Kirsten is addicted to sex and it leads her to a world of depravity, and a mysterious woman who might just hold the answer to satisfying her compulsion.
ONE
Okay. I have a problem. I admit it. For years I'd tried to say I was normal. I'd tried to cope, even tried to deny it. But it'd been there for some time, growing, festering, until a couple of years ago when it'd become overwhelming. So absorbing, that I was forced to take steps to alleviate what had become an addiction.
You see the thing is, I like sex. I like sex a lot. Too much. I just love fucking. So much so that I don't care if it's with boys, girls or when necessity demands, just by myself. In fact it's not just that I like it. I need it. Anything does so long as I satisfy the monster between my thighs and and reach the bliss that waits at the pinnacle. That glorious moment when I come.
Every morning I wake with an ache in my pussy that I need to satisfy. I have to feel my soft damp flesh, make it burn and tingle until it consumes me. Again through the day hidden away in the toilet cubicles at work or parked up somewhere in my lunch break. By the evening I'm usually ready to go again with my laptop or phone as a ready source of inspiration. But my fingers can only satisfy for so long. A few weeks at most and masturbation just isn't enough anymore. I'm desperate for actual cock, or pussy.
I've had relationships. Boys and girls. One of each in fact. Serious ones that is. People I've loved and who've loved me back. But much as the constant need to fuck is fun at the start, neither were so keen after a few months. Eventually every one of my partners has admitted defeat and moved on, leaving me climbing the walls for a fix.
So a while back after Sophie dumped me I gave up hope on finding someone with the same drive and settled for quick fixes. It'd started more by luck than design. Then I'd told myself it was temporary. Just a phase to get me through. Now I was happy with it as a permanent arrangement.
Without shame or care I regularly flaunt myself in hotel receptions hoping to find that travelling businessman, or woman, who is happy for a quick fuck. An opportunity away from home for a few hours of no strings attached fun. People who give me what I need but don't leave me hurt by touching my soul, then walking away.
I don't care they have partners, husbands, wife's, girlfriends. Only that for one evening they can fuck me senseless to ease the agony that flows through my veins.
So. Before I go any further let me tell you a little about myself. My name is Kristen. Kirsten Forester. I'm twenty five years old, well educated, and I work as an Office Manager in a big household name insurance company. A little boring but it's well paid, and I'm good at it. Outwardly I appear to be a cute well groomed professional young lady. Conventional. To look at me you'd think I was a normal, well spoken, heterosexual young girl with a steady boyfriend heading towards eventual marriage, a mortgage, and perhaps a couple of children.
The truth is, I'm a predator. A danger to anyones son, daughter, husband or wife. I spend my days being polite on the phone, acting as an empathetic manager and managing my budget diligently. But all the while a primeval part of my brain is on the hunt. Assessing my employees and my bosses for their sexual potential. Checking the size of any suspicious bulge in a man's trousers or judging a girls tits for firmness. All the while wondering what it will be like to come on their cock or at the bequest of a hot mouth and agile tongue.
Thus far I've kept my animal instincts away from work apart from that one abortive attempt at a relationship a couple of years ago. Sophie. A sweet young girl in glasses from an adjoining office. It'd lasted a few months but like everyone else she'd eventually become exhausted by incessant demands and called it a day.
I'd even tried living with a lad when I was twenty. He was the love of my life as they always are at that age. We were soul mates. The man I'd marry and grow old with. To begin with the sex had been great. We did it everywhere, his apartment, my parents house, in the car, the local park, behind the pub, a nightclubs toilets. The list was endless. We even managed it in a department store changing room once when I couldn't wait to get him back home.
I'd moved into his rented flat and we were the perfect couple. Of course his needs died down eventually. As they do when sex is on tap. Mine didn't. If anything they grew. Six months and we were fighting. Me desperate for sex, all day, every day, and him practically accusing me of physical assault.
We're all a product of our biology right? Some people are predisposed to certain allergies. Others are born with natural talents that make them great sport stars. Driven to strive for the ultimate accolade. A fearless Formula One driver who can't stop going faster until he achieves that World Championship. Or the tennis player constantly practicing for Wimbledon. Each has that one special ingredient that makes them what they are.
For me it's my libido. And it won't stop until I achieve orgasm. Again and again and again.
So that is how I'd ended up in my current situation and on the path to becoming both hostage and master of my affliction.
Right now that situation was on my back in a hotel thirty minutes up the motorway in a town where no one knew me.
"Harder." I begged.
I couldn't even remember his name. Mark or Mike or something. It didn't matter a hoot so long as he fucked me good and proper.
"Uhh."
I had my legs wrapped high over his back, to pushing my pussy up onto his cock so that he penetrated me deeply. A hard thick shaft riding through the soft wet tender flesh of my tunnel. In and out with long hard thrusts as he grunted near to my ear.
A sweet smell of his sweat and aftershave filled my nostrils as surely as his cock filled my hole. Hot breaths tickled my shoulder and hands clasped mine, holding them up above my head against the bed. Freely moving tits wobbled against my ribs whenever he lifted himself, exciting me even further.
"Oh yes. Fuck me. Please."
I was bouncing on the mattress with each thrust into me. Each delightful, nerve tingling slide along his hot meat. It felt wonderful. A feeling of pure bliss that promised to explode over my whole body and send my brain into a moment of unthinking delirium any moment.
Above me I could see the ceiling. A white flat surface that helped me wipe all other thoughts from my head other than our bodies sliding together on a film of sweat, joined by the cock penetrating me.
"Aw. Fuck yes. I'm gonna come. Don't stop."
The pressure was building in my groin. So much so I felt as though I would piss myself. And then it hit. A tiny moment of euphoria.
"Uhhh.
Fuck."
I shuddered as my bean did it's thing. Jolts of joy raced up my spine as a quiver rode over flesh like a hot wave. My legs parted and fell aside of him as I spasmed.
"Yes. Yess."
A shaking voice attempting to put words to how I was feeling.
I struggled, breaking free of his grip.
"Stop. Stop." I protested as my head came out of the misty fuzz that'd momentarily gripped it.
"Finish in my mouth."
It must have been a dream come true for Mick or whatever his name was. Probably the prettiest girl he'd ever been with acting like a slut.
Sorry. I didn't mention that. I was a looker. No doubt. A brunette with perfect baby-soft skin and a pair of firm rounded tits that nicely fitted well sized hands. And then there was my hair. A crowning glory I was proud of. Thick and shiny it reached most of the way down my back. I loved it when a guy pulled on it while fucking me from behind, but that wasn't tonight. This guy had been strictly missionary, but that was okay. That was good to.
Mark rolled off me and I fell on his cock with the hunger of a tiger making it's first kill in a week.
"Fuck. Do it." He puffed.
It wasn't the biggest cock I'd seen. Average in fact. But it had good girth and a slight up turn. He was circumcised which meant his knob wasn't so sensitive. A nicey shaped purple mushroom that glided through my fingers on a film of slick body juices.
"Fuck. Be quick. I'm gonna explode any second." He begged still gasping.
I pulled his condom away and closed my lips over his crown, tasting his fluids, savouring the saltiness as it coated my tongue. I followed my hand back and forth along his shaft several times while my other hand gently squeezed his ball sack.
"Fuck."
Thick creamy cum filled my mouth with its warmth. I felt the hotness in his crown the moment before he came, I sensed his muscles pumping his juice. I even felt the pressure of it pulsating up his shaft. He came hard.
"Fuck." He cried again.
Another girl might have let it dribble out of her mouth as she gave the final few rides of his cock, spat into a tissue, or swallowed quickly. For me it was a fine wine to be swirled around my mouth and savoured. Slightly salty with a hint of sweetness. Fairly bland with just a whisper of something like aspirin. I loved the taste and the smooth creamy texture. Sometimes it was tangy, sometimes more watery, others could be thick and aggressive on the taste buds. Those times I might spit. This guys however, was as near perfect as you could get.
"Uhh. Girl. That was so fucking great."
He was relaxing, laying back as his cock softened in my hand. I stopped sucking and swallowed his load.
"Wow." I said sitting up.
He laughed.
"You're fucking good. You know that right?"
"I just enjoy sex." I responded.
"People are always good at what they enjoy."
This was the part where a boyfriend would mean cuddling up, making small talk and saying I love you. None of that for me. I didn't miss any of that so much. It was the sex I needed. I was hooked on the dopamine that heightened my enjoyment and the rush of oxytocin an orgasm released.
Yes I'd studied the mechanics on the internet. I needed to understand my problem. What it was that held me in its grip and why I found it impossible to say no to that tiny little hot button that tormented me from under its fleshy hood in my pussy.
With a stranger things were easy. We'd fucked. That was it. It was over. I had no emotional connection. No need for after play or reassurance.
"Mind if I use your shower quickly?"
"Go ahead."
"Thanks."
I caught a glimpse of the ring on his finger and felt perhaps a momentary guilt that I'd fucked another woman's husband. To be honest, most of my encounters were married. But then I always justified it by reasoning I'd only borrowed him. I wasn't after a relationship and there was no emotional connection. I wasn't taking his money. And I'd never see him again. It was just a few hours fun, much as if we'd gone go-karting or to watch a movie. In a few minutes I'd be gone forever and he'd be hers again. That he might, most probably was, a serial cheater wasn't my problem.
I gathered up my clothes letting him take a last look at my body as I headed into the bathroom. He'd done an immense favour for me. Letting him see my tits and arse for a final time was the least I could do. It'd be a memory he'd probably carry forever. I'd forget him the moment I walked out of the hotel. All focus would go to getting my next fix.
The trouble with business people was that the best time to find them was mid week. Tuesdays or Wednesdays were ideal. Never a Friday when they were all at home for the weekend. Occasionally I worked Saturdays and my days off fell in the week. But not often enough. Mostly I was juggling work and play at the same time. That left me exhausted in work the next day. It affected my concentration as it did now.
The girl sat in front of me was waiting expectantly for a response and my mind had wandered I realised.
"Sorry. I wasn't listening properly." I apologised.
That was remiss of me. As the girls manager it was my duty to treat her needs responsibly. To me a miss-booked holiday might be a minor issue. But to her it was probably the biggest issue of her day. I forced myself back into the real world.
"What were the dates again?"
"The twenty third of June to the sixth of July. It's just that I hadn't considered how long the journey back from the airport would take and..."
"It's okay Julie. I'll rebook it."
It took my department over our holiday allowance for one day. I could live with that.
"Thank you. That's a great worry of my mind."
"No problem."
"You look tired. Late night?"
"Yes. I was binge watching a box set." I lied.
"Yeah I do that sometimes. Easy to forget the time."
"Once you're into something you have to see it through to the climax." I replied smiling.
