid the tape holding the box together. He peeled back the plastic inside.

And there she was.

Just as promised, sleek and glossy, vaguely flesh-toned, a smell like a new inner-tube. He was flooded with childhood's sense memory of opening new pool equipment and fought that aside. Nothing like thinking about his mom in a bathing suit to ruin the moment.

He tugged it free from the box, shook her out. The wrinkles fell out, but creases remained. He wondered if those would come out with inflation. Or should he hang her up in the bathroom while he took a shower? Nevermind, he'd worry about that later. He grabbed out his pump, fitted the needle to her valve, and started to work the handle.

Her torso filled first. Then her arms started to twitch, and legs. Both her left limbs were the first to come to life, he noticed. Maybe because the valve was on her left side. He laughed. He watched as her face puffed away from the back of her head, the hair flipping into place, the ridiculously outsized mouth growing in proportion until he started laughing again.

"This is no way to greet you," he said by way of apology, and pressed the valve into place, flush with her skin.

She was light, that was his first thought. Her feet were weighted, but the rest of her floated like she was trying to detach herself from them. He pressed her onto his covers and undid his pants. They hung loose on his hips, and he watched as she did not make a comment about the size of his member, did not ask him where he'd been all night, did not ask him how his day had been, did not tell him about her last conversation with her mother — God! It was almost enough to make him come right then.

He restrained himself, leaned toward her, slid some lotion onto her center. He entered, slow, knees pressing into the edge of the bed, holding her legs as they stuck straight out on either side of his hips. He ground on her, kind of getting into it now. She bobbed, staring at his ceiling, a vacant expression of lust on her made-up face.

He came.

It was all right.

He fell on the bed beside her, and his movement stirred up enough air to shove her right off the bed and onto the floor. She bounced, light as a beach ball, and he smacked his forehead.

There had to be a better way.

He cleaned her up, deflated her. He roamed his house, looking for something, anything, he could use to alter her. Maybe he could add to her — like a pair of padded shorts with a slit cut in, or some wrist weights?
Or — and this could work — or he could fill her with warm water instead of air!


Excited now, he ran for the kitchen, where he had his flavor injection kit. That was fitting, he thought. He slipped the end of it into the nozzle, then turned the hot water on full blast. She began to take shape again, this time with more weight to her. More substance. This was already looking better than it had before, he thought, and turned a critical eye to her progress. Almost done, he thought, and turned her around so her feet were firmly on the floor. Don't want to drop her and have water go gushing all over the place, he thought, and eased the faucet off.

He rolled against the countertop, pulled her in line with his hips, and slid inside. He screamed with pleasure so hard it was painful, moaned as her limbs flailed around him. He went blind, went to his knees, slapped her to his floor without thinking about what he was doing.

He lay on top of her, thrusting harder and harder and harder, until he heard a very bad sound.

Rrrrrrrrip . . . . SPLOOOSH.

His eyes widened. He fell forward into the wet, soaking himself. He looked to the floor, the table, the walls, all covered in plastic-smelling water. He looked into her accusing eyes, stroked her face, and said, "I'm sorry." She didn't reply, just folded in on herself as the last of the water drained out.

He reached for a towel to clean up the worst of it, and wondered what would happen if he filled the next one with pudding.

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