 I couldn that't slam decide which idea was worse. That slam she slam was completely gone or that slam some small slam part of slamthatass her ass was still trapped in there experiencing fuck the same things I was. If she was in there jpeg looking slam out it was worse than any fuck that ass hole prolonged death. I knew, I was fuck that ass hole looking in. In slam my slam shame. In my pain, in my loneliness. Into her robot corpse.
 I pumped my hard cock into slam her perfect pussy. She lubricated fuck that ass hole perfectly. The muscles between her legs applied the perfect pressure to me so we fitted and hole felt...perfect together. She kissed me slamthatass long and deep. Mostly tongue, the way i liked it. We swapped spit. She fuck caressed all that the right places slam perfectly. Her arousal was like that of an animal. Every little motion was perfect. She loved slam using her slam tongue. She licked my lips fuck and plunged inside my mouth again slam. We swapped more sweet slam spit. Her jpeg artificial slam salivation held step one slam of my plan. I felt the ass chemicals begin to affect my that thought processes. I jpeg felt her warmly slamthatass release an endorphin laden slam chemical into her pussy. Step two. She pulled me closer, wrapped her arms and slam legs around me so I could barely continue making a motion. The slam sensuousness slam of her desperate grasp was intense ass. The helplessness had that been exciting (once). We swapped more spit. I tickled her tonsils. Step slam three, too late to turn back. I knew I couldn't jpeg break her grip now. Not that I slamthatass cared to. I came to the moment slam of climax, more an automatic response than sexual one. She came too, but that was hardly a hole surprise, her timing was always perfect. We climaxed, seizured slam, thrashed in an choreographed erotic explosion, finally knocking the bed right off its frame slamthatass. It was sterile, Mechanical, and biological like a chemical reaction more than anything. But still she hole held me. Close, lovingly slam, like she would never let go, passionately. A tiny part of me fuck still clung to the delusion.
 She is working on fuck that ass hole my brain slam now slam. I thank her again while slamthatass I still can. Whoever she is I (feel?) I should thank her for fuck (something?). Her cold eyes do not respond slam but none-the-less somehow slam I vaguely understand that slam justice has been that served. She rips out more slamthatass parts slam I will no longer need. Replaces slam them with wiring and circuit boards. The last thing I ever that remember is the slam sweet I..ron slam..ic agony of having the main control interface drilled and then slamthatass injected painfully into the base of my skull slam. Do machines slam scream?
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