Our real doll was $7,000. She doesn't look like a corpse, she looks like a doll-like woman. Who never blinks. And needs to take yoga. My dude and I spend a lot of time apart. Also, we get much of the fun of 3-ways, and zero drama. This is not just some dude to me. This is the killer-of-bugs and reader-of-bedtime stories. I do not plan to share him with a living, breathing woman anytime soon. Plus, she's fucking cool. Cigarbabe and Mr. Ed in Mass saw her when she was still a virgin. They seemed to agree with us.
We do buy outfits for her and dress her up. She's a doll. Dolls are for dress-up. You can't put makeup on her. She'd turn into a $7,000 mess. She's made of silicone. Makeup is made of oily stuff. We chose "make up" for her when we ordered her. I like wigs, and whenever I get a new wig for myself, I intend to share it with her.
Yes, he fucks her in all three of her perfectly extruded holes. So what? What's the difference between our Real Doll and a pocket pussy? Or calling a phone fantasy girl? Or watching porn? What's really so weird about it?