"I deeply deeply respect you, Marsha." All

"I deeply deeply respect you, Marsha." All was well until my alien eye syndrome caused my left eye to wander, spiraling like a moth towards what inflamed me, her ample décolleté.

"You're busted, buddy," Marsha cried, "And I deeply, deeply resent you.Your alien eye revealed the double boob that you are." I'd nothing to lose @ this point so milking it for all

d the steering wheel but my alien left hand grabbed Marsha's right breast. She looked unimpressed. "I'm afraid that you've failed your driving test due to not keeping both hands on

my chest!" Marsha smiled. She was more than a driving instructor. I put my right hand on her other breast. Maybe having an alien left hand had its benefits. Then my alien hand slap

-dashed the sweater it was knitting and forgot to add a third sleeve. My right hand and alien hand would be clothed, but what of my phantom hand? Marsha's phantom breast implants

were size 36AAA, which meant that she would need to be recharged soon. My phantom hand could do it. I would have to use my upper left robotic arm to assmilate her

to the electric charges that would travel from my heart generator, up my arm, through my my hand, and to her breast, reenergizing her body. She was an old 2152 model and needed

a strong jolt to the polo tenancy auto correct before correlating many misfired grunge on fount avenue boulle shire crumbling disgruntled minions of cracker sorry platitudesReally

mother fucked up a lamb east side of masturbate street phones will definitely replace video games at least for the ignorant ones up on a time. Then I threw my phone into the sewer.