3 comments/ 40044 views/ 3 favorites Addict By: Exakta66 As the eighties were coming to a close, Rich and I were enjoying our new-found prosperity on a grand scale. Rich had also become quite smitten by Lauren. They were going steady. It was probably the first time Rich had a steady girlfriend in his life. It is amazing how a girl like that can have an effect on a guy. I had gotten together with Lauren a couple of times after the incident at Lolas, and maybe I'll tell you about it sometime. We both thought it best we ended that, though. Lauren was as serious about Rich as he was about her and of course I was engaged to Kim by this time. So we all had a lot at stake. You might say the stakes were never higher. Kim and I were quite the ideal couple in many ways. We both shared a lot in common. We both liked to go out to see rock bands. We both liked to try new restaurants. It is hard to imagine she would turn into such a boring housewife twenty years later. At this time though, she was really my closest friend. Her and Rich, of course. I thought I knew everything about her, since we spent so much time together. So, you can imagine my surprise when she told me about her old friend from high school. "My friend Kate is coming to town next week." She casually mentioned. "Oh." That was about as much excitement as I could muster at the news. "She was my best friend back in high school." She added. "Oh, that's nice." I was just so excited. "I want you to be nice to her. She is having some problems." She said flatly, "I want you to be understanding." "You know me baby. Understanding is my middle name." I stated with assurance, "What kind of problems?" "She is an addict." She said in a serious tone. I thought about that one. That didn't seem to be a problem. I mean, half my friends take the train to work because they lost their licenses from DUI convictions and frankly I have had my own problems in the distant past. "Girl, you know I have no problem with that." I said in a compassionate tone, "What is her problem, drugs, alcohol?" "No, she belongs to SLAA." She said flatly. "SLAA?" I asked quizzically. "Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous. She is a sex addict." I had to pause and take this in slowly. I repeated the words in my head a couple of times. Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous. Hmmm...I had heard something about sex addiction in a Playboy issue or something and some of my friends made some jokes but I have never actually met one. My mind started to race. "I expect you to be nice to her. She really is having a hard time right now." She stated, "She is really quite vulnerable." "You know I am always nice to your friends." I added cautiously. OK, maybe I was stretching the truth here. I have just never been told that my girl's best friend is a sex addict before. "When do I get to meet her?" I asked carefully. "Why are you so interested in my friends all of a sudden?" She cornered. "I've, I've always been interested in your friends." She knew I was lying here. "Is it because I told you she is a sex addict?" She asked as if she did not already know the answer. "No, of course not. I just think now that we are engaged I should meet your friends, that's all." "Yea, right." She said, almost in disgust. All right, I knew I didn't always take an interest in her friends. I just can't recall her ever telling me she had a best friend who was a sex addict. "So, tell me more about this sex addiction thing. I mean, is it serious?" I was ready to get serious and I haven't even met the girl. "Well, I guess it could be." She started, "It's just that she has sex a lot to make herself feel better. It sort of numbs her pain. It's so easy for her since she is such a beautiful girl." "I see." Man, I was starting to feel a rush of blood surging to my head. It was not the head on my shoulders. I think I started muttering something more about really caring about her friends followed by a bunch of sweet talk. I knew I had to tread lightly here. The next few days all I could think about was this girl named Kate who I had yet to meet. All I knew was she was my fiancé's best friend, she was beautiful and she was a sex addict. What more did I need to know, I asked myself? Finally the day arrived when Kate would come over. "Are you sure Kate doesn't need to be picked up at the airport?" I asked cautiously. "No, she is taking a taxi." Kim said sternly, "Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?" "I'm always nice, Baby. You know that." It's times like this I wished I really was nice. Now I just have to fake it the best I can. A couple of hours later the doorbell rang. "I'll get it, Baby." I practically ran to the door. I opened the door. Standing before me was one of the hottest looking girls I have ever seen. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes and her short skirt looked like it was painted on her voluptuous hips. "Ah, um, you must be Kate." I stammered. "Yes, you must be Alan." She smiled as she spoke. I let her in and the three of us made small talk. Kim poured us all wine as we sat in the living room. I tried not to be too obvious in asking questions about Kate's past relationships or asking if she currently had a boyfriend, but it was hard. Oh, was it hard. I was sitting next to Kate on the sofa and Kim was sitting across from me. After a while of drinking wine and making small talk, Kate tearfully started to talk about a recent affair she had back home. I somehow felt the natural instinct to console her. I wanted to reach over and put my arm around her but she beat me to it. Moments later I found myself with this hot looking sex addict crying on my shoulder. "All men are animals!" She screamed and started sobbing, "They are all no good." I put my arm around her and tried to console her. "There, there now. It's not so bad. I'm sure you'll find the right one." I said in an effort to make the poor girl feel better. I was getting piercing stares from Kim. You know the expression about if looks can kill. I should have been very dead. "Kim, you are so lucky to have a man like Alan." Kate sobbed. "Oh, I count my blessings every day." She said as she stared at me intently. I felt a growing tightness in my jeans for some strange reason. Something to do with a hot looking sex addict crying on my shoulder and telling my fiancé how lucky she was to have me. Suddenly, I felt a hand reach down between my legs. "And he is so cute too." She giggled. The next thing I knew Kate had unfastened my pants and gave my tool some breathing room. She must have decided my tool needed polishing as she then went down on it and started to give it a real spit shine. "You're not just going to sit there and give us dirty looks, now are you?" I asked Kim. "Oh, you are the worst." She said. "Yea, but you love me don't you?" I laughed. Kim came over and the next thing I knew the three of us were naked on the sofa. There was so much moaning and groaning and sucking and fucking I hardly know where to begin. The girls were nice enough to put on a little show for me. Kim ate Kate like a pro. I had no idea she could eat pussy like that. It was obvious these girls really were best friends in high school. Kate was soon panting like a woman possessed. I took my turn eating at the Y and she was soon re-possessed. The girls took turns coating my shaft with saliva as one worked one side with her tongue and the other took the other side. I soon felt the need to explode my load in the air as it landed on the faces of these two beautiful young women. The girls took turns cleaning my love juices off each other with their ever-eager tongues. In a few minutes my shaft returned to active duty, ready to join in the festivities. It was soon decided that Kim should get some pleasure and after a bit of finger magic on my part while Kate liked her clit, she was ready for entry. With me seated on the sofa and Kim facing away from me, she gently guided her dripping pussy onto my shaft of steel. Kate stood up on the sofa cushions and with her hands on the back of the sofa for support, presented her womanhood once again for my dining pleasure. After a few minutes of what can only be described as a moaning munch-fest, three bodies were coming together in unison as Kim's pussy threatened to squeeze the life out of my member and Kate pressed her delicious pussy hard into my face, threatening to drown me as she came. It was ecstasy. The three of us soon regained our composure and spent the rest of the evening sipping wine and chatting. Kate had to return home a couple of days later and I never did see her again. I am sure she did find someone. I have a feeling she made some man very happy. Kim and I got married not long after, and the rest as they say is history. Addict copyright @ Shuttlepilot all rights reserved, 2012 Frank entered the dimly lit room and sat down, the waste basket between his legs. He slipped the latex glove onto his left hand, opened the Vaseline, ran his fingers inside the plastic tub and waited. She came into the room and lay on the bed, followed by her young lover. It had been a week since Frank had seen her naked and he noticed there was a new tattoo on the small of her back. He couldn't quite make it out but he thought it made her look sluttier than he knew she already was. He looked closely and noticed there was a gold nipple ring, also, and wondered who had convinced her to further degrade herself. The man with her held his cock to her mouth and she began to lick its head, finally opening her lips and taking it inside. Frank began to stroke himself, the latex glove moving easily with the Vaseline over his erection. It seemed it was the only way he became hard, these days, and for a moment, an angry frown crossed his face. She had rolled over onto her hands and knees and the man slowly, then more rapidly, pushed his cock into her pussy and she began to moan as he smacked her. "Uh... uh... uh... uh..." was all Frank heard as he felt his own tension start. He slowed his own stroking, trying to stretch it out and almost stopped. She, for her part, winked, and now had her lover's cock entering her ass and that was enough for Frank to spew into the waste basket, his hand moving so quickly he moaned, himself. He sat there, for a while, waiting for his breathing to return to normal, as she continued to fuck the man, pushing back against him. Frank reached out and turned the computer off, finished for the night, plunging the room into darkness. ***** The next morning, he went downstairs to breakfast. Maria had fixed his usual: two Eggos and some jam, strawberry this time, a glass of milk, a cup of tea and his morning medications, the main one being Risperidone. The damned drug had killed his desire for her to the point that lately, he didn't want her to touch him. Last night had been the worst. He tried to be considerate... if that was the right word and spooned against her but when his wife reached back and began to hold him, stroking him, he took her hand away and rolled to the other side of the bed. He hated himself for what he had done to her but what could he do? Maria had gone with him to his neurologist. He wished he had his old one but he had retired, leaving the practice to his partner. Now... that woman was strange, Frank thought. Her Goth attire had been bad enough but when she told Maria he had a chemical imbalance of the brain... that's what she had called it, a chemical imbalance of the brain. Doctor Humbrol had spoken directly to Maria, ignoring him like he was a five-year-old child. He admitted to himself that he had been having problems and for some reason, had now been diagnosed with Tourette syndrome. In his case, it was causing facial tics and stuttering. Damn it! He had made his living speaking to groups, mostly university seminars and now, if this couldn't be controlled, he was done... at least, with the public part of it. He still could write, he supposed, but the drug also had taken away his enthusiasm by making him drowsy. Later that day, they had gone to see his cardiologist for his six month checkup. Following his bypass surgery, the statins Doctor Smilder had prescribed for his cholesterol was causing his ED. His cholesterol levels were perfect but at what cost? He hated his life. What if the levels were too high? What Frank didn't understand, though, was how he was able to pleasure himself watching the internet porn that gave him his only relief. Maybe, he thought, it was because he was slouching down on the chair and the blood pressure was just right. Having sex with his wife the way she liked it required him to either stand at the edge of the bed or kneel behind her as he took her. Ever since the heart operation five years earlier, though, he had problems. She had decided that sex was too strenuous for him, saying that he could have a heart attack even though the doctor had said that was highly unlikely. Five years with no sex... well, that wasn't quite true... no intercourse... she got plenty of orgasms as he licked and kissed her there. And now... this. It was just too damn much and he was sick of it. Between her refusals and now the new drugs, he felt worse than any time in his life. Like any man, he wasn't going to take it lying down and went to see his general practitioner. Doctor Staciarly was surprisingly helpful, giving his a handful of samples of Cialis. She told him about the drug company's free 30 day offer and wrote out his prescription for them. "I think these might help you," she said. "I appreciate that," he replied, "but that doesn't help me with actually wanting to do it." "What do you mean?" she asked, now worried at his response. "It's simple. I just don't feel like doing it." "At all?" "No, just with her... I, uh, well... I can masturbate using the internet but with her..." He refused to mention how lately he had begun watching black girls on the site... the last forbidden subject. "Tomorrow, bring in your medications. Something's not right and I want to test them. I think maybe you're getting something other than what you should." "All right, thanks. You have no idea how much this is bothering me... and her, I know. I don't know how much longer we can continue, like this. I love her so much but what can I do?" "I'll see you tomorrow," she said. He promised to return the next day and left for home. As he entered the house, his wife greeted him with a warm, loving kiss. "I missed you," she said, taking his coat and putting it away. "Dinner's almost ready. Were you able to get what you wanted from the hobby store?" He had never lied to his wife before but there was no way he was going to tell her he had gone to see the doctor. Their lives had revolved around doctor after doctor after doctor and he could see the stress on her face each time they went to another one. Getting older was no fun. The next day, he went to see Doctor Staciarly again. "Each of these drugs, by themselves, is fine and does what it's supposed to," she began, "but when you start taking them together, the effects multiply beyond what we want. I will do the best I can but I have to speak with your other doctors, first." "Thank you," he said and hoped that she would be able to do something for him. As each day progressed, he felt worse and worse. Frank went to see his new psychologist. The woman was pleasant looking and had enough degrees hanging on her wall to impress even him. "Well, Frank, after listening to everything, I think that part of your problem is that you resent what your wife did... cutting you off from sex for five years and now, the drug changes haven't done you any favors." "Hidden resentment... I suppose that's possible. But, what do I do about it?" "Have you spoken to your wife about it?" "It was more like a yelling... and the Cialis worked just fine at first... until these new drugs... and now, I'm back where I started... actually, worse." "Frank, I think a lot of it is psychological... yes, I know, strange coming from a psychologist..." she laughed. "But, since you're able to have an erection and climax with the internet, there's nothing wrong with your physical situation. We have to work on what these new drugs are doing to your mind and try and get around it." That night I spent fifteen minutes with a beautiful curly-headed black girl with the cutest face I'd ever seen. When I was finished, I shut off the computer and went to bed, feeling better and not feeling better. The next morning, I awoke to aching muscles and joints and was very, very thirsty. I called Doctor Staciarly and was given an immediate appointment. "I'm going to reduce your prescriptions. Here, take this pill cutter with you and just do it that way... so you don't have to pay for new meds. I want you to double your dosage of Cialis, to 10 mg. a day. I want you to take it early in the morning so that you're good for the entire day or do you want to have sex in the evening?" "I just want to have a normal life, Doctor, that's all." "Fine. Then take them every day in the late afternoon. I want to see you, Friday. In the meantime, I'm going to call your other doctors and see what they have to say about it." "Thanks, Doctor. This is driving me crazy." ... ... ... ... I went home that day and when the early evening approached, I dutifully took two Cialis, hoping for some improvement. That night, nothing really changed but the next morning, I decided to actually read what was necessary to make the drug work effectively. To my surprise, I found that manual stimulation was required. In other words, I had to jack myself hard before having sex. I started to laugh, figuring I could do that or Maria could definitely do that. The next afternoon, I took two more pills and decided to see if enough had built up in my system to give me some kind of relief. ... ... ... All be damned, I thought, as I pushed myself into Maria "doggie-style" and began a rhythm that brought a swelling to my cock and I could feel myself getting to a much longed for and expected orgasm. For a while, I thought I had lost my erection, feeling my mind drift in my own insecurities but then I gazed down at her so wonderful ass as I pounded into her from behind. I felt myself getting there and for the first time in months, I felt good about myself as I erupted into her. I resolved to thank Doctor Staciarly the next morning as soon as her office opened and as I lay on the bed beside my wife, I ran my hand up and down her back from her shoulders to the bottom of her waist. I kissed her below and behind her ear for I knew that made her feel oh so good and she gave me a smile I hadn't seen in such a long time. "I love you," I said, quietly. She smiled and just said, "Welcome home." Addicted I knew I was addicted. I knew it was wrong. I knew that it was dangerous. But when I was horny I just didn't care. I needed to be used. I needed to be used hard. I needed to switch off my brain, to switch off my controlling personality. I needed to switch it off and live instead through my body. And my body craved sweat and dirt and pain and cum. My body betrayed me as the slut that I am. I knew as I drove home from my office job that I wouldn't be turning into the underground parking at my condo. I knew that I would keep driving until I found satisfaction. I didn't have a particular place in mind. I just knew that I would drive to another town and then give myself away. As I left the city limits I reached under my dressy little jacket and pinched my nipple through my bra. I kept right on pinching and turned slowly to the car beside me. No luck, the guy didn't even notice. If he only knew how his life could have been different! I let go of my nipple and took a handful of my small breast. I slowly squeezed the whole thing until the pressure was almost too much, then I twisted and squeezed some more. I was just beginning. I licked my lips as my breathing got heavier. I knew I was going to go through with it. I wasn't going to chicken out. I only give in to this addiction once or twice a year—when it becomes too much to resist. I know that each time I am jeopardizing my career and the life that I have built up for myself, but I just can't help it. I don't know how to explain it, but it keeps me sane. I let go of my breast, grabbed the lapel of my jacket and also my blouse and I pulled hard. Buttons flew. My bra was open for any to see. I moved from the middle to the slow lane. I was getting too excited to drive. But I also wanted to prolong this time. Now that I knew I was going to let my self go, I wanted to savor the last vestiges of control. I wanted to languish in giving myself away. I grabbed my bra and yanked down. The straps hurt my shoulders but my firm breasts spilled free. I stuck my thumb and two fingers in my mouth—imagining it to be a cock. I slobbered over them and then twisted my saliva into my nipples. I felt myself slide forward on the car seat. I was trying to get some pressure on my cunt by getting my panties to ride up. It wasn't enough, but for now it served to keep my arousal simmering as I drove away from home. From past experience I knew where this would end up. What I didn't know was the path that I would take to get to the bottom. This was maybe my fifth or sixth time doing this over the past few years. Once I hit thirty and was still single I just decided to give in and do what I wanted. It always ended with me feeling hurt and scared, guilty and even a little foolish. But while I was falling I felt so alive. I knew this time would be the same. I would get progressively more daring and slutty. I would go to dangerous places, and above all I would follow my one rule, the one constant in each of these outings: no matter what, and I mean no matter what, obey everyone. I know this path may get me killed, either outright or by catching some disease, but I am addicted to it. I am addicted to the rush, to the feeling that my entire being centers on my uterus as it orgasms, and orgasming through the danger, because of the danger. My hand was back in my mouth. I pushed two fingers down my throat until I gagged. I trailed the slime out, along my neck and back to my breasts. My hips were thrusting as I tried to generate more pressure on my clit. I had to pull over. I made it to the shoulder of the freeway. I was about fifteen minutes outside of my hometown. I had much more distance to travel tonight, but I needed another little flash. The man in the car didn't see me pinch my nipples. My next stunt would be a little more daring, and I knew I would keep upping the ante until I got caught. With the car stopped I reclined the seat all the way back. I kicked off my pumps and placed my stockinged feet on the dash. I knew what my next stunt would be. I would do what I call a "two hundred". A two hundred means that I would plunge my fingers deep into my pussy two hundred times—and I would not stop for any reason. If anyone approached I would continue until I finished. I reached up and pinched both of my exposed nipples, sending a jolt to my pussy. With that I began. I pushed my fingers in without removing my panties or hose. I pushed the material inside me as deep as I could. With my other hand I alternatively deep-throated my fingers and coated my breasts with saliva. My toes curled along the dash. I could here cars go by and I could see the reflections of headlights on my shiny hose. When I got to fifty I had my first orgasm. I shoved my fingers inside me and kept them there through my throes. My other hand was pushing itself down my throat. I came hard, and I should tell you, I am a squirter. As I came liquid gushed out of my pussy and splattered up into my panties and hose, running up my back as I kicked my legs higher, my feet on the ceiling. I resumed my two hundred after the orgasm. Now I was rushing, my desire ebbing in the aftermath of my come. The liquid pooled on the leather seat. I could feel it squishing in the small of my back. My slick panties and hose rubbed uncomfortably along my sensitive labia. As I approached one hundred I had a wicked thought. I reached under my hose and grabbed the front of the thong panties that I was wearing. I could feel the liquid squeeze out as I pulled up, harder, harder until they gave way with a snap. The straps dug a little into my hips but I didn't care. I brought the panties up to my mouth and stuffed them in. They tasted like sex. I wanted more so I turned around and put my face directly on the seat with my belly button on the headrest and my knees on the back seat, baring my ass to the world. I wanted to keep my hose for now so I pulled them back up, reached between my legs and started the next hundred. My face was inhaling my musk from the seat—a combination of come and sweat. I stuck my tongue out around the thong and licked the leather. Now the headlight illuminated my ass as my fingers pumped my pantyhose inside of me. Would I make it through the next one hundred without anyone approaching? I didn't know. But I was already at twenty and no one had stopped so far. I pumped slowly, drawing out the hundred, increasing the chances of getting caught. I think part of me slowed down because I knew I wasn't going to get caught yet. I was cheating in a strange way. I picked up the pace and finished the second hundred. As I rolled back over I could feel the sweat and sin on my chin. My body felt alive, and I had passed the first little test. I did it again. I put myself out there. Had anyone stopped I would have been there's. I felt pleased that I didn't chicken out, that I took to another level. My mind hadn't totally given up control yet, but I was glad that it was taking a back seat. I slipped my pumps back on, raised the seat back and merged back into traffic. I was happy to get a little further away from home. My breasts were still slightly exposed. My blouse had lost the top half of its buttons, and my jacket only had one button left. No one would notice from a distance, but any one close up would see my pert breasts highlighted by the bra that sat useless, pulled down across the top of my abdomen. I kept my panties in my mouth, leaving a one of the strings dangling down my chin. I was ready for the next test. Author's note: If this character strikes a chord within you, please let me know. I find pleasure in exploring what we usually keep hidden. kurious