Excerpt #2

Sometime during the present.    
     
1:19pm    
     
I’d like to see Derrick soon. A girl has needs. I’ve come to terms with my extremely high sex drive. It’s taken me quite a while. I’ve been told by professionals and others that I’m hypersexual, that I have a sex addiction, so many things. Even Xavier asked me why I was a nympho shortly after we started having sex. At one point I believed all of it. I was convinced I was a sex addict and I couldn’t be told otherwise. I’ve had to sift through the BS myself and then discuss it with Suzette and Dr. Peters on numerous occasions. I know this much for sure: at times, I have an insatiable sexual appetite. I’m not going to buy into the reason is because I was abused or because its trauma based. My high sex drive used to be a problem because I didn’t know how to handle it, I didn’t know how to handle my emotions, I didn’t have confidence, I didn’t have boundaries, I didn’t know how to recognize and respect the boundaries of others, and I didn’t know how to articulate my wants and needs. I do now.    
     
Journal Excerpt:    
          
March 16, 2021    
     
This afternoon Xavier and I were talking on the phone:      
   
“Why are you a nympho?”    
    
“I’m not a nympho.”    
     
“Mary, do you know what a nympho is?”    
    
“Of course I do. It’s someone who is hypersexual, preoccupied with sex to the point it disrupts their daily life, who is addicted to sex, blah, blah, blah.”    
     
“Exactly, you’re a nympho.”    
     
“I’m not a nympho. I like good sex. You’re good sex.”    
     
I had to shut down the conversation as quickly as possible. I don’t want him to know that side of me; to know I’ve discussed this in therapy before. I don’t want him to have the wrong impression of me and to be honest, he probably wouldn’t believe that it’s been a real problem in the past. Most people don’t know this about me. What I lack in knowledge and sexual experiences and for being abused and never wanting sex with Robert, it doesn’t take away from the fact that I have an insatiable appetite when it comes to sex and I can be consumed by it.    
     
At the end of the conversation I sat there in stunned silence as he said, “Mary, I have too much respect for you to fuck somebody else while I’m fucking you.” I know it’s his way to show respect, but the words were shocking.    
   
I have to stop letting my emotions throw me into a tailspin. I know it’s a problem. I think it has more to do with me rather than my illness. I just get so worked up. It’s causing problems with Xavier just like it has with everyone else in my life. I’ve been in therapy for more years than I can count. I know what to do, but things never seem to get resolved. I      
feel like I don’t know how to talk correctly when I’m trying to get my point across. I’m      
aware that it takes practice, but I don’t get much. Things have deteriorated so much with my relationships and I take responsibility for that, but I need help and I don’t know how to get it from the people I’ve alienated. I want to be better. I want to live a more productive life. I don’t want to be stuck up here forever, in this small apartment in the back, wishing I was out in the world but too afraid to take the necessary steps. It’s up to me and I’ve got to do something about that.    
   
I wonder if this is the reason Xavier hasn’t said one more word about helping me my memory. It seems like since we started having sex, he treats me differently and I don’t      
understand why. It feels like I’ve been lumped into some category where I’m similar to the enemy, women who have treated him badly. I know how that sounds, but I can’t place my finger on why he’s treating me this way. He knows I’m different than other women in many ways. I don’t want any of his money, all I want is his time, but it’s a commodity he’s not willing to give me most of the time.    
 
________     
 
I saved my old journals for exactly this reason, to see how far I've come and to show myself why I need to expunge him from my life. Had we both been paying attention we would have realized what was happening. That no longer matters to me though. What matters to me is that my mind is uncluttered and I'm free to express myself.      
     
Derrick and I have a robust relationship. He indulges my fantasies and now that we’ve cleared everything up I feel completely comfortable with him. I still have to work on my communication skills with him, I’m sure the age difference is a part of that, but he’s worth the effort. A couple weeks ago he came over to talk and we ended up having sex. It was freaking fantastic. Since then he’s been attentive, something new for him. I’ve also been making more of an effort. I’ve realized I haven’t been fair to him.    
     
He sent this text a few days ago:    
     
“I miss you! I wish I could have visited you today. I was craving you.” That’s the first time he’s said he misses me.    
     
“Oh, it’s crazy here. I want you too, sexy man.”    
     
He asked me why it was crazy and I explained what was happening with the renovations. When he came over I was in another apartment.    
     
“I’m sorry I’m over here dozing off. I still have things to do. It’s been a long day.”    
     
“No worries. You’ve had a long day. Take care of you.”    
     
“Thank you for understanding. I was worried you’d be mad and was going to try and get rid of me if couldn’t come over today or tomorrow like I said I would.” That made me kinda  sad. I recognized the vulnerability but also how that had been my patten with him and with others, including Xavier.    
     
“We talked. I will make more of an effort to bend and be more understanding. You have a very busy life. I enjoy my time with you. I don’t want to jeopardize that. I realize what it took for you to open up to me and I appreciate that. I will work harder to be more understanding. Derrick, you’re a good guy. If I was twenty-five years younger you’d be in serious trouble, lol. I’m happy to spend time with you when you are available. I will do my part to make sure this works for however long this lasts. Get some sleep.”    
     
I haven’t seen him since then but we’ve had some steamy sexting. I also send him erotic poems all the time. I sent this the next day:    
     
Master of My Depravity    
     
In my she-wickedness I am exalted    
You own what little bit of sanctity I have left    
Stretched to the brink    
I crave you    
Like the sand craves the sun    
Burning    
     
Derrick and I have practiced some BDSM, not a lot. I adore BDSM. Technically, I’m a switch. I can be dominant and submissive depending on who I’m with. Mostly I’m dominant but I prefer to be submissive. However, it takes a lot of trust for me to be submissive so it doesn’t happen often. My deepest desire is to be totally submissive but I can’t give up that much control yet. It’s a goal. I had one Dom who wanted to collar me until he realized he couldn’t control me. He was my first experience with a Dom, with BDSM. It didn’t last long but it was exciting and I loved it. My first flogging was such an erotic experience. Xavier was shocked. He knew all about it, encouraged it actually. I digress. Back to Derrick…    
     
He's sexy AF (I’m working on my language). When he showed up at my door, just a couple hours before I was supposed to get on a plane and go visit Pam, it was exciting and dangerous. Vase and I were dating then and he would be coming to pick me up soon. I was out of control at that time. I opened my door to this young, magnificent, sexy looking man who walked into my apartment without saying a word, took me in his arms, kissed me passionately and then walked me backwards, all the way to my bedroom, kissing me the entire time. That was a little over a year and a half ago. Since then we’ve had our share of ups and downs but my God, the sex is phenomenal. He’s the reason that other than Xavier, I’ve gone younger when it comes to lovers. I need partners with stamina. Natalya told me once that sex is my foreplay. That after my partners have orgasmed and they are too spent to continue playing and I’m still raring to go, I shouldn’t stop. I shouldn’t let the playtime end. She said I should insist that they assist me in “getting mine,” even if I’ve already had multiple orgasms. For a few years that was a problem, having an orgasm (complicated but not so complicated story, of course), not so much anymore. I’ve only tapped out once. Since then I’ve been wanting to tap out again. I’ve been searching for the perfect session where I’m too spent to move afterwards. It hasn’t happened yet. The only time that it did happen, tapping out from pleasure, was a thirty-six-hour weekend with a couple I met on a swinger’s website. Figures it took that long and two people. So I’m not holding my breath that it will happen again. I keep getting off track…    
     
My time with Derick is short and sporadic. He’s a busy guy. When we get together it’s spontaneous. That’s totally not like me. I’m a planner. Ask anyone. But God damn it’s so good even if it’s not that long. I like sessions to be hours long. I mean hours and hours. We cram a whole bunch of stuff into the short amount of time he has. We’ve done some fantastic role playing. It was awkward at first, I had never done that before. He asked me to tell him everything I’ve ever wanted to do but haven’t. He also wanted to know what my fantasies were. That was one of them. I had nothing to lose so I told him. “Okay.” I looked at him as he was lying naked on my bed, his sexy tattooed caramel muscles begging to be kissed and licked, as he looked at me with his lazy smile and eyes while he played with one of his dreads. “What do you mean, okay?” “I got you. Whatever you want, beautiful.” When a man calls me beautiful, or boo, or sexy, or any pet name, I melt instantly. “You have a beautiful smile, sexy.” That was it. I crawled back onto the bed and made his day.

I have a particular talent when it comes to pleasuring men. I’ve had many men tell me they haven’t had anyone pleasure them like that in their entire life. I’ll be honest, I already know. And I know how that sounds but it’s the truth. When Xavier came back into my life I was a mess. My head was a mess, I didn’t have any confidence, I was clumsy, I was awkward, I was a train wreck. But I still loved him and I thought (and still do think) that he was a beautiful man. Every single part of him is beautiful, including his manhood. I made it my mission to learn him and learn how to please him. I excelled at pleasing him. When I began having multiple partners and learning other bodies and what pleases other people, I made it my mission to do the same with everyone I encountered. So, yeah, it’s my thing and I love doing it. I get off on it. I can orgasm from doing it, sometimes. The longest session was almost three hours. My neck was practically broken, I thought my jaw was going to lock, but it was worth it. I enjoy providing pleasure. I don’t want to hear that it has to do with people pleasing or my past. It has nothing to do with any of that that. It has everything to do with knowing what kind of power I have and that if I want to, I can bring down a six-foot-tall mountain of a man in mere minutes (I’m only five feet tall). I’ve done it several times. I prefer that it last longer than that, much longer, but if I’m challenged, it’s over.