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Chapter Four
Jackson
I’m jonesing like a motherfucker. My hands are shaking so bad I look as though I have a tick. Wiping the sweat coating my palms down the front of my black slacks, I do my best not to run into the restroom before my date gets here. If it were an ordinary day when my craving had taken over, I would I deal with the problem myself.
But after imaging mystery woman’s tits all morning and the way her lips felt wrapped around my cock yesterday during lunch, I can’t wait to stick my dick in her. We’re meeting for sex in a public bathroom. For the second day in a row. Despite my usual rule of no repeats, her hummer skills were too good not to try out once more.
And I’m desperate. I have a sickness. I need sex like a junkie needs their next fix. The high only lasts so long before the craving comes back. Then, my willpower flees along with my self-control. Some days, I can make it twelve hours, white knuckling it most of the day until I cave by night. Masturbation is not enough to quench my hunger.
I am defenseless when it comes to satisfying my needs. My friend says I have a sex addiction. Maybe he’s right. Hell, I am a fucking sex therapist. I know he is right. All the signs are there. I ignore them. All that matters at this moment is that the itch I need to scratch will soon go away, and I can continue on with the rest of my day as if meeting strange women for quickies at Broad Street Beans is normal.
Debating whether I should grab a latte and wait for the sexy-as-fuck woman I met this morning, I decide to sit by the front door instead. She’s late, and I’m horny, both of which are not a good combination. The longer I wait, the more I will succumb to my own desires.
I’m two seconds from leaving the coffee shop when the blonde bombshell walks through the door, running a hand through her long curls that fall perfectly back into place. It would be nice if I knew her name to call out to her. Not that I would need it, otherwise. The only words I’ll be saying until we’re through are spread your legs and yeah, you like that. Then, we can go our separate ways.
I stand up with my hand raised, waving it in her direction until her eyes flicker with acknowledgment. The pickings are often slim when I need a fix, and she will more than do the trick. She’s the kind of girl you pay big money for when you’re this hard up, not the kind that falls into your lap.
Mystery girl strolls toward me with her head held high, and her breasts pushed out, showing off a huge rack that makes me hard just thinking about shoving my face between them. How she carries herself with such grace and confidence when she’s about to fuck a random dude in a public bathroom amazes me. On some level, I feel shame for what we’re about to do, but I really don’t give a shit. I have demons to feed. And they like pussy.
She must not care either, or why else would she have come back for more?
I nod in the direction of the bathroom at the back of the store and walk inside, knowing she will join me. The door swings open a few seconds later.
With a bright smile plastered on her face, she’s gorgeous, tall with perfect hair that falls past her shoulders, and built like a swimsuit model. This woman reminds me of a girl I once knew, the love of my life. The only girl I ever loved. On some deeper level, I want her more than normal because of it. I’m breaking my no seconds rule for that reason.
“Hey,” she says with a small wave and flash of her white teeth. “You know if we’re going to make this a regular thing you could at least tell me your name.”
I shake my head. “No. Trust me it’s better this way. Now, turn around and put your hands on the wall.”
She follows my order, pressing her palms to the painted cinderblock and lifts her ass up in offering to me.
No attachments. That’s my motto. The last time I allowed a woman to get too close, she ran away, left me with a gaping whole inside my chest. I’m done with romance and love, sick of watching as people find their soulmate. I don’t believe in shit like that anymore. The here and now is all I care about. And right now, I want to fuck this girl and be on my way, not see if she has what it takes to become the future Mrs. King.
“Spread your legs,” I command, my voice coming off like a growl. “Wider,” I instruct, watching as she separates her thighs for me, the tight dress she has on bunching up around her hips.
My dick throbs in anticipation of being inside her. I flip the lock on the restroom door, and then unzip my pants with one hand and remove a condom from my pocket with the other. I don’t have time to waste when I’m like this, out of control and aching to relieve myself of this torture. My balls are tight, full and ready to dump a load inside this chick.
I tear open the foil packet and roll the condom down my length. Pushing up her dress, I take her bare ass in my hand, happy to discover she didn’t bother to wear panties this time. I position myself at her entrance and lean forward, breathing against her neck as I plunge inside her wetness. She tightens around my dick, her juices coating my sensitive skin, forcing me to suck in a deep breath. I am free once again. I can bury myself deep inside this woman and forget about everything. She is my high, feeding my addiction with each thrust.
Gripping her hair in my hands, I tilt her head back until our eyes meet. Desire and the same hunger I have scrolls across her face. She looks like a sweet girl, maybe innocent at one time, but she’s just as far gone as me. We both want this shameful fuck against a dirty bathroom wall. I want it now more than ever.
Someone knocks on the door, and I laugh to myself as I pump into her harder and faster. They could break down the door down, and I wouldn’t bother to stop—not until I bust a nut. Covering her mouth with my hand, I stifle her moans. She’s so damn loud there’s no hiding our bathroom quickie. Her teeth graze my skin, this one apparently a biter. I guess it was for the best that I chose to fuck her from behind. Otherwise, I’d probably have her claw marks down my arms and back.
And, now it’s my turn to reach the point of ecstasy. I come so fucking hard, clutching her hips as I find my release. But it will only last for so long. This was a means to an end, a temporary fix to get me through the rest of the day. After I pull out of her, she spins around with her back against the wall, trying to catch her breath. With her pussy on display, I get the idea to have her once more. But the person who had banged on the door earlier is back again, and this time angrier than before because they’re yelling obscenities through it.
We didn’t even try to hide what we were doing in here. My mystery date moaned so loud I’d be wiling to bet the barista heard her in the front of the store. The sounds she made could’ve given every man in the coffee shop a boner. This girl is a real porn star when it comes to the over-the-top orgasm. Not that I mind. Most men like to know when they do a good job, and the noises erupting from her body, as if possessed by the devil, were only a testament to how good I had given it to her.
“Same time tomorrow,” she says, giving me those bedroom eyes once more.
For a second, I think about saying no. But when an orgasm calls, you need to answer it. It’s not like I don’t know ahead of time that the same need will come back. And after hours of listening to married couples bicker, and men with broken dicks complain how they can’t get it up, I will be desperate to slip away from the office to have meaningless sex with a beautiful stranger.
She’s defying my no repeat rule. I must be losing my edge. Ignoring the angel on my shoulder, telling me to stop, I go with the devil because that part of me needs this to happen again. It’s better than jerking off behind the desk at my office to whatever porn pops up in my queue for the day. Not that I won’t be surfing my favorite sites later to quench the need.
I nod. “Yeah, same time tomorrow.”
She pulls her dress back over her hips and runs her hands down the front to smooth out the wrinkles. Her cheeks are red and blotchy, the blonde strands that were once perfectly in place now tucked behind her ears. I step into the bathroom stall to flush the condom and clean up before tucking myself back into my pants.
I feel so cheap. But I don’t let the thought linger longer than necessary. Every day I scald myself, knowing that there is something wrong with me. I have a deep seeded problem that if it were a patient coming to me for help, I could address the issue. But my behavior started long ago, right after I had graduated from college. Sadly, I stopped caring back then, because now my needs come first.
