“I’ve finally figured it out.
I want to be force fucked. I’ve set it up. Next week, five guys, it is going to
happen,” she beamed.
Ms. Collins’ face stayed
neutral. “So, you are saying you have arranged an ambush. You are having some
men pretend to coerce you?” I was so thankful she didn’t say rape. Ms. Collins
was always careful. She had to be, she was leading a support group for sex
addicts.
Crystal nodded her head
cheerfully, clearly proud of herself.
What was I doing here?
Besides, sitting between Crystal’s gang rape fantasies and old man Charlie’s
foot fetish? Looking down to hide the contempt on my face, I was just beginning
to rethink my resolutions before Ms. Collins asked me to introduce myself
again. We had to at every meeting because half of the members rarely attended.
A long-term member would roll in after a particularly bad night.
Plastering on a forced smile,
I began, “Hi, I’m Loraine.” Last names were off limits. “As I said last time, I
am not a sex addict, but there isn’t a support group for my problem. So here I
am.”
“You could join the frigid
club if you don’t like us,” Crystal sneered.
Ms. Collin’s cleared her
throat. “Loraine is not frigid. She seeks out sexual pleasure as much as you.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Crystal continued
to study her nails.
“Loraine, please go on. We
have some lifetime members joining us today who have not heard about your
situation.”
Having rushed into the
meeting, I finally scanned the room to get the shock of my life. I tried not to
drool but across from me was the finest man I’d ever laid eyes on. Inhale, Loraine. Mortified, I couldn’t
lie. Most of the group heard my story on my first visit. Now I’d have to spew
my secret to the most desired, eligible bachelor in town. Always straight faced
and serious, he now squinted, scrutinizing me before a flash of recognition shone
on his face. Shit! His sultry eyes locked onto mine, I couldn’t read his
reaction but could tell he was really paying attention now.
What’s worse, Richard Mahoney was
my boss, the owner of the high scale restaurant I’d worked at for the last
month. Only thirty, only a little older than I was, there’s no way he should
ooze such sophistication. He was a fine wine where I was an American cheese.
Rick was the kind of man classic novels were written about, the big sexy fish
no one could catch. Sure, everyone called him Rick the dick at work, but the
man made women’s panties hit the floor, and he loved every second of it. Being
made of money, his main redeeming quality, at least for me was he’d worked hard
to make Table 21 the hottest place in town and hadn’t stopped working when he’d
succeeded. Even though he could be off playing golf on a tropical island
somewhere, Rick rolled his sleeves up and was in the middle of the action.
While I contemplated if
running out of the door would be just as embarrassing as speaking, Ms. Collins motioned
for me to go on. I’d have to; I’d promised my doctor and my mother I’d give
this a try. Assuring myself Rick’s presence alone meant he’d had to have heard
worse stories, my curiosity kicked in as I realized he was sitting in this
group of weirdos with me. Rick had his own demons, secrets no one in town had
even whispered about. He was a sex addict.
Finding my strength, I started
all over again. “Hi, my name is Loraine, and I am 25.” I shook my head. Why did
I say my age? “I am not addicted to sex but to getting off. I seek out men on a
nightly basis who are willing to do anything to please me. And they get nothing
in return.”
“Meaning?” Ms. Collins probed.
“Loraine, we all explain our addictions specifically in here.”
“I am addicted to being orally
pleasured but not having actual intercourse,” I said through my teeth.
I couldn’t miss Rick’s eyes
popping out of his head. “Have you had, um, intercourse before?” he asked in an
odd voice.
Looking away fast, I said
nothing. I didn’t want to have to go through this every time I came here. Of
course, a group of actual sex addicts would think I was the strange one.
Feeling exposed, I crossed my arms over my chest.
Ms. Collins patted my knee. “You
don’t have to answer his question, but we all heard it last week. Rick has been
with us a long time. He is a very supportive member and shares frequently.”
A girl with red hair snorted, causing
Ms. Collins to give her a look of death. I spotted her nametag, Diane.
“No, I haven’t had intercourse.
I’ve never been penetrated by a man, by anything,” I answered clearly and
concisely. Maybe the questions would stop, but I doubted it.
“So you’re still a virgin?”
Rick uttered slowly, noticeably shocked.
Eyeing Ms. Collins instead of
anyone else, I blew out a breath of frustration. I so didn’t feel like a
virgin. “Actually, my hymen is broken.” I knew that didn’t really mean anything
after my doctor explained it, but it shut most people up. “I’ve been given the
option to go through some physical therapy to try to help,” I managed to get
out next. I‘d also flat out refused.
Ms. Collins provided a
reassuring smile. “If you would like to share first, go ahead.”
Nodding to her, I remembered I
needed this, to be understood. My therapist said it was necessary to share with
people other than my mother and him. He said what I had wasn’t just a problem
but an addiction. That I needed rehab but this would have to do. Here I
promised not to behave badly, but came to confess my sins weekly when I did
anyway. Maybe these confessions would help me make sense of myself.
“Last night, I went out to a
club with a girlfriend,” I said keeping things as vague thus anonymous as
possible.
Crystal perked up. “Lesbian?”
“No, a female friend. I met
this guy, a college student. I have been out of college a few years now.
Anyway, he was an easy target.”
“Meaning?” Diane, the red head
interrupted to huffs from other members. “Trust me this is the good part,” she
told Rick, touching his leg.
“Meaning, he was harmless. He
was hot enough, they all are, but he was naïve. I could tell he would be
thrilled someone like me chose him over his more popular friends. He'd be
thrown off guard that I wanted to go somewhere more private instead of getting
to know each other. We went back to his dorm, not to his room, but to the
showers. He got down on his knees, pulled my jeans down and ate me out. I was
in control, standing, leaning against the wall with my hands in his hair like I
was a guy getting my dick sucked.” Just remembering it caused my nipples to
harden as I tried not to squirm in my plastic seat.
“What happened next?” Ms.
Collins directed.
“I got off and made my excuses
to leave soon after.” I shrugged then laughed, “He was pretty, pissed. I don’t
think he’ll call.” I didn’t give him my number.
“So you are a cock tease,”
Rick blurted out.
“Now Rick, Loraine has tried
to go all the way but found she can’t. It may be a phobia,” Ms. Collins studied
me with her pencil to her chin. “You have no experiences with abuse, right?”
“None,” I answered honestly.
It was usually the first and last question ever asked. After I denied abuse of
any kind, no one took my problem seriously.
“Yeah, right. Just a cock
tease,” Rick mumbled to old man Charlie.
Richard Maloney, striking
black hair and light blue eyes with a statuesque body or not, was really
starting to piss me off. “I am not a tease!” I almost shrieked. “How many times
have you gotten your dick sucked and didn’t return the favor, not even had sex
afterwards?” I challenged. Guys did that sort of thing all the time, at least
in the movies. I’d never been able to date one very long.
Rick shrugged. I was right.
Crystal spoke up, “Rick won’t
eat pussy. He’s not scared of it; he’s just too good for it. I for one have
never slept a man who wouldn’t go down.”
Old man Charlie babbled, “I’d
ram my rod up that tight pussy, fix Loraine right quick.”
“Mmm hmm,” Rick agreed.
“Gentleman! That is enough.”
Ms. Collins scolded all of us and defended me gloriously to my embarrassment. Then
we discussed as a group how my behavior was dangerous, no matter how careful I
thought I was. Plotting daily to find sexual enjoyment had taken over my life.
The others related their problems to my own. We all vowed to change, but that
was easier said than done. We weren’t stupid; we were addicted.
After class, I spoke to Ms.
Collins alone to tell her Rick was my boss. Reminding me he signed the same agreement
I did, she added, “We all have secrets here. There has never been an issue with
anyone in the group breaking our pact.” That explained why I hadn’t heard of
Rick coming here. I wanted to be comforted by her assurances, but I didn’t need
any more trouble in my life. Never having told my secret before in this group,
I left the community center more troubled than ever.
