Part 1
"It's very cold, isn't it?" I comment as I press my finger against it's cheek. I expected it to be warm.
"I think of Kelly as a 'her', rather than an 'it'." he says as he strokes it's hair.
"Of course." I say, not wanting to shatter his illusion. "Kelly is very cold. I imagined it, I mean 'she' would feel more human."
"It's a common thing," Ian says, "even though these dolls look real, they are still only TPE moulded to look like a woman."
"Like a woman with huge knockers!" I say, lifting and dropping one of the enormous breasts on Ian's life sized rubber love doll.
"Oh, I like them." he smiles, "that's why I bought this model."
"For her big boobs?"
"Exactly. 32MM. Nearly impossible to get a bra for." he confims.
I look at her lying on the pretty duvet set he has her on in his spare room. She looks nice. Not sordid and covered in cum, the way I imagined most men kept their love dolls; using them and shoving them in the cupboard. Her wig was nice too, in fact so were the other two wigs on the drawers over by the window. It is clear he looks after Kelly.
"So, do you fuck her then?" I say, addressing the elephant in the room.
"I don't."
"You paid all that money for it, I mean her, and you don't get any fun out of her?" I say a little confused.
"It's too much effort." he says, looking despondent.
"How come?"
"She is really heavy and I cannot lift her into all the places and positions I would like."
"Oh," I say, wondering how much a doll like this would weigh. "How heavy is she?"
"About forty seven kilos." he says folding his arms and looking down at her.
"Is that too heavy?" I ask, without any reference.
"It's heavy enough. About two bags of cement. And it feels like that too." he says.
"That's tough." I say noting the fact he called her an 'it' that time.
"So what do you do with her?" I ask, not knowing why he bought this life sized barbie doll looking thing that he couldn't lift to fuck.
"I pose her."
"For photo's" I ask, making the link with the photo's he sent me.
"Yes. That is what they are for if you look at the website."
"There's websites?" I ask before hearing my own words and realsing, of course, there are websites, because where else would they buy these things from.
"They don't market them as sex dolls. That's much too seedy."
I wince, wondering if it made him feel seedy, owning one.
"No, they are for dressing and showing off fashion and things. Underwear. Stockings. That kind of thing."
"Ah," I say, reaching down to her washboard like flat stomach under her pink crop top. "like an unpaid model. They buy them and never have to pay for a model."
"That's it. But a lot of men buy them for the sex still."
"So, you can fuck them if you want?"
"They have all the bits. But they take too much cleaning. There's whole threads on it on the sex doll forums, about the best way to clean your doll after you have, you know, cum in her."
The fact that he skirts around men cumming in their bought and paid for sex dolls and goes quiet when he admits to sitting reading posts on sex doll forums is amusing to me because we are standing in his spare room, on a warm April day, a cup of tea each and talking about his immaculate love doll who he has named, dresses differently every day and always pops by to say good morning to and kisses her on the cheek before he goes to bed and it's like he feels like he isn't using her fully because he isn't sing her as a cum dump.
"Well, thanks for letting me see her." I say as I drink the last of my tea and ask where he would like me to place the empty cup.
"No problem. Hope you liked it." he says as he takes the cup from me and places it on the bedside table before I open my bath robe.
I let the soft satin drop from my shoulders, over my wide hips, nipped by tight panties and my hairy pussy framed with an eight strap suspender belt.
"Now where would you like to pose me?" I ask, looking for that glint in his eye I hoped would make him realise real ladies are much better than rubber sex dolls. |
