A friend gave me his phone number weeks ago. "Call him. Just call him," chick said. I’d stopped dating. It wasn’t the lads. Well, maybe a little. "Look, I’m over ‘relationships’ for the moment. I just wish to be by myself for awhile. That’s all." My pal shrugged. "Call him," chick said again. I was the youngest of three chicks. Growing up, I’d watched my sisters and their boy companions. Clumsy kisses in the barn. Hands groping, pushed away, greater amount groping. I had dreams, murky pictures in my head. And I’d fumbled with myself some nights, unsatisfied, my fumbling increasing my longing. Like cocks were doing instantly.
Oh, I’d had lots of cocks the last small in number years, enormous ones, small ones. Cocks that were hair-trigger, and cocks that had to be coaxed. Cocks this loved your basic bang, and cocks that desired anything but your basic fucking. And I’d lie in bed afterwards with every one of those cocks (never studs, or men, just cocks), damp, salty, every once in a while fumbling in the dark after they started snoring, and I craved more, less, nothing, everything. I craved something I couldn’t allow to myself. I desired and wanted, but I was afraid.
Format: mp4
Duration: 49:40
Video: 1920×1080, AVC (H.264), 4782kbps
Audio: 116kbps