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Who Needs a Man

...when you have a Mannequin
Leila was locking up her shop late one night. Her shop, she savoured the thought in her mind, remembering all the sacrifice and hard work it had taken to start it up. Despite all that, her shop was her own. A small piece of her soul had been placed in the little boutique on the corner of the usually bustling street of Dalkey. She looks past the mannequins on display and squints out into the darkness, then shakes her head at herself. It’s 2am, Leila, she chided herself. Who do you think is going to be out there?

Suddenly, impulse struck her. She is alone here, on a deserted street, late at night. No one is out there, so why don’t I just… As Leila’s hand slips under her skirt to press against her soft, lace panties, she groans. It seems like I've sacrificed a lot more than I thought , Leila ponders, and she recounts the many men that she turned down so that she could focus on her shop. The subconscious twitch of her finger against her clitoris pulls her out of her thoughts and demands attention.

Leila pulls her hand away, panting already, and moves toward the light switch, dimming the light for a little ambiance and slowly starts removing her clothes. She stands naked in the middle of her shop and grins sheepishly, feeling like a teenager at home alone. Once again, she moves her fingers down to her clitoris, though this time her touch is unhindered by the lace material of her lingerie. She rubs herself slowly, luxuriating in the sensations rippling through her body. When was the last time I did something for myself?she sighed.

She presses herself against a wall in the window display and slides down so that her buttocks touch the hardwood floor. Without her fingers leaving her clitoris, she spreads her legs wide and cries out as the previous tweak turns into an intensified jolt. She is so wet, now, that she is worried about leaving a mark on the floor. So what if I do, she thought defiantly, and continued to rub herself. Her two fingers pressing down harder, eliciting another cry from her lips. Her eyes become glazed and her vision starts blurring. Oh wow, she muses. That didn't take long, and she starts letting go of the tension and submits her body to the glorious orgasm that is begging to be released.

Her eyes widen slightly and suddenly her body freezes in fear. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the shape of a man. There’s someone here! She turns her head around cautiously, trying to make out the presence of her onlooker and finds herself looking at the mannequin in the window display instead. Leila laughs at herself and relaxes again, her clitoris throbbing as a gentle reminder that her orgasm was cut short.

Hold on, Leila thinks to herself, and focuses on the mannequin. She remembers buying it before her boutique had started. She was trying to save money and a local adult store was closing down. They offered to sell her the mannequin at a bargain price, and Leila couldn't believe her luck. The male mannequin she bought stood with his feet apart, arms akimbo and a proud protruding member declaring, strongly, that although he wasn't living, he was still a male. Leila remembers having to twist that member around so that she could dress him and display him, without adding a large bulge to the clothing. Leila giggles at the memory. I probably would have had a lot more customers if I had left him with his arousal, she thought.

Her blood was pumping so hard that she could hear the beat of it in her ears and she smiles at the direction of her thoughts as she focuses on the mannequin. Why not? Who is going to see me? she thought, and quickly strips the mannequin of his clothes, moving him against the wall that she had just leaned against.

Her hand moves down the sleek, plastic surface of the mannequin’s chest and down his toned torso, to his hips. She slips her hand between his legs and gives him a small twist so that instead of facing downward, his member stands erect. She smirks at a thought, if only real men could become as erect with a simple twist. Slowly, she rubs her hand up and down her very wet slit, feeling her hand become coated with her moisture.

She pulls her hand away and moves it to the plastic erection before her, rubbing it up and down slowly, making sure that it becomes properly coated with her lubrication. She is surprised at how slippery the strong shaft becomes under her wet touch.

Leila bites down on her bottom lip and rests her hands on the mannequin’s shoulders, using them as a grip and to balance herself as she stretches onto her tiptoes and presses her hips against the mannequin’s hips. She gasps as she feels the plastic head of the mannequin’s arousal press against her and she slowly, slowly lowers herself down onto it, feeling the curved shaft slide into her. She feels her inner walls tighten around the hard shaft and moans loudly, throwing her head back and tilting her hips so that she could deepen the penetration.

Her fingernails try digging into the mannequin’s shoulders but only scrape against plastic. She finds herself wishing that she had warm skin to grab onto, until she starts thrusting her hips against the large erection and the thought left her mind instantly. Leila continues to thrust and bounce herself on the mannequin, crying out with every plunge of the plastic shaft inside her.

She feels herself grow hotter, tighter, and feels her fluids flowing out of her, coating the shaft of the mannequin and allowing her to slip more easily up and down. Leila starts gyrating her hips faster now, almost in a frenzy, crying out and throwing her head back as she gives herself what her body has been craving.

Leila drops one of her hands to her hips and presses her two fingers to her clitoris while furiously riding the mannequin’s manhood and she screams as her body spasms in response to the overwhelming sensation that claims her. She orgasms and it feels as if every sense has been dulled except for the feeling of her inner walls tightening around the mannequin’s shaft. Oh, yes! she thinks, and slowly moves away from the mannequin. Leila’s legs are quite weak and she feels unsteady, so she sits down on the hardwood floor, dripping, and sighs contentedly, her breathing deep and ragged.

Looking around her, she smiles to herself, Now I've put more than just my soul into this shop.

She stands up on feeble legs and dresses herself and the mannequin roughly before turning the light off and locking her shop behind her. Leila leaves the shop and makes the short, shaky walk back home, glowing with the after effects of her long overdue orgasm

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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