My Sex Addiction Story 2

KAREN
I’m an inquisitive southern girl who has ended herself in a little town in rural Texas. My year of birth was 1989.
That would make me twenty-three years old. While still very young, I’m old enough that I’m just beginning to feel comfortable with being open about my sexuality, even if things are a little…confusing at the moment.

 

 

In my case, the distinctions between my sexual orientation and other people’s are unclear at best. I’ve been married to a beautiful guy for a number of years now, and we have two wonderful children. I’m over over heels in love with him, and the sex is just incredible. But there are moments when I genuinely feel like I’m missing out on something that may be similarly great, something that could satisfy this craving that’s been lurking around in the back of my mind. Let’s take a trip down memory lane to my youth.

 

 

My feelings for females have always been a source of concern for me. I know that seems so cliche, but it’s really true in this case. I recall thinking that my best friend was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen when I was five years old. I recall having a thing for my female teacher when I was seven years old.

 

 

 

 Around the age of eight or nine, things began to get more hazy. I was spending the night with a new acquaintance who was a little older than myself. I believe she was eleven at the time. Things went just as they did at any other sleepover, until we crawled into our respective beds for the night.

 

It’s difficult to recall precisely how things like that get started, particularly given how long ago it all occurred in the first place. Mostly, I recall lying in bed with the lights turned off and her mentioning something about kissing and how much she enjoyed doing it with her partner. The moment I realized it, our lips were already locked together. I’d never experienced anything like that before. It was just fantastic! Being in the dark, doing something I’d never done before, and doing it with someone I wasn’t even sure I was permitted to be doing it with were all terrifying experiences.

 

 

After a few seconds, she drew back and fixed me with her gaze. It took her almost a minute before she said anything.
Her question was, “Do you want to do it again?”
I smiled and nodded.
I was prepared this time around.

 

 

I had only convinced myself that I was prepared. With the second kiss, she managed to blow my mind even more. Even though our lips were in contact, this time she opened her mouth! I could feel her tongue attempting to make its way towards mine. I decided to go with it. It was even more thrilling than the one that came before it, and While I’m not sure I would have been able to express how I felt at the time, this was much more personal than before. For the first time, I was able to detect the precise softness of her lips. 

 

 

 

I could still taste the minty freshness of her toothpaste hanging in the air. I could see she was struggling to take a breath. I ran my fingers through her thick chestnut hair, just as I’d seen in the movies. It was very soft. I remember wanting it could have gone on forever.
That was my first and only encounter with kissing for a very long time to come after that.

 

 

 

After a few years, things returned to normal, for the most part. Like any other teenage girl, I had crushes on guys and celebrities, just like everyone else. When I was younger, boys would ask me to dances where we’d spin gently on the floor and perhaps hold hands. After that, I’d go out with one of my female friends for the evening and sleep there. With many of them, nothing out of the ordinary ever truly occurred.

 

 

There was one acquaintance who insisted on taking a shower with me every time. I couldn’t say no to her since she was so attractive. We didn’t do anything, not even a single thing, not even a single small thing. Even though we were only washing up together, it was a lot of fun and exhilarating to see her in that state. Unfortunately, this was one of several possibilities that I did not take advantage of.

 

 

 

I had my first relationship and my first genuine kiss from a male when I was fifteen years old. As a result, I suppose you could say that I am a bit of a late bloomer in this sense. At the very least, in compared to the rest of my circle of pals. My lack of interest in anybody was not due to a lack of interest in me; rather, I was just not really interested in any of them.

 

 

 

He was a good-natured young man. It’s a little punk rock, which is a style I still like, but it’s also incredibly clever, respectful, and, most importantly, humorous. I really loved him, and we spent the first few weeks of our relationship kissing like there was no tomorrow. Things were moving along at a rapid pace, both mentally and physically. After hearing so many horror tales, I didn’t want to get too physical until we had shown that we were a serious couple in terms of our relationship. 

 

 

 

Everything really started moving after he confessed his feelings for me.
The kissing was enjoyable and pleasant, but it was not quite as thrilling as I recalled it to be. Lots of sucking noises, as well as tongue and wetness. The sensation of touching and being touched was incomparably more stimulating. Before now, no one had ever touched me. It was almost like a sensory learning experience for me. 

 

 

 

The two of us came to the conclusion that my breasts, particularly my nipples, were very sensitive to being handled by hands that were not my own. I had my first orgasm with him, and it was the first one that wasn’t provided by yours truly. Every ounce of attention I was getting made me feel special. It felt fantastic, and I was head over heels in love.

 

 

 

I also gained a great deal of knowledge about paying attention. His penis was the first time I’d ever seen one in person. It felt substantial in my hands and was quite smooth. I was a bit disappointed, though, since it didn’t seem to be as sexy as I had hoped it would be. To be honest, it didn’t thrill me to play with it in the same way as it did to be played with. But I was in love with him, so I figured out what to do and how he liked it. It didn’t have the desired effect on me, but I did get some joy from knowing that I had given him pleasure despite my disappointment.

 

 

 

We went on to oral sex quite quickly, and I was dissatisfied with both ends of the experience. When he was down there, I felt a little self-conscious. What if it had a strange odor? What if I had a horrible taste? When you’re always concerned about whether or not you’re doing enough, it’s quite tough to relax and enjoy yourself. Giving wasn’t any more pleasant. I wasn’t sure what I should do with my mouth at the time. I had a lot of gags.

 

 

 

We were together for two years. Things were never able to develop to the point of penetration. The first time we attempted it, I wasn’t ready. I was apprehensive. I wasn’t in the mood at the time. I wasn’t even wet at the time.

 

 

He attempted to press his way inside me. It happened slowly, but it ached all the same. It was fortunate that he stopped when I asked him to. Looking back, I have conflicting emotions about the time I spent waiting. On the one hand, I didn’t feel like I was fully ready for sex. On the other hand, we were really in love with one other, which is something I’m not sure I can say about the person with whom I did indeed lose my virginity.

 

 

 

In my first semester of my freshman year of college, I was eighteen years old and a virgin, and I couldn’t have been happier. I was meeting new acquaintances, attending parties, and consuming copious amounts of alcohol. One night, my roommate and I went to a frat party with some friends. A group of men and a few of us females were sitting around a bonfire outside the home, which was quite relaxed back for the most part. It was a welcome break from the large home parties and after-parties that we were used to attending.

 

 

After an hour or so and a few of drinks, the attractive young lady from my math class arrived. It turns out she was acquainted with a number of the same men as us; we simply weren’t aware of it until she showed up at the party and revealed herself to us.

 

 

She looked around and realized there was no place for her to sit. All of the chairs and improvised seats had already been claimed by other people. Across the fire from me, she was looking about, waiting for someone to rise to their feet. She took notice of me. When I waved hello, I received a warm grin in reply. It was a pleasant surprise when she came over and sat on my lap. It wasn’t uncommon for me to have another female sit on my lap, but it was usually someone with whom I had previously developed a close friendship. We were merely casual friends at the time.

 

 

 

I recall her as being incredibly light in weight. She was far lighter than I had anticipated. It didn’t seem awkward at all to have her in the room with me. After a few minutes, we were laughing and joking with each other, and the majority of the guys had stopped staring at us as well. She reached into the large purse she’d brought with her and pulled out a bottle of Smirnoff vodka that was almost completely empty. 

 

 

 

The night was getting colder, and she seemed to be snuggling up against me a little more. It made my heart skip a beat to think that she was so close to me at the time. I wasn’t sure why she was there, but it seemed like she really wanted to be there. It piqued my interest.

 

 

By the end of the night, I was quite inebriated, and I had come to really enjoy her. We’d already consumed the most of the vodka and had many pretty hot kisses by the fire. Moreover, it happened directly in front of everyone! I have to say that no one appeared to be bothered by the sight, and I wasn’t opposed to allowing it to take place.

 

 

 

My answer was immediate when she inquired whether I would be interested in returning to her home. I was pumped up as a result of her conduct and the vodka, and I was prepared for whatever was going to happen. We drove the five minutes to her house in her 2007 car. Mustang returns to her teeny-weeny efficiency flat. It seemed like there was electricity between us every second of that vehicle ride.

 

 

 

Was I truly going to become the object of one of my most long-held fantasies? After just one encounter with a male partner?! I was, and I was giddy with excitement.
We parked the vehicle in her designated parking area and got out of the car together. She opened the door and we almost fell into one other’s arms as we walked in. 

 

 

We returned to the bed and closed the door behind us, our garments falling to the floor as we did so. She took off both my bra and hers, and we were both down to our underwear by then. I was still wearing my socks, which was a source of embarrassment. The fact that it was one of those little touches is something I’m certain I’ll never forget. Her petite, silky, and gentle hands were like a piece of paradise on my flesh.

 

 

Even with the lights turned off, she looked stunning in my opinion. In my fingertips, her shoulder-length brown hair with slight highlights felt smooth and flowing, like it was made of silk. Big brown doe eyes stared back at me from opposite sides of the room, each overflowing with hunger. Her skin seemed creamy and delicate due to the little amount of moonlight that was coming in through the drapes and curtains.

 

 

I was still really inebriated at this time. The sound of the door opening drew my attention. There was one of the frat lads in attendance. I wasn’t frightened since it seemed as if she was anticipating him. In fact, it piqued my interest. The evening was about to take yet another unexpected turn.

 

 

She indicated for him to join us on our bed, and he did. A niggling part of my brain was suggesting that maybe losing my virginity in a threesome wasn’t the greatest choice. I ignored it. The burning between my legs, on the other hand, told me differently.
He came over to me first, removing his clothing while he kissed me and putting us down in a fetal position on the floor. I’m not sure which of them was responsible for removing my underwear, but two sets of fingers tracked me down. 

 

 

 

We spent a few minutes in this manner, kissing and caressing one other, and then they touched me. She motioned for him to step aside, stating that she needed a few minutes alone with me. It didn’t bother me in the least. Her personality appealed to me more. She was attractive and amusing, and her hands were gentler and knew precisely where to place their fingertips.

 

 

 

I wish I could report that we were able to keep the party going late into the night, but the booze got to me. No more lying down for me, no matter how much the rest of me wanted to give up and give up hard! I ended up becoming ill and had to contact another buddy to come and pick me up from the hospital. There were no virginities lost that night.

 

 

That was the most significant and rewarding encounter I’d had with another female to date. Looking back, I regret having had such a large amount of alcoholic beverages. Many times I ponder what precisely would have occurred if I had been allowed to continue living. What if anything would be different now, if anything at all?

 

 

It was only a couple of months later that I realized I had lost my virginity. It happened with a man who I had been dating just a few days before the previous event occurred. Despite the fact that he had a reputation for sleeping around, he insisted that I was different. He said that he wanted to be cautious with me since I was a virgin. In the event that I did not want it, he did not want to take it away from me. 

 

 

 

We did it because we believed we were in love with one other.
However, for the most part, it was a major disappointment. I wish I could say it was memorable for all the right reasons, but for the most part, it was a disappointment. It took us an eternity to get my roommate to go, and then we realized that we had forgotten to bring a condom with us. It was necessary to make a trip to the petrol station. When we returned, we hurried to get started. I didn’t spend more than five minutes on it. And it was painful. After all of the events and excitement of the previous several months, I had hoped for a much more relaxing experience this time around. 

 

 

 

After that, we went on a few dates together. He was completely unconcerned with my enjoyment at any point throughout the conversation. In the following years, I would have a few of additional sexual experiences, but nothing particularly noteworthy.
Today, I’m happily married to a wonderful man whom I’ve known my whole life. We’re a match made in heaven, like peanut butter and jelly.

 

 

 

 

 I adore being married, and I’m really happy in my marriage, but I feel like I’ve lost out on some of the experiences I’d hoped to have. As we spoke, he is open to the idea of my exploring if I can find the perfect female who is willing to take on the challenge. That is, however, complicated by the fact that I am unsure of how to track down this woman.

 

 

 

First and foremost, I am married. For the vast majority of individuals, this is very off-putting.
They believe it is incorrect. It’s difficult to convey to children that this is something my spouse and I have agreed on in a manner that they can comprehend and justify to their own minds. The option of meeting a female in a bar might be more convenient, but I wouldn’t want to be the cause of her drunken regret for whatever reason.

 

 

 

Second, finding a female who is interested in a physical same-sex relationship is a lot more difficult than you may anticipate. It’s true that a lot of females my age will kiss other girls, but in my experience, it’s more of a “fun trick” for them than anything more. It’s not something they’d want to pursue in the future, either. That is deceptive to me, and attempting to figure out what to do next often results in the ruination of what was, or might have been, a wonderful and enduring connection.

 

 

 

With the benefit of hindsight and while writing this, I’ve come to recognize that most of my contacts with women have been motivated by desire and physical attraction, but the majority of my encounters with males have been motivated by emotion. No, I don’t rule out the possibility of developing an emotional attachment to another female, but I will admit that I am unsure of what this finding indicates about myself. I’m still not sure where I stand in terms of my sexuality at times. 

 

 

 

Though I’ve spoken with my spouse about the matter, it’s still difficult for me to figure out the best course of action to take. With any luck, I’ll be able to make some choices and locate a female who will be willing to assist me on my journey of self-discovery. Until then, I’ll continue to daydream.