Freak Of The Week
Call me a dick fiend if you must. I love everything about the dick, and I must have it at all times. From the way it curves to the left, hitting my G-spot while digging deep inside my pussy; how the veins bulge out of the sides when I’m jacking it off before taking it into my mouth; the way it hits my tonsils when I’m deep-throating it, showing off my non-existent gag reflex; the way it explodes in my mouth, shooting out that thick warm come straight to the back of my throat; the solid slap it gives me when whipped across my face; to the way I go into orgasmic euphoria right before I’m about to come when it’s deep inside of me. It became so bad that every time I came within close proximity of a man, I would twitch like a crackhead ready to fuck for a fix. I was addicted. I needed rehab. I gave myself an intervention and scheduled an appointment to see a sex therapist.
On my very first visit to see the therapist, I didn’t know what to expect. Here I was trying to convince myself that I was not a sex addict, but me four-fingering myself in the car on my way over to the sex therapist’s office convinced me otherwise. So, I knew I had to seek some sort of help for my psychological and physical sexual issues. The office was a typical doctor’s office. I walked straight up to the receptionist desk to check in.
“Hello, I’m here to see Dr. Gillespie. My name is Maja Carson.”
“Okay, Ms. Carson. I’ll let Dr. Gillespie know that you’re here. Please take a seat and he will be with you shortly,” she said. “Thank you.”
I took a seat, and immediately my deviously sexual mind began to wander. I started looking around and thinking about how I could masturbate with the chair legs and fancy foreign sculptures that were on the tables. Snapping out of my sexually obsessive thoughts, I heard Dr. Gillespie calling my name.
“Yes, that’s me,” I replied.
He walked over to me, and I stood up to greet him. Shaking my hand, he said, “Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Gillespie. Follow me to my office.”
“Of course,” I said.
Giving him a quick look-over, I observed that he was not my type at all. He had a receding hairline, which he’d tried to make less noticeable with some black Bigen hair dye. Although he was dressed nicely, in black slacks with a baby blue button-up shirt and tie, he was slightly out of shape. He had a beer belly, but the rest of his body looked decent, like if he worked out a few days a week, he would be much more appealing to the eye.
I always found the good in people’s appearances, which meant that anybody was fuckable to me as long as they had a dick and a tongue. The only thing that was remotely attractive about him was his lips—he had nice, thick lips. I could wrap my thick thighs around his head and give him some of this octopussy… There I go again, having my crazy sexual thoughts, and I haven’t even gotten into his office yet. Upon walking into the room, I thought it seemed very comfortable and cozy. There was the standard couch and chair that you would see in any therapist’s office. The walls were white, but the room was decorated in multi-colored browns and tans with a splash of blue, which I knew was a symbol of peace, calmness, and serenity.
“Take a seat, Ms. Carson,” he said. “Tell me about yourself. What brings you here today?”
I spent about five minutes telling him about who I was as a person before I got into telling him about my sexual escapades. He wanted me to explain some of my sexual soirées in detail so that he could get a better understanding as to how to help me cope with my addiction; as if I were addicted to some sort of opioid or something. I tried explaining to him that dick for me was more than sexual, it was medicinal. Dick was my opioid.
“Okay, Ms. Cason, let’s start off by you telling me about your week.”
I took a deep breath and said,
“This is going to be a long session, doc.”
I kicked my shoes off, then lay back on the sofa, propping my feet up. I raised my arms and crossed them behind my head, closing my eyes; then I went deep into my sexual thoughts, as if I were under hypnosis.
“It all started when I was married to my ex-husband, Sebastian. We had been married for a solid ten years before things started to go awry. On our ten-year anniversary, we decided to give each other a hall pass to use for one night only. It could be used any time we wanted, just as long as the other was aware. Well, let’s just say that the hall pass was the start of me becoming reckless with my promiscuous shenanigans.
“I blamed Sebastian for everything. At first, it was all fun and games, but when he went even further with it, inviting strangers into our home for orgies, threesomes, and all other kinds of kinky fuckery, he saw that I was really into it—more than I was into him. He became jealous at my newfound sexual free spirit. After a while, things became way too complicated for him, so we both agreed to cease our swingerish ways to save our marriage. The transition wasn’t that easy for me, as I had become addicted to the lifestyle, so I continued on with my freakish activities. Sebastian knew of my behavior but would never say anything about it to me. It was his fault that I had become addicted to sex. I used to be a sweet, innocent housewife until he opened that torturous territory and turned me out. I grew bored pretty quickly, so I needed to have a variety of dick. I began to see a different guy every day of the week. I kept a little black dick-book handy, where I wrote down the names of who I was fucking so I could keep track of them.”
I went on to explain to Dr. Gillespie, in great detail, the ways my sex addiction played out in my daily life. He listened patiently without interruption and took notes here and there as I described my typical weekly schedule. On Sundays I liked to give my pussy a little rest. I would go to the spa and get my pussy rejuvenated, my asshole bleached, and a full body wax—all followed by a massage with a happy ending.
And this past Monday, I’d woken up in one of the worst moods I’ve had in a long time. I went to the gym thinking I was going to release some anger, maybe find a fine-ass man to spot me on the Smith machine so he could stand in front of me as I did squats, and I could suck his dick in between reps. Just the thought of that made me chuckle.
When I arrived at the gym, Dustin was there teaching his boot camp class that I had previously signed up for quite a few times and enjoyed. Initially, I was going to just jump on the elliptical then head back home, but with the way I was feeling, I thought I’d join in on the class to watch his sexy ass dripping in sweat. He would wear these fitted Under Armour workout pants that left absolutely nothing to the imagination but his dick and balls print. The visual made me want to do pull-ups on his dick.
That thirty-minute class was just want I needed to check my attitude. I was drenched in sweat but felt refreshed, like I was ready to start my day. As the class cleared out, Dustin approached me and said, “Hey, sexy lady, you’re looking good today.” He playfully snapped his towel at my six-pack.
“Thank you, Drill Sergeant,” I said. We both laughed. I would always call him that because that’s how he acted while teaching his class. Dustin and I would always flirt with each other. Although our flirtationship never left the gym, he would be stupid not to know that I wanted to fuck him.
“So, are you coming to my class again tomorrow?” he asked.
“Only if you want me to.”
“Of course I do.”
“Then I will see you tomorrow at seven a.m. sharp.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
He began rubbing his beard and licking his lips, trying to act all Rico Suave. We said our goodbyes, then I made my way to the women’s locker room to take a shower and wash the salty sweat from my body.
As I was washing up, I felt a cool breeze blow through the shower curtain, so I turned around to see if it was open. There was Dustin, standing behind me, butt-ass naked with some body wash in one hand and a pink fluffy loofah in the other. He wore a devilish grin on his face.
He’d startled me for a moment, but then I smiled. He looked as if he was ready to wash and suck this pussy clean. I stepped back into the water flow, letting it stream down on my natural curly locks as I invited him in to join me. He stepped inside. The water splashed on his caramel-colored chest, making me want to eat him up immediately. I slid my tongue over his nipple, drinking the warm water from it. I took the soap and loofah from his hands and squeezed the soap onto the loofah, making sure to lather it up really good. Then I slipped it between his legs, going straight for his dick and balls. I needed to make sure he was clean before I let him fuck me. No need for all that extra foreplay shit. Besides, we were in a gym bathroom—how freaky could we really get? Needless to say, he took me to dick boot camp and beat my pussy till it was unrecognizable.
On Tuesday, I let Kane come over to my place to eat and devour every inch of my fat pussy. I call it Fat Tuesdays. He would bring over a box of Fruit Roll-Ups and place one between my thick thighs like a dental dam, then he would eat and suck it off my pussy until he found my clit, feasting on my sticky, gushy center. When it was my turn, I would wrap a Fruit Roll-Up around the shaft of his dick, making sure the head was covered as well. Then I would suck the hell out of it until it disappeared. We would carry on like that until the entire box of Fruit Roll-Ups was gone. Now Wednesdays with Shareef was always crazy. I never knew what was going to go down with him. He liked to do all sorts of dangerous shit while fucking me. One night, we laid a plastic painter’s sheet out on my living room floor in front of the fireplace and poured some baby oil all over it. Then we lit some candles around the perimeter. We got naked and had a full-blown oil wrestling match, WWE style. We were slipping and sliding all over the place as the heat from the candles set or sexual desire for each other on fire. After we finished wrestling, Shareef turned me over on my stomach and poured hot sex wax down my back, from the nape of my neck to the crack of my ass. He then shoved the dick-shaped candle up my ass, slowly turning it in a counterclockwise motion while trailing his tongue up my spine. He removed the candle, then climbed on top of me and slid his dick deep inside my asshole, letting it take over. The penetration was nothing in comparison to the candle. It felt like the candle was still inside my ass burning. All I could do was scream out in pure ecstasy. My asshole is burning right now just thinking about it. Thursday with Tanner was unexpected. I met him as I was speeding through rush-hour traffic, trying to get to work. He was a highway patrol officer who was parked, just looking to meet his quota for the day. That fucker pulled me over for speeding. As soon as I saw his lights flashing, I wanted to give chase just for the thrill of it, but I decided not to put up a fight. He got out of his patrol car and walked up to my window.
“Good evening, ma’am. Do you know how fast you were going?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” I responded with an attitude.
“You were going approximately eighty-three miles per hour in a sixty-five zone. Are you in a hurry to get where you’re going or something, ma’am?” “Hell yeah, as a matter of fact I am. And you are making me even later, Officer!”
I was giving him attitude out of this world. He must have thought that me having an attitude was cute, because he put his head down, shaking it, then chuckled. His deep dimples made me want to bury the tip of my tongue inside of them and suck on his cheeks. He was tall, dark, and fine as fuck—just my cup of tea.
“Please step out of the vehicle, ma’am,” he demanded.
I was wondering why he was asking me to get out of my car for just a traffic stop. I was sure my aggressive attitude toward him had something to do with it, so I complied. He asked me to turn around and place my hands on the hood of the car, then he frisked me. Feeling his hands run up and down my body and in between my legs had my sexual adrenaline rushing. After he finished, he walked me to his patrol car and told me to get in the back seat. I was sure that this was not the proper protocol, so I began to fuck with his head. I sat down in the back seat and unbuttoned my shirt, exposing my bare breasts. Luckily, I didn’t wear a bra that day, and I knew I was about to get out of getting a ticket. He looked down at me as if I were crazy and said, “Ma’am, do you know that what you’re doing is considered bribery?”
“Yes officer,” I said, “but would you consider me sucking your dick in the back of your squad car sexual harassment?” The look on his face told me that he couldn’t believe I’d said it, but that he was happy I did. He slid in the back seat next to me, running his strong hand up my inner thigh. We both remained silent as I unbuckled his pants, leaving his holster intact. He began to playfully read me my rights as he kissed me, and that turned me on even more. I sucked his dick, hopped on it backwards, and fucked my way out of that ticket. After we were finished, he gave me his number and let me go scot-free. Of course, I didn’t learn my lesson. I sped off, proceeding to do eighty-three with him riding behind me, flashing his sirens and making sure I made it to work safely. I had to fit him into my schedule, and I considered it to be community service.
Friday, I made a pit stop to my OBGYN’s office on my lunch break. I walked straight into his office without saying a word. He knew what I was there for and was ready to make his deposit. There he stood in front of his desk with his pants down over his ankles. I tossed my purse on the chair by the door and walked over to him, dropping to my knees. He leaned back on the desk and grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulled me into his erect dick, then started throat-fucking my mouth. Excitement set in as I heard his moans get louder, and his thrusts grew shorter and faster. With both hands he grabbed the back of my head and shoved it down hard on his dick, holding it in place while he grinded his pelvis in circles, stirring his dick around inside my mouth. I was gagging and choking—damn near threw up all over his dick as spit dripped down my chin. Every time the head of his dick connected with my tonsils, tears rolled down the corners of my eyes as he continued to violently fuck my mouth. I reached my arms around him and grabbed his ass cheeks.
“Come in my mouth, baby,” I managed to choke out, coughing with a mouthful of dick. The tip of my tongue slightly scraped the top of his balls as I deep-throated him like my life depended on it.
“Mmmm,” I moaned. My pussy began to pulsate at my own slurping noises. I could feel my precum trickle down my inner thigh. I reached down with my hand to catch it, then lifted my fingers to his mouth for him to suck it off.
“Awww fuck!” he shouted.
One last thrust to the back of my throat was all he needed. Suddenly, I felt his warm, slimy come gush inside my mouth as I swallowed just a taste of it. The rest, I gurgled around in my mouth and spit back out on the tip of his dick, letting it roll down his shaft before sucking it back into my mouth. I reached over to his desk to retrieve the urine sample cup he had waiting for me and spit his come inside of it. This was something that I often did when I visited him. It went back to our very first sexual encounter, when he came on my face and it cleared up a month’s worth of acne overnight. Ever since then, I made sure to spit instead of swallow his come; it helped me to stay looking young. He thought I was a nutcase but enjoyed seeing me do it. On my way out, I grabbed my cup of sperm, stuck it in my purse, and was on my way to the spa to get a facial.
I opened my eyes and looked over at the therapist. His mouth was on the floor. I slowly sat up on the couch, feeling refreshed, as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Aside from gossiping with my girlfriends, I had never gone into full detail with anyone about my sexual addiction; even with my girlfriends, I never told the full story of how big of a whore I really was.
“And there you have it, doc. That’s typically how a day in my life looks for the most part, and the reason why I’m sitting here in front of you today. My name is Maja, and I am a sex addict.”
I could tell he was trying to keep a straight face but, on the inside, he was just floored. He just barely kept it together, but his flushed face gave him away.
“Ahem!” Clearing his throat, he loosened his tie, then took a sip of water. “So, what about Saturdays, Ms. Carson? What do you normally do on a typical Saturday?”
Without responding to his question, I stood up, pulled my skirt above my waist, and then pulled my panties down to my ankles, removing one foot and kicking the other one up to my hand, snatching them off. I gathered my panties into my hands and balled them up, then walked over to him and straddled his lap. I removed his bifocals, placing them on the table next to him, then shoved my panties in his mouth, pushing his head back into the chair. To my surprise, he aggressively wrapped both of his hands around my waist, picked me up, and turned me around, slamming my ass down on his lap. With one hand still wrapped around my waist, he quickly unbuttoned his pants and proceeded to pull his dick out.
He placed both of his hands in the middle of my back, pushed me down on top of the coffee table in front of me, then rammed his dick inside of my pussy from the back, pounding it in and out of me like a jackhammer. Bracing myself on the edge of the table, I planted my feet on the ground and started bouncing and slamming my voluptuous apple-shaped ass up and down on his readily big, hard dick. I was throwing my ass around in rapid circles, as if I were giving him a lap dance and trying to break his dick off. I felt the curve of his dick continuously brush up against my G-spot, and it was driving me insane. Suddenly, I felt him slip his thumb in and out of my asshole, causing a euphoric signal that connected with my G-spot. In performing that lethal move, it took all of five minutes for me to reach my orgasmic peak and come all over his dick. As my come gushed out on his lap, he continued to thumb my ass and I kept bouncing.
“Ahhh, fuck!” I yelled.
“Oh Maja, come all over this dick,” he said.
Hearing his nerdy ass talk dirty to me pushed me over the edge. I leaned back into his chest, resting my head on his shoulder and erotically grinding down into his lap as he kissed my neck. He massaged my breasts before sliding his hand down the middle of my chest to my lap, then slipped his wet fingers deep inside my pussy. As he thrust his dick deeper inside of me while fingering my pussy, the eruption of my second orgasm rained down on his dick once again. Feeling my juices drip down the shaft of his dick must have sparked a demon inside of him. He aggressively wrapped both of his hands around my neck and pumped his dick up inside of me full speed ahead.
“Grrrr!” he growled. “Grrrrrrrr!” His growling became even louder as he pumped faster and faster, almost choking me out. I saw a white light flash before my eyes, and my vision became slightly blurred. The feeling was so erotic. I felt his come shoot all up inside my guts, filling up my entire pussy pocket. His creamy come mixed with my pussy juice created a sloppy mess in his lap. My body fell into him as he sank into the chair, unable to move.
My therapy sessions with Dr. Gillespie continued for weeks. I told him each and every freaky detail of my sex life, leaving nothing to the imagination. I felt embarrassed at times, but he never judged me; he made me feel comfortable confiding in him. He even confessed to me that before seeing me, he’d been a forty-year-old virgin. He started crying as he revealed that little secret. The way he was fucking me, I would have never figured that out in a million years. I added him to my Saturday roster. Obviously, he was the one who needed therapy. I should really get my master’s degree…