Barry Hicks
24th December 2007, 10:29 AM
This tale has been around for a long time but if you only read it once a year.....
As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them but every year they hung sadly empty.
One year I decided to make his dream come true and visited an adult shop down town.
If you have never been to an adult shop, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself saying things like, "What does this do? You're kidding me. Who would buy that?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section.
I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could double as a passenger in my ute so I could use the fast lane during rush hour.
Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I had only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for 'Loveable Louise'. She was at the bottom of the price range and to call her a doll took a huge leap of imagination.
On Christmas Eve, with the help of a bicycle pump, Louise came to life.
My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate the cookies and what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray and went home and giggled for a couple of hours.
Later, my brother phoned to say Santa had been to his house and had left a present that had made him VERY happy but had made the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more.
We agreed that Louise should ramain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.
My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked.
My brother quickly axplained, "It's a doll."
"Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped.
I had several candidates in mind but kept my mouth shut.
"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice Gran.' said my brother, to steer her into the dining room but Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?"
Again, I could have answered, but why should I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of an ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, hang on!"
My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, "Hey, who's the naked girl by the fireplace?"
I told him she was my brother's friend.
A few minutes later, I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then I realised this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.
The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she suddenly lurched from the pantyhose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap by the sofa.
The cat screamed, I passed cranberry sauce through my nose and Grandpa ran across the room, fell on his knees and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. My brother fell backwards over his chair and wet his pants.
Granny threw down her napkin, stamped out of the room and sat in the car.
It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.
Later in the garage, we conducted a thorough examination to determine the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered she has suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.
Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health.
As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them but every year they hung sadly empty.
One year I decided to make his dream come true and visited an adult shop down town.
If you have never been to an adult shop, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself saying things like, "What does this do? You're kidding me. Who would buy that?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section.
I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could double as a passenger in my ute so I could use the fast lane during rush hour.
Finding what I wanted was difficult. Love dolls come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I had only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for 'Loveable Louise'. She was at the bottom of the price range and to call her a doll took a huge leap of imagination.
On Christmas Eve, with the help of a bicycle pump, Louise came to life.
My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate the cookies and what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray and went home and giggled for a couple of hours.
Later, my brother phoned to say Santa had been to his house and had left a present that had made him VERY happy but had made the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more.
We agreed that Louise should ramain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner.
My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked.
My brother quickly axplained, "It's a doll."
"Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped.
I had several candidates in mind but kept my mouth shut.
"Boy, that turkey sure smells nice Gran.' said my brother, to steer her into the dining room but Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?"
Again, I could have answered, but why should I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of an ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, hang on!"
My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, "Hey, who's the naked girl by the fireplace?"
I told him she was my brother's friend.
A few minutes later, I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then I realised this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home.
The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she suddenly lurched from the pantyhose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap by the sofa.
The cat screamed, I passed cranberry sauce through my nose and Grandpa ran across the room, fell on his knees and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. My brother fell backwards over his chair and wet his pants.
Granny threw down her napkin, stamped out of the room and sat in the car.
It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember.
Later in the garage, we conducted a thorough examination to determine the cause of Louise's collapse. We discovered she has suffered from a hot ember to the back of her right thigh.
Fortunately, thanks to a wonder drug called duct tape, we restored her to perfect health.