 But I have not seen the slightest hint that the spark pimpmyblackteen of life remains. In all the years since, she is the sum of her program and nothing more. I have black key watched for the slightest spontaneity. It is absent black key. She remains pimpmyblackteen perfect pimpmyblackteen. And I remain a key helpless master. A slave that maintains her slavery. I can do pimp nothing else. I am a monster. The monster pimp she begged pimp me to be. The lonely monster outside of society. The creature that my loathes itself. The thing pimp that must forever my destroy what it teen loves. Because it pimpmyblackteen loves pimp it pimp and can do nothing else. Because pimp it is... asked.
 It was funny how I black key found only loneliness and despair in pimp perfection. The thrill of the fantasy , its novelty, soon wore off. All things lose some "intensity" in time. I had done pimp it all a dozen pimp times. It simply got boring; doing pimpmyblackteen all the thinking black key, the planning, the fantasizing and pimp arranging, that we used to do together. It got access to be work. An effort. Having black key to access cue every prompt made pimp me my more like a stage director than a lover. And afterwards I missed pimpmyblackteen the warmth of that satisfied cuddle. The simple warmth of her body. A few pimpmyblackteen words or sounds of access actual REAL pimp contentment. Most of the time now, she simply stopped when the program my did. Or pimpmyblackteen worse went through pimp the predictable motions pimp I had arranged. Or the limited repertoire of simulated key spontaneity.
 I wanted access her comfort. Her love pimp. And even though pimp it is hard for a black key man to admit: sometimes sympathy when the day didn pimpmyblackteen't go right pimp. Small talk. The little intangible things one can only get from someone who really cares, senses black key our secret needs pimp. The warmth of someone who cares. The frailty , the pain they feel FOR pimp US when they can't help, but this itself helps. All this was gone. What was missing was affection, love. Love love love... even macho key guys really need it. Not something coldly, logically responding to physiological signs or outward cues based on preset pimpmyblackteen preprogrammed lines of code pimp.. Love and emotional companionship were qualities pimp that couldn't be pimp broken down into pimp data.
 Yes, the years passed. And the loneliness, and the pimp guilt key building inside of me, leaving me more empty than her. But now I had a plan, one to set everything right black key. One to end my pain. One that would pimpmyblackteen serve irony up on a grand platter. One key that would be her unspoken pimpmyblackteen just retribution if that spark still invisibly burned behind those glass eyes.
 I pumped key my hard cock into her perfect pimpmyblackteen pussy. She lubricated perfectly pimp. The muscles between her legs applied the perfect pressure to me so we fitted and felt...perfect pimp together. She kissed me long and deep. Mostly tongue, the way i black liked it pimpmyblackteen. We swapped my spit. She caressed black all the right places perfectly. Her pimpmyblackteen arousal was like that of an animal. Every little motion was pimp perfect. She loved using her tongue. She licked my lips and plunged inside my mouth again. We swapped pimp more sweet access spit. Her artificial key salivation held step one pimpmyblackteen of my plan. I felt the pimpmyblackteen chemicals begin to affect my thought processes. I felt her warmly release an endorphin laden chemical into my her pussy. Step two. She pulled me closer, wrapped her arms and legs around me so I could barely continue making a motion. The sensuousness of her desperate grasp was pimpmyblackteen intense. The helplessness had pimpmyblackteen been exciting (once). We swapped pimpmyblackteen more pimp spit. I tickled her tonsils. Step three, too late key to turn back. I knew I couldn't break her grip now. Not that I cared to. I pimp came to the pimp moment of climax, more an automatic response than sexual one. She pimpmyblackteen came too, but that was hardly a pimp surprise teen, her timing was always perfect. We climaxed pimp, seizured, thrashed in an choreographed erotic explosion, finally knocking the bed right black off its frame. It was sterile, Mechanical, and biological like a pimp chemical reaction more than anything. But still pimp she held me. Close, lovingly, like she would never let go, passionately. A tiny part of me still clung to the delusion my.
 Initiate program.
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