Nymphomania Pt 02

Lisa suffers from a demanding medical condition known as hypersexuality, often referred to by the more common name of nymphomania. Her body constantly craves hard driving hetero sex and her mind regularly fantasises about sexual situations. Starved of regular sex while her husband was overseas, her drought is extended when Mark is seriously injured in a car accident on his way home from the airport. Lisa takes up her story after hiring a young 22-year-old to mow the lawns, clean the pool and fuck her brains out three times a week.

Lisa Continues Her Story

Chapter Three

My life was becoming closer to normal and my mind was in a good place all day Thursday as I continued to revel in the wonderfully pleasurable memories of yesterday's sex session with Josh ... hopefully it was the first of several, albeit even many, yet to come until Mark recovers.

Then when I visited the hospital in the afternoon, the doctors conveyed just the best news I could hope for ... they intended to bring Mark out of his induced coma on Friday afternoon, probably around 2pm. Generally great news with just a minor setback, but the timing of when they intend to bring my husband back into the real world, is selfishly inconvenient to me. At 2pm Friday, I was expecting to be laying in the arms of my new temporary lover Josh, feeling his cock plundering my vagina once again.

For a moment, I was conflicted, tempted to work out how I could manage to be in two places that afternoon. The temptation of the flesh with a quickie from Josh and then a rush trip to the hospital to catch Mark being roused from his long slumber. As sorely tempted as I was, common sense kicked in and I accepted where my priorities should lay. Reluctantly, I called Josh that evening to ask him to cancel Friday and getting his confirmation that he would be there on Monday for me.

I spent all day Friday at the hospital, becoming more and more frustrated when the doctors didn't bring Mark out of his coma until after 5pm.

'I could have been with Josh for a few hours at least,'

I thought, annoyed at being deprived of a repeat of my new substitute conjugal arrangements.

Nevertheless, while much later than I had been promised, I was still happy to at last be able to communicate with my husband. The kids and I stayed with Mark on Friday evening until nearly midnight. He was talking normally and seemed to have reasonable memory so all the family were happy that he seemed to have suffered no brain damage from the accident.

I was back at the hospital on Saturday and stayed by Mark's bedside all day, even though there were long periods where he slept, having exhausted himself the previous night enjoying his first family communications in a week. You might be wondering how I felt sitting at my husband's bedside while still filled with vivid memories of my half-day in bed with my new substitute lover on Wednesday. Sure, I had guilt, particularly when Mark asked me in a low whisper how I was managing to cope without sex for so long. But I was certain that he would understand what the repercussions of my medical condition had caused me to do in desperation when I eventually chose to fess up to him one day on how I had coped. But I wasn't intending to breathe a word about Josh until Mark was fully restored to good health again and could handle the truth.

I was at the hospital early on Sunday, but having learned from Saturday's experience, I kept my stay down to only a few hours, returning home by 11am. With having had to cancel Friday's scheduled second session with young Josh, I found myself caught in another growing period of sexual drought. It had now been four days since having my sexual fantasies and cravings satisfied by the new pool guy's deep probing strokes, the most assured and proven method of relieving the medical condition that is now giving me more trouble than ever before.

As I drove home from the hospital, I was beginning to experience a return of those sexual fantasies that had been pushed into the background by Josh and his wild fucking last Wednesday. My greatest fear was that as the long days ground by, I would be drawn sexually back to that serious dark place where I craved, beyond reason, having a male organ filling me deeply. When good old reliable hubby Mark is around, I never need to venture down that dark path ... he reliably keeps me sane with a daily dose of his sexual therapy.

I swung the car onto my home driveway and was surprised to see a car already parked there in front of our garage. It was a vehicle that I was familiar with but I couldn't immediately recall who it belonged to. I got out of my car and hurried up the path, anxious about who may have called in. I didn't expect, or want, visitors today, I would prefer to be left alone with my dildos and vibrators. My front porch is obscured by trees from the driveway and the street and it is only when I got near to my front door that I saw a man sitting in the love seat on the porch.

It was Brad, the husband of my best friend Carla ... he would really be one of the last people I would expect to find here at my home late on a Sunday morning. "Brad, this is a surprise, what in the world are you doing here? Why isn't Carla with you?"

While Carla and I are best friends - have been for years - Brad and my Mark are not that close, it could be their age difference but I think really that Mark doesn't have much time for Brad ... they don't have many common interests. We would never have Brad and Carla here for a small dinner party but we do invite them if it's a large party where Mark and Brad don't have to mix much. So I only ever see Brad on average perhaps every couple of months. I mean, I would really only run into him if Carla and I caught up on a weekend or I was calling around to pick her up for a girls' night out.

"Hi Lisa," he greeted me brightly and with a warm smile, "Carla didn't come, she sent me over. I guess she or I should have called first. We didn't think you'd be out on a Sunday, what with Mark being in hospital and all."

He had risen out of the love seat on our front porch and stood beside my front door, looking like he expected me to invite him in. With a sigh, I fitted my key into the lock, opening the door and walking into my house, holding the screen door open for Brad to follow.

"I've just been visiting Mark there," I am sure he could hear the curious tone in my voice, "but what brings you here, have you been here long?"

"Whoa, one question at a time Lisa. Err ... no, not long, only about 15 minutes ... I was going to wait a half-hour and if you didn't come back, I would have gone home."

He followed me into the living room and I waved my hand toward the chairs to silently indicate he should take a seat while I dropped my keys and purse on the buffet and turned to face my unexpected visitor, wondering what his visit here was all about.

"But why are you here?"

"Carla sent me over ... she's been really worried about you since you had lunch the other day. She told me to come over to see if I can be of any help to you."

"Help? Help how?"

"Oh, hang on, it's all in this note. I better give you that first, before..." his voice sort of trailed off there before he could say what followed

before

. Had Carla sent him to handle any odd jobs? If so, he certainly wasn't dressed for it. Brad looked very smart in an open neck casual collared shirt and neatly pressed slacks. If he wasn't married to my bestie, I'd say he looked like he was going on a date.

He had sat on the sofa -- a 3-seater -- but not knowing him all that well, I chose to sit in an individual lounge chair opposite the sofa.

"A note from Carla, and hand-delivered, how mysterious!" I watched Brad forage in his shirt pocket and produce an envelope. He rose from the sofa and came over to hand it to me. I noticed his long thin fingers and clean nails and was momentarily transported into my wild sexual cravings, imagining those fingers rummaging within my pussy. Just as quickly as the thought appeared, I forced it away and in more serious vein, I looked at the envelope that bore my name on it ... it was definitely Carla's scrawly handwriting, I'd know it anywhere.

I tore open the envelope and withdrew a piece of paper, a one-page letter. I began to read:

My dearest Lisa,

You so shocked me on Tuesday over lunch when you disclosed the frightening diagnosis of your medical condition. I had no idea of how much distress you've been going through for years. I always expected that you were like me, a sexy wife and mother who loves nothing more than hot sex with her husband. But to think you have this overwhelming craving (I think that's the word you used to describe your constant sexual need). I really do feel for you having this condition, let alone undergoing such agony with Mark out of action for who knows how long.

I do wish you'd taken me into your confidence previously. I don't know how I could have helped, but since you have always been a rock for me, I surely could have been one too for you, someone to listen when you are going through the worst days. I think what really hit me most about the seriousness of your problem was when you said you could easily jump on that guy having lunch and do him on the café floor. I watched your eyes and you looked like you seriously meant it.

I looked up briefly from reading this longish letter. Brad was sitting on the sofa opposite, no actual emotion on his face but watching me so intently. I wondered if he knew the contents of Carla's letter to me, had they discussed my problem? If so, I felt somewhat embarrassed that this man I only knew vaguely was aware of what was going on in my body. Could he actually comprehend how much I wanted hot sex now -- this minute? Had Carla even told him about the man in the café story? Without a word between us, I lowered my eyes and read on:

I have lain awake these past few nights worrying about you. Having come up with a perhaps crazy plan to help you, I have wrestled with the rights and wrongs of it before reaching a decision to go ahead and make this offer. To me, the plusses outweigh the minuses, so here goes. Unconditionally, my beautiful friend, I want you to have my Brad -- for sex, now, today -- to help you get through the painful need to have your body filled.

You said how the accident coming on top of Mark already having been away for 10 days meant that you haven't had any sex for weeks. With your medical condition, you must be in a painful hell. So be my guest sweet Lisa, are you sitting next to Brad? Well, if not, go and jump in his lap, let him make you feel real good. This is my unconditional gift to you today!

My God Lisa, is your mouth open in shock? I bet it is! You would never have expected me to offer my Brad and I never would have expected to let my husband have sex with another woman and still remain in love with him. But I can see that your need goes way beyond my moral upbringing and our respective marriage vows. I want to see my best friend with a satisfied and happy smile on her face again. So my darling friend, don't reject us, we both want to help you now, today. No conditions, you two do whatever makes you feel good, however long it takes.

Lisa darling, no excuses, please accept my Brad in the loving spirit in which I have offered him to you. Enjoy the next few hours, but do send him home tonight.

Your longest and best friend,

Carla

xoxoxox

For now, I couldn't lift my eyes from the piece of paper I held, yet I knew Brad's eyes were watching me intently, waiting anxiously for my reaction. What would that be? Should I smile or laugh, should I look up at him and wink? As sexually in need as I felt at this moment, could I in all conscience accept Carla's offer and bang her husband? Could I instantly switch it on and become intimate with a man I didn't know all that well? And how did Brad feel about it personally? Did he want to have sex with me? Oh God, he's a man, isn't he? If they have their wife's approval, most men would want to have sex with any woman surely. Was he agreeing to do this only because I am Carla's best friend, or has he perhaps secretly lusted after me for years and now he has this opportunity to satisfy his adulterous desires?

How about Mark, how would he feel about this? I would have to look up at Brad soon but for now I stared at the letter, re-reading parts of it. I tried to rationalise the options. I had justified embarking on my sexual tryst with young Josh on the basis that Mark was totally aware of how desperate the hypersexuality made me so he would tolerate my having sex with a casual employee stranger to quench my urgent sexual needs. But Carla's Brad is a completely different matter. How would Mark feel about me having Brad, a man he vaguely knew but with whom he has no affinity, or for that matter, any liking for? Even if Mark condoned me going with Josh, I doubted he would approve of me having sex with Brad. Mark could see that as a betrayal?

How long had I had my head down reading, and then thinking? It could have been 3 or 4 minutes. Brad sat patiently watching me but not saying a word. Finally, I raised my eyes from the letter and stared directly across at him, seated no more than 8 feet away. "Well, I don't know what to say, Carla is full of surprises."

Brad nodded his head in agreement, "Yes, she is, isn't she? So Lisa, what do you think?" He wasn't wasting any time in posing the question, like a salesman attempting to close the sale.

I took a long pause before answering, "I really don't know, I am quite confused. I guess I never saw this coming, never expected that Carla, and you for that matter, would want to help me out in this way."

"Lisa, Carla and I have discussed this at great length, over several nights actually. We haven't rushed into it at all. We think we've covered every likely contingency, like how it could impact on your friendship with Carla, on whether you should tell Mark or not. I am not worried about how it might impact on my relationship with Mark, because there is none really ... for whatever reason."

I wondered if I should tell him that Mark just didn't have much time for him. No, better that be left untouched.

"We both have to be honest with each other Lisa, maybe the prospect of having sex with me turn you right off, I won't be offended if you want to knock me back."

What could I say? I could hardly tell him he did nothing for me. Besides, he was quite a nice looking guy and Carla always raved about how good he was in bed. I am sure he could satisfy me if I can just get my head past the prospect of upsetting Mark if he ever gets to find out. "Was this Carla's idea or yours?" I thought it seemed like a reasonable question.

"Oh, definitely Carla's. You know her better than most Lisa, she's a headstrong woman. Once she gets an idea in her head, she analyses and reanalyses until she's looked at it from every angle. She's pretty determined about this ... I dare say she's gonna be real pissed at you if you turn us down. If it makes you feel any better, I doubt that I could have swayed her if I'd wanted to, but frankly, I admit that I never wanted to dissuade her. I've always liked you and I see you as an extremely attractive, actually beautiful woman, very desirable. If we weren't each married to Carla and Mark, you're the sort of woman that I could be with."

He was saying all of the right things, making me feel a little more comfortable. That was important to me.

So why was I hesitating? Driving home from the hospital in the car some twenty minutes ago, I wouldn't have thought twice if some male had exposed his rampant cock and invited me to sample it. Such is my current desire for strong sex again, reignited from a four-day drought after Josh quenched it on Wednesday. My need was urgent again, how easy could this be now? Carla had presented Brad and his masculinity on a plate ... I only had to reach out and take it.

"So, if I was to accept," I suggested coyly, "how would we go about this Brad? Have you given any thought to what happens next? Is it like we forget we have spouses and pretend we're on a date?"

"Carla and I discussed several scenarios on how to get into it without feeling awkward."

"And what did you two great sexual minds come up with?"

"Well Lisa, if you're a bit nervous about how to get started, we could take our time, sit and talk and drink some wine until we feel ready. On the other hand, if you'd prefer to not waste any time, we can get straight into it, get naked and see what happens. Oh, Carla did say that you might feel uneasy about doing it in the bed you share with Mark, so she suggested we might stay out here on the sofa."

"Hmm, you two really have gone into it, haven't you?"

I still harboured some misgivings about having sex with a man I knew as distinct from the disengage I could feel when having Josh, a stranger. Josh could become a distant memory once Mark came home, but Brad was always going to be around. It could be awkward seeing Brad and Carla while in Mark's company once my husband and I were again sexually content.

Nevertheless, my sexual fantasies, and therefore cravings, were again at a high level and I am in need of urgent relief. Carla is making it so easy for me ... Brad is sitting here now in my living room, and I am constantly wet down there so what's stopping me?

"So Brad, what if we try the first option? I'll come and join you on the sofa and we can have a glass of wine or two, see what happens?"

"Sure, sounds good to me."

I stood up and walked over to the bar. I took a bottle of white wine from the fridge, uncorked it and poured us a couple of glasses. I carried them over to the sofa and handed one to Brad, watching him closely as he sat there, an expectant look on his face. I looked him up and down, wondering if he is already erect. Was the prospect of having approved sex with his wife's best and long-time friend too exciting? Has he come to me already aroused and primed? I couldn't see any detectable bulge as I sat down close alongside him, our thighs touching.

"So here we are Brad, should we raise a toast?

"Why not, here's to us and great sex Lisa."

"Ha ha, ok," I raised my glass and clinked his, "to great sex." He sipped and I took a huge gulp nervously. I was much calmer when I seduced Josh.

"What should we do to break the ice Brad? Do you feel awkward at all?"

"I don't know if awkward is quite the word, but yes, it definitely feels different to when Carla and I are about to get into it."

"Well, a good start might be if we can eliminate awkward, so how about you pretend that I'm Carla here with you and do what you would do with her? What would be your first move?"

"I would kiss her."

"Ok, then kiss me," I invited and half turned my face toward him. He reached over and took the wine glass from my hand and leaned forward to place his and my glasses on the coffee table in front of us. Then I saw his face close in on mine, beginning a kiss that started chaste, lips upon lips softly, brushing mine in such a nice sexy way. But after some 20 seconds, I felt his lips applying pressure, forcing mine to open and I then his tongue sliding along my bottom lip. I liked it!

Gradually but without any undue urgency, our kiss became more intense, more passionate, our tongues intertwining, first inside his mouth, then chasing into mine. I felt his hand alight on my blouse, on my breast, lightly caressing that one boob. Still curious as to whether Brad was starting in an already aroused state, I brought a hand tentatively to his lap, feeling around and finding a bulge. Yes, he was what could surely be called half hard.