Compulsive Promiscuity

A variant vag has the vagina's lips sitting lower. There may be some protrusion between the dividing line suggesting there is more behind the curtain. If you peel back the outer lips, you might find something exciting. Unless one's fingers do the stalking, it is still rather dull."

"A beautiful vagina should resemble a flower inviting pollination, an open bud, revealing the mystery of the soft petal-like skin folds surrounding the clitoris. The central glory, the clitoris, is not hidden but peeks out. The labia minora surrounds the clit as if it is a flower bud about to bloom. The labia minora and the labia majora shelter the center like protective cliffs around an island paradise. The flower invites, the clitoris swells to attention. Penis, digital or oral stimulation are always welcome. The flower is a lure for the penis. This vagina is sexy!"

"A common variant is almost as perfect, but for its loss of symmetry. The outer upper lips open wider to reveal the labia minora. Below, the inner lips are closer together. Aesthetically attractive, it still takes second place in the pantheon."

"Tom' s-ass" was surprised how well I understood the anatomy of the vagina and asked,

"Do men prefer one design over another? "

"Oh, without doubt, the full flower is the most preferred, but men, as you know, will fuck anything, even a hole in the wall."

"Men require a female anatomy instructor to explain all this—even men who have had intercourse many times know nothing of the anatomy they seek. I find oral sex with women extra thrilling when their labia are well-formed and floral. My tongue will lick the flowery vagina's delicate flesh, dividing the inner and outer labia's petals to reach the center, the clitoris. What a delight."

My descriptions had excited Dr. Frankenstone, who had an obvious erection. I got up quickly from the couch. Thomas's face had turned red. His attention seemed elsewhere. I made a grab for his swollen cock.

"No, you mustn't do..."

But it was too late. Once the Shrink's dick was in my clutches, he had no chance of escaping. My other hand unzipped his trousers. I pressed his penis through the passageway of his white underwear and right into my mouth. He had no hope of stopping what I'd set in motion.

Thomas lay back, realizing the battle was now lost. It was now time to be pleasured. A bounty of delights lay before him. When his penis began to pulsate, I knew ejaculation was imminent.

Thomas said, "That's enough, please stop."

I paused, "Thomas, sex without cuming is like an ice cream sundae without a cherry, it feels great but it is not complete," and I continued sucking. Running my tongue on the underside of his erect penis.

Just before he ejaculated, I lifted my short skirt, I wore no panties. Swinging my right leg over him, Thomas' wet, 7-inch erection passed from my mouth to my vagina in a heartbeat.

His eyes opened as he saw my cunt engulf his cock, his last words were,

"Oh my, oh yes," and looking at my pussy, "Oh, you have the flower,"

Then there was no sound except his heavy breathing. I felt his rapid heartbeat with my hands on his chest. The heart beat did not slow down until my vagina was full of his exudate. He'd cum rather quickly but I was pleased he got the full treatment and so did I.

I could hear that song of Leonard's, that he wrote about his wife after she left him, or as he said, "ran away."

"A ghost climbs on the table in a bridal negligee

She says, "My body is the light, my body is the way"

(Leonard Cohen, "The Gypsy's Wife" 1979)

I used the Shrink's private bathroom to clean up and left without another word spoken.

The next day I returned for my regular session, but Thomas wasn' there. I seated myself. It was unusual that he was late. Finally, he entered,

"Miss Borden, I can no longer continue as your therapist. I will make arrangements to have you transferred to Dr. Katy Stengel, who I'm sure after our last session, will do a better job than I."

"But Dr. Frankenstone, we were making such good progress, I'm feeling so much better about myself. It would be best if you did not abandon me. If you do, you will be responsible."

"What do you mean?"

"Suicide has always been on the table, that or mutilation might be a solution. We reached such closeness with our last session. I would never tell anyone the depth of understanding we have achieved. I beg you. We can proceed and forget the last session or repeat it at your request. I felt our intimacy was very healing." Leonard's lyrics came to me,

"But now another stranger seems

To want you to ignore his dreams"

(Leonard Cohen "The Stranger Song" 1967)

"Well, let's skip today's session. I will consider your comments. Good day, Miss Borden. Don't do anything stupid." Dr. Frankenstone got up and like they say, 'Elvis has left the room.'"

My face was severe and serious, but I was grinning on the inside because now I was in control!

STORY 9 -- THERAPY CUNT-TINUES

Dr. Frankenstone, against his better judgment, agreed to continue with my sessions for the remainder of my ninety-day commitment. I realized at a certain point. If I was to get out of the asylum and have my liberty again, I had better start playing along."

I was fortunate that Thomas did not stop seeing me. We agreed very quickly that we'd lock the door on Fridays, skip the session, and have sex. Once a week wasn't adequate for me, but I made due. I did have my fingers and a cock sized shampoo bottle.

Thomas discussed the implications of compulsive sexual behavior, what the Shrinks call hypersexuality. He asked,

"Are you preoccupied with sexual fantasies?

I said," No, I didn't need fantasies, I have plenty of realities if I wished to recall them: some great, some good, and some terrible. Once I've experienced sex with a partner, I don't rethink it unless it was exceptional sex, then I'm hoping for more.

"Can you control these urges?"

"That's a good question. I'm not sure I can. Once a man or woman touches me intimately, I can't say no, even if it is a despicable person. Like that song in the musical 'Annie get your Cock', I mean "get your Gun." as in the song, "I'm just a girl who can't say no."

"I had a boyfriend, Jason Littlefield, he was the school sports photographer when I was in my third year of college. During half-time, Jason and I were high on pot. He put his hand under my mini skirt and was fingering me while we smoked. I was getting very excited.

"How would you like to get fucked by a bunch of the players?"

"Sure," I said, not really thinking he was serious."

"After the big game, Jason took me by the hand and walked me into the locker room. The guys were either nude or half undressed."

"Who wants to fuck my girlfriend," he announced.

Immediately a line formed of ten or twelve of the guys. I laid down on the wooden bench and lifted my mini skirt and one guy after another dipped his wick in me. Of course I was nude by the time the first few guys finished fucking me and someone stuck a jacket under my head to keep me from banging my head as they slammed their cocks into me. It didn't take too long, the guys, primed with testosterone, were ready, you could smell it. That and their sweat. The Quarterback, Dijohn Taylor was one of the last to go.

"Your cunt is a fucking pot of hot jizz," he said as he inched his big dick inside me.

"I was pretty tired at that point but I managed to get my legs around his thin waist and he just splashed that ocean of cum out of me. When we finished fucking, we'd drenched the bench and the floor. The last guy, Diamond Woods slipped and fell in it, as he approached. It didn't stop him, he got up and got on top of me. I wanted to finish the orgy, so I tightened my cunt when 'Big D' got his very wide cock inside me. That triggered the evening's last eruption. Of course someone took photos of me and put them on the internet before the cum had dried. My fame spread that night, the phone never stopped ringing with offers of all sorts."

"Maybe seeing me covered with all the team sperm was a put-off. I said to Jason, who looked rather unhappy,

"Don't suggest me doing things that afterward you can't deal with."

"I wasn't serious," was his response.

"Well, you could have fooled me or stopped me. You were the one who walked me in and made the announcement."

"You had that stupid grin on your face like you were enjoying being gang fucked, that killed it for me."

The next day Jason came by. I could see from the tent pole in his pants, that he was in the mood, Jason the jerk, wanted to fuck me.

"Hey hon, how about a fuck for the Team Photographer"

"No chance, I said, "My pussy is sore as hell, and basketball season is about to start, that's the team I gotta get ready for."

"That put an end to that num nut. We broke up after that night. I'm sure it was Jason who took the photos and put them on the web. Another one bites the dust, I thought and I could hear,"

"Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair

She said that you gave it to her...

And you treated my woman to a flake of your life

And when she came back she was nobody's wife"

(Leonard Cohen, "Famous Blue Raincoat," 1971)

"This provocative sexual behavior, when did it start?"

"I guess mostly in my first year of college. I had a few sexual liaisons with teachers. Ms. Faer, who taught Spanish, asked me to come in after class so she could demonstrate "Spanish is the loving tongue." She locked the door and ate me right on her big desk. She certainly proved her pointed tongue was the right tool. I didn't realize my ass was on her roll book. She got me so wet, the cover was stained with a Rorschach ass print.

Her tongue was so long she practically undid the buttons on my skirt. Not to mention how she used her long fingers at the same time. After a few of these sessions, she invited me to her home with the excuse she wanted me to babysit. It turns out she had no children. What she wanted was for me to have sex with her and her husband.

When I got there, her hubby offered me a glass of Spanish red wine. Ms. Faer disappeared somewhere, and It didn't take long before her husband, Jerzy,started talking about how rare the wine was, a Temporillo. As he lectured on wine he brought me into the bedroom to show me some erotic painting he had done. I guess I'd had too much to drink because somehow I ended up in bed with him. He told me he knew his wife had sex with me and said it was her idea that he should also. He began his seduction with the skill of a BullFighter. I didn't ressit and allowed him to undress me.

The strange thing was he had an ample erection and what I'd describe as a pretty cut cock, but when fucking me, he couldn't get off. He kept trying to cum, but he never was able too. Finally, he was too exhausted to continue. Mrs. Faer then arrived, she was nude in a red silk bathrobe. Hubby started complaining to his wife that he'd get blue balls if he didn't drop a load.

"Don't worry, honey, Lizzie, and I will get you off.

Ms. Faer came to the rescue with a bottle of silicone lube. She told me to hold his nuts in my hand as she lathered him up and started jerking him off. The hubby seemed content, but he still hadn't cum.

"When I tell you, stick your finger in his ass," said my prof.

Finally, hubby started to groove on the hand jive and started making animal noises.

"Now, Lizzie!"

I shoved my lubed finger, the one with the shortest nail. Right up hubby's kazoo and the fucker's cum shot almost hit the ceiling. Some of his goo spattered on my head. Ms. Faer handed me a towel and excused her hubby's lousy aim. She just laughed. I thought the whole act was comedic.

Afterward, Jerzy fell asleep with an angelic smile.

"This sometimes happens with men. Not every rocket launch is a moon shot.'

Once the "astronaut" was asleep, Ms. Faer and I were able to enjoy the next hour without interference,

"Traveling lady stay awhile,

Until the night is over

I'm justa station on your way"

(Leonard Cohen, Winter Lady, 1967)

It was finger time, oral, and before my prof finished, she even put on a well-lubed strap-on. While we were having fun sex on one side of the bed, hubby was snoring happily on the other side. Wow, was I tired when my Dad came by at 11:30, honked the car horn once, and I dressed quickly and started to run out when Faer pressed a fifty dollar bill in my hand.

"Did you make any money?" said my Dad.

"I waved the fifty dollar bill I was clutching."

"Well, that's a nice payday," Dad said, "but you look exhausted."

"Yeah, her kids are monsters."

STORY 10--INTERNATIONAL SEXUAL RELATIONS WITH CHINA

Mr. Fang was Chinese and taught my freshman history class in college. He was very tall but said he was too much of a nerd to play basketball. I was kind of curious about Chinese men, were they built the same as American men? Some of the girls had joked that the Chinese had small cocks.

One afternoon, Mr. Fang asked me to wait after class for an extra credit project. I came in and sat down as he worked on his role book. I didn't know what to expect when he got up from his desk and locked the door.

"Lizzie, I'm going to ask you a serious question, and if you are not in agreement, that's fine, but you have to keep it to yourself."

"OK, no problem."

"Do you promise?"

"Sure, Mr. Fang, what is it?"

"I've heard from some of the guys that you are more advanced in certain sexual areas than other students. Would you give me a blow job?"

I couldn't say no, he seemed in such need. I learned quite quickly that his penis was the right size, at least six or seven inches long, and it didn't take him long to cum. He handed me some tissues, but his cum seemed to go right down my throat. I just wiped off my lips.

"A sip of wine, a cigarette

And then it's time to go

I tidied the kitchenette

I tuned the old banjo"

(Leonard Cohen, "Boogie Street," 2001)

"God," said Wang, "That felt so good., I needed that. Thanks so much, Lizzie."

I wasn't sure if he meant his dick or my tit he held onto while I serviced him, but I was sure of one thing, this guy loved BJ's.

"Any time Mr. Wang, I'm glad to be of help. After that, usually once a week on Tuesdays, I'd stay behind and make him happy. He never asked to fuck me. He just loved blow jobs.

The final exam was on the Tuesday, when I usually serviced Mr. Wang. Afterwards, he went over most of my tests with me, correcting a few of my errors. I ended up scoring pretty well, although some of his cum shot through the kleenex he was holding and sprayed on a bunch of test forms. I guess I wasn't in the mood to swallow it all that afternoon. Before I left, we did our best to wipe them off, but his cum cut through paper like a buzz saw. Fang laughed,

"I hope the sperm doesn't alter the answers," said Fang, "screw up the scores."

Mr. Fang loved being sucked off. I asked,

"Does your wife ever give you a blow job?

"Oh, no, never."

"Why is that?"

"She thinks sucking a penis is disgusting."

"I guess rimming doesn't appeal to her either?

He had a good laugh at that.

Fang was also the coach for the College Chess team. When he found out I played chess quite well, he was insistent that I join. My Dad had taught me, and he was a city champ years back. Fang arranged through the Chinese Embassy, for our team to play a group of visiting Chinese students in a chess tournament. We all met in the teachers' lounge where Fang had unpacked a sumptuous lunch catered by the Sun Wong restaurant.That was the best place near the college for fancy Chinese food.

After the lunch, Mr. Fang said something in Chinese to an attractive male student and then introduced me. The student's name was Wing Fat. I learned that it was a common last name. Wing was in his third year of college and was older than me. I thought he was kind of cute. He was about my height and had a pleasant smile, a buzz haircut and the beginnings of a bureaucrat's belly. He said to call him by his English name, "Paul." He was a Beetle fan and the group leader.

He gave me a pretty tin box as a gift. He assured me it was the number one tea in China. I don't often make tea, but I thanked him. He threw his arms around me and hugged me. I found myself the center of his attention for the next hour. He spoke reasonably good English and was used to being in charge. Now and then, he'd give orders to the other students who listened attentively.

"I'm the team captain," he explained.

After we finished lunch, Wing seemed to know where to go. He took me by the hand and pulled me into the empty clothes closet. How he even knew what it was, surprised me. I guess clothes closets are nothing new. Before I knew it, he had his cock out and lifted my dress to pull down my panties. I thought to resist, but I didn't want to make a fuss and embarrass both of us, and possibly create an international incident. I guess I was thinking of "Ping-Pong Diplomacy," mentioned in our history book. I felt it most comfortable to let him finish and then to complain, if appropriate.

He started breathing heavily, almost immediately. I didn't want him coming inside me. I pushed him back and caught his dick in my left hand. He came all over my palm. I didn't see his penis size because the closet was dark, but he was a handful, and his testicles were as big as ping pong balls. I excused myself and washed my hands in the ladies' room. Wing seemed so needy and sure of himself.

Wing was so excited by our "closet encounter" that he lost the competition chess match to me an hour later. It turned out that I was the only winner from our team. I don't know if I won or he lost on purpose? He certainly succeeded in the closet. I had no complaints. I've read cum is the best hand cream.

"...but don't go home with your hard-on

It will only drive you insane"

(Leonard Cohen, "Hard-on Song" 2009)

When the event was over, and everyone had left, I asked Mr. Fang what he had said to Wing.

"I told him you were a Dàng fù."

"What is a Dàng fù?"

"Now don't get mad, I told him you were a bit of a slut. Was I wrong?"

"We both know the answer to that. Did Wing tell you what happened in the clothes closet?"

"Yes, Lizzie, you are such a Dàng fù!"

After our Friday class, I stayed behind. Grateful for all the support Mr. Fang had given me, I asked him if he'd like another blow job?

"Not today, Lizzi, I have to fuck my wife tonight. If I don't fuck her once a week, she'll think some Dàng fù at the school is giving me blow jobs."

One thing I loved about Mr. Fang, he had a great sense of humor and a very clean cock, and contrary to silly stories I'd heard, his dick was a perfect size for oral sex. I'm sure it would have filled out my vag if only he'd asked.

Thomas was upset when I told him about the two teachers with whom I'd had sex. He seemed to focus on Mr. Fang,

"Its a total abuse of privilege, a crime for a teacher to have sex with a student and then pass you to another student to further take advantage of you."

"It happens, no biggie. We were both consenting adults from a college class."

"That's still no excuse for that behavior," said the Shrink, "Why are you defending him. And then the threesome you had with the Spanish teacher. Lizzie, you are not demonstrating good judgement. You must learn to control yourself."

In one of my last therapy sessions, Thomas tried to give me some good advice. He said that my history of sexual perversity could negatively affect my life. Jobs, relationships and health are put at risk.

"I know you are right, but sucking and fucking is so much fun. There is nothing like having the warm flesh of an erect cock in your vag or mouth. The feeling of accomplishment when you make it squirt, and the intimacy it often creates afterward are so rewarding."