i care about everyone

but i have yet to know anyone and feel a new caring

a level of caring that was over and above what i feel for all living things


i ache to have a man between my legs

my eyes closed, brows pulled together, face skewed with emotion

rhythmically i slide this inanimate object in and out of myself

but i long for something more

i long for the real thing

for a real man and a real member sliding into me

not this pitiful excuse of an object which i try in vein

to imagine is the real thing

i continue anyways, the pressure of going without has been getting to me

my temper flares and i am easily irratated

for a moment i wonder if i have some gene that only guys are supposed to have

that make me so lustful as i am, so ravenous

that thought is gone quickly though as my fingers begin another technique

i shift my arm and the object i am trying to please myself with hits a new spot


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