Jully_Lov straddles the plastic man, her eyes closed in pleasure. The fake man is smooth and shiny, its arms and legs rigid as if frozen in place. Its face is a blank expression, lacking any emotion or life. The room is filled with the sound of their bodies slapping together. Jully_Lov straddles the plastic figure, her hands gripping its hard, smooth surface. Its face is emotionless and its body rigid, lacking any warmth or sensation. She rides it with determination, her movements fluid and calculated. The fake man's limbs are jointed and artificial, with painted on muscles that can never truly flex. But in this moment, it serves its purpose for Jully_Lov's pleasure. A mere mannequin, existing only to fulfill her desires. Jully_Lov straddles the fake man, her hands grasping at his stiff plastic torso. She moves rhythmically, her long hair cascading down as she leans in and out of her movement. The fake man's plastic limbs are frozen in an unnatural pose, his expression permanently set in a blank stare. The fluorescent lights above cast a sterile glow on the scene as Jully_Lov's motions become more frantic. The plastic man offers no resistance, no warmth, no response. But she continues, lost in the illusion of passion, the only sound the soft squeak of plastic rubbing against plastic.