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“What? I can never be too careful. I’d rather have them and not need them, than not have them at all. The last thing I need is to bring a guy here and the condom be too big.”
“That’s why you check out the package before you ask him to deliver,” she retorts.
“You know there are times that I can’t do that.”
Ava knows of my addiction; we’re as close as two friends can possibly be. She’s seen me at my worst, when the tremors and sickness take hold. She understands, and doesn’t judge me. That’s part of the reason why I love her so much.
“True,” she mutters, looking at me with sympathy, and a hint of mirth. “Poor, poor, Abby.”
I grab the brush from my dresser and chuck it at her. She catches it and laughs.
“Bitch,” I huff. Walking out of the bedroom, I head straight for the kitchen, where my coffee is sitting on the counter. Pulling the tab away, I take a sip, nearly scalding my throat.
“Let’s go, before the guys get their panties in a twist,” Ava says, handing me my purse and grabbing her own coffee.
Twenty minutes later, we walk through the door of Suzie’s. It’s a small place that me, Ava, Nathan, and Tegan frequent often. We’re an odd group, to say the least, each of us having our own sexual addictions. The professionals have labeled our addictions as hypersexual disorders. Me, Nathan, and Tegan met during a sexual addiction’s support group, and decided to branch out on our own, feeling the group was a waste of time. Mine is sex in general. If I don’t have it at least once a day, I literally go through withdrawals, like a drug addict would. I get the shakes, stomach cramps, irritability, headache, and panic attacks. I used to try to curb my appetite by withdrawing from everyone and everything, scared the need would come when I couldn’t appease it, and the ridicule I would get. Now, I don’t give a fuck. If you don’t like me, faults and all, then you can fuck off.
Nathan’s addiction, or as some people call it ‘perversion’ is voyeurism. He gets off on watching people perform sexual acts. It doesn’t have to be sex itself, just some type of sexual behavior. I’ve caught him many times, jacking off in his apartment with one hand, while holding a pair of high-powered binoculars with the other. There’s one particular apartment across from his he likes to watch, but unfortunately for him, the woman is rarely home, so he’s forced to watch others, or get his kicks in other ways.
Tegan’s weakness is exhibitionism, preferring others to watch him. He can be alone or with a partner, as long as someone’s there to witness it, whether the person be male or female. The times that he can’t find a live person to watch, he has a webcam that he uses with exhibitionist groups online. He and Nathan have shared multiple partners before. It works out perfectly for them, because Tegan gets the satisfaction of Nathan watching, and Nathan gets off watching Tegan and the woman. From what Ava has said, she thinks Nathan and Tegan may have even had sex with each other before, during one of their threesomes. I haven’t asked. It doesn’t matter to me, and if they wanted me to know, they would have told me.
Ava’s story is a bit different. Although her and I met under much different circumstances, I found out quickly that her thing was role-playing. She likes being in situations that aren’t traditional, such as playing the victim, being dominated, playing doctor, or boss-employee shit. Anything that’s not your typical sexual experience.
Because of our “disorders,” none of us form attachments to the people we have sex with. The only reason we have with each other is because we all share some form of fucked-up need.
Me and Ava walk over to the booth that Nathan and Tegan are sitting in. I slide in beside Nathan, as Ava takes a seat next to Tegan. Nathan drapes his arm around the back of the booth over my shoulders. I look over at Tegan and grin, seeing the Aviators he’s never without, resting on the top of his head.
“Hey, Abs. How did last night go?” Nathan asks, looking down at me.
Before I get a chance to answer, a waitress I’ve never seen here before, walks up and takes mine and Ava’s drink order, giving both Nathan and Tegan a once-over. Tegan gives her a flirty grin, then watches her ass sway as she walks away.
“It was good. Close call, but I finally found someone,” I assure him.
I texted Nathan last nig
ht, letting him know I would probably need him. They all know what I go through if I don’t meet my sex quota. There’s been several times I’ve had to call on Nathan and Tegan to help me out. They always come through for me, not wanting me to suffer. A couple times, I’ve had them both at the same time, but I prefer Nathan since he’s more my type. His body is stacked with muscles, he has several tattoos, and he sports a very sexy beard and mustache, just long enough to feel good against your skin. He’s quiet and watchful, sometimes appearing creepy to others, but will kick anyone’s ass that messes with his family and friends. Tegan is the friendly, fun-loving guy that can be loud and obnoxious. I love him, but sometimes, he can be a bit too much.
Fortunately for me, they’re both capable of having sex in ways other than their normal addictions. Ava, on the other hand, can’t or won’t, I’m not sure which. The few times we’ve been involved with the same guy, we did role-play. The last time it was a wife, played by Ava, who caught her husband, a doctor, having sex with one of his nurses, played by me. It was weird in the beginning, but I soon forgot about any awkwardness when the guy started eating me out.
Some people may find our arrangement absurd, but it works for us. We’re all happy with the way things are. We’re there for each other in tough situations, because we all know the consequences if our needs aren’t met.
“Good,” Nathan murmurs beside me, before leaning down and kissing the top of my head.
The waitress brings our drinks and takes our lunch order. My lips twitch as I watch Tegan flirt with her. The guy could charm the panties off a nun.
“What are you doing later tonight, sweetheart?” Tegan uses his sexy voice, which never fails to work on females. He trails a finger up the outside of the waitress’s leg. Her eyes glaze over, and I have no doubt that if he were to reach beneath her skirt, he’d find her wet. I witness this shit all the time, and it amazes me how easy it is for him to pick up girls.
Lisa—according to her name tag—gives him a sultry look and replies, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what I’m doing tonight? I get off at nine.”
When Ava snickers beside Tegan, the waitress looks over and gives her a dirty look. I kick Ava’s foot from under the table when she opens her mouth to tell the waitress to fuck off. We certainly don’t need Ava’s big mouth getting us kicked out of here. Although, I kind of want to slap the bitch myself. I may be a hard-ass, but Ava is ten times worse.
Either Tegan doesn’t sense the firecracker that is barely holding onto her leash sitting beside him, or he doesn’t care. He just continues with his pursuit of Lisa.
“How about I pick you up and take you to Blackie’s? Ever heard of the place?”
I have to force back my laugh when Lisa’s eyes widen. Blackie’s isn’t your normal hangout spot. With the stuff that goes on there, the place would be shut down if the owner, Mr. Black, didn’t have half the town in his back pocket. We’ve been going there for five years, and have done some pretty kinky shit there. There have been plenty of times I’ve been desperate for my fix, even taking guys in the back corner. If you go there, you know to keep your trap shut about the stuff you see. If you talk, your ass is booted and put on a blacklist. What happens at Blackie’s, stays at Blackie’s. And not just anyone can get in. You have to know someone in good standing with the club.
“Oh, wow!” Lisa breathes, swooning at the invite to the exclusive club. “You go to Blackie’s?”
