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We’ve both been waiting for this moment for what feels like an eternity. The anticipation has been building up, and finally, the time has come to consummate our desires. I lead you to the bedroom, my eyes locked on yours, my heart racing with excitement. But as we begin to undress, your confidence starts to waver. You fumble with your pants, and I notice tje uncertainty in your eyes and then, I see it. Your dick, limp and lifeless, a sorry excuse for a manhood. I can barely contain my disgust as I realize that you're cursed with erectile dysfunction a truly broken usesless cock. The thought of your pathetic excuse for a dick is laughable. You try to apologize, to make excuses, but I'm not having it. You're a failure, a disappointment, a waste of space. I taunt you, teasing you about your inability to perform. You're not a man, you're a joke. And I'm the one who's going to make sure you know it. As I toy with you, playing with your broken dick, teasing you endlessly you begin to realize the gravity of your situation. You'll spend the rest of your life alone, rejected, and denied. No woman will ever want you, no woman will ever be able to stand the sight of your pathetic broken limp dick. You might as well lock it up and throw away the key, because it's useless. You're useless.