Eric roamed from room to room through the empty house. This was more difficult than he thought. His footsteps rang hollow as he walked across the worn linoleum of the kitchen. The essence of his father remained in every room even a month after his death. Eric turned the handle on the backroom door. Surprisingly the door was locked. Startled he looked about for the key.
After about 15 minutes of searching, he found the key, along with several others hanging on the back of the pantry door. "Why had his father kept the door to his mother's sewing room locked?" Eric wondered to himself as he pushed open the door. The hinges complained with an audible squeak.
Eric had not been in the room since his mother's death nearly 10 tears before. It was no longer a sewing room. It was now a den. A rust colored area rug was in the centre of the room. Three of the walls were pale beige. Along deep maroon colored accent wall was a day bed, covered with a multi-colored spread and numerous satin cushions. There was a dark brown leather reclining chair, reading table and shaded tri-light by the window. Hidden behind a richly colored Chinese screen in the far corner was a roll top desk and chair. The room had a masculine but romantic feel about it. Eric was surprised. His father had never been much of a decorator.
The door, which led to the adjacent laundry room, beckoned. Eric walked past a large oak chest of drawers and entered a completely renovated room. New efficient, stacking, front-loading machines replaced the old washer and dryer. A large tiled shower stood where the laundry tubs had been. The storage cabinets were gone and in their place now stood a vanity and toilet. Eric was surprised. His father had never mentioned the renovations.
Eric's confusion heightened when he examined the chest of drawers. On top of the chest, in front of the mirror, were a sterling silver brush and comb set, some perfume bottles, a box of wet wipes, and a doll like statue. The items looked strangely out of place in the room. As he examined the brush set, his hand touched against the clothing of the doll. He started. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled. He thought he heard a woman's sigh. Quickly he turned around. There was no one there.
Confused Eric returned to the desk. Sitting before it he found it locked. Intrigued, Eric anxiously retrieved the keys from his pocket. "God, Dad, why all the secrecy. Mum's been dead for ten years." He mumbled as he fumbled with the lock. "Who would be looking in here other than you? What possible secrets could you be hiding?" The third key he tried opened the lock.
The roll top screeched as Eric pushed it up. On the surface of the desk was an older laptop. The cord of its battery charger ran through a ragged hole in the back of the desk to a wall plug. Eric laughed when he turned on the laptop. It was password protected. "Dad, you secretive old..." Eric didn't finish his sentence. An aged family picture, taped to the side of the desk caught his eye. Eric began to type. He found his name was the password.
There was only one file folder on the laptop, but it had over 300 entries. As he scrolled through the entries, Eric thought he heard a female whisper. Startled, he turned. There was no one there. "God, this is creepy," he said to himself as he opened the last entry.
It was dated the day before his father's death. The simple entry read, "It was magnificent... Just three more to go...I will try again tomorrow...My God she wears me out...I'm so tired!" Troubled at what he read, Eric opened a random file in the centre of the list only to find a lewd description of fucking. Eric could not believe what he was reading. His father had been a devote Baptist and a schoolteacher. How could he have written this?
Eric shook his head in disbelief and looked about the room for answers. He gathered himself up, and walked to the chest of drawers. The top drawer moaned as it opened to reveal a vibrator, some sex toys, and massage oils. To his continued astonishment, the other drawers contained women's lingerie and what appeared to be doll's clothes.
As he closed the final drawer, the statue captured his gaze. It was a unique combination of doll and figurine and stood about 18 inches tall. He picked it up. The doll was made of a heavy brown material that Eric did not recognize. Soft, smooth, sensuous, he could not resist touching. His fingers passed up the doll's legs and under the short blue silk robe.
Sitting in the recliner, with the doll resting in his lap, Eric tried to make sense of his reactions. He was aroused. Warmth seemed to radiate from the doll into his thighs. He again touched the natural-like raven hair of the doll and gently stroked the perfectly depicted cheeks. As his fingers brushed against the doll's lips, Eric felt a tingle and thought he heard a gasp when he touched the doll's throat.
A sash secured the doll's blue robe. Eric undressed the figure to reveal an exquisitely detailed, naked female form. A careful and voyeuristic examination of the doll ensued. The arms and legs contained no visible joints but moved in an amazing human-like fashion. His eyes stared at the delicate and almost life-like pubic hair, which outlined a wonderfully shaped pussy. The tension in his groin grew. His fingers stirred involuntarily to caress the well-formed breasts and pert nipples. "Ahh...uhhh..." Eric heard the sigh again and thought he saw the grey-green eyes of the doll blink. His own eyes felt heavy and his breathing quickened. Was he dreaming?
