An object is always six inches long, sometimes soft and sometimes hard.
Soft like a drunken man falling, hard like a mad monk raging up and down. Entering the female and exiting the male is the essence, the waist and navel are the hometown. Born as twins, always by my side, once fought with a beauty a few times.
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An object is always six inches long, sometimes soft and sometimes hard.
Soft like a drunken man falling, hard like a mad monk raging up and down.
Entering the female and exiting the male is the essence, the waist and navel are the hometown.
Born as twins, always by my side, once fought with a beauty a few times.