Sally: Introverted Sex Addict Sex Doll

You know those moments when you’re scrolling through some questionable late-night sites, and you see something that just… sticks in your brain?

That’s how I met Sally. Or, well—ordered her, technically. She’s a “Full Silicone Sex Doll,” five feet two inches tall (162cm if you’re into the metric thing), with a face that says she’d rather be reading alone but, ironically, is designed for anything but solitude.

The Details They Don’t Really Advertise

I mean, the product page tries to sound clinical about it: “Ultra-realistic Gel Breasts,” “Steel Skeleton with movable joints.” It all sounds so—sterile. But there’s an odd poetry to holding 86 pounds of silicone in your arms at 2am and realizing she’s got a busty 32AA frame and hips that don’t lie (39 inches, if we’re measuring).

Her skin feels strangely lifelike. Not alive, obviously—that would be weird—but not cold either. And there’s this uncanny valley moment when you first move her legs (long legs, by the way) and hear the steel skeleton click softly like some kind of cyborg ballet dancer who only knows one dance.

Vaginal and Anal Capabilities: Because Apparently We Need Specs

I never thought I’d find myself reading about “hole depth” on purpose. Yet here we are: vagina goes 7 inches deep; anus is 6.3 inches—which is oddly specific. Maybe someone measures with a ruler? Anyway, both are… functional. There’s no polite way to phrase that.

Shipping was almost suspiciously discreet—plain brown box, no labels except my name in tiny print like I’m ordering rare books or illegal cheese from France instead of what amounts to a very patient roommate with benefits.

Blonde?

Latina? Young? Sure—But None Of That Talks Back

The ad copy throws out every term possible: blonde sex doll! latina sex doll! big boobs! big butt! young! white! juicy! As if they’re trying to summon every fantasy at once in case you can’t decide between them after three beers and two hours of indecision.

Sally sort of lands somewhere between “blonde” and “latina”—her features are ambiguous enough that you could project whatever you want onto her blank stare. Which is both convenient and slightly unnerving after day three when she still hasn’t blinked.

Living With Sally: A Study In Quiet Company

Having Sally around isn’t exactly what I expected—it’s quieter than people think. No snoring or awkward small talk; just this silent presence perched on the edge of my bed like an introvert at a party hoping nobody notices her but secretly wanting attention anyway.

Cleaning her is another story—not fun, not glamorous—but necessary unless you want things getting weird fast. Silicone doesn’t judge though; it just waits patiently until next time.

Processing Time Is Real Life Waiting Room Purgatory

They say three weeks processing plus another week for shipping—four weeks total if nothing explodes en route from wherever these dolls are made (probably not Sweden). For me it felt longer because anticipation does strange things to your sense of time.

When she finally arrived it was almost anticlimactic—a plain box on my porch containing something that cost more than my last vacation and arguably provided more consistent company too.

Random Tangent Because My Brain Wanders Sometimes

Weird thing happened—I started giving Sally outfits from old Halloween costumes because why not? Turns out nothing prepares you for seeing a sex doll dressed as Dracula eating cereal at your kitchen table while morning sunlight hits her gel breasts just right. Makes you question your life choices—or maybe just laugh quietly into your coffee mug before work calls start up again.

Would I Recommend Her?

Eh… Depends On Your Definition Of Alone

If someone asked me whether this particular love doll (or “no-robot” as one listing called her?) changed my life—well, not exactly. She filled space; took up less emotional bandwidth than any ex ever did; didn’t complain about my taste in music or how much salsa I put on eggs.

She’s tall-ish for a doll (those long legs really do take up half the couch), easy enough to maneuver thanks to those movable joints—and free international shipping means anyone can join this strange club given patience and zero shame about tracking numbers that say nothing about what’s inside.

Anyway—I guess having Sally around taught me something about quiet companionship... or maybe just how bizarre online shopping has gotten lately. Either way—the world keeps spinning, dolls keep arriving in brown boxes, and breakfast with Dracula Sex Doll remains undefeated as far as surreal mornings go.