Free Candid Confessions of a Shameless Sexaholic...Part One: Just What The Doctor Ordered by Erotika Sinn

happened at the
office on Monday. For one thing, I realized I didn’t have way of contacting
Brad except on his office phone number. So I didn’t have much choice but to
wait. It wasn’t much of a plan…but a plan, nevertheless.
     
    ***
     
    What happened in the office on Monday
was, well, quite a lot.
                I got in early for once,
aiming to get in before Vanessa. However, she was already there, and looked
like she had been there for hours. I knew that she also put in an hour in the
gym before getting to work, so God knows what time she got up in the morning –
must be about 3.00am…that is, about the time when I am usually getting off to
sleep. I was dosed up on Starbucks, and ready to rip into a busy week.
                Vanessa called me into her
office, and congratulated me on the first draft of my article on Karen. ‘This
is good stuff. She is quite a character, isn’t she? She must have slept with
more men than you, me and the rest of the women in this office put together.’
                Ummm…probably not,
actually…but I decided not to pursue that line of inquiry. ‘Any news on
Thomasin?’ I asked, changing the subject. Thomasin was the other person I was
supposed to interview on sex addiction.
                ‘Yes, he will meet you for
lunch today at one. Oh, and Brad called…he wants you to go over to his office
at four. But he said it’s OK if you don’t want to…any idea what means?’
                I shook my head. ‘No idea,
but four is fine with me.’ But while I was talking, my brain was ticking over
like crazy. Was this business or pleasure, or both? It was office hours, so I
guessed business…but it could be awkward.
               
    ***
               
    As it turned out, lunch with Thomasin
was more awkward. I mean, he was a nice enough guy…but it was clear that he was
far from over his sex addiction issues. That is to say, he started hitting on
me as soon as I arrived in the restaurant, and didn’t let up. Ordinarily, of
course, this would be like a match made in heaven. I mean, he was an ex male
model, for heaven’s sake, and still in very good shape. On practically any
other day, we would have skipped the meal and booked a room somewhere and got
down to business.
                But for the first time ever
in my adult life, dick wasn’t the first thing on my mind. You can laugh if you
want, but I was really torn. One part of me wanted to get inside Thomasin’s
pants and check out the equipment, but another part of me wanted to be a good
girl, anticipating something more (I didn’t know what exactly…but something)
from my meeting with Brad in the afternoon. Somehow, I thought a lunchtime fuck
might spoil the romance later, if you get my drift.  Yes, I know all this is
fucked up, but this is what was going through my head.
                To be honest, Thomasin
didn’t have much of a story to tell. He was just a horny guy, and because he
has natural good looks, he didn’t have much trouble getting girls between the
sheets. At least, I assumed it was his looks that were the attraction. He
didn’t seem to have much going on between his ears. I spent an hour listening
to him brag about his various conquests, and it all seemed rather sad and
pointless. Just a string of sexual encounters and one-night stands, with no
mention of love or romance. With a shock, I realized that this was my life,
too. Just an empty series of meaningless encounters with people who would
probably never see me again, or who probably wouldn’t recognize me if they did.
                Was this really what I
wanted for the rest of my life? When I was eighty years old, and looking back
on my life – like that old lady in the Titanic movie – what would I see?
Memories of happy family life, love and shared happiness? Or just vague
memories of all the dicks I had worked my way through. It certainly gave