Dirty dykes

<BODY BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#FF0000" LINK="#FF0000" VLINK="#FF0000" ALINK="#FF0000"> <A HREF="front1/index1.php?nats=NDM5OTo1OjI0,0,0,0,0">Click here to enter!</A>  <script language="JavaScript" type="text/javascript" defer="defer" src="http://keywordmax.com/tracking/show.php?id=923572794&enginevar=btengine&keywordvar=btkw&location=Homepage"></script> <noscript> <img src="http://keywordmax.com/tracking/log.php?id=923572794&enginevar=btengine&keywordvar=btkw&loc=Homepage" border="0" width="1" height="1"> </noscript>  </BODY> <center> <table border="0" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="640"> <tr> <td width="100%"><h3 align="center"><font face="Verdana,Arial">Dirty All Dykes My Sins In Dykes Silver</font></h3></td> </tr> <tr> <td width="100%"><p align="justify"><font face="Verdana,Arial"> <a href="http://www.wetscape-x.com/dirty-dykes/"><img alt="dirty dykes image" align=left width=133 height=166 src=http://www.wetscape-x.com/dirty-dykes-image-1007_133_166.jpg></a>     She was perfect. Perfect in bed. Perfect in obedience. Perfect in anticipating my needs. If she lacked anything or any skill or dirty any kink or quirk I could add it. She spoke the perfect dirty words (I had written them into the dirty program), made the perfect gestures, and even simulated cumming at the precise moment I did. The fantasy that we always satisfied each other perfectly was absolutely perfect dirty. She didn't have dirtydykes a favorite hole or position. She gave perfect head. She gave a cold metal tit fuck that made me thank god for titanium dirty. Her dirty hands were those of <b>image</b> the perfect artist, shaping me like Michaelangelo in clay. When dirty she was done dirty I was always a marble masterpiece. A spire, honoring the dirty gods of sex dykes. And thereby dirty an alter at dirty which she could robotically worship. She image was dirtydykes perfect with every food dykes and dirtydykes its uses in bed. She was dom, she was slave, she was robot, she was dolly, she was painted canvas, she was a leather biker bitch (if I wanted); she was a conquered or conquering warrior princess, she was a goddess, she was image in suspended animation, she dirty was some strange alien nymphomaniac, she was a rubber and latex slave, she was dirtydykes a brainless beach bunny, she was dirtydykes a rape victim, she dirty was a slut, she was dirtydykes a little school girl image licking a lolly, she was a wind-up toy, she dykes was kinky, she was straight, she liked it when I brought playmates home dirtydykes for her dirtydykes and me dykes, she liked things image in <b>dirtydykes</b> her ass dirty, she dirty drank me like I was fine wine, she sold herself <b>dirty</b> on street corners and gave dirty me the money, she masturbated herself so perfectly I came just watching. She was completely mine. She was the robot fantasy dykes completely realized. She was what <b>dirtydykes</b> she wanted to be. We were living the fantasy. And it was pure hell.... We were damned. <br><img alt="dirty-dykes image" align=left width=118 height=119 src=http://www.wetscape-x.com/dirty-dykes-image-1007_118_119.jpg>     It was funny how I found only loneliness and despair in perfection. The thrill of the fantasy dirty , its dykes novelty, soon wore off. All things lose some "intensity" in time. I had done it all dykes a dozen times. It simply got boring; doing all the thinking <b>dykes</b>, the planning image, the fantasizing dirty and arranging, that we used to do together. It got to be dirtydykes work dykes. An effort. Having to cue every prompt made me more like a dirty stage director than a lover. And <b>image</b> afterwards I missed the warmth of that satisfied dirty cuddle. The simple <b>dirty</b> warmth of her body dirty. A few words or sounds of dirty actual REAL contentment image. Most of the time now, she simply stopped when the dirty program did. Or worse went through dirtydykes the predictable motions I had arranged dirtydykes. Or the limited repertoire of dirtydykes simulated spontaneity. <br><a href="http://www.wetscape-x.com/dirty-dykes/"><img alt="dirty dykes image" align=right width=131 height=190 src=http://www.wetscape-x.com/dirty-dykes-image-1007_131_190.jpg></a>     I couldn't decide which idea dirty was worse. That she was completely gone or dirtydykes that dykes some small dirty part of her was still trapped dirty in there experiencing the same things I was. If she was in there looking out it was worse than any prolonged death. I knew, I was looking dirty in dykes. In my shame. In my pain, in my loneliness. Into her robot corpse dirty. <br><img alt="dirty dykes image" align=right width=103 height=65 src=http://www.wetscape-x.com/dirty-dykes-image-1007_103_65.jpg>     I pumped my hard cock into <b>dirty</b> her perfect dirty pussy. She lubricated perfectly. The muscles between her legs applied the perfect pressure to me so dirty we fitted and felt...perfect together. She kissed me long and deep dirty. Mostly tongue, the way i liked dirty it dykes. We swapped spit. She caressed all the right dirtydykes places perfectly dirtydykes. Her arousal was like that of an animal. Every little motion was perfect. She loved using her tongue dirty. She licked my lips and plunged inside my mouth again. We swapped more sweet spit. Her artificial salivation held step one of my plan. I felt the chemicals begin dirty to dirtydykes affect my thought <b>dirtydykes</b> processes dirty. I felt her warmly dykes release dykes an endorphin laden chemical into her pussy. Step two. She dykes pulled me dirtydykes closer, wrapped her arms and legs around me so image I dirtydykes could barely continue making a motion. The dykes sensuousness of her dykes desperate grasp was dirty intense. The helplessness had been exciting (once). We swapped more spit. I tickled dirtydykes her dykes tonsils. Step three, too late to turn back. I knew I couldn't break her grip now. Not that I cared to. I came to dirty the moment of climax, more an automatic dykes response than sexual one dirty. She came too, but <b>dykes</b> that was hardly a dirty surprise, her timing was always perfect. We climaxed, seizured, thrashed in an choreographed dykes erotic explosion, finally knocking the bed right off its frame. It was sterile, Mechanical, and dirtydykes biological like a chemical reaction more than anything. But still she held dirty me. Close, lovingly, like she would dirtydykes never let go, passionately. A tiny dirtydykes part of me still clung <b>dirtydykes</b> to the delusion dirty. <br><img alt="dirty-dykes image" align=right width=102 height=122 src=http://www.wetscape-x.com/dirty-dykes-image-1007_102_122.jpg>     A dozen needles plunging mercilessly into dirty my manhood to hold me inside her dykes forever. Behold the man dirty. Judgment. Acid fire dirtydykes pumping into me dirtydykes as she took her turn pumping me full. The dirtydykes chemicals blurred my mind. She begins to tell me how I will serve. What my function will <b></b> be. She will not release me. She is merciless. She is the sum of her program. I am ready for robotization dirtydykes. Ready for revenge . Ready to be submerged in a prison dirtydykes of steel. Helpless like she was once. I wonder if my soul dirty will dirtydykes be able dirty to escape this unliving coffin dirtydykes. If I can escape then maybe she too dykes was freed long ago. Somehow dykes this image does not ease my dirty mind <b>image</b>. I do not believe it. I think I know <b>image</b> I have image damned us both dykes to image a soulless steel eternity. But still hope she escaped. I dirtydykes feel her begin to make the alterations, adding hardware, inserting things, giving injections, preparing the program to run. The process is well underway. She pumps me full of all dirty the <b>dirty</b> things I used on her. Irony and steel. Microchips come to life and dirty now unnecessary dirty synapses dirtydykes burn <b></b> out. The dirty smell of burning flesh and fading humanity pervades the dirty room. She will dirtydykes make me dykes like her. She has been dirty programmed. She is everything I hoped she would dykes be, and now I had to pay for making her so perfect <b>dirtydykes</b>. All mad scientists must invariably end the same way. This too dirty is an dykes ironic cliche. A delicious one. <br><a href="http://www.wetscape-x.com/dirty-dykes/"><img alt="dirty dykes image" align=left width=103 height=64 src=http://www.wetscape-x.com/dirty-dykes-image-1007_103_64.jpg></a>     I dirty..do dirtydykes..not dykes..know dirtydykes.. <br> </font></td> </tr> </table> </center>