Short Hair Teen Masturbation

Short Hair Teen Masturbation




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May is National Masturbation Month, and we're celebrating with Feeling Yourself, a series exploring the finer points of self-pleasure.
Masturbating, like ice cream, comes in many different flavors.
Since getting off doesn't require another person, the possibilities of where, when, and how you do it are seemingly endless. Sometimes it's an unexpected endeavor and other times it's a planned event.
The good thing is is that you get to be in control of your own nut, and — with a few exceptions like work and social acceptance — you can get it whenever you want. Even if you have a partner, sometimes it's just better to take matters into your own hand.
Without further adieu, here are some various forms of masturbation:
Sometimes, Netflix gets stale and all that's left to do is chill. And by chill I mean masturbate. On those occasions when the Instagram Explore page is no longer worth scrolling, explore yourself instead.
Turn your phone off and get off. Credit: Getty Images / PhotoAlto/Odilon Dimier
This is the kind of masturbation that happens on a whim. One moment you're watching Killing Eve, and the next you're humping the couch. Nothing in particular spurs the sudden moment of horniness, but once it's arisen, it's got to be dealt with.
Well, I guess it's time. Credit: Getty Images / EyeEm
Perhaps one of the best atmospheres for fondling oneself is in an empty apartment or house. You can be as loud and unabashed as you want.
Ah yes, the perfect opportunity to , uh, juggle your fruit Credit: Getty Images / fluxfactory
Having roommates is a total ball buster when you're trying to bust your balls. They don't need to stop you from pleasuring yourself, though. Just tell them you're taking a nap. Or use the old sock-on-the-doorknob trick. Getting your nut while the roomies are in the next room can be stressful, but it doesn't mean it's impossible.
Get out! Leave! Right now! Credit: Getty Images / yacobchuk
According to Planned Parenthood, masturbating can be a huge stress reliever. While it might be difficult to get in the mood while you're having a panic attack, it may help extinguish said panic. Big test? Masturbate! Job interview? Masturbate!
No idea what she's doing under the table but it definitely feels anxious. Credit: Getty Images / Tom Fullum
With the rise of legal weed, it's no surprise that many indulge in masturbating while stoned. According to Vice, there's strong evidence that cannabis does indeed make for a more powerful orgasm. So puff, puff, pass-turbate.
Alexa, order me some CBD lube, please. Credit: Getty Images / EyeEm Premium
If your partner is down, masturbating mutually can be an exciting experience. It gives both parties a chance to show off how they tickle their pickles. Plus, it could bring you and your partner closer— literally. Like the Beatles once said: "Come together, right now!"
It takes two! Credit: Getty Images / Portra images
Why settle for a glass of warm milk when you could just get off instead? Nothing inspires a night of delicious dreaming like an orgasm before dozing off.
Masturbating > melatonin Credit: Getty Images / Colin Anderson Productions pty ltd
Masturbating first thing in the morning can be choice, especially after having a particularly spicy dream.
It's time! To masturbate. Credit: Getty Images / YakobchukOlena
Given the wet and private nature of showers, they're a reliable spot for masturbating. And you don't need to worry about clogging your pipes with semen. That, my friends, is just a college campus-birthed myth. Also, soap is NOT a lube.
Kill two birds with one shower. Credit: Getty Images / MilanMarkovic
So, what're you waiting for? Turn yourself on and get yourself off. Give yourself a hand. You deserve it.
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Booth at Video Lovers. (David Covucci)
Underneath the Gowanus Expressway, in an area generously included in Sunset Park but really not much more than a detritus-strewn, completely forgotten, and rarely traversed stretch of 3rd Avenue, sit a curious collection of shops, glass windows and brick walls routinely rattled as 18-wheelers hurtle by just 10 feet above. Along on a stretch between 39th and 24th Streets, there are eight of these shops, a rate of nearly one per block. Sunset Video, Video City, Candy Hookah Love, Golden DVD—the names are different, but they're all the same inside.
They're sex shops, like the ones you could once find in Times Square. The kind that advertise private viewing booths for when the laptop is busted and the WiFi is out and the lock on your bedroom is broken and the bathroom is in use and your imagination is unable to conjure up anything and… you get what I'm getting at.
Who the hell uses these things in 2016?
More importantly, how do these places, with a clearly dying business model, sustain themselves? And why did they all wind up so close together?
I spent a week trying to figure it all out.
It's a matter of zoning: In 1998, when the city's new regulations for adult shops went into effect, the businesses were banned from residential areas. This sent many of the shops in Manhattan to areas zoned for commercial and manufacturing, including this part of Sunset Park. There were a number of strip clubs not far off—most of which are now gone—so they had a bit of a seedy community thing going on.
Many of the shops are owned by immigrants from Sri Lanka. Indeed, two stores include Sinhalese in their names. The clerks, too, when I went, were almost exclusively of Sri Lankan descent. The largest Sri Lankan population in the city is in Staten Island, which makes for a quick commute back and forth over the Verrazano.
The owners are elusive: I figured this wasn't like walking into a Starbucks with the expectation of seeing Howard Schultz. These are small, independent businesses, and you'd think at one point in seven days, making regular visits, you'd have one encounter with the head honcho.
But in trips to all of them, talking to dozens of counter workers, not a single one professed to know the owner. The answers ranged from the plausible, "This is my first day," to the laughable. "This is my first day," said the same employee the next day when I popped in.
"He'll be here at 10 tonight," a clerk at Jayoda Video told me on a Monday morning. When I arrived that night, another said he always came in at "10 a.m." The next morning, the clerk from the previous day said he was there last night.
One shop was closed at the appointed hour I was set to meet the owner, despite a sign attesting to its 24-hour nature. On my third trip, the clerk at Golden DVD ("best prices in 3rd Avenue"), said the owner had "just" told him the shop was going out of business "tomorrow," after two days of my hectoring him. It's still open, though I wouldn't be shocked if it did close tomorrow.
With the redevelopment of this area of Sunset Park, these businesses may all soon be gone.
In 2000, when streaming video and online purchasing didn't exist, people couldn't get their porn any other way. The technological innovations of the past 15 years have obviously not been kind to the adult video store industry. At almost every shop, the people I spoke to said they averaged fewer than five paying customers a day. Whether changing hands to avoid paying taxes or rent, or rebranding to be more appealing, the businesses constantly turn over. What was Blue Door Video in 2005 is now Video City. Nilwala Video in 2011 became Candy Hookah Love, with the exact same signage and colors, just a different name.
Customers are few and far between. In the eight shops I visited over seven days, I saw scarcely more than 30 patrons total. I never saw more than one person in a store at a time. Only once did I see a patron make a purchase—a lone DVD at Video City.
The customers aren't in the mood to talk: "I don't know anything about that," said one man, when I asked him why he had just been in a private booth, as he waved me off. "I don't know anything about them." Not a strange reaction, really.
Speaking of those booths: They are always "out of order," though nothing seems to be broken. When I asked about the booths in the back, how many people used them, or how they worked, I almost always got the same answer. While each store has a sign out front explicitly advertising booths, the clerks all denied the booths were there. At one shop, after being told there were no booths, I walked back to see the booths, then returned to the counter and said, "I thought said you didn't have them." The clerk continued to forcefully deny they existed. That may have been because because the booths have a reputation as a spot where people can very discretely hook up. I must have seemed like a horny 16-year-old, inquiring whether this was where I get the sex.
After a while you start feeling like the pervert: At Sunset Video, when I asked why anyone would still use a public-private masturbation booth like that, one clerk said maybe people can't do it at home. What had initially struck me as odd (why leave your house to masturbate?) made a lot more sense. If you have a family or share a room with someone, you can't exactly come right home and have a quick jank to calm yourself down, like us single masturbators like to do. Swinging by one of these shops isn't that odd a thing to do if it’s your only chance to rub one out in peace.
You might even think it's strange that other people have moved away from this model of self-gratification. If you masturbated for the longest time in the privacy of a locked room far away from family and roommates, in a spot where no one bothers you, why would you switch to using your own device at home. Why risk dirtying your computer when someone else's screen will do?
What's to be ashamed of? Indeed, the few patrons I saw didn't give me sheepish glances or avert their eyes. The only person who was embarrassed was me. Perhaps there's a lesson in that.
Still, I have no clue how they make rent.
David Covucci is a freelance writer living in Brooklyn.
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