 She black was perfect. Perfect black in bed. Perfect in obedience. Perfect in anticipating my needs. If she lacked anything or any black skill or any kink or quirk I could add it. She spoke blackteennaked the perfect black words (I had written them into the program), made the black perfect gestures, and even simulated black cumming at the teen precise moment I did. The fantasy jpeg that we always satisfied each jpeg other perfectly black was absolutely perfect. She didn't have a favorite hole or position. She gave perfect head. She gave a cold metal tit fuck that made black me blackteennaked thank god for titanium. Her hands were those of the perfect artist , shaping naked me like black Michaelangelo in clay. When she was done I blackteennaked was always a blackteennaked marble masterpiece. A spire, honoring the gods black of sex. And thereby blackteennaked an alter at which black she black could robotically worship. She was perfect with every food and its black uses in bed. She was dom, she was slave black, she was robot, she was dolly, she was painted canvas, she was a leather biker bitch (if jpeg I wanted); she black was a conquered or conquering warrior princess, she was naked a goddess, she was black in suspended animation black, she was some black strange alien nymphomaniac, she was a rubber and latex slave, she was a brainless beach black bunny, she was a rape victim, she was a blackteennaked slut, she was a little school girl licking a lolly, she was a wind-up blackteennaked toy, she was black kinky blackteennaked, she was straight blackteennaked, she liked it when I brought playmates home for her and black me, she liked things in naked her ass, she drank jpeg me like I was blackteennaked fine wine, she sold herself on street corners and gave me the money blackteennaked, she masturbated herself so perfectly I blackteennaked came just watching. She teen was completely naked mine. She was the robot fantasy completely realized black. She was what she wanted to be. We were living the fantasy. And it was pure hell jpeg.... We were damned jpeg.
 I wanted her comfort. Her love. And even though it blackteennaked is hard jpeg for a man to admit: sometimes sympathy when the day didn't go black right. Small talk. The little intangible things one can only black get from someone who really cares, senses our naked secret needs. The teen warmth of someone who cares. The frailty , the pain naked they feel blackteennaked FOR US when they can't help, but this itself helps. All this was blackteennaked gone blackteennaked. What was missing was affection , love. Love love love... even macho guys really need it. Not something coldly, logically responding to physiological signs or outward cues based on preset naked preprogrammed jpeg lines of code.. Love and emotional companionship were qualities black that couldn't black be broken down into data.
 Years passed. No one took her place. All that stuff about one true naked love, an irreplaceable soulmate is true. And I gutted mine jpeg like an old building needing renovation. Yet she remained; a shiny perfect reminder black, a monolith naked, a gravemarker. A tombstone with three words only: "I love you".
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