That I'm a S** Addict. It's shocking, if you knew me for the generic, ordinary person I am, but I am crazy about s**.
I first had s** when I was 14 with a high school senior and have been constantly having s** and masturbating since. Although I didn't o***** then, I have been masturbating long before the incident and started touching myself all the time, thinking of it. I wanted it so bad, that I looked forward to being around guys when they're drunk. That way they would be easier to seduce and usually can't remember everything that happened. We can pretend that it never happened, at most times. I hate it, I find myself disgusting but I can't help it.
My bedroom drawers and cupboards all have locks and there's always some kind of p*** magazine or s** toy there. I wake up in the middle of the night feeling h**** that at times, I'd go around to pubs to meet some drunk and have s** with him. S** typically lasts 10 minutes and then I'm back at home, masturbating with my vibrator and d****.
I can't date because I'm afraid people will find me disgusting with all my fantasies, the number of people I've had s** with is too high for a person my age. I never socialise much at work and I don't have many friends. My parents think that I'm shy and try to set me up with guys but little do they know that all I want to do is to rip his pants off and ride his c*** until I'm sated. Which feels like impossible.
I went to S** Addicts Anonymous and it helped for a couple of months. I ran nearly 8 miles a day to wear myself out, spent hours in the gym doing yoga, Pilates and whatever new exercise fad they had. I threw away all my p*** magazines, locked the s** toys in a box and limited masturbation to once a day. It gets me frustrated and I started drinking heavily whenever I was not masturbating, it was awful. I ended up deciding that waking up with guilty was better than waking up with a hangover, sore and headaches. I started masturbating too much again, taking breaks frequently with my Blackberry, letting it vibrate against my c*** as I get finger myself to c** in the office bathroom. I keep perfumes and spare undies because at times I think people detect the smell of s**, though I can never be sure. I smell like s** all the time.
I still go to the gym whenever I feel like I have the tremendous urge to go out and hook up with someone. I try not to think of my yoga instructor, a very f******* guy, though he's gay. I stopped taking classes since I tend to fantasise and instead spend hours on treadmills, elliptical, bicycles and weights, alone. I have the urge to do something crazy, like run down the streets naked, show off my true, dirty, filthy self to the world. Let the world hate me for what I am than love me for what I'm not.
S** addiction sucks. Pun unintended.