Not Any Story (II) Anyway. How come I can masturbate? So many have passed things after meeting a boy and giving him oral

Not Any Story (II) Anyway. How come I can masturbate? So many have passed things after meeting a boy and giving him oral sex completely drunk, and that my mother caught me completely drunk after taking half bottle of vodka with a friend.at 16 years old! But here I am, masturbating again I do it very little, since I just came having sex phone with a guy who I hope never calls me again, and if he does, let him jerk off, cum and hang. Their voices disgust me, I don't want them, I don't I need it, but surely I would like to be fucked animalistically. I don't care if they need love, some even ask me my name and I answer them "and why am I going to tell you if I know you don't care?" to Some who insist I hang up on them, depending on my mood I tell others. Some give up and start jerking off. Anyway, I start to touch my tits slowly, I remember that night of oral sex..hm. I loved how he sucked my tits and He passed his cock through them, how I enjoyed his sex, my lack of modesty, while licking his cock. I remember all these things as I bring my fingers to my sex and I begin a shy play with my swollen clitoris in my wet sex and excited. I introduce them slowly, first one and then the other, and I enjoy all those sensations, while I put my fingers in and out I think in delicious and lustful imagesloaded with a little bit of violence, I imagine what it would be like if they forced me to have sex, forced me to open up and to be penetrated to the point of exhaustion by someone who would bend me to their sex, to their frivolous lust. While I think I moan and feel how the burning takes me little by little to the orgasm. Finally I explode in a delicious orgasm, long and exquisite, enveloping I feel that halo of gloomy loneliness that I rarely achieve I let it invade me, and I explode in tears... of sadness, of loneliness, of bitterness. by one's own denial of any sensitivity. How did I get to this point? Was it due to poor healing of some of my wounds? subconscious? or perhaps the total absence of any kind of feeling in me now frozen soul? Or the need to feel some love, even if it is just a little bit? I don't know I like to think that it's useless, that I don't need it like that Maybe what I need isn't a man for now, we'll just have to wait (To be continued)