1016 aka Shauna Ryan 1016 Live

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A homie gave me his smartphone number weeks ago. "Call him. Just call him," she said. I’d stopped dating. It wasn’t the guys. Well, maybe a little. "Look, I’m over ‘relationships’ for the moment. I just want to be by myself for awhile. That’s all." My homie shrugged. "Call him," she said again. I was the youngest of trio girls. Getting bigger up, I’d observed my sisters and their boy friends. Uncomfortable smooches in the barn. Palms groping, shoveled away, more groping. I had dreams, murky photos in my head. And I’d kneaded with myself some nights, unsatisfied, my fumbling enlargening my longing. Like stiffys were doing now. Oh, I’d had lots of stiffys the last few years, big ones, small ones. stiffys that were hair-trigger, and stiffys that had to be coaxed. stiffys that enjoyed your basic fuck, and stiffys that wished anything but your basic fuck. And I’d lie in couch later with every one of those stiffys (never guys, or men, just cocks), damp, salty, periodically fumbling in the dark after they embarked snoring, and I wished more, less, nothing, everything.