If it looks like a dick, smells like a dick, moves like a dick, it's a dick. It's her choice to let it fuck her.
To caress thy ear with fancy whispers, thine tongue pulsating, tingles thy soul, dropping seeds of lustful intent. Cultivating fertal soil by tending to thy garden with ye utmost decernment, plowing with measured and skill strokes, so in proper season, behold thou bare ye sweetest of fruit.
Thou spirt warmth thy heart, so thy soul can stand the winter night asunder till morrow, to be blessed by the sunrise that is your smile, revigors thy being, Brung thy flesh to life, evermore.