Many Trains, One Station

It's not that she really liked to run a train,
or had some desire to be with all these men with a sprinkle of women; let alone all at once.
But it was the variety that made her do it and the attention.
Multiple hands, mouths and fingers all touching, sucking and feasting on her body.
Like she was the only thing that could satiate their hunger.
Feed the need. Hers and theirs.
There were moments in between when she could actually tell the difference between the last one and the current one filling her void.
Her many voids.
Some tickled her insides.
Some hurt to have.
Some she didn't even realize were there.
Some went in high, some stayed low, both orifices were options.
Different shapes sizes and colors; it didn't matter, same outcome.
Temporary empty joy.
(E.D. 2020)