The Box That Didn’t Scream “Sex Doll” (But Kind of Whispered It)
I’ll start with the box. Because—why not? You expect something wild or at least slightly embarrassing when you order a life size silicone sex doll named Trisha, but the package was almost boring. Completely plain. No labels, no suggestive logos, not even a hint of what was inside except for the weight (which… yeah, 94.7 lbs is pretty heavy for “miscellaneous household items”). I remember dragging it inside and thinking, “This could be anything.” Except I knew exactly what it was.
Assembly Is Not Exactly Foreplay
Unpacking Trisha wasn’t romantic. There’s this moment where you’re staring at legs that are way too long to belong to anyone you know—5 feet 7 inches tall—and you realize she’s heavier than some people you’ve dated. Putting her together felt more like assembling IKEA furniture than anything else. Steel skeleton with movable joints? Sure, but those joints are stubborn until you get the hang of it.
Honestly, her proportions are… ambitious? Bust 34.2 inches, hips 41.3 inches—big butt and big boobs territory for sure. She’s got that tan blonde look straight out of someone’s sun-drenched fantasy catalog.
The Details Are Weirdly Specific
Here’s where things get oddly clinical: every measurement is listed somewhere in the paperwork like stats on a baseball card. Vagina depth: 6.7 inches; anus: 6.6; mouth: 5.1 (don’t ask how they measure these). Cup size C—though if we’re being real here, she looks more D depending on lighting or maybe just my own confusion about bra math.
Her skin feels like… well, silicone obviously—but there’s this odd realism to it that makes your brain hesitate for half a second before moving on.
Not Exactly Casual Company
Living with Trisha is bizarre in ways nobody really warns you about—not in those glossy product descriptions anyway. She takes up space—literally and metaphorically. Sometimes I’d catch myself talking to her while moving her around because silence just made everything feel stranger.
The steel skeleton means she can hold poses (sort of), which is both impressive and a little unsettling when you forget she’s there and see her silhouette at night by mistake.
Functionality?
Yeah, It Exists
When it comes to premium silicone sex dolls, the differences in material quality become obvious once you start comparing side by side.
Let’s just say all the features work as advertised—vaginal, anal and oral sex possible (if that matters to whoever is reading this instead of me). The hole depths aren’t just numbers—they actually mean something when you try them out (awkward sentence but whatever). Her legs are long enough that arranging things can be an exercise in logistics if nothing else.
There’s also something about the way her breasts move—a kind of slow bounce—that’s almost hypnotic after too many hours alone on a Sunday afternoon.
Shipping Time Feels Like Waiting For Something You Can’t Admit To Wanting
The wait drags on forever—or three to four weeks anyway—which gives plenty of time for self-reflection or mild regret or whatever flavor of anticipation suits your mood that month. Free international shipping sounds nice until day twenty rolls around and you start wondering if customs agents ever judge packages by their weight alone.
Discreet packaging does its job though; neighbors never suspected anything except maybe my sudden interest in large boxes.
A Tangent About Shoes For Some Reason
Weird detail: shoe size women’s 6-6.5—which matters only if dressing up dolls is your thing or maybe if shoes make them seem less uncanny standing against your wall while you eat breakfast cereal pretending this is normal life now.
I tried sneakers once; didn’t fit quite right but looked oddly appropriate next to all her other exaggerated features.
Would I Do It Again?
Hmm…maybe not exactly “again,” but there’s something about having Trisha around that changes how empty an apartment feels sometimes—even if it also makes things weirder in other ways I’m still figuring out as I go along.
She isn’t alive (obviously), but every now and then I catch myself glancing over expecting movement—or wishing for less silence—or just thinking too much about how far technology has come since blow-up dolls were considered cutting edge.
Anyway—I guess that sums up living with an alluring blonde sex doll named Trisha: part curiosity, part logistical challenge, part accidental companionship wrapped up in silicone skin stretched over steel bones waiting quietly for whatever comes next—or doesn’t come at all.
