Perhaps this story is real, perhaps it isn’t ... It’s about a friend who had a nice little fantasy. Nothing elaborate, nothing spectacular. Just a little fantasy, like so many others ...

***

In his mind, she had a warm, golden laughter.

To him she had a gentle smile and a pleasant way of carrying herself.

He could imagine her sensuous stride ...

But she would never do any of these things.

Isabelle would never laugh or smile, dance or cry. She was a beautiful woman in many ways, but her skin was hard and her beautiful dark hair with deep autumn highlights was just a wig.

For all her beauty, Isabelle was "only" a mannequin.

Every day, he passed in front of her and dreamed for a second. Every week she would wear another outfit and every weekend he quivered with anticipation to see her again.

How many times had he doubted himself about his love for her.

How many times had he woken up in the middle of the night and promised himself he would go out and look for a real woman.

How many times had he seen somebody walk past him that seemed perfect, only never to even notice him.

He had often dreamed of complex fantasies, filled with willing women turned into mannequins, by a thousand different methods. Some were turned to living plastic, some wore elaborate suits and some just pretended to be mannequins.

But at the end of the day, there was only one Isabelle.

Every morning he greeted her and wished he could kiss her and ask her why she had that dreamy expression on her face.

It would have been easy to order a mannequin from the company who made them. He had all the catalogs at home ...

But she would never be Isabelle ...

Every evening, he got out of the subway and lingered in front of her, trying to catch a movement that would never come.

And then the fateful day arrived ...

"GOING OUT OF BUSINESS SALE", said the sign.

Isabelle was naked behind it, holding it up.

Even if it meant arriving late at his work, he jumped inside and ... !!!

got cold feet ...

"I was just looking around." Was all he could say to the salesperson.

But then after one quick glance at her from behind, he suddenly turned around again and ...

"Are the mannequins for sale as well ?"

***

The one thing he hated most in the whole wide world except for Brussels sprouts, was a disassembled mannequin ...

With care and skill, he assembled her and made sure the joints all felt smooth and exactly aligned.

He adjusted her wig and examined her for wear and tear. Fortunately there was very little, just some minor flaking around the joints and a little nick on her back.

Isabelle was standing in a relaxed pose with her right hand on her hip and her left hand on her belly. She looked down and to the side, as if staring away and dreaming about something.

She had bright blue eyes, well painted with delicate gray-blue highlights in the pupils and long eyelashes, giving her a bit of a sultry look to her cast down eyes topped with fine arched eyebrows.

Her nose was narrow, but pleasantly curved in a very feminine way.

And her lips had been painted with a rich autumn red, adding to her luxurious hair.

He quickly began to brush it, fearing that transport had messed it.

As for the rest of her body ...

She wasn’t as thin as some other mannequins, but reasonably slender and perfectly shaped with a nice bosom and perky little nipples that would poke through the hardest fabrics.

Her skin was pleasant to touch and it excited him to run his finger all over the surface of her body .

He let go of her, took a few steps back and crouched, trying to recapture the moment he would come out of the subway and see her straight in the eyes. She had almost always been posed that way and he almost wanted to say "Hi, it’s me again."

Time to dress her ... He thought.

He gathered the last outfit she had worn before they had stripped her and sold her to him.

He stared off with a beautiful French-cut white panty with a little lace motif.

A crease hater, he pulled and adjusted it until it was perfect.

Matching clear stockings were pulled over her legs, giving an extra shine to her legs.

She had a nice skin color with a fairly bright, but nice tan.

He chose a simple and sporty shorts and halter-top combination, allowing maximal exposure of her body and still enough clothing to vindicate her mannequin nature. He had chosen cotton over the usual shiny Lycra look with a playful piece of lace trimming for that feminine touch and demure look.

He brushed her hair and adjusted every last lock until he felt she was perfect ...

A few steps back and all she needed was a window to stand in. Isabelle, his lovely Isabelle ...

It was always fun to go out and buy clothes for his "girlfriend". Picking outfits and bringing them home for her.

The telltale lovelorn look flared up in his eyes. He picked her up and carried her in his arms, dancing to some soft romantic music that night.

***

For a moment, his eye caught a familiar pose and pantsuit. But it was in the middle of the street and ...

Isabelle moved and their gazes met. She had the same eyes and same face ...

He rudely stared at her for a very long time, while she tried to hail a cab. She turned round, feeling his gaze prod her all over. There was curiosity in her eyes and it seemed as if she considered asking him something.

He made a step forward and the cab stopped. Obviously in a hurry, she jumped inside it and drove away.

He suddenly realized he would never see her again. This was a big city.

But as he walked down the street, he saw her standing on a corner !

A smile came over his lips and ...

"I know this sounds crazy, but I’ve got this weird feeling that we know each other ?" She said. "I really had to know why ..."

"It’s that you ..." He bumbled, stopped, took a deep breath and began again.

"It’s just that you look just like ..." He almost stopped again. "A mannequin."

She smiled. "Yes, I did pose for a mannequin ! How did you notice ?"

"It was in a shop just by the exit of the subway, it stared at me every time I walked out."

She chuckled and looked a bit daunted, lowering her eyes ...

She had that same dreamy expression !

"Can I buy you lunch or something ?" He asked.

"Yeah why not ?" She replied.