The Sex Rehab Diaries: StaceybyDancing_Doll©
"I'm Stacey, and I'm a sex addict."
I knew I wasn't the only person in the room that was in denial over that statement even as it left my mouth. 'Admit that you need help and recovery will come quicker and last longer'. I had to hold back my initial laughter as I'd read the mission statement that had been emblazoned on the front of our orientation binders at The Belleview Retreat for Sexual Health. My mind immediately substituted "cum" for "come" and... anyway, yeah I guess I was probably one of those people that needed to take my sexual exploits a little more seriously after all.
I had actually changed a lot after meeting my boyfriend Matt three years earlier, and even more so after we had moved in together. He was just as sexually adventurous and twisted as I was, and I started to realize there was something to be said about quality over quantity. I no longer craved sexual attention from other men. I had everything I needed between us. During those years we had an insatiable and very monogamous sex life. We were the hot young couple that couldn't keep their hands off each other in public, causing our friends to be envious, and making them wonder what our secret was. And sometimes I would tell them. We had always been firm believers in letting ourselves explore a wide range of dirty and perverse sexual fantasies. We would spend hours in the heat of our raunchy weekend play, hotly whispering our desires and spinning scenarios that we'd probably never really carry out, but verbalizing them and imagining how far we could push our boundaries had always been part of the thrill. How was I to know that we were opening a dangerous door that one day I'd have trouble closing again?
I can still remember Matt's face the last time I'd come home from one of those nights.
"It's gone too far Stacey... the whole thing has gone way too far..."
I shook my head to clear it of the disturbing memory. I was in sex rehab to get help. And after I released the skeletons in my closet, I would be closer to starting with a clean slate and making our relationship work again.
I turned to the class in our group therapy session and all the faces that were surrounding me, wondering if they would judge me. Hell, I might have even judged myself if I'd heard my story as an outsider looking in. I started to sweat into my four inch red stilettos. I probably should have dressed in a quieter way, but this was my last day reveling in my bonafide slut status before I started walking away from my sexual addictions, and I was definitely going out in style. The short black skirt was tight and shiny and the bustier top pushed my breasts up high. I had left my dark blond hair loose around my shoulders. I was dressed just as I had been on the night that had started my spiral into depravity. It gave me a little thrill, even knowing I would burn the outfit before my stay at the resort was over as a final symbolic sacrifice to the ways of the old Stacey. I could feel the familiar dampness of arousal on the back of my neck and I licked my lips. Yes, I would have to say goodbye to that Stacey. The dirty, slutty cum-sucking Stacey that couldn't get enough cock and loved to take it up the...
"Stacey, why don't you introduce yourself properly," Dr Clark, said absent-mindedly as she looked up from her clipboard. The therapist smiled in her usual detached way, completely oblivious to how wet my panties already were. There was something austere and yet simultaneously awkward about her. It was as though she was playing a role she wasn't quite comfortable with, but was desperate to authenticate. "It says here that you cheated on your boyfriend...uhm... multiple times?"
"Well, that's not exactly true. At least it wasn't in the beginning," I began, nervously twisting the papers that held my written confession in my hand. I wanted to set the tone right away. I had always been a faithful girlfriend... sort of.
"In some ways, to be perfectly honest Dr Clark, I feel like I kind of got duped. I mean the cheating, if you want to call it that, was all part of the fantasy. If you want to get technical about it, this isn't completely my fault."
I heard a round of laughter and giggles from the circle of fellow addicts that surrounded me.
"Settle down class," Dr Clark admonished sharply. "You've all been in Stacey's shoes before. Denial is the first stage to recovery. And clearly there's a part of her that isn't ready to let go of this... side of her." I could see her eyes raking over my provocative outfit with obvious scorn.
"I wore this on purpose, by the way," I assured her.
"And thank god for that," the good-looking guy to my left said with a low whistle. "She has my full attention."
"Shane, I don't believe that hitting on every single girl that shares her story in this classroom is part of your treatment plan," Dr Clark said with sarcasm. "Now why don't we let Stacey tell us why she's wearing this... outfit."
"I was wearing it on that night..."
"The night you cheated on your boyfriend?"
"No, the night he wanted me to cheat on him. There's a difference."
"Interesting concept. Why don't you begin telling us your story."
I uncrumpled the pages I had been tightly holding onto and took a deep breath. I began to share how it had all began.
The first time Matt and I had discussed the idea of me having sex with other men, I thought he was trying to test me. Maybe he was worried about my promiscuous past and was wondering if I was still willing and wanting to fuck other people. He had brought it up while I had him tied to our four-poster bed, lustily riding him. He was wet with sweat beneath me, gagged and restrained while I moved on his cock with my hands pressed against his chest, using his body as leverage. As he was nearing his climax, I tore the gag from his mouth, feeling my pussy tense around his shaft as he started telling me how hot it would be to hear me tell him in dirty detail how I'd just fucked a total stranger and let him turn me into a slut. An inexplicable primal kind of arousal flamed through me as we began to spin details of the fantasy. I untied him, feeling him take control and pin me down on the bed, his breath hot in my ear, telling me how exciting it would be to know I had submitted myself completely and then come home to him to playfully torture him with every filthy detail.
The cuckold fantasy took on a life of its own over time, alternating and taking turns with me in control of the situation and dominating him and then him eventually punishing me for my dirty transgressions. I don't know why it ended up being one of our favourite fantasies to play with. It was a novelty for me, having always been with such possessive boyfriends in the past to imagine the man that I loved getting turned on by such a sordid scenario. For him the idea of me subjecting myself to such a raw kind of defilement to taunt and tease him was the ultimate in female control, and it was something that he had always encouraged in me.
The more we played with that fantasy and those ideas, the more it began to play out in my mind when we weren't in bed. I found myself thinking about it while I ran on the treadmill at the gym, or when I was at my desk at work, letting my mind wander to where it wanted. He started to tease me with it often. I'd be rushing to my desk after lunch to grab my ringing phone and it would be him on the other end of the line.
"You sound out of breath Stacey. Hmm... I wonder why that is... did you just fuck someone on your lunch hour?" His voice was always teasing and playful.
I would laugh. "Maybe I did. Maybe I slipped into my bosses office and leaned over his desk and let him fuck my ass to relieve stress after our big meeting this morning."
"Mmm, I bet you did. I know what a good office slut you can be."
I smiled to myself thinking back to the time Matt had waited to pick me up late after work and I'd given him a blowjob in the photocopy room.
I'd go home that night and we'd have wild sex, while I made up filthy details of being the office slut. His cock would be hard and pulsing and thrusting hard inside me as I moaned about being naked on my knees under my boss's desk, sucking his dick all afternoon while he ran conference calls.
Every time I'd push the envelope just a little more by flirting with someone during my day, or noticing the guy at the gym staring at my ass while I did my stretches and it did a lot to fuel our role-playing. Eventually Matt would openly dare me to push fantasy into reality. I think it excited him to know that I 'might' do something naughty; even though we both knew in an unspoken way that it would probably never happen. I loved him and I valued our relationship far too much to roll the dice that way. But still, what harm was there in indulging a few harmless fantasies?
When my friend Kendra suggested a 'girls night' out at our favourite bar one Friday evening, I hadn't really thought too much about it.
"Are you going to go out with the guys?" I called to Matt while I was straightening my long blonde hair in the bathroom.
"Uhmm, not sure yet," he replied. "We might just stay low key and watch UFC or something. Either way, you should cab it. I know you'll be drunk when you get home."
"And why are you so sure of that?" I laughed.
"Cause Kendra is a party girl... and let's face it... a bit of a slut too." He was lounging in the doorway to the bathroom watching me through the mirror with a smirk. "Speaking of sluts, isn't that the dirty-girl outfit that I just bought you last month. I thought you were going to wear that when we went out together next week."
I leaned back to kiss his lips reassuringly. "I'll still wear it next weekend for you, I promise. But I know Kendra will dress sexy tonight, and I don't have anything else that's quite this perfect. Plus this way we won't have to worry about standing in line or cover charge at the door. One of the many advantages of girls night." I said with a wink.
"Hmm... free entrance, free cover... and surely lots of free drinks from guys that will be dying to fuck this tight little body," he came up behind me and ran his hands up under my short black skirt as I wriggled against him playfully. "Just checking to see if you're wearing panties."
"I am, as you can plainly see." I said sticking my tongue out at him in our reflection in the mirror as my skirt slid up over my little red sheer panties.
"I'll have to check and make sure you're still wearing them at the end of the night," he teased slipping a finger inside and running it up the length of my silky smooth slit. "Who knows what kind of trouble you'll end up getting into."
"Who knows? Maybe I'll be a bad girl tonight."
"I hope so," he grinned, biting my ear.
"You better be careful," I had warned him. "One of these days..."
He laughed. "Sure, sure..."
Our playful conversation had been nothing out of the ordinary. Just a little light hearted teasing to start the night and create a little sexual tension that we would surely be releasing later on when I got home. I had every intention of being a good girl until then.
That is, until the cab showed up in front of our apartment building to pick me up. Kendra was wearing a tight pink dress, and was obviously already drunk. She leaned forward to hug me in a blur of long dark hair and I caught the familiar scent of her perfume.
"Look what I have...." she sang in a giddy voice, pressing something into the palm of my hand as the cab started moving again.
I knew what it was before I looked down. I recognized the alert semi-glazed look in her eyes and the feeling of the small square plastic bag in my hand.
"This is sooo not the night I had in mind," I admonished quickly putting the bag of cocaine into my tiny purse before the cab driver noticed.
"Oh come on," Kendra cajoled. "Just keep it for later... incase you change your mind."
I shrugged but didn't say anything else about it. We had partied that way many times in the past. Kendra was still rolling with that lifestyle regularly, whereas I had settled down when I'd moved in with Matt. I had wanted to leave our old college partying ways behind, and I realized over time that I hadn't really missed it either.
"You've been so busy playing house and being the good girlfriend, you never have any time for meeeee," she whined, hugging me as we started walking towards the front entrance of the bar. "Let's just have a fun time tonight like the good old days. Who knows when I'll get to see you next!"
It was true that my girls' nights were becoming less and less frequent, as often happened when in the perfect haze of an exciting relationship. But as we walked into the bar, and I heard the dark beats of the music, and felt that vibe of energy and people, I started to remember how much fun it used to be. I loved getting the stares and the attention as we made our way to the bar. There was nothing like two hot girls hand in hand, walking across the room amidst crowds of men and 'plain Janes'. It felt good to turn heads, and we welcomed the first round of drinks from a group of guys standing nearby. It was the start of a great night. I remember having that feeling, right from the start.
Kendra and I quickly lapsed into our old partying ways. The rhythm of the music was pounding, the heat from the bar, and the people that were dancing under the lights was dizzying and electrifying at the same time. She and I were dancing sexy on the floor together, pressed against each other provocatively as we typically did when we were drunk and riding a great high. I could feel the dampness of my body as I moved to the music, blissfully unaware that we were being watched by a group of guys in the raised VIP section of the bar until Kendra leaned into my ear.
"There's a group of hot guys up there are motioning for us to join them. Can we... please?"
Kendra was single and always looking to hook up with someone when she was drunk, so of course I obliged her. We made our way up past the sectioned off velvet rope as they quickly cleared some room for us. They were six of them, all attractive and looked to be in their late twenties and early thirties. They were just out on a random guy's night, but they clearly knew how to party in style. The Grey Goose was flowing and the drinks were being handed to us in never ending liquid supply, and obviously being poured with a heavy hand.
"So, are you girls single?" one guy named Aaron asked me as I danced near the back bench he was sitting on.
I shook my head. "I'm not, but my friend Kendra is."
I glanced over and saw Kendra grinding and making out with one of his friends, clearly already having taken her pick of them.
Aaron smirked at me playfully. "So your boyfriend doesn't mind that you're dressed all sexy like this and partying it up tonight without him?"
I laughed. "He bought me this outfit first of all, and secondly... no, he's not jealous like that. He actually likes it when I'm a bad girl."
He grinned at me and sat back to watch my long legs as I danced. The lusty look in his eyes, combined with the thrill of his attention on me, encouraged me to dance a little sexier, enjoying teasing him just as much as he was enjoying the show I was putting on.
"Hmm... I'm pretty sure you'd be in trouble if he could see you right now."
"Not even close," I assured him with a wink.
Encouraged by my comment, he stood up and came a little closer, leaning against the railing.
"So how bad are you allowed to be?" he asked with obvious interest. "Theoretically speaking, of course."
I laughed and took another sip of my vodka soda, pausing for a minute and suddenly realizing how drunk I was. I could feel the intoxication of the alcohol combined with the rush of the cocaine Kendra and I had been doing bumps of giving me a kind of euphoric overconfidence. I hadn't partied this way in a long time and the buzz was exhilarating, making me feel bolder than I normally would have. I leaned into him, smelling the scent of his aftershave and feeling the warmth of his chest as I whispered into his ear.
"I'm allowed to be very bad. In fact, that's actually part of his fantasy."
"Oh yeah? Your boyfriend fantasizes about you being a little slut, does he?" I could feel the sudden shift in energy as he picked up on an obvious opportunity.
"Very slutty," I said, thinking back to all my kinky conversations with Matt and all the hot sordid sex that always followed.
I began to imagine how intense it would be if I had a real story to tell him this time. I felt my panties start to dampen in response as I fanned myself lightly. The night was suddenly feeling very hot with possibilities. I started turning the idea over in my mind while I looked out over the dance floor, leaning forward on the railing with this random good-looking stranger. The wheels started spinning in my mind, effectively daring me.
"Maybe it's time you turned that fantasy into reality..." Aaron urged with a wink.
I remember laughing again in response, feeling the swell of my drunken high lulling me into the excitement of making a bold move. Finally with an unexpected decisiveness, I turned to him and smiled.
"Why don't you come with me..."
The next few hours seemed to pass in a hazy mess of drunken hedonistic debauchery. It was near closing time and I was still in the VIP bathroom, leaning against the door.
"Are you sure you're able to get home ok? Your friend left with our buddy ages ago," Aaron said.
I grinned at him, waving my hand dismissively. "I'm fine, I just have to make a quick phone call."
I watched Aaron walk away and moved back into the bathroom and closed the door, looking at my reflection in the mirror and the wicked smirk playing on my lips as I waited to hear Matt's voice on the other end of the cell phone. When he answered, I felt a little electric thrill rush through me, especially as I sweetly began to beg him to come pick me up at the bar.
"Kendra left already and I don't have enough money for a cab," I said. "Please come... I promise I'll make it worth your while..."
He laughed, although clearly not impressed by how late I was calling. Of course, he decided to humour me.
"I'll be there in ten minutes, but make sure that you're out front."
I hung up and ran my hands through my sticky hair, trying to smooth down my rumpled skirt. Thank god for long hair. I let it partially hide my face as I waited just the right amount of time and then snuck across the mostly empty bar to the front door. I saw Matt's large black SUV pull up in front of the bar and I hurried outside, thinking that the warm August night still felt cooler than the hot blood and burst of adrenaline running through my veins as I slid into the passenger seat.
"Hey," he said glancing at my messy hair, and flushed wet face. "Wow, you look like you must have been dancing up a storm."
I laughed mischievously. "Something like that. Hey, pull into that parking lot for a second. I wanna tell you something."
"Seriously? Can't it wait until we get home?"
I just grinned wickedly at him. "Nope, I can't wait that long."
He was looking at me with a kind of curious suspicion, clearly uncertain about what to expect as he obliged me by pulling into the dark empty parking lot one street over. He put the car into park, and turned to me, amused by my obvious energy and excitement.
"Wow, you're sooo drunk. Were you girls partying a little harder than usual?"
"Hmm... maybe just a little harder," I teased, reaching over him and pushing the buttons to move his seat back as far as it would go.
"Aww, Stacey, why don't we just go home to our nice big bed and our..."
"Shhh..." I whispered, pressing my finger to his lips. I giggled, pressing a little harder on his full bottom lip, forcing them to part until the tip of my finger was in his mouth. As I slid it in a little further, I watched his reaction slowly begin to change. His green eyes widened just a little, obviously recognizing a familiar and yet unfamiliar taste.