Look, I'd like to say it was my husband's fault – but that's simply bullshit. There's no blame here. I have to question the use of "blame" anyway, since I'm the one who thought about it, who fantasized about it, who initiated it and who went through with it. And I'm also the one who plans to continue doing it.
Well, that's what I'm here to tell you. In my case, "it" is sex. Sex with men. Many men. Sex with an occasional woman or two. Sex with strangers. Sex in the morning, the afternoon and at night. Sex in dark corners and under bright lights. Sex on film. Sex in public. Sex any time I get the urge, in any place where I get the urge.
Got your attention? Thought so.
There's lots written (mostly porn, of course) about "nymphomaniac women." But it seems to me that that's a lot of crap. It's a misogynistic, derogatory way to deal with women who like sex as much as men do. Our culture still has unspoken and undistinguished moral judgements about women who are aggressive about sex. Nymphomania seems to conjure up images of out of control, insatiable women who have something wrong with them because they aren't like the nice girls guys want to marry. I'm not some out of control slut controlled solely by my hormones and my pussy. I am a very lusty woman who enjoys sex, who is open about it and has preferences. Call me a "nympho" and I'll throw you out of bed and out of my door.
Got it?
First off, I grew up in a household where nudity was common. My folks walked around naked. My sisters, brothers and I did as well. That was simply the way it was in our house (and we knew it was different elsewhere, of course.). Once we each turned eighteen, however, our version of "the talk" included how Mom and Dad were swingers, members of a large community in our home town. It was kind of a shock, at eighteen, to learn that not only did my parents have a lot of sex in their life, but they had it with other people. And some of those other people were the parents of friends. People we related to as family! One result of that conversation was that all of us got a happy, healthy start to our sex lives with people we knew. All that meant was that sex was open, visible and normal. We learned the rules about it as well – how it wasn't a common way of living and we had to be careful about who and how we talked about it.
And yes, it also meant that as we each hit the "age of consent" we became sex partners with our older brothers and sisters. And their friends. And. Sometimes, their parents! Nothing creepy or forced – just a physical expression of love. It made for some awkward moments as we grew up – like the time my older brother's girl friend came by unannounced with her parents, or our favorite rite of passage – greeting the Jehovah's Witnesses who came to proselytize during group sex. In the nude.
When I look back, Mom and Dad really did manage to keep the sex-with-other-people part of their relationship closed and private with each of us until then. We've all compared notes since the last of us turned eighteen, and while we could all admit that we knew something was going on, finding out had been mind-blowing for us all!
Given that I had been masturbating for at least a year, the revelation and subsequent "opening of the flood gates" was like stepping into heaven! I was taught how to suck cock by a number of Mom's friends – seems they had competitions, so they were all interested in expanding the field. Their husbands were obviously willing practice "dummies." I learned about eating pussy from those same women; the men made sure I knew about fucking, anal, dp's and more. The summer between high school and college was an amazing time, let me tell you.
I calmed down a bit at college – first off, I was at an all girls school, and among strangers. The open atmosphere at home was a contrast to suddenly being surrounded by people whose preferences were unknown. I eventually hit it off with one of my three roommates, and we became lovers. She seemed amazed at what and how I loved loving her. I was actually thrilled to keep surprising her with new ways to provide pleasure. Eventually, the four of us were lovers. There was enough sex that I didn't really miss cock – dildos and vibrators don't fall asleep or go flaccid, after all. Besides, Mom and Dad made sure that when I was coming home for holidays there was always a party of "friends." The first time one of my roommates came home with me it was insane! I loved it, my brothers and sisters loved it, and eventually their girlfriends and boyfriends learned to love it or their relationships ended. My sisters in law and brothers in law are all part of our circle of love.
All good things come to an end, they say. Dad had a heart attack while I was a junior, and Mom was consumed with caring for him. Sex wasn't anything she had time for – but that community of swingers were still her friends, and they kept her spirits up as Dad's health declined. While some think that sex and love are separate – the community at home had them fused together. Their love for Dad and Mom helped her get through his death, although it was barely three months later that she died.
After that, I wasn't ever "in the mood." I woke up to being on my own, and it scared me a bit. So I put my efforts into school work, and rarely had time for sex with the girls or anyone else. I managed to graduate cum laude. My brothers and sisters were there for that, and we had a warm, loving time while they were there. But soon enough, I really was on my own, tackling a job in a different city. Sex took a back seat to career – although now that I was on my own, in my own place, I managed to buy a Sybian second-hand for those (now) rare moments when I thought about sex.
It had been about six months of that when I met Tommy. He was a regular client of my boss, and we began to talk and then flirt on his visits. He eventually asked me out and was a perfect gentleman, but when he kissed me good night on our first date I felt something stir that I hadn't realized I was missing. My libido suddenly woke up!
He really was a gentleman and didn't do more than kiss me on that first date – but boy, did he KISS me! As I walked into my apartment afterwards, my pussy was suddenly soaked with moisture. That night I spent two hours on my Sybian!
The next time he came into the office, we went out to lunch together. It was a sunny day and we walked to an outdoor café a block away. As we sat there in the sun, I locked eyes with him, then slowly and deliberately unbuttoned two buttons of my shirt. Leaning forward, I knew my boobs were very visible to him.
"Tommy, your kiss awoke a sleeping dragon the other night. I want you to know that I've been neglecting my sex life for more than a year. If you want it, you are about to become the recipient of a very horny woman's attention. Of course, you can decline..." As I finished, I took a breadstick from the table and put it to my lips and pretended it was a cock. His eyes nearly fell out of his head as he watched me devour it!
"I don't know" he said. "I'm not really that kind of guy. I don't usually put out until the third date." He said with a disarming smile that had us both burst out laughing.
"Let's see. We already kissed once. This counts (in my book, anyway) as a second date. That means the next time we go out I get to have my way with you!" I replied, arching my back and drawing attention to my chest. He wasn't the only one looking (guys are always looking, after all) but he got the best view. Then buttoning up, I excused myself to the ladies room. When I returned, I took his hand and left him with my rather damp thong. You should have seen the look on his face! I wish I had recorded it! First puzzled by the unexpected, then attempting to figure out what it was, and then when he realized, it was as if a light went on inside him. His eyes dropped to my lap, then my tits, then my face.
"What time should I meet you for dinner?" He asked, grinning and leering at the same time. (Gleering?)
He picked me up at my office. We went to the parking structure to get in his car – and we started there. I found out how much he loves tits and nipples – I came just from his mouth and tongue on them. My bra was now undone and I didn't care. Then I returned the favor by exposing his eight inch, cut cock and then swallowing it all until he came down my throat. And I came when he did. I guess that's what they mean when they say "hotter than a firecracker."
