Candid Confessions of a Shameless Sexaholic...Part One: Just What The Doctor Ordered (8 page)

Then Ellen
shocked me again. She climbed off Tony and took Chas by the hand, pulling him
over to the free end of the sofa. ‘Time to swap,’ she said. ‘Let’s see what
else you’ve brought home.’ With that, she pulled a surprised but happy Chas on
top of her, taking his dick and forcing it between her legs ready for a good
old-fashioned missionary fuck. Chas barely skipped a beat – it makes you wonder
what goes on in rugby dressing rooms. He slid right into Ellen’s pussy, and was
soon hammering away inside like a man on a mission. For a moment, this took my
breath away, but I didn’t have long to think about it. Tony had ideas, too…he
might have lost one pussy, but he didn’t have too far to look to find another
one. He grabbed my ass and pulled me over to where he sat. I straddled him as
Ellen had a few moments before, and he buried his face in my breasts, sucking
first one nipple and then the other. It felt good, but I felt I was missing
out…Ellen was getting a good shafting, and I wanted one, too. So I pushed
myself forward, up and onto Tony’s eager and throbbing dick. He slid into me
like a missile taking off from the launching pad, and it sure made me feel like
I was going into orbit. Tony thrust energetically inside me, his cock pulsing
against my wet and sensitive pussy walls and sending me to the limits of human
pleasure and back. Ellen was clearly enjoying what she was getting, too. Her
moans grew from a gentle whimper to a wail of pleasure, as Chas took her over
the edge into a shuddering orgasm. Then it was all change for doggie style,
with Ellen and I both draped over the back of the sofa, with our asses in the
air, our legs parted and our pussies ready for more action. Tony fucked me
energetically, while Chas pumped into Ellen. I got the impression that Ellen
like it doggy style just as much as me. We held hands as we shared more
earth-shattering orgasms from our pommy studs. Then the guys switched girls,
and we started all over again. Awesome!

The action
continued for another hour, and by the end of it, Ellen and I were both
literally shagged out. It was time for the big finish, and the guys knew how
they wanted to end it. Ellen and I sat on the floor next to the sofa, boobs at
the ready, with our two guys standing over us, working up for the final moment.
Chas came first, shooting a load of man juice over my breasts and then Ellen’s.
The cum dripped down my boobs on to my stomach and thighs. Then Tony came, too,
giving us both a thorough drenching in hot and sticky semen. I put my arm
around Ellen and she turned to kiss me. Our boobs touched, the cum dripping
down our stained and sweaty bodies. On the TV screen, the sexy secretary took
two loads of cum in her mouth, licking up every last drop and swallowing it.
Oh, boy, we were three very naughty ladies.

Wow! That was
the most fun I’d ever had watching TV.

When I awoke in
the morning, the boys had gone, and I was curled up in my bed with Ellen. I
could only vaguely remember how that had happened. We had enjoyed one hell of a
night. Sod Brad and his prim and proper ways. He was gone for ever, but that
was OK…there were plenty of other dicks in the sea, as we had discovered last
night. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to wake up. I glanced at the clock
and saw that it was 8.00am. Something had disturbed my Sunday morning sleep,
but I wasn’t sure what it was. Then I heard it again…it was the doorbell.

I pulled on a
dressing gown and shuffled to the front door. Peering through the window, I
could see a delivery guy with a long, thin box. I opened up and peered at him
blearily.

‘Angel dVries?’
he asked.

I nodded and
signed my name on his computer device, then took the box and went inside. WTF?
Who sends deliveries at eight in the morning on a Sunday?

I found a pair
of scissors in the kitchen and cut my way into the box, expecting to find
something that I had bought from a catalog and then forgotten about. Instead, I
found ten red roses, freshly cut and in perfect condition, plus a gift card. I
picked up the card and read it:

Dear Angel.
These are just to say ‘sorry,’ and to let you know I am thinking of you. Brad.

Well, blow me.
What was I supposed to do now?

I sat in the kitchen looking at my roses
and wondering what to do next. I found a vase for them, put them in water and
placed them on the kitchen table. If you must know, I felt really bad. And yes,
you’re right…I deserved it.

            But come on, I thought Brad
was gone for ever. After all, why would a good-looking, highly successful man
like him want to waste time on someone like me? A one-night stand I could make
sense of…but it seems that’s not his kind of thing. So he had politely left me
to spend the evening alone – and I had then spent the night fucking two other
guys. And then I get these roses. What does that mean? He wants us to have a
relationship? And if he does…do I want to have a relationship? Don’t get me
wrong, I was certainly attracted to him. But did I really want a relationship
with just one guy? Too many questions, and not enough answers.

            Ellen wandered into the
kitchen looking a bit sheepish and embarrassed. ‘Did I dream what happened last
night?’ she asked hopefully.

            I laughed a rather dirty
laugh. ‘Hell no…it happened all right. And you were awesome. We were both
awesome…and so were the guys.’

            Ellen went red in the face,
but then she started giggling. ‘Gosh…we were naughty, weren’t we?’ Then she saw
the roses on the table. I handed her the note, and she read it out loud. Then
she gave me a confused look. ‘What’s this all about?’

            I had some explaining to do.
I told her all about what had happened on Saturday, from my death-defying leap,
through to Brad’s sex-defying departure. Oh, yes…and the bit about picking up
strange men in a bar (cough).

            ‘So what am I supposed to do
now?’ I asked her, but she didn’t have any better answers than me. Eventually,
we decided the best course of action was to wait and see what 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 me
pause for thought. It’s one thing to have fun and sow your wild oats when you
are 22, but did I still want to be doing this when I was 25? Or 35? When would
I stop?

            Eventually, I could stand
Thomasin’s bragging no longer. I made my excuses as soon as was polite, and
headed back to the office. I could see that he was frustrated at having one get
away. But never mind, I was sure he wouldn’t find it hard to pick up another
floozie to hump. There are plenty of girls like me around.

            Before going back to the
office, I made a detour home and changed my clothes. I ditched the short skirt,
and found something that reached closer to my knees. I tied my hair back in a
more serious and professional way, and I toned down my make-up too. I checked
myself in the mirror and felt better about myself. Less of the available tramp,
and more of the sophisticated business woman.

           
Come on, Angel,
I
thought.
You can do this.

I arrived at Brad’s office early – probably
a little too early. The building was one of those dark-glassed office blocks
that tower over Sydney, stretching up about 60 stories. The reception area was
vast and elaborate, with a marble floor and statues of what I took to be Greek
mythical heroes. The statue next to the reception desk was a full-size one of a
fierce looking warrior who packed a fearsome punch in the loincloth department.
Very impressive. No wonder Greek women seem to be smiling all the time.

            I was still staring at his
package when I heard a cough, and realized the receptionist was trying to
attract my attention. I blushed a little and signed in, getting a badge
labelled Visitor in return for my signature. I strutted over to the elevators,
and pressed the button. While I waited, I read the names of all the companies
listed on the tenant’s board. Most of them were big corporates – international
banks and IT companies. You clearly needed to have money to get space in this
building. Eventually the elevator arrived, and I accelerated up to the 58
^th
floor at a rather scary speed.

            It seemed that Brad’s
company occupied the whole of this floor, and when the elevator doors opened, I
could almost taste the money. The floor was carpeted in lush red carpet that
must have cost a fortune, and the whole feel of the place was….well, expensive.
Brad was no ordinary doctor – it seemed he was running an empire. I had
expected nice offices, but I certainly hadn’t expected anything like this.
There was another reception desk for me to check in at, but this time there
were no formalities. As soon as I gave my name, the pretty brunette
receptionist greeted me as if I was a long-lost friend, and told me Brad would
be ready in a moment. I took a seat in the waiting area, and was amazed to
discover that the magazines on the table were all current issues – not a 1998
issue of Reader’s Digest in sight. Very different to visiting my dentist.

            I had picked up the latest
edition of Cosmopolitan, and was just getting into a juicy article on ‘Seven
Sex Positions You Have Never Tried Before’ (as if!) when I heard Brad’s silky
voice beside me.

            ‘Doing a little more
research on our topic, I see,’ he said, with a cheeky grin on his face.