Addiction: A short story by Shubricca L Bell. (Part 1)

So, ⚠️‼️ If you have an issue with erotica, then this is NOT, the short story for you! It’s some stuff in here that gets a little hot, and if you’re the type of person who gets their panties in a bunch when it comes to Christian authors who write about things “not so clean” then please exit stage left. I’m just warning ya! I have stated from the beginning I AM NOT, the Christian who is going to portray a sin free life, or pretend that I’m perfect in any way. That’s not how you lead people to Christ. You lead them by showing that you don’t have to have it all together.

You can go to God as you are, because He can only use the real you! After all He knew us before we were formed in our mother’s womb, and He’s the one who gave us certain gifts to use, and although my methods aren’t traditional, I know that they’re effective, because God stays at the heart of what I do. If you feel like talking about sex or reading about it will cause you to sin, then don’t read this. I’m not trying to cause you to sin, I’m actually trying to cause you to be delivered, if you can read between the lines! Anyway, with that being said, if you’re not closed minded, read the story.

This is only part one, but I can guarantee you that by the end, you will not be disappointed. So, stay tuned for the parts of the story to come… Now, without further ado, I present to you, part one of my short story, “Addiction.” Enjoy! 😉

“So many emotions are going through my head. You can literally give a dude the best of you, and be everything he needs and he’ll still chase the woman who don’t give two cents about him. I’m just tired, doc. I’m tired of trying to wrap my head around the situation mentally. I’m emotionally broken. 

I am physically drained. I can’t sleep at night. I don’t have an appetite during the day. I have mood swings. I am angry, confused, hurt, and…” before I could get the rest of my sentence out, my therapist said, “Horney?”

“Wait, what?” I said. I knew what she said, but I needed her to say it again, just to confirm I wasn’t crazy. “She picked up her cup of tea and sipped it before saying, “I asked you, if you’re horney?” she said. “Doc, don’t you think you’re getting a little too personal?” I asked. “Caresha, you pay me to be in your business,” my therapist said.

“You’re right about that,” I said. I was on the edge of my chair, but then I sat back and thought about it. She was right. I was having all of these mood swings and episodes of insomnia because I needed some d in my life. Maybe I was seeing the wrong type of therapist.

Maybe I needed a sex therapist because I did have an addiction, and that’s what got me in this whole messed up situation in the first place. Don’t get it twisted, I’m not some sex crazed maniac that’s out here busting it open for every Tom, Dick, and Harry. I was in a unconfirmed relationship with this guy, Jamison, my addiction. You can call it a situationship, open relationship, friends with benefits, entanglement, whatever you choose, but truth is, these types of situations requires more investment than a monogamous relationship and the pay off is never what you expect it to be. My session had ended and I was scheduled to come back next week, same day and time to explore why I was allowing a lack of d to interrupt my life in such a negative way.

Knowing my therapist, she was going to probe deep until she made me confront some kind of childhood trauma I’ve probably suppressed. Truth is, I didn’t have any childhood traumas. Not that I could remember. Anyway, for now, I took a trip to the local adult toy store. I hadn’t been in one of these stores for ten plus years.

I didn’t need to. Jamison was literally a sex god, and I’m not ashamed to say that, I worshiped him. It pisses me off every time I think about him making love to another woman. Sucking her toes while giving her slow deep strokes. Looking into her eyes as his head travel from between her legs to her navel, then her breast, her neck, and quickly turning her over and giving her long deep strokes from behind.

I was thinking about all of this as I slow stroked my pearl in the shower. The vibrating tongue gave fast deep thrusts. It didn’t disappoint. I came hard, but immediately after, I was pissed off. I couldn’t believe this dude really stopped messing with me.

I wanted to throw that damn vibrator, but it cost me almost two hundred dollars, so I put it in my night stand drawer for now. I thought that one day Jamison and I would be in a real relationship and maybe even get married. We talked about it, we just never talked about us getting married, or taking the next step in whatever it was we shared. Something kept telling me that I was giving too much of myself away to this dude, but you don’t understand the sparks that fly when we hold hands, or how nothing in this world matters when we kiss, or how my body creams just from him looking me in my eyes.

It was beyond physical for me. He would make me breakfast and we’d take walks in the park. I’d take him lunch on his job. We went dancing together. We took trips together, out of the country for crying out loud!

We did relationship things but there was never a confirmation of us being in a relationship. After ten years, I thought what was understood didn’t have to be explained, but somehow there was some confusion about what we were on at least one of our ends, and I still can’t get over how he got me messed up if he thinks I’m going to give him the best years of my life, and he’s going to run off into the sunset with this new chick, and give her everything he didn’t give me, like a commitment. I’ll be damned. He came into my life over ten years ago and destroyed my previous relationship by making me fall in love with him, and I’m going to return the favor. Yeah, yeah, call me bitter if you want to.

I don’t care. He’s going to be mine, or he’s going to be nobodies… period. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s