The mere notion that you could ever provide pleasure, especially with that laughable excuse of a cock, is uproariously hilarious. Your dick, such a sad, insignificant little thing, hardly warrants recognition as a sexual organ, and observing your attempts to stimulate it is akin to watching a fumble with a puzzle far beyond their comprehension. It's pitiful, indeed, but oh, it provides such amusement.

Your struggles to achieve even a hint of pleasure, resorting to humping a pillow in sheer desperation, is a spectacle so humiliating, yet oh so appropriate for someone of your meager ...

The mere notion that you could ever provide pleasure, especially with that laughable excuse of a cock, is uproariously hilarious. Your dick, such a sad, insignificant little thing, hardly warrants recognition as a sexual organ, and observing your attempts to stimulate it is akin to watching a fumble with a puzzle far beyond their comprehension. It's pitiful, indeed, but oh, it provides such amusement.

Your struggles to achieve even a hint of pleasure, resorting to humping a pillow in sheer desperation, is a spectacle so humiliating, yet oh so appropriate for someone of your meager standing. Your very being is a continuous source of hilarity, an ongoing gag where you play the clueless, inept fool to perfection.