Wearing Jennifer's Face
By Vicki Mock
There are eight of us enjoying a dinner party at Jennifer's house, including my girlfriend and me, and we have been drinking. Jennifer and I have been trading warm smiles--there has always been an attraction between us. Jennifer is older than me, a widow for several years, and very attractive.
I wander down the hall seeking the bathroom and end up in her bedroom. I see something that really takes my breath away: On the bureau, covered by a plastic bag, is an amazing mask of Jennifer's head. I pick it up and examine it: it looks so erotic with the mouth half open and the eyes empty. Jennifer suddenly strolls in--she clearly followed me--and tells me that her husband made for himself from a cast of her head and it is real in all details. She can tell I am fascinated by it, and she takes it off the pedestal so I can have a closer look. As I hold it playfully up to my face, she tells me, almost orders me, to try it on, and moves swiftly to put it on me as I protest weakly.
My friends walk in and watch in amusement. With some difficulty Jennifer stretches the mask onto my head, as I stop protesting and help her. The mask is made of a material that is squishy like a silicone breast and quite stretchy--it fits me tightly but it is not uncomfortable. The nostrils extend into my nose, and the lips of the mask fit over mine giving me Jennifer's soft, feminine lips. I touch the mask and feel the thickness at the cheekbones. It reminds me of the way my sense of touch is numbed when wearing a condom--this is like wearing a condom over my head. But unlike a condom, the opening of the mask is as small and my head is large. It turns me on that I cannot take off this mask without difficulty.
I go to the mirror, glad that my penis is bound down in tight underwear. I look in the mirror at my reflection, now wearing Jennifer's face, her dark curly hair cascading around her face, my eyes shadowed in her eye sockets, the nose prominent but feminine, the slightly cleft chin, the lips soft and well defined. Come on, she says with enthusiasm sharpened by alcohol, let�s dress you up so you look the part. I look at my friends smiling: little do they know that I have no choice, that I have dreamed of this. My heart pounds with lust and excitement, and I wish the pleasure of this moment could go on forever. My head is trapped in Jennifer's skin--it holds me firmly, with no hope of removal, I imagine, and that is how I want it.
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