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That mass of skin and flesh and nerves and veins and muscles is NOT her. Don’t insult her! Have you seen it? The playful organ on the live web stream was just a simulation. Somebody’s body. Who cares? But that wasn’t her willy. No, not her. She’s been called a philanderer, a ladies’ boy, a hi-tech Casanova. Heartless seducer, resourceful lad, a playboy’s mind in a businessman’s business, she’s persuasive, dynamic, forceful. Hundreds of women have climaxed by virtue of her manly skills. But she doesn’t have a willy. Don’t get her wrong. Some women go for her hairy chest and gay men find her irresistible. They’re all enticed by her seductive accounts of her massive member, her reported vigour and strength, her undeniable flair for foreplay. Hundreds of women (and quite a few men) have reached orgasm by virtue of her typing skills. Her speech is full of bluff and laddish tricks. That man is her. But she doesn’t have a willy. That mass of cloth and wires and springs and foam and rubber is NOT her. Don’t insult her! She’s no gadget. She is the mind in control, incisive, analytic, clear head, purposeful spirit. On top. She wears the trousers, which do not hide a willy, by the way. Hers was a timely bargain in the sales of e-commerce: “a man without a penis”. That is her. Why would she want a silly capricious, stubborn, childish, tacky willy. Why would she want it? Tell me. She’s no cunt!
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