Page 3 of My Date With A Rubber Duckie

She’s got the kind of ass you could bounce a quarter off of, all tight and thick.I couldn’t look away. Not only because I can’t turn my head, but because hot damn, I wanted to touch it, bite it, smack it.

If I was in my human form, I’d be sporting a massive boner right now. The shower curtain is too opaque to see detail, but thin enough to see the shadowed outline of her. And that outline is making my squeaker want to go off without even being touched.

I should really get out of here. But before I can contemplate the distance to the door and how loud it would be if I opened it, she’s shutting off the water.

Shit, she’s gonna step out here all dripping wet and naked. If I shift in order to avoid seeing her, it would just freak her out. But watching… seeing her like this when she doesn’t know… fuck, I’m no better than an obsessive stalker right now.

To my relief, or disappointment—I’m not sure which—she sticks her hand out of the curtain and grabs the towel before stepping out of the steamy shower already wrapped up.

She walks past me into the bedroom, and I can vaguely hear some shuffling around before she comes back into the bathroom dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Nearly every inch of her beautiful skin is covered, and I have the sudden urge to shift and rip it all off her. Yeah, dangerously close to stalker territory here.

She brushes her hair, then braids it down her back before gently brushing her lips along the top of my head in a sweet kiss. “Don’t worry, Duckie, I’ll be back soon. Then we can solve all the problems of my life.”

She bounces out of the room ten times lighter than she was at the toy store. The doorbell rings with their food. Damn, food sounds good. I haven’t eaten all day. Not that I really get hungry in this form, but I still crave food. I hope Perry hasn’t eaten all the leftover pizza in my fridge.

I feel bad about leaving Anita. I don’t know what kind of woman buys a rubber duck and talks to it, but just having me here seemed to make her feel better,and it’s clear she needs that right now.

But I’m not what she thinks. And I can’t stay.

I wait one minute, two, three. The sound of muffled voices and clattering utensils comes from the main living space. This is my chance.

The counter creaks as I shift back to my human form. I quickly hop off, nervous it’ll break. It’s already got a thick crack in it. I’m naked, of course, because clothes don’t shift with object shifters, so I quietly search under the sink for a spare towel. Nothing but a few extra rolls of toilet paper, a can of bug spray, and a bottle of cheap bubble bath.

Hands over my groin, I peek out into the bedroom. If this were a regular heist, I’d have studied the layout and know all the exit routes. But it’s not, and tucked as I was against Anita’s breasts on the way inside, I’m not even sure I’m still on the ground floor. For all I know, her apartment could be five stories up.

I skim the room for something tocover myself with. Her towel is on the bed, still damp from her shower. The thought of wrapping myself in something that so recently touched her wet, naked body, has me sporting a serious chubby. Getting home wearing only a towel in ten degree weather is gonna suck, but like the sick fucker I am, I want the souvenir. It smells like honeysuckle and hibiscus. Wonder how long it’ll be before the scent of her fades.

Clutching the towel around my hips, I move to the window and peek out. We’re only one floor up. And there’s a decent size tree right by the window. Perfect. A hop and a jump, and I’ll be shimmying down that tree and well on my way.

“No, it’s not a problem,” Anita’s voice rings out from the other side of the bedroom door. “I’ll get it for you right now, before I forget.” The doorknob twists.

Shit. There’s no time to look for somewhere to hide, so I shift and drop to the floor.

Don’t noticeme.

Don’t notice me.

Don’t notice me.

Her eyes immediately land on me and the damp towel under me. Crinkled eyebrows and a frown tarnish her pretty features. “Didn’t I leave you in the bathroom?”

She picks me up and studies me like she’s questioning if I’m real. After a beat, she shakes off any confusion and shrugs as if she’s decided she must have moved me and forgotten. She picks up the towel and carries both it and me back into the bathroom. The towel gets put back on the hook, and I go back on the counter.

“I’m almost ready for that bath, Duckie. Just be patient one more minute.”

With one more longing look towards the tub, she goes back into the bedroom to grab whatever she was getting for her friend.

Does she really mean a minute or ten? While I debate if I should risk trying to escape again, the clock ticks down and before I’ve decided, Anita is back in the bathroom, turning on the tub and dumpingin mountains of bubble bath.

She drops me into the bubbles with a giddy little laugh. “You don’t know how much you saved my day, Duckie. Having you here with me makes me feel like I’m going to figure everything out.” She pats my head, which sends me bobbing under the water.

She steps one silky leg in at a time. Bubbles block most of my view, and a wave tilts me to the side as she sinks into the tub. But I don't need to see much for my imagination to run wild with images of her.

She moves her hands through the water, creating little ripples that have me bouncing closer to the plump curve of her breasts floating at the surface. The bubbles cover all the parts of her I desperately want to see, but know I shouldn’t. Including her nipples.

No, no. I don’t want to see them. I don’t want to be that creep sneaking peeks when she doesn’t know, but fuck, I wish I could look down, part the white foam and take in the sight of her pussy. Is shecovered in curls or shaved bare?

She moans as she sinks deeper into the hot water, letting it ease the tension in her shoulders. I wish I could rub that tightness away, massage her until she’s relaxed and pliant.

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