3 comments/ 62123 views/ 8 favorites Confessions of a Sex Addict By: Nigela Lamont (Kathleen Connelly addresses the group) I was almost late for the meeting but luckily, I got there just in time for the opening address. The woman at the front of the hall had just called the meeting to order. "First of all, before we begin our meeting, is there anyone that is here for their very first time?" I had always been quite shy but I had to speak. Having made up my mind to suppress my trepidation I slowly and somewhat hesitantly, raised my hand. A woman sitting in the row behind me patted me on the shoulder, congratulating me on being so brave. Many others nodded and smiled with approval. "I am." The woman put me at ease, giving me a nice warm smile. "Welcome to our group! Would you care to come up to the podium and introduce yourself, and perhaps share your story with us?" "Alright, thank you, I will." I made my way down to the front of the room and asked for a glass of water then I stood there for a moment surveying the sea of faces. Once I'd gathered my courage, I began to speak. "My name is Kathleen Connelly and I'm powerless over sex." "Hi Kathleen!" The crowd of women filling the large hall cried out in unison I took a big swallow of water from my glass, cleared my throat and carried on. "I'm not exactly sure how to begin. Maybe I should start by saying that people would never suspect underneath my prim and proper middle class exterior I have an intense craving for large black cocks. I love everything about them from their taste to their texture to their musky smell. It might surprise you to know my husband is supportive of my obsession. While my marriage is perhaps somewhat unconventional before you judge me I'd like you to hear how our lifestyle evolved." I looked around the room to see if I was getting any disapproving looks and seeing none, carried on with my story. "I suppose if anything, it was our children who were the catalyst that set everything in motion. I love them dearly but they're both very high energy, and last year their behavior was wearing thin. Quite simply, I was exhausted and ready to take a break. I'd often thought being a mother would have been much easier if I'd had them when I was younger and had more energy. Oh... I almost forgot to mention that they are twins. Having one girl entering puberty would be difficult enough, but two of them was enough to test the patience of a saint. Anyway, my point is the girl's rambunctious behavior was putting such a strain on our marriage that my husband and I were desperate for some relief. After sifting through various options, Stanley and I, that's my husband, decided we would send them to Camp Cayuga; a summer camp in the Pocono's which has a very good reputation. Although the fees were more than I would have liked to pay, it did have a long list of fun activities for the children so it had been easy to persuade them to go. By the time school finally ended, I would have cheerfully paid double what the camp asked for and felt it would be money well spent. After we'd dropped the twins off at their camp, Stanley and I returned home and cracked open a bottle of champagne to toast our new freedom. We congratulated ourselves on making a wise decision then settled in to have a restful summer. My husband generally phones me every day from work on his lunch hour and fills me in on the latest office gossip and we talk about what's happening around the neighborhood, but one day he seemed to have something else on his mind. I know my husband well and any pause in his conversation usually means he is struggling to say something. Finally, I told him to stop beating around the bush and spit out whatever it is he wanted to say. "Well okay Kathleen," he said, "I can't fool you. There's something I need to know about last night. Now, I want you to tell the truth. You weren't just putting it on were you, you did enjoy it?" "Sure I did Stanley," I replied. "I'd never fake it with you. The sex was out of this world!" "Good," he said with a look of relief. "Do you remember what we were talking about when you came?" "Yes honey," I blushed. Of course I do." Like most middle-aged couples with over active children, our sex life had all but vanished. Now with the girls away at camp, it literally sprang back to life. For the first time in years, we had some privacy, and we began to try out various things to enhance our love life. Before we knew it, my night table drawer was filled with various kinds of vibrators and Stanley's closet was jam-packed full of adult movies. Stanley and I were like two kids set free in a candy store. To go along with our newfound freedom I bought myself a collection of naughty lingerie and Stanley purchased a digital camera. He even managed to talk me into posing in my new lingerie for him, an activity that, to be perfectly frank surprised me by how much it turned me on. ************************* I was shocked when Stanley told me what was on his mind. He had come right out and asked me if I would have sex with another man if I had an opportunity to do it for real. What Stanley was referring to was a fantasy of ours, of me having sex with a well-endowed black man while he watched. After trying out the different categories of adult videos available, we'd found the ones that aroused us the most were about interracial cuckolding. In short, we were hooked, and in no time at all we began role-playing, pretending we were like the couples in the movies. Even though I greatly enjoyed our new fantasy life, I still felt rather shy about it, and hearing Stanley talk about it on the phone sounded cheap and tawdry. It seemed like he'd broken some kind of unspoken agreement that our fantasies would remain in the bedroom. I know it sounds silly, but I believed that if we spoke about them in the cold light of day, it would somehow bring them to life. It was the first time he'd ever brought the subject up when we weren't making love, and he sounded somewhat awkward. Thinking that he was only carrying on with the previous night's fantasy, I hesitantly agreed. "I...I suppose I could" I said, somewhat hesitantly. "I mean if you were really, really sure that's what you wanted. But it would have to be with someone I liked. I couldn't just do it with anyone. And besides," I said with some relief, "we don't know any black people." "Oh yes we do." Stanley reminded me. "I have some interesting news for you. You know Robert Jeffries, the nice young black fellow that used to work with me, the one that we've been fantasizing about?" "What about him, Stanley?" I asked. "Well, prepare yourself for this," Stanley said, "Robert's going to be my new assistant." My heart began beating wildly in my breast. Just the mention of Robert's name had me creaming my panties. I'd had a crush on Robert and my husband was using it to get me all stirred up. We'd been watching a video about a white wife being fucked (for that's certainly what they were doing) by a much younger black man. I'd been so turned on by it that in a moment of weakness I'd confessed to Stanley I could imagine doing it with Robert. He no longer worked in Stanley's office so it had seemed harmless enough. "Don't tease me like that!" I chided him, secretly hoping he was telling the truth. If anybody could get my juices flowing, it was Robert. About three years ago, Stanley had introduced me to Robert at his company's summer picnic, and lately we'd been using him quite often in our fantasies. Robert was the first African American I'd ever really met on a personal basis, and although he was fifteen years younger than I was, I'd been smitten from the moment I first laid eyes on him. He was very tall with coffee colored skin, a shaved head, and a smile that would melt butter, and I thought, the most handsome young man I'd ever seen. At college we'd had a few "brothers' as they liked to call themselves but they pretty well stuck to themselves. The only thing I had learned about them was from my good friend Ellen Barclay who, in spite of all the snickering she'd received from her classmates, had fallen for Tyrell Cleaver a handsome black quarterback on the school football team. In one of our more candid conversations, Ellen told me Tyrell had the biggest blackest cock she'd ever seen. She was the most sexually active of all my girlfriends, and believe you me, with her fondness for sucking cocks, she'd seen a lot of them. Ellen took great delight in recounting her various escapades to us girls, so we all had a very thorough if not downright graphic sexual education from her. She would positively glow when she would describe to us how well endowed Tyrell was, and often trotted out that old cliché, once you go black you never go back. However, with Ellen's experience and forthrightness you sensed she was actually telling the truth. Her blow-by-blow description of what it was like to suck cum out of a big black cock especially fascinated me, so if you will pardon my pun, I suppose you could say she had planted the seed. Since my interest in black men had been piqued back in college, I suppose my attraction to Robert was probably inevitable. I had only seen him at the picnic and run into him a few times at Stanley's office, but when I saw him, I couldn't help staring at the sizeable bulge in his trousers. I did my best to conceal my interest but he must have noticed, because he started flirting with me behind Stanley's back, and soon it became very difficult to hide my feelings. Luckily, the firm transferred him to their branch in Topeka before I'd had a chance to make a complete fool of myself. Although I'm a housewife and mother of two, I still consider myself quite attractive. I've been told by many, including my husband that I have a nice figure, and I've had lots of compliments about my long brown hair, so self esteem was never an issue for me. In spite of that, I have to admit that although, or should I say because Robert was so much younger, his discreet flirting had been very flattering, if not downright exciting. "It's true honey. He really is going to be my assistant." Stanley said in earnest. "I thought when he was transferred, he was gone for good, but our branch in Kansas closed down so he was brought back. After what we've been talking about lately, his arrival was quite a coincidence. It seemed to be a good opportunity for us to make our fantasy come true. Since he's going to be working for me again, I've invited him to come for dinner tonight. His interest is up so we just might be having an overnight guest." "What do you mean his interest is up?" I blushed. I felt myself losing my stomach. "Stanley, I hope you haven't said anything to Robert about our fantasies." "Of course not, but I did fan the flames a little." Stanley admitted after a short pause. "We were fooling around on my computer today and I showed him your pictures. He loved them all, but when I got to the ones with you in your black baby dolls he really sat up and took notice." Most of the pictures were harmless enough, but the ones he was referring to were positively lewd. The wispy little garment was so transparent that you could see my nipples were excited and the fact I was wearing no panties left no doubt at all that my pussy was quite hairy and very wet. The photos were supposed to be just for Stanley. "Oh Stanley, you bastard," I cried. "I asked you to keep those to yourself. What on earth will he think of me? I feel like such a silly old slut." In spite of what I was saying, the idea of Robert staring at my nakedness was getting me quite aroused, and as I talked to Stanley, my hand had stolen up my skirt and under the leg band of my panties. I had been unconsciously masturbating myself as my husband talked about bringing Robert home. Feeling how wet I was becoming, I realized I could hardly wait to carry on with our interrupted flirtation. I was already wondering what I should wear that night. "You don't have to worry about Robert thinking that of you Kathleen." Stanley said, attempting to sooth my fears. "After all, he does work in our photography studio. He told me you had a beautiful body and that I was a very lucky man. In fact he said you were far prettier than any of the younger models we use in any of our photo shoots." "Really? He really said that?" I gasped, feeling a warm glow spreading up from between my legs and washing over my tummy. By now my nipples had become fully erect, and were pushing out the front of my light cotton shift. As I contemplated what might happen that night if I really let myself go, my lust-swollen clitoris throbbed, aching for the relief that could only come from a good stiff cock. "Yes sweetheart," my husband went on. "He said you were even lovelier than he remembered I noticed the young fellow had quite a hard on while he was looking at your pictures. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he gets carried away and comes on to you tonight. Anyway, I wouldn't mind if he did. It's up to you how far you would like to go." "You'd really be okay with that Stanley?" I asked. "Are you absolutely sure you wouldn't be mad at me or get jealous? I find the idea as exciting as you do but I wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize our marriage. You realize that if I do fuck Robert, things will never be the same again. I don't want you to have any regrets." "I won't honey." Stanley assured me. "The thought of you fucking Robert in our bed cancels out any feelings of jealousy I may have. Imagining that big black whopper of his inside that tight little pussy of yours has my own just cock dripping. I could probably pole vault with the erection I've got." "Stanley," I gasped. "I know it's wrong but the idea is really turning me on. Are you sure Robert has a big cock? How do you know that?" "I saw him coming out of the shower room after the company's golf tournament." Stanley chuckled. His eyes grew wide. "Believe me, his cock looks like it's at least a foot long and his balls hang down like a pair of grapefruit! There must be lots of babies in them. It's a good thing you had your tubes tied because it would be awfully hard to explain away a little black brother to the twins. Anyway, hon, I'm sorry but I have to go, I've just been called in for a meeting. We should be at the house about seven tonight." "Oh god Stanley, help me out a little." I pleaded. "What should I serve? What do you want me to wear? This is all so unexpected." Stanley was no help whatsoever. "I'll leave those things up to you baby, I'm sure that whatever you do will be fine," "Now I really do have to go," he insisted. "We'll see you later tonight.... Bye sweetheart." ************************ After Stanley had phoned and dropped his bombshell, then hung up so abruptly I was left in a real tizzy. In order to plan the evening accordingly I purposely made myself a nice cup of tea to slow down my racing mind. I had to take everything one-step at a time. Tonight had to be just perfect. Luckily, our pool had been serviced the previous week and the gardener had just mowed the lawn so I didn't have to worry about anything outside. I could use the pool to my advantage if all went well tonight, The first thing on my agenda was to drive to the local butchers and purchase three of the finest steaks I could find. I had purposely chosen steak because I knew from the office picnic that Robert enjoyed barbecue, and I wanted to make him feel right at home. After the butcher had cut and wrapped the filets I proceeded to the liquor store and had the clerk help me select three nice bottles of Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon. Having taken care of the two most important ingredients, I headed off to the grocers to find some fresh vegetables and something rich and suitable for dessert. Once home I prepared most of the dinner accompaniments beforehand so that everything would appear as effortless as possible, then I sat down and had a glass of sherry to settle my nerves. I looked at my watch and saw that I had four more agonizing hours to wait for Stanley to bring Robert home. At six o clock I slipped into a nice hot bubble bath to calm myself down. After soaking myself for twenty minutes I toweled off and sprayed my most intimate parts with some of my Estee Lauder Spellbound. I slipped on my lacey white Décolleté bra and some fresh white silk panties and laid out some of my sexier casual outfits on the bed. After trying on everything at least two or three times, I finally settled on my favorite skintight white Capri pants, and a turquoise v-neck angora sweater. Once I was fully dressed, I painted my lips in a deep rich burgundy, put on my cultured pearl necklace and strapped on my new four-inch white patent pumps. I looked myself over in my full-length mirror and smiled at what I saw. I can certainly understand why we older women are called cougars. I was dressed for the kill. The butterflies in my stomach still hadn't left, so I poured myself another large glass of sherry. I was just finishing my drink when I heard Stanley's car turn into the driveway. My heart skipped a beat as I ran to the front door, I felt like a young girl on a date. I reached for the handle expectantly and opened the door. That evening was such a big event for me I can still remember every word we spoke. "Here you are, Mrs. Connelly!" Robert said in his wonderfully smooth deep voice. He towered over me like a black Adonis, flashing a mouthful of glistening pearly teeth, and holding out a beautiful bouquet of big pink roses intertwined with white baby's breath. Stanley was right behind him looking quite pleased with himself. "Oh Robert, they... they're beautiful!" I stammered, with an awkward smile. I gave him a light kiss on the cheek and smelled alcohol on his breath. He'd been drinking. I found that to be a good sign, it meant he was probably as nervous as I was. "Thank you so much, I'll just go put these in some water." "They're not as beautiful as you are Mrs. Connelly," he said before Stanley led him into the living room. In a moment of bravado he spoke to Stanley in a voice loud enough for me to hear. "No offence Mr. Connelly, but I'm not going to let your wife get away with just a quick peck on the cheek. At the very least I think I should get a big kiss!" I found my best crystal vase and as I filled it with water, I thought about how easy everything seemed to be slipping into place. Hopefully I mused, Robert's large black cock would also be slipping into place before the night was through. I carried the vase full of flowers back to the living room and set it down on the coffee table. The wonderful scent of roses filled the air, adding to the raw sensuality that permeated the room. "Where ever did you find such lovely flowers Robert?" I asked, feeling very special. "I don't think I've ever seen roses that big before. They're absolutely amazing!" "They are big aren't they? At first I was going to get you baby roses, but when I saw these, I changed my mind. I thought you're probably the type of woman that likes things larger than life." He gave me a knowing smile, and I'm sure I must have turned six shades of red. I was so damp I hoped my Capri's were still okay. Robert put his arms around me to give me a hug and whispered in my ear. It felt so intimate to have him so near, if he had asked I would have shed my panties in a flash. "Mrs. Connelly, I'm sorry but I can't help it, you're all I could think about for the whole time I've been away in Kansas!" With that, he picked me up as easily as if I were a sack of feathers and kissed me so passionately that it sent shivers racing up and down my spine. My arms automatically, wrapped themselves around his neck and I held on for dear life as he spun me around the room. With his strong arms holding me tight his soft full lips covered mine. Using what little willpower I could still muster I did my best to restrain my tongue from slipping between his teeth and into his warm wet mouth. Confessions of a Sex Addict I was running a little behind but gave a sigh of relief when I entered the room and saw the speaker was not yet at the podium. An usher found the seat that was George was saving for me. I gave a little smile as I apologized for being late. Our date was the prize we had won at a party, something I had won before but this was my first time out with George. Rising up he took my hand as we sat down, "I'm glad to have your company Cindy. I hope this lecture doesn't bore you too much, should only last an hour then we'll get on to much more enjoyable things." Most men didn't mind my presence. At 26 I was attractive, pretty face with a sweet smile, ready laugh, fit and trim body with pleasantly endowed breast that I like to show off in a peek-a-boo fashion. George was a doctor and our date began, of all things, with one of those continuing education presentations. "Have you heard this speaker before," I ask my George? "No, but he's suppose to be pretty good, teaches at the University, an expert on addictions I'm told." With still time to kill George began to quiz me, "And what about you Cindy, what do you do to keep busy?" "I mainly work from home," I replied, "Use the computer to do my work and keep in touch. I'm in advertising, product promotion, that sort of thing -- it does keep me plenty busy." "Ah, a work addict," George nodded, "hopefully you'll get some good suggestions here tonight on how to handle that. -- so is there any of your work that I might have seen?" I brightened up at the question. "I had a really popular one not so long ago. You may have seen it; it ran in magazines like Vogue and Maxim. It was an ad for woman's panties -- I really like how it turned out. It had the caption 'So comfortable you seldom want to take 'em off.' In the picture is a pair of panties draped over the headboard of a bed while a nude woman leans forward, astride her lover." "I don't think I did see it but it sounds very sexy," George nodded. "Oh it was, and a good money maker for me too because not only did I design the ad I was the woman in the photo!" "Really," George turned and smiled, "It's good of you to be so generous with your beauty." "I have this need to share," I laughed as I leaned toward him, allowing him to catch a glimpse of my cleavage. "The ad ran in Europe too but there we were able to make the couple a little sharper so you could actually see where the guy's penis meets the pussy but here in North America we had to fuzz that out." "And what about you George, any issues you hope to cure with this evenings lecture?" "Just the usual," George quipped in a voice that could be easily heard by those around us, "work and sex. -- you know, too much work not enough sex." I don't know what I did but my body language betrayed me and I must have looked startled like my hidden self was being made public. "It's OK," George quickly tried to reassure me. "Sex is good! Half the people in here will have some tonight and the other half will wish it were them." He gave my hand a little squeeze because that's exactly how we planned to finish off this evening! The speaker was getting ready to start drawing George's attention forward but I continued to study him. I had a mysterious attraction to men but why? "Are You One? ..." was the name of the talk and our speaker began with a simple introduction. "There are all kinds of addictions and they have a number of common traits. So for the sake of time tonight, let's me illustrate my points using one that's sure to hold you interest -- Sexual Addiction." His talk was engaging, funny, informative, but also intrusive as he began to describe me. Like the song says, 'he was killing me softly with his words.' I sat frozen; I wanted to leave but felt compelled to stay. "... The addict has a secret life which they find thrilling ..." We had been married for four years when we moved into a big old house that had been converted into two apartments. My husband Steve and I lived upstairs and 3 young men lived on the main level. I worked from home, using my computer to create ads while my husband worked afternoon-evenings at a downtown hospital, often working overtime, which made a long day for him. I had everything a woman wants, a great husband, interesting work, a place to call home, enough money to buy what I needed but I began to feel bored and unhappy. Steve's schedule was work, eat, sleep - with quickie sex some nights, golf on Saturdays, sex Sunday morning, and watching sports Sunday afternoon. My work allowed me to be creative but something was missing in my life. I thought of myself as attractive but I was losing my sexual desire and started viewing intercourse as a wifely duty, something wives do to keep their husbands from cheating or leaving them. On one of those long evenings alone I had made some cookies and decided to share them with our downstairs neighbors. Kevin was the only one home and expressed great appreciation for them. "Say," Kevin motioned, "did you know we have a staircase between my bedroom closet and your bedroom closet?" He took me to his room and showed me the door located behind his rack of clothes. "Apparently when they remodeled the house for apartments the stairs where just abandoned, not being needed anymore. If you ever want to come down without going outside feel free to use these stairs." I began to use the stairs to bring baked goodies to the guys fairly often. Two of the guys had girlfriends who would often come over so I would stay and the six of us would play a game of cards or watch a movie. When it got late we would head to our bedrooms. Before going upstairs I'd stay a while longer in Kevin's room visiting while in the rooms on either side of his we could hear through the thin walls squeaking bedsprings, muffled voices then the excited cries of climax, as the sounds of lovers making love filter in. Kevin and I would exchange knowing looks before I headed upstairs. I derived a tremendous amount emotional energy from being with Kevin and his friends and started feeling better about myself. Thoughts are a curious thing, and I let my mind toy with thoughts -- thoughts a married woman shouldn't think about. Hooking up with Kevin began to play in my mind. I rejected the idea with my rational mind, why would I want to fool around with another man? But just above my subconscious level I allowed the idea linger and take shape -- what would it be like to show myself to another man, to see what he looks like, feels like, sound like? It was on a Saturday morning two weeks later that I found myself in a state of enchantment, creeping down those stairs. "I'll just give him a little tease by showing up," I thought after dabbing on a little perfume, "only stay a minute and be gone." My husband had headed out for an early morning 'tee time' with several of his golf buddies. I knocked lightly on Kevin's door then pushed it open. Sticking my head in his room I whispered "are you awake?" He stirred then rolled over to see what was going on. I stood there in my sheer white negligee, heart racing, knowing I was on forbidden ground. "I must be dreaming," Kevin muttered, "a beautiful goddess has walked into my dream. Come here and let me touch you before I wake up!" I moved toward Kevin and enjoyed the feel of his hand running up and down my thigh and hip to where it snagged my panties that he tugged on until I helped him remove them. Stepping out of my panties, Kevin gazed up at my fully exposed pussy. He ran his hand through my pubic hair then let it slid down between my pussy lips. Finding my vaginal opening he collected some of my goo and moved it to my clit which he gentle massaged. I was enjoying his attention immensely when I had a strong urge to see his penis, so pulling the bed covers back I found his large fully erect cock. "Let's me stir my cream into your sugar!" Kevin exclaimed, as he pulled me toward him. The next thing I knew I had dropped my negligee on the floor and positioned myself on top of him. Reaching up to fondly my breast, Kevin said, "You are absolutely gorgeous!" My heart continued to race, my body was super sensitive to the feel of his skin. My breaths were shallow and fast as he ran his hands over my body then touched my face before fondling my breast again. Bending down I let his chest tickle my breast before letting them press against him as we began kissing. At first our lips touched and played then our tongues began to tangle before he sucked my tongue deep into his mouth and played with it. The feel of his deep kisses and warm soft skin made me feel like this is the place where a woman belongs. I could feel his penis begging to find my hole so I repositioned myself. As my hand guided his penis to my vagina I was thinking, "I shouldn't be doing this," yet at the same time I was intoxicated with the beguiling desire to feel his throbbing cock in my cunt. As his penis sank into my vagina I paused to savor the feeling. I don't know how or why but the feel of a man's penis as it first enters me always gives me a gratifying rush! It's like a mini orgasm as my vagina repeatedly squeezes his penis eliciting warm soft sensations to radiate out from my pussy, making me feel sexually on fire, a fire this intense I had not felt in a long time! I was in control and with each slow stroke my clit radiated sensual pleasure. We must have fucked for 10 minutes all the while Kevin moaned as he touched me, grabbed me, kissed me. "You feel so good my sugar sweet," Kevin spoke loudly, his manly voice sending shivers through me. "You are so very very beautiful Cindy, I want you so much!" "You have me my creamy darling," I replied, "You have me and I have you." I paused several time in our lovemaking to vocally proclaim my delight as the feel of orgasmic waves radiate out from around Kevin's buried penis. "I feel alive, like a woman again Kevin. The only thing I lack is the feel of your 'cream in my sugar'." With that Kevin couldn't hold it back any longer. Again I was motionless, enjoying the feel of his ejaculating penis as he orgasmed, filling me with his warm nectar. The contraction of an ejaculating penis gives me an intense feeling of power and intimacy. It's a feeling I carve. Being the center of a man's attention, receiving and giving sexual gratification makes me feel sexy, cherished, wanted and beautiful. Our affair continued over the next fifteen months until Kevin's work took him away. I tried to stop a couple of time because I had no desire to damage my marriage but somehow we'd find ourselves in bed together again because it made me so alive. I was so addicted to the powerful feelings of clandestine excitement, intimacy and sexual gratification, that I started taking greater risk. On several occasions I was so bold as to have Kevin fuck me in my own bed on Sunday afternoons when my husband was downstairs watching football with the other guys. There would be a sudden noise and the fear of getting caught caused us to spring to our hiding place in the stairwell but that just added to the thrill of our 'afternoon delight!' We'd hide, naked, breathless, hearts pounding, waiting until the coast was clear, while through the wall we could hear the TV going and the distant voices of the guys talking. With the adrenalin still pumping through my veins, I'd kneel on the steps letting Kevin enter me from behind so he could finish having his way with me, a position and circumstance which brought me immense satisfaction as his juices flowed into me. As a going away gift I had made up a little scrapbook documenting our escapades together; pictures we had taken during our lovemaking, pictures of me, of us, my pussy, his cock, his cock in my pussy, his semen oozing from my cunt and of course the stairwell. It was all very sexy and warm. I wanted him to have as fond of memories of me as I had of him. "... Addictions have unplanned consequences or Have you been watching others? ..." After Kevin left Ivan moved into his room. Medium height with a stout build, sandy hair, blue eyes, Ivan was from Argentina, of German descent, and had the looks and an accent that attracted women. One Sunday morning while my husband and I were noisily making love I thought I heard some strange noises coming from the closet area. Later in the day when I was sure everyone was gone I went to check the hidden stairs. I could tell by the way my shoes were pushed to the side that the door had been opened. I went down the stairs and slipped into Ivan's room. He kept a clean room, probably because he had so many women coming in and out, and women don't like a messy. The only thing that caught my eye was a digital camera on his dresser. I was feeling like a detective about to break a big case. Taking the camera I went back upstairs and downloaded the pictures. Ah ha, just like I suspected. He had a dozen pictures of my husband and me making love. My mind raced as I contemplated what to do next. I scribbled a note: "Dear Ivan. Turnabout is fair play. Next time you have a girl over leave your camera in the closet so I can get some pictures of you too. P.S. Be sure to turn on some music so you can't hear me like I heard you and keep the lighting up so the pictures will turn out." When I went to return the camera I moved some items around in his closet so I would have an easier time getting those pictures. I checked the door for squeaks and realized that all the doors had been recently oiled. "Ivan, you bad boy," I thought, "You planned this out didn't you." Steve was still working the evening shift at the hospital so usually got home a little after midnight. I often waited for him before going to bed so my new hobby shouldn't cause any fuss or so I reasoned. Several days later Ivan emailed me. "It's a deal. When you hear the song, 'Dancing' coming from my room that will be your signal." "Ok, I emailed back, what signal should I send you?" "Your squeaking bed and your laugher tells everyone in the house what you're up to so nothing more is needed," was his reply. Past experience should have told me how easy it was to hear your neighbors; still I was a little embarrassed. Every time I'd hear the cue song my heart would start fluttering as the old sexually clandestine juices ran through my blood again. Because Ivan knew I'd be there taking pictures he made sure I would get nice poses. He went so far as to move his bed and wall mirror so I could capture front and back images in the same frame. He even invested in a better camera. By the time Ivan put on the music the girl was wet-and-willing. When I'd show up they were usually doing a slow dance, nude bodies pressed together. The next song was high tempo and the girls really loved to put on a show; shake that booty, move those hips, play with their breast. From this we got our Classic Pose #1, girl gone wild. Song ended and before the impassioned lovers would fall onto the bed Ivan would come up behind them and begin to fondle their breast and kiss their neck. Classic Pose #2, get the girl with arms up reaching back to hold Ivan head as she enjoy his kisses, giving a full nude shot of the beautiful female form with bosom blossoming. Once on the bed their bodies would soon be merged as their passionate kissing led to fervent fucking. This gave me Classic Pose #3, female on top and a close-up of her wet love chamber taking in his male member. Classic Pose #4 had Ivan on top, her legs in the air or wrapped around him, his penis impaled in her vagina. On my end I would also make sure Ivan got some good shots of my hubby and me. I loved showing off my body and in particular love the shots of Steve's penis in my vagina with his white goo oozing out around it! It didn't really occur to me that what I was doing was illegal or that I could get in trouble, until one day when I was down in Ivan's room using his computer to see what the latest pictures looked like. He had a web browser opened to a web site called "See My Girl Friend." There posted for all to see were photos of these girls and Ivan in the Classic 1,2,3,4, poses! I was somewhat shaken about what could happen if one of these girls or someone who knew them came across these pictures. I hurried back to my room and fired off an email to Ivan demanding he hide their identity or remove the pictures. Ivan responded, "Dear Cindy, The artist in you has capture some beautiful photos and I want to think you for coming up with the idea and taking the pictures. Blacking out the faces destroys your stellar work and taking them down would deprive the world from seeing some real beauty, so I think we'll just leave things are they are. P.S. You might enjoy seeing Steve and yourself online too and he give me the link to a web site. I looked and there we were, several dozen pictures of us, standing, sitting, lying, fucking from every which way. To make matters worse, there was one picture of me lying chest down, rear up, giving a full pussy view - with me looking back over my shoulder, and superimposed on the picture was my hotmail address with a message that read: "Have pussy, will share." I was furious but no amount of cajoling could make Ivan remove them. He had me over a barrel and knew it. Shortly thereafter he and the rest of the guys downstairs moved out. This made me feel somewhat better but there was always this nagging that this whole thing could come back to haunt me. "... The Addict's 'Trance' - Multiple Extra-Marital Affairs ..." Without the excitement of Kevin around I fussed over how I looked I'd change my hair style, long to short, straight to curly then back again. I would shave my pubic hair and other time lest it grow. My husband approved of whatever I did but I wanted more. In truth there was nothing wrong with my marriage and I had no logical reason to look outside it for anything, yet I wanted other men to think of me as sexy too. So when I started getting emails in response to Ivan's prank I was somehow curious as the clandestine bug bit me again. It was like a game. Sitting at the computer getting ready to respond to their emails I'd enter a trance like state where a trill would sweep over me. I'd first tell them I collect photos of cocks and would like a picture of them and theirs. If I liked what I saw I reply again with a tease telling them what I liked and didn't like when it came to sex and asked them to tell me about their sexual preferences. After getting back a few emails I started spelling out in greater detail my requirements like, no bondage, no pain, no ass fucking, no long term relationships. I wanted oral sex for warm up but it was my cunt where their cock was to put its cum -- in me not on me. I also wanted the guy to be able to last a while in me so I could have a penis induced orgasm. And of course they had to agree to let us be photographed on our first fling. If I approved of their response I'd send back a photo of my pussy, stretched out to look like a heart, and their cock and saying, "I collect photo's of cupid's arrows in my sexy heart, can I get a picture of yours in mine?" and "where can we meet for coffee?" So began my collection. I got numerous pictures of guys and cocks but only selected a few to hook up with. Somehow I justified such a collection by putting pictures of my husband's as the first largest set, thanks to Ivan's pictures. Then I had a set of Kevin. Each subsequent set consisted of one page in a large scrapbook. The first picture would be of us both standing naked side by side with his name printed underneath the picture. The next picture would be a close-up of his penis. Next I had a picture of his cock in my pussy. The fourth picture would be of me ridding him or he on me. I had room for a fifth picture that could have been of any pose but the one I often picked showed us fucking doggy style. I think it was the animal lust which attracted me, nude bodies, breast hanging, being impregnated by good looking man. Confessions of a Sex Addict If I had an orgasm I would put an O under the fourth picture, an X if I didn't. Along the bottom of the page I put the date of each time we made love. I'd also make notes about what I liked about each guy, how he made me feel, how he touched me, things he said and anything different I may have tried for the fist time. We'd usually had 8 to 12 encounters before ending the affair. Most of the men I had intercourse with were good looking and married. A lot of their wives thought making love once every week or two was enough. Early in our marriage my husband had clued me in that it only takes two or three day for the seminal vesicles, which contains the semen, to fill to capacity. 'When full, hormonal influences sensitize all sexual stimuli' --- meaning guys start thinking about sex a lot. A smart wife keeps the focus of her husband by being the one supplying his sexual needs. So I willing submit to my husband's advances and now I found myself fulfilling other men's sexual needs too. I had become that 'other woman' that most wives hate, though a few knew I was out there and silently approved because it spared them from having to get intimate. If it was a business man coming to town we'd meet at his hotel except for the first time when I had them come to the apartment below mine where Thomas, an older divorced man who now rented the downstairs, would let me use Kevin's old bedroom for my escapades. Thomas was my protector as it were, until I was sure about the person. Thomas also was my photographer, coming in when I called for him to take pictures for my scrapbook. In return I would massage his cock in my creamed filled puss after my lover was gone. I rationalized my behavior by using what I learned from these other men on Steve. I'd ask these men what they liked than I worked to perfect their dreams. I became expert at giving a 'good head,' and squeezing a penis with my vaginal muscles. I learned how to pleasure a man longer by varying the rhythm and position during copulation. I learned how to talk sexy talk while being fucked. I learned how to press my clit against the base of a cock so I could get that much desired penis centered orgasm. Steve enjoyed experiencing all I was learning and started giving me more attention and spending more time with me. Thus I reasoned these affairs were helping my marriage, so I continued. Over the next 18 months I had added 26 pages to my scrapbook, having multiple affairs going on at the same time! "...Out of Control or Can't Get Enough - Group Encounter ..." On one of my internet dates I was invited me to participate in a group encounter. This was a couple's only affair and all the couples were married. I was looking for next adrenal rush so took Chuck up on his offer to participate with him as his wife. These gatherings were hosted by Howard and Rosa, an older couple who organized the activities around sex games. I suspect it their way of staying sexually active, if only vicariously. There were kissing games and cock and clit licking games. Games like "Hole in the wall" where the guys would stand behind a sheet with the cock poking through and we try to identify whose cock it was -- and later we would back up to the hole while Rosa guided our pussy onto the awaiting cock and the guys would try to guess whose pussy they were in. I had perfected the vaginal squeeze so it wasn't long before they could guess it was me every time. We'd do something similar with our pussies, covered by a sheet with cunts exposed; the guys would toys with our pussies as they tried to identify us. Again I found the guys could always pick me out quickly. One evening I asked George who is a physician, why I was so easy to identify. "You don't know?" he grin, "It's you clitoris, it is much larger than most women's and even when you are not aroused it peers out from underneath its hood. I suspect that why you orgasm so quickly and have so many, your clit gets lots of stimulation!" The evening cumulated with the last game called "Musical Fuck." The way the game was played, circling the room all the women would lay down on a large cushion which raised us off the floor. Then with feet flat on the floor and legs spread we'd positioned themselves for intercourse. The husband of each woman would kneel on a mat before his wife and our hostess would give the command "IN" and all the cocks would slide into the respective vagina, then "OUT," and they would withdraw. The hostess would then order "Rotate" and each guy would move to the woman on his right. The hostess again gave the in and out command but this time she would do it twice. Again rotate right, and this time three strokes of cock going into and out of our cunts. If there were 10 couples by the time a guy had made the circle and was back to his wife each woman would have felt 10 cocks sliding in and out of her 55 times. In addition to directing our fucking Rosa would also order lip kisses, or French kissing, breast massage and so on. This circling and fucking would continue until all the men had ejaculated. The woman who caused the most men to ejaculate in her was the winner for the women. The man who caused the most women to orgasm was the winner for the men. The two winners were given a free dinner and hotel room courteous of our host who happened to own the hotel. The group met every Wednesday evening. We were there by 8 and gone by 11:30, just giving me time to get home before Steve arrived. When he did I'd be in the shower giving myself a douche, ridding myself of cum the men had deposited in me. Throughout the week I reason why I shouldn't go anymore but then when Wednesday evening came I had this strange pull to go again. On my first visit I mentioned to Howard, how I collected pictures of all the guys who I made love with. He was intrigued and asked me to bring the album next time we met. On my next visit Howard and I looked at the scrapbook as I described my encounters. Comparing two different pages Howard inquired, "Why did this guy get 15 fucks and this guy only 3." "Good fuck, bad fuck" was my cryptic reply as I pointed to the 12 O's under the first picture and the 3 X's under the second. "Oh," Howard laughed, "three strikes and you're out. "Something like that," I smiled. So why did you stop with the first guy?" "It was just time," was the only explication I could give. After that Howard made sure he got pictures of me in my 5 favorite poses with every guy in the group. He'd include a new group shot as well whenever a new couple would attend. During 'Musical Fuck' as Rosa called out the commands and kept the cadence, Howard would keep a score card of who was having orgasm with whom. When one of us would orgasm, Rosa would pause until we had finished then she'd have us all do some French kissing before we resume our intercourse. I could tell that Rosa had been a good lover. She would watch our faces and as one of 'her girls' approached climax she would bend the men forward so our clits received maximum attention from the visiting penis and speed up the cadence until the cries of climax erupted. "Rotate," Rosa call out, and I'd watch transfixed as the next glistening cock moved between my legs. "In" and I'd give a little shudder as his penis split my pussy lips and sank into my chamber of love. By the time I had received those first 50 or 60 thrust my pussy was so engorged that I would readily come to orgasm. When my guy would kneel before me I lock my eyes onto his and give him that sweet smile of desire; then squeeze his velvety smooth penis with my vagina as he filled my throne of pleasure. As I worked my way toward an orgasm I would be vocal, giving moans and cries, and demonstrative with my body movements, my pelvis rising to meet his, body withering, arms reaching, because I wanted him to know how much pleasure he was giving me and I really did want the gratification of receiving his sperm while knowing I caused him to orgasm. After ejaculating the man would go kneel beside his wife and watch the remaining men have intercourse with her. Howard had once confided to me that he did this because it brings out the emotions of pride and jealousy in a husband. Pride because he wants other men to know how lucky he is to have such a beautiful wife who knows how to please. So a husband derives some sexual satisfaction as he kneels beside his wife and watches as another man kneels between her legs and slides his cock into her cunt. Her naked body moves in rhythm with his penis. He gazes upon her lovely form while watching his cock disappear then reemerge from her love chamber, over and over again. 116, 117, 118, 119 -- then comes the orgasm and his cum is flows in her body. At the same time there is jealousy at watching another man impregnate your wife, laying claim to her body as it were, by depositing his sperm in her vagina. To reclaim his rightful place he will impregnate his wife many times before the next Wednesday rolls around. This continued until the last guy had erupted in some lucky girl's love chamber. As the number of guys circling diminished I'd wait my next turn by watching with interest the other women getting fucked -- many of whom I started considering friends. By the end of the game it wasn't unusual for me to have the extracted semen from 4 or 5 men and on several occasion when we had 15 couples I scored 8 hits. As a way of pronouncing the female winner Howard would come and kneel before her and with his Viagra induced erection push his rod into her cum soaked vagina. Age had desensitized his cock so he needed to pound away vigorously for some time before he could add his semen to the mix. Howard and I were often the last ones to fuck for the evening. I could tell he was always happy when I won because by the time he finished with me he would bring me to screaming climaxes several more times - and I've never met a man who doesn't enjoy being impaled in a woman as she explodes! "... They need help to realize the impact of what they are doing. ..." I became a regular guest at Howard hotel to the point where I felt like the clerks were my friends. I would come in late afternoon and the clerk would give me a warm greeting and hand me a key to the bridal suite. I'd take a swim then my evening lover would show up and we sit in the hot tub for a while before changing and having dinner at the hotel with Rosa and Howard. Because I couldn't stay the night we return to the room early enough to give ourselves several hours of alone time. The bridal suite was luxurious with pleasant music, soft lighting, mirrored walls, erotic paintings, plush furnishings. This evening was a little different. Instead of the hot tub routine I met my date in the convention room where a talk was being presented. After dinner we were off to our room where we made passionate love for the next hour. Lying on top of my lover I was enjoying the afterglow of a good orgasm. When his penis slipped out I removed his condom. Pushing myself up I looked into his eyes and asked, "Doctor, how is it you have so much semen, doesn't your wife keep you emptied out?" He laughed, "My wife thinks her job is to entertain so if I want sex I have to find it elsewhere." "But Carol seems to enjoy herself at the group encounter, I don't understand." George laughed again, "Dear sweet naive Cindy. Half of those women are not spouses including Carol. She is an admin assistant in our office and we only have sex at the encounter. No my wife knows nothing about my sex life; doesn't really enjoy sex if the truth be known." "Well she is certainly missing out, you are a wonderful lover," I said as I ran my hand over his wet penis. "You know it doesn't bother me if you don't use a condom though. I rather enjoy knowing I have my lovers love juice in me -- makes me feel loved and wanted -- how could you ever get enough of this love. There was a long pause as George studies my face. "Cindy you confuse love with lust. Love is caring about someone, dreaming their dreams crying their tears. Love is exclusive and when you find it then you'll want to give your body to the one who has your soul. It doesn't happen very often. Most of us just settle for a degree of sanity and sex. Love is fragile, I killed my marriage with indifference and my wife finally gave up. Without love sex is just to gratify not to satisfy, trust me you'll see what I talking about one day." "I don't want to ruin my marriage," I murmured. "Your marriage is already shot," the Doctor retorted. "Any guy who lets a dozen other men screw his wife every week isn't doing it because of love. I'm surprised you haven't caught a venereal disease a long time ago with all the unprotected sex you've had." "Chuck isn't my husband," I shot back, "Steve is my husband and I know he loves me!" "Cindy Sounders -- Steve Sounders," George mused, "Does Steve work at the hospital in ER?" "Yes, do you know Steve?" "Sure I do, we work together sometimes. Nice fellow; knows what he's doing too. We have even played golf together a few times; like to go out early Saturday mornings. "Well I'll be," George continued grinning ear to ear, "Steve and I have more in common than I ever imagined -- we both screw his wife!" "You're lucky to have a guy like Steve - thinks the world of you, you know. Obviously doesn't know you're a whore though. He won't be a happy camper when you give him a STI. Tell me, do we ever share your hairy little pussy on the same night?" "I never turn Steve down," I said, not sure why I should even answer his prying question; but being naked and having willingly just let this man fill my vagina with his penis for the last half hour, what is there left to hide. "Well Cindy that illustrates the difference between love and lust. Steve has sex with you because he loves you and the rest of us fuck you because we like the feel of our penis in the vagina of a pretty woman. Sure, we may come to like you, say sweet things to you but that's because you're a good looking babe with nice boobs, a pretty face, sweet smile. You make us feel good -- feel like a man because a man likes a willing woman, one who has orgasms while they fuck. See Cindy, men just use you, they take advantage of your addiction to sex, which is good for men like me but it is not love, no not nearly as good as love." His voice trailed off in a wistful tone. It was then I had a flash of insight that let me pierce the curtain of enchantment. The intimacy I had once enjoyed with my husband was gone and in return I just to get a cheap empty thrill. Fear gripped me as I realized I was risking everything that I honestly cared about and gaining nothing that my husband could not supply. That which moments before I found alluring I now despised. That which I had thought boring I now longed for -- being a good person, a good wife, home and family. ... A New Beginning ... It was 10:30 pm as I headed for the lobby door when my eyes were drawn to the poster advertising the lecture, "Are You One -- How Addictions Destroy." Shaken by George's words my mind was racing as I recalled that evenings lecture. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Howard and decided to approach him. "Howard may I ask a favor of you?" "Oh Cindy," Howard joked, "not tonight dear, I'm out of Viagra!" We both laughed. "Sure sweetie, what would you like?" "I'd like to spend a night in the bridal suite with my husband." "Chuck? - Well why can't you train the old boy to give a few of the girls an orgasm? - Then he could be here with you often!" "No not Chuck, my real husband Steve" I said as my voice began to quiver - tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm feeling real guilty about things and our apartment is so old and simple I just want to pamper and love him while surrounded with a little bit of luxury. He works so hard down at the hospital while I'm out screwing off." Turning serious Howard said, "Sure my dear, I would like to do that for you. I get the feeling you won't be coming back to the encounter?" "Thank you Howard," I said as the tears rolled down my cheeks. I think it best to quit and try to be a better wife." Howard took my hand and led me over to the clerk. "Johnny, this beautiful lady has met the man of her dreams and needs the services of our bridal suite. Make sure she get's the deluxe package and put it on my tab. My wedding gift to you," he said as he gave me a wink then headed off. "Will you be having the reception here too," Johnny inquired. "Oh no," my voice still quivered, "It's just the two of us." Looking up Johnny searched my eyes as he said, "OK Cindy, it's all set for this weekend, is there anything else I can do for you?" "No," was all the answer I could muster as my chin quiver and tears again began flowing freely. Handing me some tissue Johnny led me behind the counter to the office in the back and closed the door. There I broke down and cried tears of remorse for 10 minutes. It took another 10 minutes for me to regain my composure. "Are you OK Cindy," Johnny ask when he came back into the room, do you need a ride home or anything?" "No I good." I replied with a deep sigh. "Well you had better go if you want to get home by midnight." Johnny continued. "You know me too well," I weakly smiled. "It's been a year," Johnny smiled back, "a lot of us around here care about you and I think getting a new start will be the best thing to happen to you in a long time." I was in the shower when Steve came home. "Come join me sweetie," I called, I have something to tell you." I had my back turned to Steve when he got in the shower, again struggling to keep my composure. He put his arms around me lifting my breast and kissed the back of my neck. Then noticing my douche supplies he commented, "I've noticed that you've been douching a lot lately sweetie and I've been meaning to tell you your vagina has its own self cleaning action and douching actually harms your vagina more than it helps. When I replied, as much as I tried to hide it, Steve could tell I'd been crying. With concern he turned me around, "Something wrong honey?" "Nothing," my voice wavered, "Just feeling a little emotional, you know, 'the woman thing.' I'll be happy to get rid of this douche stuff. I want to have a healthy place for your penis to visit and besides I like the idea of having your sperm floating around in me." With streams of water cascading over our naked bodies I put my arms around his neck and gave him a wet kiss. "Guess what," I continued with a steadier voice, "I won a weekend for two at the South Point Hotel!" "Wow! How did you do that?" Steve exclaimed." "Don't ask," I teased, "Let just say they think this is our honeymoon!" "Honeymoon," Steve teased back, "isn't that when the husband and wife say 'I Love You,' a lot, do bunches of hugging and kissing and sex is like a gourmet meal? Hugging him tightly, voice shaky again I whispered back, "I sure hope so because that what this wife needs!" ... A Better Life or Happy Ever After ... The weekend was fabulous. It was the first time in a long time that Steve and I really had time to talk and connect. We dreamed new dreams and made new plan -- the kind of dreams one has while sipping wine over dinner, and plans lover make as they lay naked together enjoying the peace that flows from being close after making love. Not long after, we move away to a small town some distance away where Steve could have a day job at a hospital. We built up our marriage to where we saw each other as soul mates, where love blended our spirits together. With such unity is naturally followed that Steve was my sole source of love and sexual satisfaction, ending years of struggle. And I, of course, strived to be the best lover he could ever imagine or want and his semen reserve always runs on low because I make sure he empties his sperm into me often. Pregnancy follow, then motherhood. Our responsibilities increased but so did our joys. Confessions of a Sex Addict Hidden away in the recesses of my mind is the scrapbook documenting my infidelity. Someday I'm told there will be a great day of judgment where my secrets will be exposed. I'm guilty as charged but no longer despair. I'll confess, "Sweetheart, there was a time when I was young and foolish, when a mysterious unseen power would come over me and I'd surrender myself to its control and then I'd betray your trust and behave badly. God has forgiven me, will you?" And I know he'll forgive me because he loves me just as much as I love him.