My sex addiction story 1
A little about myself: I’m a thirty-something wife and mother who used to party hard like a rock star and has the pictures and videos to prove it. In my childhood, I was brought up in a rigorous religious environment, which I eventually abandoned when I reached adulthood. When I’m not working, I’m reading books to my children, resting at a nearby pub, or blogging about my prior partying experiences.
While driving to the mall that evening, I knew exactly what I wanted. No matter that it was snowing like crazy outside and that the parking lots were completely frozen over, I didn’t give a damn about anything. His presence made me want to be with him and I was unsure of when I’d get another opportunity to do so.
Neither of us had any doubts about the danger, but I couldn’t care less. Just to feel his hands on me, to feel his tongue trace the inside of my lips, and to feel him within me once again was all I wanted in the world. When he brought me lunch and I sat next to him, it was all I could think about all afternoon at work. All I could think about was how I wanted to fuck him right there in his vehicle, and it was all I could think about that day.
After a while, I discovered that his initial plans for the evening had not included sex, but he didn’t say anything when I jumped on top of him. I couldn’t help but indulge my own indulgences. I could not wait any longer after five minutes of kissing him and feeling his hands touch me, first over my skirt, then pushing my skirt up and out of the way so that he could grab my hip, and finally sliding his fingers inside me, where I was already wet and ready that I was moaning – I couldn’t wait any longer.
Because I needed him right there in the parking lot, during a snowstorm, in his pickup truck, I couldn’t say no. Eventually, I climbed on top of him and positioned myself so that I could feel every inch of his body.
My memories of that night are etched in my mind: how amazing he felt inside me, the scent of his sweat mixed with mine, his hands grabbing my hips to pull himself deeper into me, the feel of his mouth on my neck and my collarbone, and finally my own mouth, kissing me with a passionate but controlled need.
Everything became more acute as the anticipation of being apprehended built. Because he’s a vocal lover, the look in his eyes as we come up for air, the sound of his voice, and the sensation of his breath on my neck all make me feel instantly attracted to him. Because his words and groans told me everything, I never had to worry whether I was making him feel good.
This resulted in both of us being very wet and drenched in the lovely fragrance of sex when we returned to his vehicle that night. The fact that I had came three times left me feeling gloriously spent. Afterwards, we had other encounters, but something about that specific encounter stood out from the others.
Perhaps it was the stark contrast between the freezing temperatures outside and the hot, sweaty sex inside the vehicle that got to him. Possibly it was the ferocity with which I needed to be around him. This evening will be etched in my memory for the rest of my life.
My sex addiction story 1
Courtney
When I’m not working, I’m working on my master’s degree in psychology. Aside from that, I’m a single mother who homeschools my children.
Yes, I’m going to come right out and say it: I like watching homosexual male pornography. That is to say, I like it tremendously. A ripped, sweating dude getting it from another gorgeous man is one of the most exciting things I’ve ever seen.
Despite the fact that I’ve always been a bit… outside of the typical norms of sexuality, I wasn’t always like this. As a subject of light BDSM, I’ve experimented with it on a few occasions in the past, always in the position of the submissive. My discovery that being pinned down and powerless truly appealed to me came about when wrestling with a guy buddy a long time ago. My clothes were completely soaked as a result of the incident. The meek and obedient lady has always been a part of my character.
While watching porn, it was usually some submissive, busty blonde who was being subjugated by a severe, authoritative male.
Several times, I’ve been tied up, subjected to sensory deprivation, spanked, and even whipped, and labeled a ‘dirty little slut,’ among other things.
However, after just finishing a very tough long-term love relationship that was borderline emotionally abusive, it was suddenly repulsive to witness women being taken advantage of in porn, regardless of whether it was fictitious or nonfiction.
Even knowing that I am just acting in a part, I could never envision myself ever again performing the submissive position. I’ve had my whole sexual perspective turned on its head. I’m not depressed or unhappy about this change; instead, I’m excited about it and want to use it to explore the plethora of other alternatives that are available to me throughout the spectrum of sexual expression.
If women fucking men with strap-ons or women fucking women with strap-ons become more popular, I could consider expanding my porn consumption to include such content. In this day and age, there are so many other ways to express one’s sexuality, and I resolve to never again put myself in a box of submissiveness.
My excitement at the prospect of guys being subservient or even merely at the bottom of the food chain is unmatched. During my next sexual encounter, I could even experiment with dominance.
Until then, I’ll settle with enjoying the company of gorgeous guys fucking, and I’ll do so without feeling guilty about it.
I’d want to thank Alicia Wolfe for all she has done for me.
Ex-wine husband’s expert with an incredible rack of wines and a dog of his own Aside from being a number cruncher, wife, and mother/slave to three cats, she has a quite ordinary existence.
My first experience with sex happened when I was very young, according to my mother. People tell me that whenever they hear the phrase “my number.” When I was younger, I didn’t feel like I was that old. I was fourteen years old at the time of this writing. Those were the days, back in 1989.
When I was younger, I didn’t know much about sex. Plenty. It was a joke present from a buddy, and it was titled The Joy of Sex. And I’d done my research beforehand. Except for a few fundamentals in mechanics, the only training I’d had on sexuality had been from “on the street” since all my mother had to say was, “Sex is a very nice and beautiful thing between two married people.”
Although I placed it in quotation marks, it is something that I recall accurately. We know this because she repeated herself again and over in those same terms. In actuality, it was more along the lines of, “SexIsAVeryWonderfulAndBeautifulThingBetweenTwoMarried-Person.”
A monotone voice is used.
Everything had come to an end at that point.
At least not in the typical sense of “I was forced to do it” as I’ve heard from other first-time experiences, I wasn’t compelled to do it by the man “Let’s get this party started, baby! “You’re giving me blue balls,” says the speaker ” The concept came to me.
In hindsight, that was not one of my more brilliant ideas, to say the least.
That being said, it was a good decision for me. In my life, I have always preferred to take the road less traveled and this experience was no exception.
My then-boyfriend, who we’ll call Mike for the sake of anonymity, was definitely more…um…’experienced’ than I was at that point. After all, he did sport a mohawk, so I guess I was “the good girl” to his “bad boy.” However, when it came to making out with me, he didn’t really try that hard. I do recall him attempting to finger me while we were kissing, and I gently pushed his hand away… since I was on my period at the time.
What a disgusting stench!
However, I did not inform him of this fact. What a slap in the face!
Anything else ‘below the surface of clothes’ was never attempted. As far as that was concerned, he conducted himself with dignity. That struck me as unusual at the time. I wanted to expand my horizons and get more knowledge and understanding. I might also discover that I didn’t by saying ‘no’ to him if he attempted anything I wasn’t prepared to handle. The act of shoving his hand away, though, seems to have sealed my doom for the rest of time.
A month or two later, there was a period during which I did not see him for a week or two. I believe I was brought to a logical conclusion. My insane mother believed I was out partying, boozing, and having sex on a regular basis, so I was almost always grounded. It was most likely related to the fact that she had discovered the book that I had concealed in my dressing table. All of it, on the other hand, I was not doing. Everyone and everything that I went to was driven by my mother. It was she who phoned my parents before she took me somewhere. When it came to making her claims, she was entirely deluded.
I’m not sure which came first: the story about Mike and another female, or a close friend informing me she’d lost her cherry on top of the cake. The difference between the two is immaterial to me. However, the important thing to remember was that I now had a truly excellent buddy who had “gone the distance.” I had a partner who seemed to be gung-ho about doing ‘it’ and was maybe doing ‘it’ with someone else since he assumed I was not going to do ‘it.’
To find out what all the fuss was about, I decided to do some investigating. It goes without saying that, as a fourteen-year-old girl, I also thought ‘it’ would help me keep my boyfriend. I really want to kick my past self in the shins because of this reason. “Didn’t she stay at your house last night?” says my mother, who should have had a real conversation with me about sex… I told him I wanted to do ‘it,’ and I conspired to be somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be (divorced parents can be useful in this way: “didn’t she stay at your house last night?” says my mother. We were successful.
It was, should we say, excruciatingly uncomfortable. Many have described it as terrible, and I believe they were right. For me, this is not the case. It \sjust…was. It was excruciating. It was painful. He attempted to back out of the deal since, um…ya know…inserting tab A into slot B was a difficult task for him. In particular, while I was using a condom (I may have been young and naive, but I was by no means foolish). In terms of foreplay, there wasn’t much.
I’m sure there was blood involved, but I don’t recall any particular instances. The gentlemanly manner in which he handled it was adequate. Moreover, he plainly did not have the level of expertise I had assumed. His performance was questionable, considering he had clearly not had much practice before to this point.
The fumbling and stumbling were fairly noticeable. Someone’s extra room had been left vacant. Perhaps we had little more than blankets and a sleeping bag. Not even a mattress on the floor, if that’s what you’re talking about! No, that was not a romantic evening. What if it’s a tender time? Nope.
Instead of playing, it was more like doing homework.
In terms of my own motivation, I just wanted to participate in the event. Please, let it be done. Learn what the big deal was by reading on. Upon further investigation, the situation turned out to be non-event. Not my cup of tea. Although I didn’t like it, I didn’t dislike it either.
His subsequent silence was deafening.
According to my mother, I was able to get away with that meeting, but later on I believe I was punished for some other fictitious infraction. As a result, I ultimately came to the (inevitable) conclusion that if I was going to do the time, I may as well do it for the right reasons. Even more so considering that I had already made a mistake.
As a result, going to a kegger was just the natural next step. There, I ran across the other female he’d been hanging out with the previous night. Additionally, he had not talked to her since. It didn’t take long for us to become close friends, and he was forced to go after receiving so much crap for being an asshole by both of us.
That was the end of it.
Everything was done in a completely unbiased and objective manner.
Instead of attempting to maintain a relationship via sex, I should have known better. This is something I wish I had learned from my previous experience. Men (boys) desire sex, and that is what I learnt from that experience, regrettably. You must also provide sex in order to attract a guy. However, you have the option to do it on your own terms and conditions of employment. You must, however, complete the task at hand.
My buddy, the one who told me she had lost her virginity, should have mentioned the bit about how it was rape in her story, as well, I think. After nearly six years, she finally admitted it to me. My desire to hit that individual has not diminished.
Since then, has my perspective regarding sex shifted? That is certainly the case!
My attitude toward my mum has shifted. No.
Discuss sex with your children! Openly! Honestly! Make it clear that they should wait, but don’t make it a big deal! Learn to respect the other sex by teaching them this. Instill a positive attitude about sex in their minds and hearts.
I didn’t have a bad experience the first time I tried anything new. But it’s possible that I could have done it better. As for retraining my brain, I had a long road ahead of me to learn what I needed to know and how I should think about sex once I got there.
