The ménage à trios I'd had with Marsha and her lover kept my mind occupied for several days as I went through the motions of lecturing to my classes and keeping myself busy with work and other things not involving sex. I still had a sex craving; I still wanted to experience every cock and, after Marsha, every pussy I could. But I was becoming more and more aware that I had become addicted to sex. If I didn't get my sexual appetite under control, it was going to eat me alive.
The man I wanted to hear from most, Bill, hadn't contacted me since we'd made love on that rainy night when his wife thought he was working late. However, Dick had called several times during those days while I was trying to regain control of myself. Each time, I let his call go to voice mail, and with each message, he sounded more and more distant. It was as if his calls were one last attempt to break through the wall I had placed between us. I knew I'd have to deal with him sooner or later. I owed him that much. Almost two weeks had passed since we made love in his home. His latest phone message awaited when I dismissed my last class Thursday afternoon. I pressed the play button, knowing it would be Dick.
"Gen, please." He began, "We need to talk. I can't get you off my mind, Genevieve. Please call me."
Maybe I'd call him later that evening. After a quick dinner, I decided to try and relax with a warm bubble bath. I'd often used a relaxing bath to help me overcome writer's block. Perhaps it would help me solve my dilemma of what I'd say to Dick. I made myself a cup of tea and surrounded my bathtub with several candles. Turning on some soft jazz, I filled the tub with hot water and a thick layer of bubbles. Pulling my hair into a tight bun, I lowered my body into the soothing bubble bath. I leaned back and let the hot water relax my muscles, and the soft bubbles caress my skin. I closed my eyes and thought about the sexual path I was heading down.
My mind was telling me that my actions were wrong, but my body still craved the excitement of having men lust for me. I craved the feeling of intimacy when a man's cock throbbed inside me, craved the taste of sex, the sensual intensity of my orgasms. I craved the absolutely incredible feeling of having a man explode inside me, filling me with his warm seed.
Even the thought of those cravings excited me. My nipples became hard. The temptation to touch myself overwhelmed me. I slowly brought my soft hands up to cup my supple breasts, rolling the erect nipples between my thumbs and index fingers. My nipples tingled almost as much under my tender caresses as they did when a man touched or suckled on them. I lowered one hand below the veil of soapy bubbles and between my thighs. My middle finger found and spread the fleshy sheath covering my clit. Instantly, my loins came alive with tingling sensations of sexual pleasure.
I massaged my clit with one hand and my breasts with the other. My mind raced with the fantasy of a strong man entering the bath and fucking me on the edge of my tub. I wanted a man's touch; I needed a man's touch. I craved any man's pulsating cock. I slipped two fingers inside my pussy. It was hot and throbbing for something more massive. I grabbed the bubble bath bottle and pressed it between my aching pussy lips. Deeper and deeper, the neck plunged into me. As I worked that bottle feverishly inside my pussy the bath water began moving in waves from one end of the tub to the other, bubbles washing up over my tits and then back off again. Over and over, I plunged the bottle inside, over and over, the bubbles washed over my tits. Over and over, I imagined that bottle was a throbbing cock.
Waves of intense sexual pleasure joined the waves of bubbles as my body approached orgasm. It crashed into me like a tidal wave of ecstasy, and my muscles tensed as it peaked. I slowed the movement of the bottle as my orgasm began to subside. Releasing it from my pussy and hand, at the same time, it floated to the surface spreading the film of bubbles on the water as it did.
I lay there staring at that floating bottle, realizing that, once again, my body's craving for sexual release had won out over my mind's desire to bring myself back to some state of normalcy. My cravings had become uncontrollable. I couldn't even have a relaxing bubble bath without feeling the need for sexual release.
I whispered to myself, "Genevieve, you've become addicted to sex."
I had become addicted to sex, addicted to the sensation of sexual release. Addicted to throbbing erections and the taste of a man's cum. To the incredible feeling of hot sticky semen coating the walls of my pussy. I needed to feed my addiction and satisfy my sexual cravings. I dispelled all thoughts of normalcy and let my addiction and cravings control my actions.
Lifting from the tub, I quickly dried my body and went to my bedroom closet. No sexy lingerie, no silk stockings. A tight black tee shirt and skintight jeans, along with a pair of stiletto heels, would be all I needed to find the cock I craved. I pulled my hair out and let it cascade down my back. I grabbed a small handbag and dropped only the essentials inside: some cash, a bottle of red lip gloss, and my cell.
I had no use for a jacket to cover my hard nipples. I wanted them exposed to every man I approached. My Volvo was parked two spaces from the front of my building. Turning the key, I remembered that sexy bartender Jim at the East Street Café. He'd be my mark tonight, the next man I'd surrender my body to.
The East Street parking lot was nearly empty when I got there. I took a space off to the side and toward the back of the lot. Looking in my rearview mirror, I applied a layer of lip gloss and pursed my lips to ensure the coating was evenly applied. I dropped the bottle of gloss in my purse and tweaked my nipples to make them stand out even more.
I couldn't wait to see if Jim worked behind the bar tonight. As I opened the door and entered the dimly lit bar room, my question was answered. Jim was at the far end of the bar, talking with the remaining couple still seated at his bar. Everyone else was finishing their evening meal in the dining room. I took the first stool I came to and sat down.
Jim excused himself from his conversation with the couple and slowly walked toward me. His hands came to rest on the back edge of the bar. He looked at me, almost sizing me up before he said, "Evening, Gen; what can I get you?"
"A white wine, please," I said, smiling widely at him.
He'd remembered my name, and I'm sure my tits as well.
As he returned with my wine, Jim said, "This is last call, Gen. We close at nine tonight.
I replied, "Why so early, Jim?"
He smiled at me when he realized I'd remembered his name.
"No business after the diner crowd, hun. All the college kids are after dollar drafts by this time,” he explained.
The couple at the other end of the bar finished their drinks and stood to leave.
"Can you lock up Jim?" the male said.
"No problem, boss,” Jim replied.
They walked past where I was sitting, and I noticed the owner of the café take a long lingering look at my body. He smiled when he was sure his wife wasn't looking.
As they left, Jim said, "I'll be right back, Gen, and we can chat."
He walked to the far end and came around the bar. Closing and locking the door to the dining room, he grabbed his drink and walked along the bar to where I was seated.
"Let me lock up Gen. I'd rather not have any late customers,” he said, knowing exactly why I was there.
He turned the stick hanging alongside the door's window, closing the mini blinds tightly, and I heard the deadbolt slide into the door jam.
Turning back to me, he said, "We won't be interrupted."
Sitting beside me, he asked the obvious question, "So what brings you here so late, hun?"
I liked how he called me hun, and I liked that he was forward enough to lock us inside and turn his place of employment into our private room.
"Well, Jim, ever since the night we met, I haven't been able to get your sexy smile off my mind,” I lied to him.
"Really, Gen," he said. "I haven't been able to get your sweet tits off mine,” Jim added.
I turned toward him and arched my back, pressing my erect nipples harder against my black tee.
"You mean these tits?" I said seductively, shaking my shoulders.
His hand instantly moved to capture one swaying orb through my shirt.
"Absolutely, hun,” he replied.
I pressed my chest harder against his hand, my erect nipple burning through the fabric and into his palm. His other hand slid up to begin massaging my other breast. I could feel the juices start to flow inside my pussy as he caressed my tits.
I moaned, feeling the tingling I craved so much begin once again. My hands slid to his thighs and moved slowly up to touch the visible bulge in his jeans.
His cock was fully erect, straining for release from the tight confines of his pants. I ran my fingertips along the length of his bulging cock. "I love what I'm feeling here,” I said
"You're one hot little minx,” he replied.
His hands slid to my waist, and in one quick upward motion, my tight tee shirt was gone. My long tresses cascaded down across my shoulders, covering my tits. He used two nimble fingers to flip my hair behind me and quickly leaned forward to capture one throbbing nipple between his lips. His hands slid to my tits, lifting them slightly to give his soft mouth better access to the fleshy sensitive orbs.
I continued sliding my delicate fingers along his rock-hard cock as he kissed, licked, and nibbled on my nipples. His mouth elicited a deep, sensual moan from my throat. The tingling in my tits grew in intensity as he worked his oral magic.
I wanted his cock exposed. I wanted the hot throbbing length of him sliding through my soft hands. Moving my hands to his shoulders, I pushed him away from my tits and slowly slid my fingertips down across his hard chest, scratching his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. My fingers reached their ultimate goal, and I quickly opened his zipper. One hand slipped inside to find he wasn't wearing any underwear. His cock jumped as I circled it with my fingers and withdrew it from the opening. It was rock hard, throbbing intensely and massive in its girth. My fingers barely touched my thumb as I slid my hand up along the shaft. The corona of his cock head spread my fingers and thumb apart as I slid my hand up. It was hard, smooth, and flared beautifully down from the tip of the head.