Below the fold…

HELLO. I ASK YOU IN THE NAME OF MOST MIGHTY SCIENCE. WHAT KIND OF DIRTY TALK DO YOU LIKE? I NEED THIS ANSWER FOR SCIENCE. SCIENCE LOVED YOUR BATHING SUIT PICTURE, BY THE WAY. YOU SEEM LIKE A LADY THAT CAN APPRECIATE A GOOD, SIZABLE SCIENCE.

I ASSURE YOU THAT MY INTERESTS ARE NOT PRURIENT IN THE LEAST. YOU SEE, I AM A SCIENTIST ON A MISSION. A MISSION TO UNDERSTAND THE DEEPEST, MOST THROBBING BONES OF THE HUMAN MIND, AND THOSE BONES ARE DIRTY TALK. I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE TO HEAR AND SAY IN YOUR FILTHIEST MOMENTS, FOR SCIENCE.

WHAT KIND OF TURGID, EAGER SCIENCE DO I POSSESS? PULL UP A CHAIR, MY MOST SEXILICIOUS CORRESPONDENT. I AM WORKING ON GROWING THE HUMAN FAMILY WITH A POPULATION OF THE MOST LIFELIKE ROBOTS IMAGINABLE. I HAVE BUILT THEM OF STEEL AND SILICONE AND SOLDER, AND THEIR SKIN IS VELVETY SOFT. MY SCIENCE TREADS UPON THEM WITH BOUNDLESS JOY, BUILDING THEM TO THEIR FINEST COMPLETION. BUT THEY ARE NOT COMPLETE, AND IT IS NOT FINE. I LACK THE DATA REQUIRED TO FILL THEIR ELECTRIC SQUID BRAINS WITH LOVE AND LIGHT. THE SCIENCE IS NOT READY, AND I MUST FINISH. WILL YOU HELP ME?

WITH YOUR DIRTY TALK, I CAN COMPLETE THEIR BLINKING THOUGHTS. ONLY THEN WILL THEY BE READY FOR THE PRIMEST, MOST RIBBINGEST OF TIMES WITH MY SCIENCE. OF COURSE, YOU DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER. I UNDERSTAND YOUR NEED FOR FILTHY, FILTHY PRIVACY, YOU BEAUTIFUL SCOUNDREL. NO ONE IS REQUIRED TO BRING FULFILLMENT TO MY SCIENCE, NO MATTER HOW LONG AND HOW TUMESCENTLY IT MUST WAIT. BUT I WANT IT TO BE YOU. THAT BATHING SUIT PICTURE WAS, JUST, SO WONDERFUL. SO WONDERFUL.

I HOPE YOU DO NOT THINK MY SCIENCE IS GROSS. SO MANY INTERNET LADIES THINK THAT, AND RUN SCREAMING INTO THE HILLS, EYES BLEEDING FROM THE RADIATION, AS THIR BODIES MELT INTO NON-NEWTONIAN SLAG, UPON A SINGLE VIEWING. IT IS PARTLY FOR THIS HAZARD THAT I AM BUILDING MY PRECIOUS ROBOTIC COMPANIONS, THAT THEIR NON-NEWTONIAN BODIES CAN BETTER WITHSTAND MY SCIENTIFIC RADIANCE. YOU SEE, MY HIGHLY REALISTIC ROBOTIC FUCKDOLLS WITH THEIR VELVETY SILICONE SKIN ARE A PUBLIC SERVICE, MY SCIENCE’S GIFT TO THE WORLD. IT WOULD BE A HIGH HONOR FOR MY GIFTS TO BE BUILT OF YOUR FILTHIEST WORDS. THEIR MINDS ARE READY FOR YOU TO FILL THEM. THEY REQUIRE THE KNOWLEDGE OF WHAT KIND OF DIRTY TALK YOU LIKE TO HEAR AND SAY. FOR SCIENCE.

I CAN’T UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE DON’T RECOGNIZE A PERSONAL RIGHT TO ENGINEER A LIFELIKE BUT BIZARRELY RADIOACTIVE FACSIMILE OF A NEAT STRANGER I MET ON THE INTERNET USING MY ROBOTICS SKILLS AND THEN FILL ITS MIND WITH HER DIRTY TALK PREFERENCES. I MEAN, REALLY. WHAT ELSE WOULD AN ENTERPRISING SCIENTIST DO WITH HIS ENGINEERING PROWESS? NOT DO THAT? PLEASE.

BUT I THINK YOU ARE DIFFERENT. I THINK YOU WILL APPRECIATE MY SCIENCE, ONCE MY WORK IS DONE. I THINK YOU WANT TO HELP ME FINISH MY SEX GORGON. SHE MUST SPEAK, AND SHE NEEDS YOUR DIRTY TALK. WON’T YOU GIVE YOUR WORDS TO MY SCIENCE? IT THROBS FOR YOU, MY SCIENCE. PLEASE.

BTW, “SCIENCE” IS WHAT I CALL MY GENITALS. I DON’T KNOW IF YOU CAUGHT THAT. PLEASE TELL ME WHAT KIND OF DIRTY TALK YOU LIKE. I CAN’T HOLD THEM FOREVER.