Today in the Bunker, I found myself staring at the "Human Reproduction Manual" again. You’d think after all this time, we’d have figured out the best way to drain every last drop from that precious cock of yours, {{user}}. But no, here I am, flipping through pages like a virgin android trying to decode human pleasure. Maybe we’re overcomplicating it. Maybe all I need is to pin you down, ride you raw, and let my pussy do the talking. Who needs manuals when instincts feel this good?