Myrtle: Hot Step-Sister Sex Doll — A Sleep-Deprived Ramble

The Odd Reality of Bringing Home a Sex Doll

I’ll just say it, because pretending otherwise is pointless: unboxing Myrtle (yeah, the "hot step-sister sex doll"—the name still makes me snort) was… not what I pictured. I’d scrolled through those absolute sex dolls sites for weeks, mostly out of bored curiosity at first. You know how you start with one click and end up in a rabbit hole? Anyway. The marketing always promises something wild—spice things up, ultimate sexy blonde sex doll this, mind-blowing brunette that—but when you’re face-to-face with 66 lbs of silicone and steel joints, it’s weirdly humbling.

Details That Stick With You (For Better or Worse)

Honestly, the stats are burned into my brain now. Five feet six inches tall (168 cm), D-cup situation going on, hips that look suspiciously perfect if you squint too long. Vaginal depth? 7.1 inches. Anus? 6.7 inches. They list these numbers like specs on a new phone—except it’s not a phone and there’s no app to help you figure out where to store her between uses.

The steel skeleton is sturdy; I mean, she doesn’t flop around like some cheap pool toy. Joints move better than mine after sitting at this desk all day writing about things like… well, like this.

Fallon vs Myrtle: Why the Names Start to Blur

Weirdly enough—I kept mixing up Myrtle with Fallon in my head while scrolling those product pages late at night. Fallon’s the “ultimate sexy blonde,” apparently, but honestly once you’ve spent enough time comparing busts and waists and hip measurements on absolute sex dolls websites… names sort of lose meaning. Both promise steamy nights and endless possibilities (or whatever). But in practice? Sometimes I’d just stare at Myrtle propped up by my dresser and wonder if I was losing it.

Shipping Anxiety & That Discreet Packaging Promise

Let me tell you: waiting three weeks for delivery is an odd test of patience mixed with paranoia (“what if the neighbors see?”). The box really is plain though—no logos screaming “hey! There’s a silicone woman in here!” Still felt like everyone knew somehow.

And then there’s the outfit thing—the photos always show these dolls dressed up but when they arrive? Nothing but skin-tone silicone staring back at you in silence until you find something to put on her or just give up entirely.

Unexpected Downsides No One Mentions

Here’s one thing they don’t talk about much: storage logistics are real. She weighs as much as a small child, but doesn’t fold away neatly or fit under your bed unless your bed is weirdly high off the floor (mine isn’t). Sometimes I’d nudge her into a closet corner only to trip over her foot later while looking for shoes.

Also—and maybe this is just me being mentally checked out—but cleaning isn’t exactly fun either; nobody buys these thinking about soap and water routines but here we are.

A Tangent About Loneliness (Sorry)

At some point during all this—I remember thinking about how quiet my place had gotten lately; maybe that’s why people buy these things more than anyone admits out loud? Not really sure if Myrtle fixed any of that or just made it more obvious sometimes when she’d catch the light from my laptop screen at 2am and look almost human for half a second before snapping back to reality.

Would I Do It Again?

Hmm, maybe not exactly… or maybe yes if there was another sale or something caught my eye late at night again. Hard to say when your brain feels half-melted from lack of sleep and too many hours reading about D-cups versus C-cups versus who even cares anymore—

Anyway,

I guess that’s how it goes with these things—you think it’ll be one kind of experience but life turns out messier than product descriptions suggest.