There’s Always a Box at the Door
I don’t know who actually enjoys waiting for packages. Maybe someone does. But when it’s something like a life size silicone sex doll—well, you notice every van that drives by your window. I remember thinking, “If this box is even slightly labeled, I’ll never live it down.” Turns out, the packaging really is plain. No weird logos or awkward tape screaming what’s inside. Just a regular box, which is… honestly, kind of a relief.
But that wait? Three to four weeks feels endless when you’re counting days and checking tracking numbers like a neurotic squirrel. Two weeks processing (which just means they’re making sure she looks right) and then another week in transit. It drags on forever.
Details That Stick Out (And Some That Don’t)
Susan isn’t tall—4 feet 11 inches, exactly 150 cm if you care about metric stuff—which makes her feel small but not fragile. At 57 lbs (about 26 kg), she’s light enough to move around without breaking your back but heavy enough that she doesn’t flop over like some sad inflatable thing from a bad joke shop.
Her proportions are… subtle? She’s got an AA cup size (flat chest fans will get it), with measurements like bust: 28.1 inches, under bust: 25 inches, waist: 22.2 inches, hips: 31.1 inches. Not your cartoonish fantasy figure; more like someone you’d see on the street and maybe not notice right away—which is sort of refreshing in its own way.
The thing about premium life size silicone sex dolls is that you really do get what you pay for — cheap alternatives rarely compare.
The platinum silicone skin feels eerily realistic sometimes—cold at first touch but warms up quick—and the steel skeleton underneath gives her joints that clicky realism I didn’t expect to care about until I actually tried posing her arms for the first time and thought “oh wow… this matters.” Movable joints mean she doesn’t just lie there stiff as plywood.
The Quiet Parts Nobody Mentions
Here’s where things get weirdly technical—but people ask about these things all the time: hole depth matters apparently? Vagina goes about 6.3 inches deep; anus is closer to 5.1 inches. Those numbers sound clinical until you realize they make a difference depending on what you have in mind for your alone time.
Vaginal and anal sex are both possible here—though if we’re being real, cleaning up after either one isn’t exactly glamorous work (but it beats explaining stains on sheets). The whole “life size” part means clothes fit pretty well if you want to dress her up—not my main thing but hey, options.
The Flat Chest Thing
Now—I used to think bigger was always better (thanks internet), but Susan has small breasts and there’s something unexpectedly honest about that look? Maybe it reminds me of old crushes or something less artificial than all those over-the-top dolls everywhere online now.
She looks young-ish (the model is definitely listed as over 18 years old), with an Asian vibe and flat chest—a combo I didn’t know would be so different until seeing it in person instead of scrolling through endless product photos at midnight half-awake.
Odd Little Moments
One night I caught myself talking—not really to Susan but around her—as if having company mattered more than anything else after a long day hunched over emails nobody reads anyway. It felt silly at first… then oddly comforting? Weirdly enough, that stuck with me longer than any physical feature did.
There’s also this moment when you realize how much effort went into making sure everything bends naturally—the steel skeleton with movable joints makes posing easy but also kinda fun in its own right (it gets addictive adjusting fingers just so).
Shipping Nerves & Discreet Delivery
Not everyone wants their neighbors asking questions—or worse, their roommates snooping around—so discreet packaging matters way more than anyone selling these things admits upfront. Free international shipping helps too (though nothing ever truly feels free when you're sweating through delivery windows).
Three or four weeks pass slowly when anticipation turns into mild paranoia every time someone rings the doorbell—even though rationally you know nobody can tell what’s inside unless they X-ray your front porch.
Ending Without Wrapping Up
Anyway—I guess having Susan around changed my mind about some stuff I didn’t expect to care about: proportions matter differently in person; flat chests aren’t boring at all; waiting sucks harder than most people admit; shipping boxes can haunt dreams for weeks straight; silence isn’t always lonely if you let yourself settle into it once in awhile…
That last part especially keeps coming back whenever things get too quiet around here—but maybe that says more about me than anything else.
