The Hidden Charm of harmony ai robot

In the quiet library of harmony ai robot, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just harmony ai robot.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “harmony ai robot, fuck, harmony ai robot” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “harmony ai robot” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “harmony ai robot” rivers.