You'd better believe I am trying to beat this..

The sharp and monotone sound of the alarm clock cut through his dreamless sleep. Sebastian opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. It was seamless and eggshell white, like most of the walls in his bedroom. He rolled his head to the left. The sheets and pillow had been slept on but that was now thankfully the only proof that someone had been there before; just the way he liked it. He shifted under cotton sheets and propped up on his elbows. The normally organized room was an unruly mess; torn pieces of clothing, empty bottles and ice coffee cans. He scratched his forehead, threw the blankets off and got up. His entire body was stiff and his lower back stung painfully when he stretched.

Kicking aside one of the empty cans, he crossed the dark room and opened the curtains. The light of dawn shone through the ceiling high windows and forced him to squint. A light drizzle poured down and made the streets and cars way down below shimmer. It hurt his tired eyes. He turned to look over his shoulder and the scent of alcohol that had soaked into the dark wooden floor panels drifted his way. He crinkled his nose and made a mental note not to use the services of a call center he had dug up out of the yellow pages anymore.

He turned on his feet and crossed the room again, this time to the en suite bathroom. He switched the light on, glad to find this space was left untarnished. He opened the faucets of the shower and while waiting for the water to turn to the right temperature, he looked at his glorious reflection in the mirror. His lean body with long, toned muscles and his skin like marble. His eyes traveled lower and he could not hold back the pleased sigh when looking at his flaccid dick. It would not stay like that for long.

The water was hot and beat mercilessly on his body. He lathered himself thoroughly, rinsed and repeated the routine religiously to remove any remaining evidence of his reckless decision. He tilted his head and let the water and soap wash away everything that had happened last night. It had been so unimpressive his mind had automatically turned it into unhinged figments that could as well have been memories of a nightmare. In good time, he would forget about it completely.

With his hand flat against the massive dark gray tiles, he leaned into the wall and watched water and dots of foam disappear through the drain near his feet. He reached down and groaned when his fingers curled around his shaft. With his thumb and pointer finger forming a hot and slippery circle, he rocked into his hand with slow movements and he continued doing this until he was hard. Absentmindedly, he pumped at his erection, feeling that addictive tinkling sensation rise in his body. Over the years it had become such a self-regulated ritual that there had been times he hardly noticed or felt that he was doing it. Steam was rapidly filling up the bathroom, drawing up a thick curtain of water vapor that hid the scene from wandering eyes; stifled guttural growls a hint of what might be going on.

He turned the faucets off and just stood there. Water trickled from his raven tresses, fell down and collided with the tiles in that distinguished dripping sound. He now placed both of his palms flat against the tiles and breathed in and out slowly. The glorious feeling he used to experience while he pleasured himself had long gone and everything had become common to him. It was now mundane and highly unfulfilling and more a force of habit than a way to seek gratification.

Somewhere in the apartment a door opened and closed and the voice of his housekeeper singing dragged him back to this reality. He inhaled deep, stepped out of the shower and pulled a clean towel off the rack. He glanced in the tall mirror while he dried himself off. The euphoric feeling from before had completely vanished, and it was replaced by disgust towards himself. Not bothering to towel dry his hair properly, he tossed the towel to a corner and headed back towards his bedroom to get dressed. Grooming himself would have to wait.

He slipped into a pair of gray sweatpants, a white hoodie, socks and sneakers. He dug up his earphone and phone from the suit jacket he had been wearing last night and walked out, leaving the pungent scent of failed sex behind as he closed the door. By the time he would come home later tonight Angelina would've taken care of that for him.

He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and leaned against the frame in a nonchalant manner. Angelina, the woman who was supposed to be his housekeeper but seemed more like an uninvited roommate, stood bent over with her head in the fridge. For a moment, Sebastian's eyes were glued to the finely shaped bottom. Two perfectly round buns snugly confined in white shorts and bobbing along to an inaudible rhythm. He shook his head and told himself firmly that you shouldn't mix pleasure with business. Crossing his arms over his chest, he cleared his throat to raise awareness to his presence. With a cold piece of chicken between her teeth, the woman looked over her shoulder and raised a hand at him in a mute greeting.

"I thought we talked about this?" Sebastian said as he observed her shrewdly.

The red head tore her attention away from the food, turned her back on it and took the chicken leg that was clenched between her teeth. "I know, don't leave the fridge open for too long," she commented with a saucy wink. "Can I offer you anything?" She gestured the contents.

Sebastian squinted, leaped forward and stood in front of her with four vast steps. He towered over her and studied her thoughtfully. In his close presence, he could feel her confidence slip and he heard her swallow audibly. It amused him immensely and he shook his head with a wide smirk.

"No," he leaned down and noticed how she tensed up and gulped when his hand brushed past her bare shoulder while he reached into the fridge to grab a carton of orange juice. "I'll get it," he whispered, his lips so close to her ear that they made contact with her pale skin. She shuddered in anticipation, and he could almost smell her excitement. Pleased with the visible effect he had on her, he leaned back and put the carton against his lips and drank it down in large gulps.

"They're called glasses," Angelina pointed to the row of cupboards to their left. "We commoners us them so we don't have to drink straight from the carton."

Sebastian chortled low at her recovered sass and aimed for the trashcan. The empty carton landed with a graceful curve. "My bedroom is a mess. Spilled some liquid and I think it soaked into the wood overnight."

"Well that is no-brainer if you don't bother to clean it up," she made an irritated hand gesture. "I just bought paper towels. You could've easily cleaned that up."

"And put you out of a job? I wouldn't dream of it." Sebastian pushed his earplugs in his ears and scrolled through the music library on his phone. "If I did my own cleaning who would eat my left-overs? Although," he teasingly patted on her hip. "You might want to cut down on the chicken skin. A minute on the lips…"

She swatted his hand away and starting yelling at him. Her rant fell on deaf ears, tuned out by the music Sebastian had turned on. He gestured to his ears to let her know he didn't hear a word of what she was saying. This turned her already flustered cheeks an even deeper shade of red and triggered another fierce rant. She went completely mute when he caressed her hair and smiled. Mercilessly surrendered to his impeccable looks and perfectly timed charisma, she forgot about his teasing insult and just stood there with a sheepish grin and watched him walk out.

The building was still quiet at this early hour. Tapping his foot to the rhythm of his the music, Sebastian waited patiently for the elevator to climb up to the twentieth floor while making an extensive study of his black all stars. The soft ping slipped his attention, so did the doors that opened soundlessly. A harsh clear of the throat forced him to look up at the only occupant of the small cubicle. He felt a strong pull inside his body.

Sparkling blue eyes stared at him through blonde bangs. They were the color of ice and they seemed to be very much intrigued by the object in the hallway. Shapely lips curled into an approving smile as he looked Sebastian up and down. He clasped his hands on his back and stepped out of the elevator. Now they were only a foot apart.

"Good morning," he purred.

"Good morning," Sebastian smiled more than politely and stepped aside to let the blonde pass. The boy, probably not much older than twenty, took his leisure time to step around him and turned on his heels the same time Sebastian got into the elevator.

"Say," his hand shot forward and stopped the doors from closing. "I am new in this building," he leaned in so that Sebastian could see way down his oversized sweater. He had never been more grateful to whoever was in charge of the light in the hallway because he could see every perfect indentation of the blonde's lean body. "Maybe you could show me around?" The boy finished with a subtle wink.

"There isn't very much to see," Sebastian told him truthfully and shrugged in a casual manner. The blonde was hardly disconcerted by the comment and peered up at him from below.

"I think there is plenty to see," he replied with a small and cheeky smile that left nothing to the imagination. After, he stepped back, removed his hand and both men watched the doors close. Just before they did, Sebastian heard the gleeful voice chime a number. He shook head with a low chuckle and sternly told himself not to listen to the heavy twitching in his sweatpants.

The streets of London were busy and buzzing with the usual sounds. Traffic rushed by and people pushed their way through to crowd to get to whatever job they were holding. Sebastian pulled the hood of his sweater all the way down to conceal as much of his face as possible. Where he was going today, nobody needed to recognize him.

To avoid running into someone from the office, he ran into the opposite direction first, removing himself away from the Barbican by taking the London wall and turning right on Gracechurch. Taking Queens Victoria street he arrived at his destination without having a run in with someone he knew. St Paul's cathedral quietly basked in the first sunbeams that fought their way through the thick clouds. He stopped in the middle of the square, pulled a cigarette from a tiny tin box and placed it loosely between his lips. The clicks of the Zippo lighter seemed to echo around the empty square. He winched at it and quickly looked around to see if nobody was watching him. He was safe and chuckled mirthlessly at his own anxiety. If he's so ashamed of coming here, why did he insist on coming back?

He took a long toke from his Lucky Strike and blew out the tobacco in a weary exhale. Behind him he heard the massive clock of the Big Ben strike eight. He expertly flicked the burning stick away and made his way to the back of the church. The venue was around the other side and he jogged up the steps with his hands in his pockets. He reached for the door, breathed in and forced himself to open it. His objections with the entire ordeal were just as rational as they had been last week. So was his reluctance to enter. He had hoped that this week it would be as little less hard. It wasn't; it was even harder if possible.

He entered the warm hallway and only now did he feel comfortable enough to take off his hood. He followed the narrow corridor to the backroom. The door was ajar, it hadn't started yet. He could still make a run for it and grab a quick cup of coffee before heading towards the office. He shook his head firmly and told himself to suck it up and opened the door. Several heads turned up and towards the person in the doorway. Sebastian gazed around the circle with a brooding expression on his handsome face. He had never felt more out of place while he perfectly knew he was well in place amongst the dubious scum. He nodded without a word and sunk into an empty chair that was near the door. Crouching, he hoped the attention was averted from his normally tall figure and directed to one of the other shady figures in the room.

The seat next to him was filled by a perky red head with eyes so bright that they seemed inhuman. He seemed to make an extensive study of Sebastian's profile over the rim of his equally red glasses. After a while, he leaned in and held his hand in front of his mouth to keeps the others from overhearing. Sebastian wished he had excluded him as well.

"Almost looks like there is a rule against looking handsome here. I was more than glad when you walked in."

Sebastian cocked his head and squinted. The male was hardly ugly but his flamboyant sense of style was an instant turnoff to say the least. He produced a smile to reward him for his clever remark and continued staring straight ahead. The male seemed persistent to get some more of his attention and pulled his chair up to him.

"I suggest that at the next ugly one that walks through the door, we bolt."

It was a tempting thought to leave the room and Sebastian was about to take him up on that offer when the door closed and the conversation died down. Sebastian cocked his head and took in the profile of their counselor. The bubbly blonde spared them the mandatory well-meant smile while she nervously clutched the clipboard to her chest. Sebastian's interest was slightly rising.

"Doctor Agni was unfortunately not able to make todays' session. I am his assistant, Elizabeth Midford, but you may call me Lizzie," she threw an anxious look around the room and fabricated another artificial smile. "I am not entirely sure where you left off last week," she swallowed and scratched her forehead with an awkward chuckle. "I am terribly sorry. I am still not used to lead session on my own."

"Why don't you start by sitting down," the red head next to Sebastian threw her a pity bone and patted on the empty chair next to him. "Some of us have been coming here for such a long time we could run our own meetings, isn't that right?" He said and winked at no one in particular. An intelligible noise rose from the circle that could hardly pass as a constructive answer. Elizabeth seemed to take it anyway and gratefully took the place that was appointed to her. Her sensible knee-length skirt exposed a little too much of her creamy thighs and she quickly placed the clipboard in her lap to keep wandering eyes at bay.

"I think it would be best if we continue where you left off with the doctor last week," she looked through the papers before gazing up and glancing around the circle. "According to the notes the session had to be cut short during a mister Sutcliff's story. So, I'd like to continue there," she made a hand gesture that the designated mister Sutcliff could proceed.

As Sebastian had feared, the red head next to him opened his mouth and had no intention of closing it until he had told the tragic history of his wild affair with a certain mister S. Sebastian cared for neither and allowed himself to tune out and take a gander around the room. His eyes automatically returned to the stunning blonde and caught her peering at him. She blushed and averted her eyes for a moment. When she found the courage to look him in the eye again he rolled his own to point out how bored he was with the tedious story. She tried to give him a stern look but he saw a small smile bubbling up in the corner of her mouth.

"And that is how I got my addiction and ended up here," the red head gestured towards the circle and tossed his left leg over his right one in an swanky manner. Elizabeth cleared her throat and said what all the others were probably thinking.

"That was a very… illustrious story. I think it is my duty to point out that it is not required to explain everything in such an… extravagant manner, yes," she nodded satisfied with her diplomatic choice of words and dropped her eyes to the board again. "I see that we have a new member since last week, a mister Michaelis," she looked up and around the circle. Sebastian hardly felt compelled to tell her he was the certain Michaelis figure but knowing he would have to do it eventually, he just raised his hand to get it over with. She looked over and her emerald eyes were kind as she addressed him. "Would you please introduce yourself to the group mister Michaelis and tell us the reason why you're here?"

Sebastian arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms in a defensive manner. "I think it's quite obvious why I'm here. It's the same reason any of us is here."

"Acknowledging it out loud is the first step to redemption," Elizabeth told him solemnly.

Redemption. Sebastian pondered on the word and the way it had sounded coming out of the blonde's mouth. He could show her all kinds of redemption that had nothing to do with atoning to whatever mistake society thinks they committed. He shifted in his seat and pulled at his sweats. The group remained silent and all eyes were on him. He glanced at Elizabeth again and she smiled encouraging. "Go on," she said in her supportive manner. Another long exhale and he reclined against the back of his plastic chair.

"My name is Sebastian Michaelis and I am a sex addict."

After the meeting Sebastian bolted as soon as he saw his chance without having to run into mister Sutcliff. The red head had breathlessly hung on his every word and had expressed such undeserved sympathy that it had set off alarm bells. There was no sense in fucking someone on the inside. Firstly, it was prohibited and would lead to instant dismissal. Sebastian saw no point in looking for another group. Secondly, if he were to risk his place, he would prefer the exhilarating blonde over the flamboyant red head.

With his hood drawn over his crimson eyes he jogged up Victoria again, taking the same precautions he did coming over. He passed his apartment and ran straight through the financial district to work. Outside the tall glass building, with 'MICHAELIS HOUSE OF PUBLISHING' written over the glass front doors, he stopped and stretched his muscles. Taking two steps at the time, he runs up the six steps and headed to the double doors. They slid open without a sound. The temperature inside the big lobby was pleasantly refreshing. He passed the impressive wooden desk and waved at the mauve haired receptionist. She absentmindedly raised a hand without losing focus on the phone conversation she was having in fluent French.

The elevator whisked him to the top floor, his ride accompanied by relaxing elevator music. The doors slid open en he stepped into another lobby and turned right. Passing a glass wall, he jerked his head at the male who jolted up and called his name the minute he saw him enter. Not bothering to stop, he let the male tail after him. He winked at his assistant and entered his office, instantly heading towards his private bathroom. He closed that door and chortled at the irritated groan of his follower.

"I'll be quick, William," he lied.

"No you won't. Where have you been?"

Sebastian shed himself of his sweaty clothes and opened the faucets. The water was a welcome distraction and erased the callous feeling of the sex addict anonymous meeting. "I had an early appointment."

He knew that William was now pushing his already snug glasses further up the bridge of his nose in that distinguished passive aggressive manner of his. He could hear vexation is his tone as he continued from outside the bathroom.

"There was no early appointment in your agenda," he pointed out.

"It was personal," Sebastian looked down and barely resisted the urge to jerk himself off while mentally undressing Elizabeth. He managed to be firm with himself, straightened his shoulders and turned off the water. Drying himself off, he looked in the mirror and was once again pleased with his reflection. In a spare closet on his right he went through his suits and picked a light gray one. He groomed himself, brushed his teeth and walked out. There was only a foot between him and William and the brunette had to tilt his head in his neck to look his boss in the eye. He did, without fear.

"I need to know about these things, Sebastian," he lectured before moving on to more important matters. "You have a guest class at the university. If you leave now, you'll be just in time."

"Damn. Was that today?" Sebastian dragged a hand through his hair and walked by him to a tiny tea trolley on the other end of the room. He poured himself a cup of black tea and offered William one as well. He shook his head; Sebastian ignored it and asked him if he wanted milk and sugar.

"I do not want your blasted tea. I want you to march yourself to the university and act representable. If we all danced to your personal appointments and tea times this company will be bankrupted within hours!"

"Alright, alright," Sebastian made a soothing hand gesture and put his cup down. "No need to rant yourself into a heart attack over some lecture. Is it Queen Mary up at Mile End road? That is approximately three miles away. I'd be there in a jiffy."

"Well than jiffy yourself to that damned university as soon as possible. I think I ran out of excuses to explain your regular tardiness."

Sebastian picked his frockcoat off the hatstand next to the door and slipped it on in one fluent movement. He adjusted his collar and turned to William. "It's called fashionably late, William, and it is expected of a man in my position," he teased with a wink and closed the door on William and his inevitable ranting.

A short intro. I very much hope you enjoyed reading it though. Please do not mind grammar errors yet, I know they are indubitably there and I am working hard to improve. A review would be very much appreciated.

Thank you for reading.