Confessions of a Sex Addict

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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 avcılar üniversiteli escort 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 avrupa yakası escort 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. bağdat caddesi escort 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

, 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

, 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
, female on top and a close-up of her wet love chamber taking in his male member. Classic Pose 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.

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