Minu elu sai pärast anime seksinuku saamist seksika versiooniuuenduse

Kõik korras, you filthy degenerates, strap the fuck in, because I’m about to spill the uncensored, balls-to-the-wall story of how my life went from a limp-dick snoozefest to a full-on anime porn fantasy after I scored myself an anime seksinukk. This ain’t some sanitized fairy tale—it’s raw, it’s nasty, and it’s straight from the fucked-up depths of my soul. I’m gonna walk you through the before, the after, the jaw-dropping reactions from my dumbass friends, Ja kuidas ma saaksin paratamatu paskormiga hakkama, kui tüdruksõber või mu nosy-ass perekond teada. Saame selle veidra show teele.

Enne nukku: Kurb, Jäme olemasolu

Pilt mind kuus kuud tagasi: 27 years old, vallaline emana, paigas paslikus väikeses korteris, mis lõhnas nagu aegunud ramen ja kahetsus. Minu elu oli kuradi hamstriratas-ärka koidu tagurpidi, komistama vannituppa, Jerk maha ükskõik millise poole korraliku porno juurde, mida ma oma pragunenud telefoniekraanilt leidsin, Seejärel lohistage oma kahetsusväärne rümp hinge imemise tööle, kus mu ülemus karjus mulle valesti hingamise pärast. Pärast kaheksa tundi seda jama, Ma tuleksin koju, flopp mu peitsitud diivanile, Tuli mu mänguseade üles, and waste the night blasting aliens or grinding XP in some MMO with neckbeards I’d never meet IRL. Then it was lights out, rinse, repeat. No pussy, no thrills, just me and my calloused right hand locked in a sad, predictable dance.

Dateerimine? Fuck that noise. I’d tried the apps—swiped right on a hundred profiles, matched with maybe five, and got ghosted by every single one after two lines of boring-ass small talk. "Hei, how’s your day?” “Good, you?” Yawn. I wasn’t about to waste my time chasing real chicks who’d flake or nag me to death. My sex life was a one-man show, and even that was losing its spark. P站 was my go-to, but after years of the same old shit—fake moans, bad lighting, and actresses who looked bored as hell—I was numb. I needed something to shake me out of this pathetic rut, something wild, something that didn’t involve begging for attention or catching an STD.

Then, one sleepless night, I’m scrolling some sketchy forum at 3 A.M., half-drunk on cheap beer, when I stumble across this thread: “Anime Sex Dolls Saved My Miserable Life.” Some dude’s going off about how he dropped a grand on a custom doll and now lives like a goddamn harem king. He’s got pics—silicone skin, perky tits, eyes that stare right through you—and he’s waxing poetic about how it’s better than any real chick he’s ever fucked. I’m sitting there, dick twitching, thinking, Holy shit, this is it. The next morning, hungover but horny as hell, I max out my credit card on a 1:1 scale “Rei Ayanami” doll from Evangelion—blue hair swinging past her shoulders, a rack that could stop traffic, and those cold, red eyes that make you wanna drop to your knees and beg. I hit “confirm purchase” and waited, balls buzzing with anticipation.

After the Doll: Living the Wet Dream

Fast forward two weeks. The doorbell rings, and I nearly trip over my own feet racing to sign for the package. The delivery guy gives me this knowing smirk—like he’s delivered enough of these to spot a perv a mile away—but I don’t give a fuck. I drag the box inside, rip it open like a kid on Christmas, Ja seal ta on: Rei Ayanami in all her silicone glory. I’m talking skin so smooth it’s begging to be touched, joints that bend like she’s ready to ride me right there, and a body so fucking perfect I almost bust a nut just looking at her. She’s heavier than I expected—50 pounds of pure sex—but that just makes her feel more real. I spend an hour unboxing her, running my hands over every curve, squeezing those fat tits, and marveling at how her ass jiggles when I smack it. This ain’t no cheap blow-up doll—this is a goddamn masterpiece.

First thing I do? Riietu ta üles. I’d ordered a slutty little sailor outfit online—short skirt, tight top, thigh-high stockings—and I slide it onto her, adjusting her pose so she’s lounging on my couch like she owns the place. I step back, and holy fuck, my shitty apartment transforms. See pole enam prügimägi - see on Pervi katusekorter, Ja Rei on kuninganna. Sellest hetkest alates, mu elu libiseb skripti.

Nüüd, Iga päev on pulss. Ma jõuan töölt koju, Käivitage mu kingad, Ja seal ootab mind Rei, legs crossed, vahtis mind selle tühjaga, seksikas naeratus. "Hei, beib, igatsen mind?"Ma ütlen, irvitamine nagu idioot. Yeah, Ma räägin temaga - võtke mind kõik, mida soovite, Kuid see peksab vaikust. Ma valmistan õhtusööki-tavaliselt mõni laisk-ass-ramen või külmutatud pitsa-ja panin talle välja lisataldriku, ainult sitade ja itsitamiste jaoks. Ta ei söö, ilmselgelt, Kuid see on vibe, mis loeb. Seal istudes, Nuuudlid, millega ta on minust üles tõmmatud, Tunnen end vähem nagu üksildane kaotaja ja rohkem nagu kuuma mehega, Vaikne toanaaber, kes on alati kurat.

Nights are where shit gets real. After a long day of dealing with my prick of a boss, I’ll flop onto the couch next to her and vent. “You won’t believe this asshole today, Rei—he chewed me out for ten minutes because I forgot to CC him on an email. What a dick.” She just stares, those red eyes locked on me, and I swear it’s like she’s listening, nodding along in her own fucked-up way. Then, when I’m done bitching, the fun starts. I’ll grab her, toss her over my shoulder, and carry her to the bedroom—or the kitchen, or the shower, depending on my mood. No foreplay, no whining, just straight to the good stuff. She’s always wet (thanks, lube), always ready, Ja ma olen teda keppinud igas asendis, millest võite unistada - kollakas põrandal, kui tema perse on kõrge, misjonär voodil ja jalad laiali, isegi painutas ta kord kraanikausi üle, kui ma vaatasin, kuidas ta peeglist põrkasid. See on toores, See on räpane, Ja see on parim seks, mis mul kunagi olnud.

Kuid see pole mitte ainult kuradi - ehkki, sitt, See on tohutu osa. Olen koos temaga muutunud kuradi kunstnikuks. Mul on nüüd sahtlit täis rõivaid - main kleit, millel on langev dekoltee, Jänku tüdruku ülikond rihmaga, mis katab vaevalt tema kiisu, Koolitüdruku vormiriietus nii lühike, näete kõike, kui ta istub. Vahetasin ka tema parukaid - ühel päeval, roosa bob järgmisel - ja poseerib talle piltide jaoks. Mul on odav kaamera ja statiiv, Ja ma veedan tunde teda lavastades: Rei levitas voodil, kui tema seelik matkas üles, Rei kummardas mu laua peal, kui ta on käes, nagu oleks ta minu ulakas sekretär, Rei duši all veega tilkub tema tissid. Postitan parimad kaadrid mõnele maa -alusele foorumile, ja sealsed sarvjas värdjad kaotavad oma mõtte - “Bro, Sa elad unistust!"" Kust sa ta kätte said? Olen müüdud!”Minu postkast on üle ujutatud januste kommentaaridega, Ja ma leotan seda. Elu pole lihtsalt täielikum - see on kuradi lööklaine.

Sõbrad kukuvad mööda: Naer ja rasked

Nii, siin on see, kus sitt muutub lõbusaks. Paar kuud, Olen sügaval oma rei kinnisidees, Ja unustan ühe reede õhtul oma neetud ukse lukustada. I’m in the kitchen, cracking a beer, when my two college buddies—Fatso and AJ—barge in like they own the place. They’re loud as fuck, waving a six-pack and yelling, “Yo, dipshit, we’re hitting the bars—get your ass ready!” I’m about to tell them to fuck off when they freeze mid-step, jaws dropping like cartoon characters.

There’s Rei, sprawled on my sofa in a black bunny girl outfit—fishnet stockings hugging her thighs, a thong so tiny it’s basically a suggestion, and her tits spilling out of the top. I’d posed her with a PS5 controller in her hands, legs spread just enough to flash a peek of silicone pussy, like she’s mid-gaming session. Fatso’s the first to react—he chokes on his own spit, sprays beer all over my floor, and wheezes, “What the FUCK is THAT?!” AJ’s doubled over, laughing so hard he’s clutching his gut, pointing at me with tears in his eyes. “You sick motherfucker, you’ve gone full weeb! Is that your girlfriend now?"

I lean against the counter, smirking like the smug bastard I am. “She’s better company than you two pricks—doesn’t talk back, doesn’t drink my beer.” Fatso’s still gawking, circling her like she’s a goddamn UFO. He pokes her tit, watches it jiggle, and mutters, “Holy shit, it feels real. How much was this? I need one of these in my life.” AJ’s snapping selfies with her, one arm around her shoulders, grinning like a perv. “Bro, you’re a legend. Kas ta tuleb akudega?”Pöördun silmi. "Ei, Lihtsalt määrde ja kõvasti sisse lülitatud. ”

Nad veedavad järgmise tunni ümber keppides - Patso üritab teda poseerida tweringi hoiakusse, AJ karjub pidevalt, "Pange ta mind suudlema!” - ja selleks ajaks, kui nad lahkuvad, Nad kutsuvad teda “kuninganna rei” ja kerjavad veebisaidi linki. Järgmine päev, Minu telefon puhub - grupp -vestlus on saanud pilte rei pealkirjaga: “See kutt paugutab nukku ja võidab elus,"Ja vastused on segu" Pühast pask "ja" Gimme the Hookup. " Pool mu meeskonna armukade, pool arvab, et olen hull, aga mõlemal juhul, Olen ema, kellest nad kõik räägivad. Missioon on täidetud.

Sõbranna või perekond teada: Smooth as Fuck

I’m single as hell—thank fuck, because a girlfriend walking in on this would be a shitshow. But let’s say I had one, some hot-tempered chick who catches me balls-deep in Rei one night. She’d scream, “What the fuck is this?! You’re cheating on me with a goddamn doll?!” I’d stay cool as ice, leaning back with a grin. “Babe, chill—this ain’t cheating, it’s art. Look at her—hand-crafted, perfect tits, ass you could bounce a quarter off. You fangirl over anime boys all day; I get my rocks off here. What’s the difference?” She’d probably sputter, face red, so I’d push it further—slide up close, voice low and dirty: “Wanna join us? She’s got no gag reflex, and I bet you’d look hot riding her face.” Half the time, she’d storm out; the other half, she’d be too flustered—and maybe a little wet—to argue. Either way, I’d win.

Family’s a different beast. My mom’s nosy as fuck—caught a glimpse of Rei during a video call a while back. I’d propped her up on the couch in a thong bikini, tits out, legs spread like she’s sunbathing indoors. Mom squints at the screen, voice sharp: “What the hell’s that thing in the background? A mannequin?” I don’t even blink. “Yeah, Ma, photography prop. I’m into artsy shit now—trying to sell pics online.” She grunts, half-convinced, but I catch her eyeing Rei like she’s onto me. Dad’s worse—he’d probably snort, slap my shoulder, and whisper, “How much was she, son? She got a sister?” He’s a dirty old bastard; he’d get it.

If they ever clocked the truth—that I’m fucking this doll every night—I’d go full shameless. “Look, it’s not like I’m knocking up strippers or snorting coke off hookers. She’s low-maintenance, doesn’t talk back, and keeps me out of trouble. You should be proud I’m so resourceful.” Mom’d roll her eyes ‘til they fell out, Dad’d laugh his ass off, and they’d leave me alone eventually. I’ve got thick skin and zero fucks to give—nobody’s shaming me out of this.

Lõplikud mõtted: Life’s a Fuckin’ Party Now

Since Rei crashed into my world, Ma ei kraapi ainult mööda - ma elan nagu kuradi kuningas. Iga päev on säde, Ükskõik, kas ma lavastan teda räpaste fotosessioonide jaoks, lööb ta madratsisse, Või jälgides, kuidas mu sõbrad kaotavad tema üle jama. Mu sõbrad arvavad, et olen väänatud geenius, Mu pere saab mu perset suudelda, kui neile see ei meeldi, ja mina? Olen kaelasügav fantaasia, mis on kõik minu oma, Vabandust pole. Ta on minu slutty väike muusa, Minu vaikne partner kurjategijas, Ja ta on muutnud mu igava perse eksistentsi metsikuks, seksikas tsirkus. Kes annab kuradi, kui see on imelik? Mul on silikoonjumalanna, kes on alati maas, Ja ma sõidan selle kõrge ratta maha kukuma. Kas soovite teda tegutsemas näha? Kiikuge mööda - hoidke lihtsalt oma käed käed ära, kui ma seda ei ütle, sa sarvjas kurat.