A Confession Of A Sex Addict

I watched him stride in, and I automatically knew that he was coming to talk about sex simply by the way he carried himself. It was just the general procedure with these type of men, seemingly confident, so secure in their walk, in their talk.

Then they just broke down, right in front of my eyes, as if it had been swelling inside of their heart for so long, that finally it just exploded out of their mouths. All of the shit hit the fan after that, seeing as how when they finally collapsed, they rarely went to their next schedule appointment. It was sort of an ego type of excuse, but it was always something like, I was sick, I had to work, or some other excuse.

I never cared seeing as they were never permanent really. I only had one patient that had been a weekly thing for two years, and that was devastatingly long. She always had problems to discuss or whatever, never wanted to really confront what her real problem was, that she was a slut, and always would be a slut.

There was no point in denying it any longer or trying to excuse herself, but anyway, back to the current patient. It was his first time, and so, he was very aware of himself sitting on the sofa across from my comfortable chair. So, watching him, I expected the first visit to be something along the lines of small talk with a few hints as to his problems.

After we both broke down the barriers of our relationship, I looked at his sheet, to see what his dilemma was exactly. It was written down in the plain cursive as excessive sexual desire. I called it, I thought to myself with an arched brow as I told him to start by telling me what happened today, any thoughts that he had about his troubles. I did not say the words sexual desire or any of that, I always let the patients go ahead and let me know if they wanted to. He began with describing his day.

Now for some, this was done with a simple, oh it was fine, this and this happened, but not Craig Gallent, as was his name. He wanted to tell me in specific detail, including times and listed events, which was why he began with morning sex from his wife. Missionary style, 15 minutes of her moaning had been enough to wake him up, and then a shrug of his shoulders, before he moved on, saying, because he was never satisfied with her sex. Boring, he called it. I scribbled down a few notes, interrupting with a simple question.

"Do you ever have problems with erection?" I asked plainly.

He smiled crookedly and shook his head, very nonchalantly, which would have left any other women thinking he was a pompous prick, but I simply just nodded and to go on, very bored myself if every one of his sexual encounters was going to be described like that one, quick and simple.

So, he went on to talk about his day at work, talking about a girl that was too beautiful, and ultimately, out of his league, for some reason. I did not really understand why he would think anyone was out of his league.

Other than being slightly overweight due to the gut hanging over his pants a few inches, he was relatively good looking. Jet black hair, tall stature, broad shoulders and a husky build, with crystal blue eyes, he looked like a professional lawyer or something.

From the way he spoke of work, it was some sort of firm, possibly accounting, maybe even a doctor himself, but I would have received a note if he was, a referral of some sort from his hospital. I let him continue talking though, not wanting to say he was handsome and should not worry about that, even though that might have been something I would have said before I became a shrink.

I now knew that people did not really want to hear that, and those that did, were only looking for approval and acceptance. I was just wondering why he wanted to cure his sexual addiction when if the sex was like that with his wife, he should just try to spice things up. That was when he told me about his other lover.

He talked in a throaty deep boive."She has very nice beasts. I mean, the ones where you just see them hanging out of a shirt and automatically want to suck on the nipples to see if there as real as they look. I can usually tell though, but anyway, she's quite pretty, though not as good looking as Alicia. I usually give her a call while I'm at work to see if she would be up for something later, but today I had to come here, so of course our meeting was cut short. Long enough for an insane blow job. She's really good at those, almost better than sex. Haha, almost. I'm supposed to see her after I'm done here, but I got paged by the lady at home while I was waiting to see you, so I'm pretty sure that I can't do that tonight."

I nodded along, staying objective throughout his whole description. I never really said much, just guided the conversation when I could. Mostly, people just wanted to talk anyway, and Craig had no problems in doing so, so I just listened and pointed out this or that throughout the rest of our questions and answer. I poised this question to him, wondering out of curiosity what exactly made him think he had a problem with his sexual activity.

"How many times do you have intercourse per day?" I asked.

He sighed and laid down on his back as he shrugged and tried to find a good answer. "Depends on the day I suppose. Throughout the week, I only get to see one of three women, so about 3 to 5 times per day, but on the weekends, you know, it just skyrockets from there, probably to about 10 to even 20 times per day one time. Possibly 19 seeing as it was within one night, and it all ran into morning."

I jotted down his answers, and I was curious, thinking that he had to have a reason why he wasn't satisfied, he had to have a little inkling as to why. He lost his virginity when he was 14, a little young for his generation, but nevertheless, not very definitive.

He told me about his first few girlfriends, the one he lost it to having been his cousin, but through marriage. That was a little shocker, but he meant to do that I was sure. He added 'through marriage' with a laugh, thus knowing that I might be a little thrown off. This was the South, I thought in my head, but as if that was not enough, he got very serious as he told me a little secret, something I was sure no one else knew about.

"My first sexual dream HAD BEEN about my sister though, so I don't really know if I'm completely against incest. It is just one of those sexual experiences that you want to have under your belt before you get a certain age. I am well over that age," he explained.

He was 45, so he was not dead yet. I said again, in my usual medical indifference, "Well, did you ever tell her about your fantasy?"

"No I never knew my sister. I just met her once when I was really little. I always have wanted to meet her, now that we're older, just to see if she turned out all right," he responded.

This hit home with me. I spoke a little bit interested now, offering some of myself with my words, "Well, it's relatively hard to find your family when you're adopted. And I'm not just saying that because I have heard that it is, I'm adopted and I've tried finding my family several times. If they didn't want to be found at the time they were given up, then of course, you can't really go farther from there unless you hire an investigator of some sort, one that won't try to steal your money."

She shook her head, sighing as she let herself smile somewhat and continue, "It's a tricky business, but you know, if that was your first sexual image, then maybe you've been building up to that, needing to know what it was all about. I'm just going to let you know that sometimes when you're younger, things are a little confusing and it might not have exactly been so much as sexual as sensual."

"She was my half sister, different mothers, so I don't really know what her mother wanted for it. My dad never wanted another family," he set up another question for me to ask.

"Did your Dad have a lot of affairs when you were growing up?" I asked again, taking on my tone of indifference. I was actual a little bite more interested than before.

He went on to explain. "Yes, actually. My mother and him had an understanding that they were just married for me and my older sister, and once I was out of the house, they divorced. They were always seeing different people, bringing them into the house as guests, landscapers, this or that, to throw us off. I knew though. It was kind of hard not to because they were just so obvious. I mean, they would not even have uniforms on half of the time, or any equipment with them, and their cars were always regular Fords or Jeeps, never worker's trucks or anything. It was just smeared on that they were who they were, and I dealt with it. I guess I did not understand until high school what they were really doing."

That explained a lot now. His parents were sex addicts, and he saw all of their little escapades and understood them. No wonder, he was the way he was. I lifted a brow and questioned, "How long have you been married to your wife?"

"For about 15 years now." He let out a sigh, then raised his hands as he started to go back to the 'boring sex' mention. "It's not just the sex that's boring. She's just not very exciting herself. She's 46, and our relationship has just matured to a normal dinner around a normal table with the normal television programs, and when we have sex, I am left wondering what somebody else would have done with the time and effort I put into having sex with my wife."

"Tell me about the best sexual experience you've ever had, one where you were completely satisfied with yourself and the partner." I knew it sounded legit from my mouth, but it was completely for my own benefit, I was actually getting aroused by some of his stories.

"Okay. Do we have THAT long?" He laughed shaking his head to ensure I knew that was a joke, a very obvious and bad joke. I studied him as he spoke, his actions, how tense he was, how serious he was about the descriptions and such. I knew he was not lying. I knew that he was being sincere. He was a very serious man when he was not out to make himself seem bigger than he really was.

Sighing, he went on. "It was with this girl named Lydia. She was such a darling. This was when I was, hmm, I think teaching my last year at the high school where we used to live. She was 18 to my 37. I was teaching AP American History, and she was this overachiever type of student. She was constantly asking about extra credit and tutoring, which I did not give. I told her to go to the National Honors Society. I even recommended a student, who I knew was very intelligent because well, I had been intimate with her as well, but Lydia, she always wanted more. She was never satisfied with her grade, much like I am about sex."

He shifted in his couch, getting more comfortable. "She was always trying to improve her score, and I would just give her an A sometimes so I would not have to deal with her later. BUT, she still came to me and asked about something. I did not know what to do, so I said that I would go over the essay with her if she would like after school. She said she had volleyball practice and then a game, but I was always at the school until late because me and my wife were always having problems back then. Something about me not making enough money for the family."

Again, he moved, as if adjusting himself because of the exciting fantasy he laid out and continued on, "So, I said that would be reason enough for me to stay late into the night, even if it would be stuck in my portable in the B.F.E. part of campus with nothing to do but grade papers and listen to the radio. She agreed, seeing as how we were about to have a test that needed to ACE to finish the semester with an A. So, we went our separate ways, and I finished grading all my papers, even started up a new lesson plan, while listening to the radio.

He sighs, reaching to scratch and talking still about his fantasy, "I decided to go and watch a little bit of the Varsity volleyball game which was in the gym right next to my classroom. So, I went and stood in the door. I had remembered volleyball from high school, but not to be a pervert or anything, I did not know that their uniforms had changed so much. There was Lydia. She was an outside hitter. Her spandex shorts were curved right up into the crack of butt. About that time I was making sure that it was okay to be staring at her, but I knew she was 18 from the cards I made them fill out at the beginning of the semester, her birthday had actually just passed."

He turned back to me for a glance, but I pretended to be writing something down on my little pad, thinking these images over in my head.

He continued on, after a pause, "I watched her play for a good half hour. The way she run, and her attacks were so accurate. She was so in control of herself, very confident, like she was pretty much in my class, except for when she thought nothing was ever good enough. I noticed how her breasts roamed around underneath her shirt as she ran and jumped, walked around the court like she owned it. I guess that's how she had to be."

He paused and took a breath, before continuing. "She always wore jeans due to our strict dress code, so seeing that much skin of her legs was mind-blowing. She had very tan legs, all lean muscle which made her skin stretch tight against her muscles when they flexed. At one point, she crouched, and her butt was bent out to where the I started to think about having anal sex with her. I was sure that it would be very tight, as she did not seem to be very easy around the guys in the class. She was a popular girl, of course, but I never did catch her talking about sex or dates to anyone."

There was another pause, and then he started once more, "I walked back to the classroom and then to the back of the portable to have a smoke. I knew I would need it, as I was just so incredibly turned on, like I had not been for awhile. My dick was the reason I left the game early. I was having trouble hiding my erection, so I stood and smoked, thought about football, thought about baseball, thought about golf. It finally went down before I heard the knock on the classroom door. I entered from the back, nearer to where I was, and then headed through the classroom to the front, where I unlocked it and opened it for her. She was still in her uniform but she had put on track points. That was very disappointing. I didn't really say much to her except for asking her about if they won or not. She said that she came right after, she didn't even stop to change out of her shorts or socks, which I instinctively looked at to see. Yep, she was wearing her socks and sandals."

I could not believe the things he was telling me, someone who could get him into so much trouble if I weren't liable for being under oath.

Still I listened to him talk as he said, "We started talking about her essay, but that was not really the problem. She thought that she just was not prepared for the mid-term. I explained to her about what it was going to be on, the layout, and everything, but every time,I looked up at her, she was staring at my eyes and not the paper. It made me smile every time. Anyway, we finished talking about the test, and I was thinking that that was all. I had to get home, and I really didn't think I could take another minute of her leaning over, so that I could see right down through her open collar to her breasts which were trapped in a sports bra, also to my disappointment."

His explanations grew more throaty, as he went on, "She gathered up her books and stood up with me, her ass going right into my crotch as I turned with her. I hadn't meant for that to happen, but I'm glad that it did now that I know what was to happen from that. She giggled and blushed, and I just shook my head with a slight chuckle, cause I was young and didn't care about anything like that. Then, she dropped a piece of paper or something, never really figured out what it was, but I don't think it was really anything cause she got down on her knees and looked up at me as she put whatever it was away. She asked if I thought she was a good student. I shrugged and said that she was, but she just needed to work harder at some things. She wanted to know if there was something specific, and I accidentally spoke my thoughts, which was, 'my cock, for one.' She blushed ever harder, but I was not apologizing and she was not backing away. She was actually continuing to look up at me with her big green eyes, so I just reached out and touched her face, which was glowing from the sweat of earlier. She was really pretty right then, but it could have been that I knew I was about to get some action from a girl half my age."

He told of the most explicit images with such a nonchalence, speaking of things like this, "I brought her up by my hand on the back of her neck and pressed her real close to me until our lips met gingerly, then more hungrily from my tongue entering into her mouth. She put her hands on my waist and I grabbed her ass with my free hand, wrapped my hand in her hair with the other, kissing her harder and more sexually since I slipped my hand under her track pants, then the spandex shorts and thong so I could grip her little ass. She moved away from the kiss and started to suck on my ear, which only turned me on more. My dick was hard as a rock from groping her butt and feeling her wet tongue over the sensitive skin of neck and hair. She was really feisty, biting and sucking hard on me. I got her down on her knees a few seconds later. I undid my slacks and she went straight to sucking on the head of my cock. She licked down the shaft and back up, before I pulled her by the arm with me as I sat down in my chair. She got on her knees in front of me and gripped the base of my cock in her hand. She kissed the tip and played with the slit with the end of her tongue, flicking and running the middle of her tongue along. My hand had been on her head, stroking her hair, then the side of her face. I slowly started to push her head down on it when she wrapped her lips around it. To my surprise, she was rather experienced in cocksucking cause she did not gag at all because she went straight to deepthroating all 8 inches. I grabbed up her hair and pushed it all the way down. She bobbed really nice, good rhythm, just like I was fucking a pussy."

My eyebrows raised as he said pussy, having always hated that word. I had been getting a little hot when he started describing the way he touched her hair and face, and then the blow jobs. I loved giving blow jobs, so I always wanted to know more about how other girls did them to their lovers or whatever. I looked at the clock, seeing that they only had about 20 minutes. He had been right, they were not going to have a lot of extra time to talk about the sex with her. I guessed that was a good thing, seeing as how when my pussy got wet, there was no going dry until it was satisfied, and unfortunately, all I had was my fingers. I was in the transition of moving from one city to another. My attention went back to him as he switched to the next action.

He continued, "I really needed to cum after that because I had been holding back the whole time. I really wasn't sure if I wanted to fuck a student, but I figured that I was already in it, so I might as well go for the whole nine if I was going to get into trouble for fucking her. I pulled her off, saliva around her mouth that she licked off while looking up at me. I told her she was a good cocksucker, that no one had ever gotten me to almost cum from a blow job, but that I was ready to bust. She then told me she was on birth control. So, I had my green light. I sat back and said she could stand up, cause I wanted her to strip. She got embarrassed, which was probably the only thing that bothers me about younger girls, you know. They're too afraid to show themselves to a man they haven't been dating or know really well. I started telling how hot she was, wanted her to strip for me so I could see it all. She asked if I had liked ever since she started my class, and I told her I had thought about her a couple of times. That of course got her to smile and relax. She took off her shirt and pushed down her track pants. She said that I should watch their practices cause she only wore her sports bra and spandex shorts during them. She also had very nice breasts. They were larger than that lover of mine I was telling you about before. Hers were perkier then too. They had to be 36d's, and I knew they were natural because what high school girl gets plastic surgery."