Misery loves Company – A Love Story

I first saw her reflection in the shop window of that absurd little doll store.
The one on 5th and Main?

Tragically gorgeous in that B Movie kind of way,
I couldn’t take my eyes from her curves and edges.
The porcelain perfection of her complexion and those lips.
full and pouty – red in that almost garish porn star way.
But on her it was fresh cherries from the tree and
I was willing to bet that they tasted as good

And there I stood,
stunned into silence with my cock at full mast and
holding a half-naked children’s toy in my hand.
It felt like I was smiling but likely I was leering
and be goddamned if she didn’t return my lustful stare,
flicking her tongue out like some living thing
to taste the right of the lollipop she’d been playing with
before pushing it slowly between her wet looking lips.
She never dropped her eyes once.

I thought I had died, just then when she smiled at me and
called me forward with one black tipped finger.
And I came, then went to her with burning cheeks and
the front of my jeans beginning to show a dark spot.
I wanted to run but she put her hand over it
and put her mouth on mine.
I was sure I was in Hell but man it felt like Heaven.

When the shopkeeper cleared his throat,
she stopped licking my teeth to look at him,
with her hand squeezing my tortured dick.
Heaven.

She nodded and released me, whispering in my ear,
“come see me if you want company.”
Hell.

The man snickered and finally guffawed before
staring me soberly in the eyes and shaking his head.
“Take an old man’s advice,” he said,
lighting his match with a worn fingernail and holding it to his home rolled cigarette.
“She loves company. Don’t be her next conquest.”
I handed him the doll I’d ceased fondling
while embarrassingly thanking him for his sage advice and his time.
Turning to leave, I saw the most amazing thing in a small room off to the side.

Full sized dolls, dressed in 50’s clothing and
so realistic I laughed in spite of myself.
The shopkeeper chortled grimly, “remember what I said.”

I didn’t listen, of course.
I followed her home in my old green pickup
and watched her struggle with her playthings,
cursing and spitting vile and deviant admonishment.

It shocked me, intrigued me
so I jumped out of my truck and ran to her rescue
like some brain-dead Lancelot.
She smiled and kissed me full on my mouth and
pressed her firm breasts to my chest.
But all the while, I could hear the shopkeeper’s raspy words in my ears.

I wondered about how much company she kept.
I wondered what her name was.
I wondered how the old man knew.
All this as I stepped through her front door
That was forever ago, just before I discovered that I loved her.
My Captor, my Daemon. My wife.
And my questions were eventually answered in
far more detail than I care to remember.

Mustn’t frown!
She wants smiling happy people.

My father-in-law, you have already met, albeit briefly.
You really don’t want to make his acquaintance or hers,
because it’s like Pops, the Shopkeeper says, my wife,
Misery?

She loves company.

©MelanieMcCurdie2017

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