Addict
Part 2- TRIGGER
R-M - very mature content
Surprise! Chapter 2 is ready for you… I can't promise they will be updated every day, because I am editing on my free time. But enjoy, please, and let me know what you think …
I sat a while outside getting good photographs of the sand crabs. I'm not a big fan of sand crabs, they are sort of a nuisance, because they blend to heavily into the sand and the moment you get close enough, they disappear. I'm sitting here planted on the sand, laid out like a sniper, camera pointed at a busy sand crab area, waiting to get a good shot.
I remained so focused. I literally, didn't blink, no matter how my eyes were burning. Still, and none-blinking, just aiming and waiting, and waiting and aiming. These little bastards, must know I'm watching. "You've got it all wrong." Her voice sounded like a song, I'd replayed over and over since she introduced herself to me.
I turned slightly, "What is wrong with what I'm doing?" I asked myself, and she, popped up out of nowhere and asked answered.
"They know you're watching. You're far too focused. Be normal."
"Normal. As in what?" We are about to pretend she didn't watch me, watch her, while I fucked another woman.
"Just like, act like you would any other time. Go for a swim."
"I have a camera."
"I know, you ass." She surprised me, with that. But she laughed directly after. "Put your camera down. Turn it on, aim it at the crab hole, go jump in the water, and after a few minutes get out, come back and press the picture button. Or set it up on an automatic timer, and allow it to do a few sets while you swim. Sure, it may not capture what you want right away, but your likely to get some a couple decent shots."
I'm still looking through my lens as she speaks, as a true, socially awkward idiot would do. I have this thing, where I'm confident with women, but I just don't have that emotional skill set that allows me to connect to them on a socially inviting level, unless it's for sex. She stands behind me, and then I lay still, unsure what to do next, as I aim at the crabs. And like a truly, unreachable, camera geek, I'm still focused on the lens.
"Well, just a thought. Have a good morning." I felt her walk away, and it wasn't what I wanted. So, without thinking I called out to her.
"Where's Enzo?"
"What?" I could hear her feet stop and I turned around and sat up.
"Your dog?"
"Oh... I thought you meant my ex. I told you my dogs name?"
"Yesterday. Why, is he named after your boyfriend?"
"My ex?"
"Sorry your ex. Who names a dog after their ex?"
"A person, who takes stupid advice from the therapist." She smiled, but looked embarrassed.
"Therapist?"
"Oh, hmmm. I don't usually open with that. Then people find me bizarre. Whatever. Yes, I have a therapist, and yes, he suggested I name my dog after my ex. So, I could find peace." She shook her head, again, seemingly ashamed, and I wanted to hug her right now. I'm not the only one who's therapist gives them stupid advice, and then stupidly takes it.
"Don't feel bad. I recently took stupid advice from a therapist."
"Aww. Now I don't feel so, socially awkward. She allowed her fingers to be engulfed by her large sweater sleeves." God, who is this woman? I'm still sitting here, truly stunned, but socially awkward enough with intimidation that I just remain silent. "So, what advice were you given?"
"Eh. It's really embarrassing." She was being blocked by the sun behind her, all I saw was silhouette. She sat down, and my eyes went straight for her forehead.
"Tell me. I love embarrassing emissions."
"Seriously. You're inhumane." I told her, causing her to p giggle, and it made me loosen up a bit.
"I just told you I named my dog after my ex, to give me closure."
"Fine. She told me, to call back to a woman that I had hung out with several times, and initiate what would be the next hangout."
"And did you?"
"I did."
"So, what happened?"
"Well, do you remember the woman from the other day?"
"Tell me it wasn't her."
"It was."
"Well, from the looks of it, " as she spoke, she looked me in the eye, making me nervous enough to look away. "that advice seemed to have gone well." If I wasn't embarrassed before, that really embarrassed me. I quickly remember what happened the day before. She'd seen me fuck this woman twice, in my window. The second time I watched her naked body, while I, fucked another woman- I can't sit here and torture myself, while I picture her naked again. There's an uncontrollable hellfire happening in my shorts again, and this woman gives me the type of erections, that ache. She waits for my response. "Did I make that awkward? I'm sorry. It's just you two seem very spontaneously sexual, and combative. I just assumed, it was some kink of yours." She said it, like she was hopeful about it.
"You know, you're really fucking blunt." I verbally charged her.
"Sorry. My therapist says I have a highly Increased Broad Affect. Which means I'm able to express myself, verbally, emotionally, and mentally, but at a higher level than the average person. In other words, I have no issues, expressing myself."
"Well, we are polar opposites in that way."
"There's actually a name for it. Depends on how severe it is."
"Its good to know. Well, I actually, don't have a problem saying what's on my mind, it just lacks the proper emotions, I guess. It comes out flat, as if I'm disinterested most of the time." She laughed at me. I couldn't be angry, because it's who I am.
"It doesn't come off as you're disinterested. I'm sure you're just, actually, disinterested." She laughed.
"It takes a lot to gain my interest or impress me, I suppose." I watch as her sweater falls off her shoulders. She's not wearing a bra.
"You're an interesting character."
"I'm really not." I can keep my eyes off her skin.
"You actually are." She smiled and glanced past me, onto the sand crabs hole. "If you continue to talk to me, while moving your hand slightly. You can click your button and get a picture of several really sneaky crabs."
"I have the camera remote. If I hand into you. Can you snap a couple pictures, so I don't have to move?"
"Okay. Sure." I notice her wearing reading glasses again. I still stare above them and hand her the remote. She stares intently for a few seconds at the crabs, then snaps a few pictures. "I really think I got at least two good ones."
"Thanks."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Why, do you keep staring at my forehead?" My face went blank. "Sorry. Just wondering if I had a zit or something."
"No. I just don't like looking people in the eyes."
"Wow, you have some vulnerability problems, don't you?" She then sat up, and crawled towards me, and took her glasses off. She looked at me in the eyes, and I kept staring at her forehead. "Come on. Look at me." She shook my face gently while it rests between her two, soft hands, which held my cheeks, pulling my face closer to hers. Fuck. She has no sense for personal space. But, somehow, I don't care. The excitement I get smelling her, and being his close to her... is unbearable. She has no idea what she's doing to me. From the outside, I may seem disinterested. But it's because I'm covering up, how much, touching her excites me. And how much feeling her, makes me want to rip her clothes off, and swallow her body with mine. Then she said it. My name. While she held my face, she spoke it clear as day. "Damon, look me in the eyes."
She called me by my name. She remembered my name. I looked into her eyes and it was probably the purest thing I'd ever seen. Green, like Forrest, and earthy. I'm staring her straight in the eyes, and suddenly, I relax. She bites her lip and smiles. But her teeth are still, holding her bottom lip. I like the way she bites her lips. And all I can do is stare at every corner of her face, while she bites her lip, imagining I'm inside of her, and she's taking all of me.
But as bad as I want her, I'm also afraid of her.
"Why are you doing this?" I ask impatiently. It came out wrong, but that's the lack of emotion I contribute to my interactions with women. I don't mean to. I actually love her touching me, but somehow, I'm an empathetic asshole.
She stopped smiling. "I don't know." She let go of my face, and stood up. "So, I'm going to go back now. Just came to say hi." She started to walk off, just like that. She's almost as socially awkward as I am. She left, like we weren't in the middle of having a conversation, and I stopped her. How dare she walk away from me?
"Where is Enzo?"
"The house. He didn't feel like fetch." She continued to walk away from me, and I let her. After she disappeared, I jumped up and went into my house. I needed a cold shower and to make this erection go away now. I'm so hard, and all I want to do, is make it disappear. When I turned on the cold water, I jumped my body inside and stood there for minutes hoping it would go down. It didn't. I wrapped my hand around my dick, and stroked it several times, hoping to feel anything sensational. But my hand just doesn't do it for me. I tried this for a few minutes. This is a nightmare. What is happening to me?
And I'm not calling neurotic bridal magazine girl. I'm just going to have to suck it up, until it goes down.
Bonnie ruined my fucking Sunday.
...
Tuesday - Therapy Session
...
"Did the past couple of weeks prove to work for you, as far as communicating better?"
"Is that what this was about? You set me up, with that scenario of asking her to hang out again... for what?"
"Damon its very healthy you express yourself. You either liked her or you didn't. The goal wasn't to make you like her, it was for you to understand yourself better. If in the process, it helped your connection with her then it did. But if it didn't, it didn't. But you'd be able to be more honest about it."
"She really went crazy."
"Well, it's important to know your actions have consequences. And people have feelings. What you thought you were doing was being interpreted all wrong by her. You shouldn't assume that while you're okay with a certain relationship, the other person is. Vocalize your truths and they will vocalize theirs, many times."
Damon sat there annoyed and discontent. He felt punished for doing what he was told, and it didn't sit well with him. "I took your advice. You walked me into a trap."
"No, I helped you to make an adult observation from another person's view point. Another point of view of a person who is directly involved with the decisions you make."
"She was the least of my problems. I have this new neighbor. She's a bit absurd."
"She?"
"Yeah. But don't take it for anything special. She's just a neighbor." The therapist promoted her notepad and pen and proceeded to write something. "What about what I said, was worth writing?"
"Who said, I'm writing something you said?"
"You started writing the moment I said that, and you proceeded to assume something about the neighbor. I need you to stop doing that. Don't assume I'm interested in her. I'm merely speaking of an experience. I had."
"I apologize, proceed." He allowed his body to relax, so he could finish telling her about Bonnie.
"She's peculiar. We've had two interactions. But I've seen her more than a handful of times. She kind of captures my muse. She seems in good spirits when we interact, but the times I see her alone, she seems internally...withdrawn. I mean, it's hard to say, because she's always alone, but there's something different about her when she's alone. And I feel a connection with her. Different when she's in my face. She's a bit abrasively honest, and blunt."
"Does it bother you, her being abrasively honest and blunt?"
"I don't know. She makes me uncomfortable. But, the woman she is when she's alone, seems a lot like me."
"What is the objective here?"
"I think when I see her alone, I want to approach her. I want to confront her, when she is in her head space, and see what she's about. She seems lonely."
"Sometimes, people need to be in their headspace to clear their minds and become objective."
"Certainly."
"You do this often. You don't like your space being crowded. Right? Sundays are your days, as much as these moments of hers are necessary and reflective, they are probably important that she's alone."
"I know, but that woman, is calling to me. That woman, she is when she's crying. That woman, she is when she's thinking. I want to take a picture of that woman. She is my muse. She's been haunting me for two weeks. Also, she's runs out to the water at night naked."
"So, this is sexual for you? A conquest. I urge you Damon, to really think about what your sexual, disconnect may mean for someone, who is reaching out, or in need of a real connection."
"This isn't about sex."
"I don't believe you're even sure about that."
"Doc?"
"Tell me this, have you had a sexual thought about her?"
"That's unfair. You know my issue with sex. I can't help it."
"Damon, you're a good person. But, as your doctor, I have an opportunity to be subjective, but professionally I have to remain objective. You are learning, to understand your sexual urges better. You're learning, how to better address your strong sexual desires. Interacting with a woman, whom you have sexualized, and objectified in your mind as this new unattained-"
"Im going to stop you right there, Doc. This isn't a conquest. For two weeks, I think about this woman. This has never happened to me before. She has, given me erections that won't go down. And even trying to have sexual relations with another, woman, didn't work. I need to know this woman. She haunts my mind."
"What about getting to know her? Finding maybe, you are genuinely interested in who she is."
"And what about these fucking erections?"
"Buy yourself a sex toy. Go to a sex shop, buy an artificial vagina." Damon quickly made a face of disgust. "Don't make that face. You'd be surprised."
"Masturbation, doesn't work for me, which is why I have the issues with sex I have."
"I'm asking you to try it. From a mature point of view, protecting this vulnerability you have, with your brand-new relationship to this new person in your life."
"It's not a relationship."
"You've interacted. She's imprinted on your brain, to a point she effects your decisions. It's a relationship. No matter how you perceive it. You need this vulnerability, this is where, you find growth. I would like to see you work on this relationship. Not romantically, necessarily. The conversations you've had, please engage in understanding and listening to her. Hear what she's saying. Typically, people who speak freely, have a need to be heard, and aren't being heard."
"But, Doc, the last time we spoke, I may have made her uncomfortable."
"Tell me about this incident."
"She made me look her in the eyes, saying I had vulnerability issues. She touched my face, and I didn't like that. Then she shook me. So, I asked why she was doing that? And she became uncomfortable. I'm sure several times I just made her uncomfortable. She was a trooper, she sat with me anyways, until I just... pushed her away."
The doctor wrote down on her notebook again. Damon's jaw ticked, and he sat there shaking his knees and tapping his fingers on his knees. "I'd like to focus on this connection for you. Be it friendship, or more. I want you to explore this, further. Spend time with her. Give extra energy into hearing her, and really listening."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"When you see her outside go talk to her. Knock on her door, and invite her for dinner. And do not address her when she's outside swimming naked. Which I'm guessing is late at night. That night swimming sounds like some form of coping. I'm sure she could easily swim during the day, but she nude swims in the night to avoid people it seems. Don't initiate a sexual encounter, Damon. Initiate, real intimacy. Talking, listening, learning, exploring, friendship."
"This is a joke."
"You feel that way, now. But you will thank me."
...
Wednesday
...
She went skinny dipping again last night, I didn't want to watch her, but I did. And I think she wants me to. I couldn't even tell my therapist in detail, the roller coaster of feelings that goes through me over this woman I've had two conversations with. I don't even know her.
And I watched her. I watched her, stand on the beach, longer than normal when she's naked. She knows, I watch her, or she wouldn't have stayed out there longer. I'm not buying an artificial vagina either. I looked them up online. It's called a pocket pussy. A fucking pocket pussy? It's demeaning, and asinine.
Blue balls.
That's what happened to me for the second time, because of this woman.
I went to the studio today and finished developing my film from Saturday. I found several beautiful shots of her. Some sitting on her porch, and some on the beach laughing, playing frisbee with her dog, with that name I shall not repeat. I let them hang at the studio to dry, and I'll be able to fully see them tomorrow.
I find one of the hardest things about what my therapist said, is that this woman, that I don't know, makes me vulnerable. She's disregarding the purpose I'm trying to create for my life. Which is being at peace with myself. Not everyone needs vulnerability and deeply interpersonal relationships.
A knock at my door knocks me out of my mental purgatory. I'm just hoping for someone to be delivering me a platter of sanity, but when I open the door it's the woman who sucks the life out of me.
Eleanor.
"I think we've had a week to calm down."
"You are truly a piece of work. You need to go home."
"No. I'm not going home." She pushed into my house, and I'm not one to hit a woman, and with the little history we have, we are angry sex. It's not even make up sex. It's just this toxic, sexual dependency. And I'm in a place right now, where I am on full back up, from Bonnie. And this woman, keeps finding her way into my space, when I need a fix. It's like a drug. Sex is a drug for me. She is putting it in my face, and forcing it down my throat. How do I say no? I'm hungry for it. But not from her. I want it from the stranger, who is capturing the parts of me, that I have buried so deeply inside, that I didn't believe they still existed.
"Eleanor."
"Elena!"
"Haha, I'm Kidding... Elena." But I wasn't, I actually forgot. "I need to say something. What we have is unhealthy. I'm at a point in my life, that what we are doing, isn't helping me. I don't want to engage in a sexual relationship with someone, that I cannot develop feelings for. I'm protecting you, because in the end this is going to hurt you. I don't want that."
And there you have it. All this money I pay my therapist is paying off, because those are words I'd never imagined myself saying.
"Fine. I don't want anything but sex, please just, touch me."
I walked away and went into my bedroom. She followed me. I walked out of the hallway on the opposite side of my room, which was a windowed hallway that filtered back into the front side of my living room, and to my liquor cabinet. I am forcing myself to walk away and avoid this psycho. I poured some Bourbon. When I turned around she was naked, and I wasn't prepared mentally for this today. Men get I. Trouble for calling women crazy, but this woman is the definition. "I don't have feelings for you, Elena. Not because you are undeserving, because I'm sure you are. But, you should be with a guy who can give you this, and I can't."
"It's okay."
"This isn't good for my progress. I have a sickness. I have an unhealthy addiction to consensual, platonic sexual engagement." I can't believe I said that out loud.
"Good, then you should be okay with fucking me."
I drink my Bourbon quickly and see out of the corner of my eye, the woman that's mentally trapped me inside of her mystery. She was on the beach, walking in a bathing suit. She glanced into my house, and I know she sees this naked woman in front of me. She sees me, as I see her, and it's almost a game we play. What am I doing? I need to-
"What are you doing?" I ask, while she drops and unfastens my pants. "Don't pull my pants down." I stop her as much as I can, and try to stand her up, but she reached inside and pulled my dick out. My dick's, that hard, because Bonnie's outside in a bikini.
The past two weeks of my life, have been completely unpredictable, and in that, I find it very hard to stop things before they start, because I'm losing control. I always have such good control, and suddenly, it's gone. These two women have been splitting me in half. The struggle with Elena continues, but she won't get up. So, I do the only thing I can to stop her. And honestly, the only reason I'm struggling with Elena, is because I can't have Bonnie. And I want Bonnie. But she is unattainable.
"My neighbor is outside. You should put some clothes on." But those words only fuel her fire. She keeps going. Her mouths on me, and I feel nothing. Bonnie has disappeared, and I'm going to drown myself in Bourbon. "Elena, get up! I told you, that you and I are unhealthy. You should go."
"Mid blowjob? Are you kidding me?" You have no idea how hard it is to stop a woman mid blow job. But, I had to for my sanity. For my protection.
"No. It's not a joke, Elaine. I need you to go." She stood up, and I looked at her body, and this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I'm sending her away.
"Elena! Say it right, asshole. This is so humiliating." She puts her dress back on, and I only feel bad that I can't remember her name.
"I'm sorry. I've told you I don't want to hurt you. Please don't be embarrassed."
SLAP!
That's what I got from her, across the face before she stormed out of my house. She yelled outside at someone, then I heard her car speed off. She left my front door open, and I after I fix my clothes, I walk to the front to close it, and she's in my house.
No, not Bridal magazine girl. Midnight woman. And she's wearing a long cream-colored dress. No bra, I notice right away and when I see her nipples through her dress. It's strapped and backless, and she's looks so peaceful. She looks at me, like she's surprised. I didn't say anything, I stood there. How'd she get dressed so fast?
"Sorry. I was sitting on my front porch." She twiddled her fingers nervously. Why was she nervous? "I love the sunlight, so I thought I'd go for a walk. And for the third time I saw you having sex in your window." She said bluntly. She has a real way of making me feel ashamed of myself, without even trying.
"I wasn't having sex." I borderline snapped.
"Engaging in fellatio. I'm sorry. Anyways, it's hard invading your privacy so much. It's not that I mean to, but... you know what? Never mind. This was stupid. I should go."
"Don't go."
"No, I should. I'm sorry for looking. I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I'm sorry, I pissed your girlfriend off."
"She's not my girlfriend."
"Well, I'm sorry I pissed your friend off. But you should know, that since I've lived next door to you, I've been exposed to things that have made me question myself. And today, for once, I literally feel set-back for the first time in months. Seeing you naked..." she trailed off, looked at my shirtless body, and half buckled pants, and her lips trembled, almost as if she was going to cry, or hurl... I couldn't tell. All I know is she looked weak. She kept looking at my body, and I let her. Watch me Bonnie, watch me, because I sit there and watch you, like a fucking disgusting pervert. She finally looked back up at my face, and her hand went to her crotch, and I watched her grab herself and pinch her legs together, like she had to pee. "Damon, I was doing so well, and you'r libido, and sexual over animation...GOD! You know, you fuck a lot! I can tell. You're a fucking, sexual disaster. You just... you have no remorse for fucking in your windows. And you shouldn't feel remorse, it's your house, but... but you fuck her like an animal." Every word she says I want to rip that dress off of her. The way she says fuck and the way she stares at my body like she's enraged. It's taking everything in me not to... fuck her. "You and your libido, and your sexual spontaneity has made me do something regretful, and it's too late to go back now."
"What are you talking about?"
"Watching you fuck her, was certainly my trigger."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I don't know what I did." I'm so confused right now.
"I thought I was stronger than that, and you proved me wrong. And now... I've already made a choice, and I can't go back on it-"
"Wait, what are you talking about?"
"I sound crazy. Never mind. Forget I came here." When she turned to leave, a ran to her, grabbed her by her arm, and stopped her. She wouldn't face me. She couldn't face me. She just kept her body facing away from mine.
"I didn't plan for this to happen."
"Its fine. It's your home. I'm sorry. That's all I wanted to say. I'm sorry for having invaded your privacy. I was sitting on my front porch when that girl ran out and screamed at me, then blamed me for something, I don't even know I did. So, I came to apologize."
"I'm sorry she yelled at you. You didn't deserve that. I'm sorry you saw that."
"It's okay. It's your life." My strong grip on her arm was more than I could even handle. She gently removed my hand from her arm and walked out of the house. And I'm left wondering what she meant by I set her back. Her progress, and her making a regretful choice. I've had the conversations with this woman. Each one of them so telling. And each one makes me want to know her more. It's not just sex, right? I can't just want to fuck her. There has to be more to what I want from her, right?
...
A couple of hours later I hear a loud motorcycle pull up outside. I don't bother looking. I don't know anyone with a motorcycle. I was laying out some photos, for a spread I was editing. It was finally dark out and I just remembered I hadn't eaten. I ordered some food from a takeout service I use. When it got here, as I was paying for it, I realized the motorcycle was sitting in her drive way. For the weeks, she's invaded my entire existence, she's never had one other person at her house.
That's a man's bike. It's not my place to care. I will admit, I have some residually, manifested, and unsettling feelings built up from my five-minute interaction with her today. Suddenly, I'm not hungry. I'm back at mental unrest, so my food sits for an hour. I walk out to my back porch, and sit on my practically unused patio furniture. I leave all of the lights out, and just sit quietly. I notice her lights are on, and I allow myself to quietly observe. I could hear some laughter. Then I hear some barking. The dog rarely barks, but he was barking. So, she walks out, with him. I'm guessing he had to go to the bathroom. She walks out with him, some, and with that she can't see me, ghosting in the dark.
Then, two minutes later. A taller guy with dark hair walks out. He's wearing the entire, typical, biker guy get-up. "Hurry up and come back inside."
"Stop. I'm walking him. It takes him a while."
"I'm waiting for you."
The moment he said that, I paid such close attention to him. He looked a bit familiar. But I can't place it. It's too dark to tell. And I didn't like anything about his demeanor. He was cocky, and demanding. Too demanding. She wasn't really the kind of woman you demanded. She was the kind of woman you, begged. She's the kind of woman, you don't feel worthy of.
This asshole, is acting like he has her wrapped around his finger. "Hey, I came, because you called me. I haven't seen you in months. You won't talk to me. I miss you. Now, I'm waiting because of the bloody dog, give me a break."
He was the set back. I get it now. She came to me, and said I set her back, and she made this regretful choice. She called a man she hadn't spoken to in months. But, what does my having sex, have anything to do with her regression? She and I, are no one to each other. Nothing. Two strangers crossing paths, until we approach another impasse in our lives, and one of us goes a different direction.
Until then, I guess... we were brought into each other's life for a reason. That's all I can think. My therapist has me on some outrageous journey, and somehow, this woman is a part of it. While I battle my prolonged mental struggle about this mystery woman, I notice that her once upon a time laughter with him, has now turned conflict. I don't know how it started, because I was stuck in my thoughts, but I heard him apologize. That apology, is laughable. If that's what you want to call it. He's not good at being remorseful.
"Fine. What should I bloody say? I'm fucking sorry."
"You are sorry. You're a sorry bastard."
"This, isn't why I came here to be reminded of how things ended."
"Ended? I left you, because you couldn't get your shit together. You fucked everything in sight. And I gave you everything."
He reached around, her as she turned from him to find her dog, who hadn't come back yet. He tried holding her, and she pushed him away. "Don't touch me."
"Fuck you. Why am I here?"
"I don't know. I just... it's been so long since-"
"Since what? Since we've had sex? You decided to become celibate. Not me. Why do you think I fucked other women? Celibacy is your journey, not mine."
"I have a problem Lorenzo! Why couldn't you just be patient? Why couldn't you just let me have peace for a few months, to wrap my mind around it. Sex addiction, is a real problem!"
And in half a second I went from leaning back, to upright and vigilant to her words. Did she just admit to being a sex addict?
"Sexual addiction, is not a problem of psychosis. It's not even a real condition. You like sex, you fucking, love sex! Stop seeking attention about it."
"It's much more than that, and it's not about attention."
"So, stop fucking your boyfriend, right? Make him suffer so you can find yourself? Pathetic." What an asshole. He just, doesn't get it. Which is why, sex addicts hate telling people, about our disease. It's much more of an interpersonal, struggle. People don't truly get it.
"Pathetic? You called me pathetic?"
"Yes! Bloody pathetic."
"Get out! I called you, because I made a mistake. I thought I was ready, but I'm not. I need to go find my dog. Get out. Go home, Lorenzo." She left him on the back porch and went to search for Enzo. I saw her boyfriend, stand for a second, then he went back in the house slamming her door. I got up, and proceeded to attempt to help her. And suddenly, he ran back out, and I stopped.
"Love, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." Bullshit! He meant it, don't fall for it, Bonnie.
"Go home. I don't need you." She yelled.
"Please, let me help you, find the dog, and if you still want me to leave, I will."
"He doesn't like you. My fucking dog, hates you. Go back inside. He probably ran away, because of you, asshole." He went back inside, slamming her door yet again. I hate this guy. I got up again and walked back onto the beach to her. I walked out about a hundred feet and I could hear her crying. She was walking around kicking up sand, and looking for the dog. "Zozo... come on puppy. Don't hide from me. Please?"
"So, I guess he finally wanted to play fetch?" I asked her.
"Oh, hey. I didn't think you were home."
"Whys that?"
"All your lights are off."
"You watch for me?" I embarrassed her.
"I do. I live alone, so I always focus on when neighbors are home."
"You live... Alone?"
"Yeah. Alone. I've actually lived alone a while now, but I'd been waiting to buy this place from the owner."
"You bought this place?"
"Yes. Why is are these questions so hard to believe?"
"Because, one, you're a beautiful woman, and if any man is lucky enough to have you, he shouldn't let you spend so much time alone. And two, as long as I've lived here, the owner, he's rented it out to shitty tenants. Rich people who can afford his ridiculous rates."
"Well, that's my dad for you."
"Your dad is the owner?"
"Was. I wanted this property since I was a kid. He would never "give" it to me. But told me, when I saved enough, I could buy it. He hates this property. It used to be his and my mom's vacation property. I came here every summer. When my parents separated, I went with my mom. My dad got this place, in their divorce. Then turned it into rental property. And I've been in negotiations with him ever since I was ten."
"I can't believe he made you buy it. As opposed to happy graduation or something."
"Very funny. When I graduated, I got kicked out of the house, and told, life starts now. You either succeed or you fail. I lived on campus for the first year, and ever since then I've lived on my own." I was enjoying walking and talking to her, and sort of looking for the dog that shall remain nameless, when he finally came running up to us. "There you are baby." She fell to her knees and poured so much love on to the dog. "Awww, Zozo. Baby, boy."
"Zozo? Wow, I like that a lot better than that other name." She looked up and laughed, at me.
"He likes Zozo better too. He hates being called Enzo."
"Dogs are usually a great judge of things." She looked at me and laughed.
"Yeah, they are. He seems to like you."
"There you have it."
"Zozo, is a bad boy and runs away whenever he's faced with sharing me with Lorenzo." She falls back on the sand, and she's a different person than she was ten minutes ago. But, I couldn't handle not knowing why she was crying. Even if I heard the argument, I'm taking my therapists advice. I approached her. Now I'm talking, and engaging, so I can listen.
"Why were you crying when I came out here?"
"Why do you always manage to be unintentionally abrasive?" She sat up, holding her dog.
"I don't mean to be. I have a hard time, showing empathy." I didn't want to offend her. But, I felt complete daggers inside of her eyes, when I reminded her how she was sad.
"People cry. It's normal."
"I don't like seeing you cry."
"I appreciate that, but you hardly know me."
"I want to know you."
"I'm not," she shook her head at me, and I felt some form of rejection happening, and with that, I wasn't prepared to be rejected, "I'm not sure what that means."
"Neither am I." I kneel down and wipe the remnants of her wet cheek with the pads of my thumbs. She changed the subject.
"Sometimes, I walk outside, to see if I can see you in your house. I mean, not fucking or anything. Just, existing. You're such a recluse. I guess, I seem pretty weird, right?" Hearing that made me feel less crazy for having been waiting to see her when she walks outside every day.
"No. It's not weird." As dark as it is outside, right now, and all I can focus on is the green of her irises and somewhere inside of me, the ignition, is lit, and burning right under my skin, while the skin of her cheeks rest in my palms. I'm not sure where the dog went, but he jumped out of her lap, and we moved towards one another. I pulled her lips to mine, and my need for her touch was so deep and desperate, that because of my therapist's words, I couldn't do it. I couldn't sexualize this connection. Although it may be too late for that. We practically had imaginary sex a few nights ago.
That has yet to be mentioned.
She looks at me, like she wants me to touch her, everywhere. She begins to breath emphatically. I feel her chest as it takes in and releases air.
I have never felt someone's, need the way I feel hers. I have never felt someone's, emotions the way I feel hers, and she put her hands in my hair, and we just, looked at one another, in this strange and intimate, moment. We are connecting. There's so much adrenaline, and blood flowing to all of the wrong places, she needs to be naked, and I need to be inside of her. This needs to happen. I need this to happen right now. Free me, midnight woman. Free me, from my own mind, and make me feel all the things you feel. Let me take all of the pain and swallow it with my apathy. Let me crush your pain, and make it none-existent. Then let me create anything you want out of this moment. "God, I want you." I whispered it into her lips. And she exhaled, and started to breathe heavily. Our breaths were entangled in one another's. And it felt so, obnoxiously satisfying to be breathing her air. "I really want you. Which is really weird, because we're practically strangers. And you deserve better than a guy like me." She let out a quiet, and sad laugh, and whispered back to me.
"That's too bad." I didn't want to let her face go. I wanted to sit here, and know her. But...
("Bonnie!") He called to her.
"I should go."
"Who is he?" I demanded.
"The ex."
"The one you had no closure from?"
"Yes." I'm still holding her face, refusing to let her go.
"You guys back together?" She didn't answer. "Do you love him?" She remained quiet. "Is he, the reason, you're crying?"
"I cry, every day. It's good for me."
"And today... why are you crying?"
"I'm crying, because, I have no will power."
("BONNIE!") He called again, and she got up, forcing me to let her face go.
"Go away Lorenzo!" She yelled. He slammed her door closed again.
"Thanks for helping me find Zozo." She leaned in and hugged me, and that is when she felt how hard my dick was. It was such an embarrassing moment, for me. I almost swallowed my own tongue, wanting to suffocate, rather than for her to feel disgusted by me. I couldn't hide it, and now, I'm sure she felt objectified, and she will probably never want to speak to or look at me again.
"I'm sorry. It wasn't- fuck this is embarrassing." She boldly looked down at my erect pants, and back up at me. "Bonnie, I'm so FUCKING sorry, it's not what you think-" she looked at me for a half a second, and then rushed my body and kissed me. I didn't want to feel how soft her lips felt against mine, and how perfectly she placed the right amount of force to pull me out of myself. I didn't want to know that she loved deep kisses, like me. The kind of kisses we suffocate each other. I hated the fact that she took her time, and tasted me. Licked her lips and went back in, after smiling. Her hand holding the back of my neck, gently yet firmly, like I belonged to her, was one of those things I could have lived without knowing. And I could've lived without knowing she was braless, under this dress still, and her nipples poke me though my thin t-shirt, as the breeze stiffened them. Her kiss was dominant, like she kissed to breath, and she was fighting to live, right now. I softly matched her attack, and met her force for force. Somehow, we end up against a tree and my hands were under her dress, holding the highest part of the back of her thigh, lifting her slightly, making her could feel my unapologetic dick, as it touched her panties through my jeans. She should know what she's been torturing me with for nights among sleepless nights. I wanted her to feel the part of me that throbbed beyond repair every time I saw her naked, and wouldn't stop throbbing until I had sex to relieve my pain. And unfortunately, I wasn't having sex with her, to relieve it. I was with the psycho.
But, tonight, I will finally relieve it with her body. Tonight, I will finally be inside of her, and lord help me I don't bust too quick, the more she felt my stiff, muscle, the more she whimpered in anticipation. "Please..." I hear her whisper. "Touch me..." I feel her rubbing her pussy against me, and she's wild. We forgot she had company, we were tuned into this moment, while the world was tuned out. I felt her wanting me to fuck her, like rules didn't apply to us, as sex addicts.
She loved it. She loved how my dick felt against her, and I loved feeling the instant heat from between her legs. I lifted her more, and her legs wrap around my waist slightly. And it was nothing to get my pants down. I unfasten them quickly, like a junkie, needing a fix, and she just held onto me, anticipating this rough, hard ride. I want this to happen. I want to stick my dick inside of her, and feel myself melt, because I'm almost positive that's how hot, the lava between her legs flows. I moved her panties to the side, and this is about to happen. The head of my dick touched her swollen pussy lips and as I began to push inside of her, she was so tight, I couldn't breathe. That's right, she'd been celibate.
The beast in me wants to absolutely wreck her. Turn her life upside down, and fuck her up in the head. But, the man in me wanted to cry, like a little bitch about to lose his virginity.
I watched her face, as her eyes squeezed shut. And her teeth bit her lip, and she was as needy as me. And not, in a horny, make me cum way. It was more like, she needed that feeling of, utter pleasure, and just, giving in and letting go. She was trapped inside of herself with a dire need for release, I felt it. And I'm not even inside of her. The head of my dick, is just barley poking her pussy lips.
She was warm, and soft. Holding her, felt like holding the entire world in my palms. She was everything, that I wasn't, and everything that I was, and I want her more than I've ever wanted anything, on this Earth.
("BONNIE!") He called her again, disrupting us. And everything my therapist said to me hit my ear drums like guilt. How I needed to get to know her, and not make this about sex. Then hearing her addiction, was my addiction, I knew I couldn't hurt her. So, I stopped, while we were both anticipating my breaking through her barrier, and pushing into her. I became the world's stupidest man, and stopped when I heard him ("BONNIE!") yell, out again.
I stopped.
"You should go. He's waiting." I said. Her face paused in shock, but she was unconcerned.
"I don't care. I don't fucking care." She almost cried the words. "Fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me." I couldn't handle looking in her face, and hearing the words coming from her mouth. Even if they words I lived to hear her say.
But I kept inserting my foot into my mouth. "I'm not in a good place. And I'm not ready for this kind of commitment, Bonnie-" then, every part of her, that was touching every part of me, suddenly ceased.
And even though I was trying to protect her, I think I said that wrong. Fuck. I said it wrong.
"I see." She went from hot to cold, in seconds.
"That's not what I meant-"
"It's fine." She smiled and allowed her body to glide gently down mine, leaving my hard dick, without a reason. I'm gonna have blue balls again. "I'll see you later." She adjusted her dress and panties, walked back, and just like that, she was gone, with Zozo, not far behind her. After pulling my pants up, I went inside. It was only nine o'clock. I had three hours. I wanted him gone, and three hours, meant I would see her go on her midnight swim. He left at eleven. I heard his bike start up, and he was gone. I needed to see her. I needed to know we were okay. I waited, and waited. Midnight... nothing. One am... nothing. Two am... fuck!
She not going to swim tonight. She's angry at me. She's... moved on.
...
She did this for a week. In that week, he came over three more times.
It reminded me of the words out of my therapist's mouth. Go to her. Engage, invite her for dinner. Be platonic, and listen.
My ego won't let me.
For once, I'm stuck, in one place. I haven't thought about random sex all week. I just keep thinking about what happened between me and her, and wanting to talk to her. Seeing her face. Being outside while she's outside, even if we don't speak. I just want for us to be in the same space, because her presence fulfills something inside of me.
And still, I had blue balls for a few days. My dick would get hard on its own, remembering how I stopped us from having sex, right as my dick was about to enter her body.
Not only am I a stupid man, but quite foolish to not take advantage of both of our weaknesses, and fulfill it with both of our selfish need to fuck each other.
...
Two weeks post Kiss
...
I've gone back to my life, before Bonnie. He's been there so much in the past two weeks, that, at this point, I'm just giving up. I want her to be happy. I don't personally like this guy, and I don't technically know him. What I do know, is he doesn't deserve her. But neither do I.
And I won't forget that I heard her admit, she's an addict like me. I haven't been able to let those words escape my memory for weeks. It just reminded me, that she deserves space to evaluate her desires and her needs, without someone to cloud her judgement. I get her, better than she realizes. But... One motto I live by, that will stay with me forever.
When it comes to love and sex, a person deserves the right to give it freely, on their terms. Forcing, and willing the need from them pushes them away, and into a corner, where they remain isolated, and fight what it means to love themselves.
I care about her feelings.
I won't do that to her. She deserves better.
See, it's not just about sex with her, right?
It's much deeper than that.
I think.
A/N okay so, Damon over-heard Bonnie is a sex addict to, when she was arguing with her ex. And she's been celibate for months. She confronted him about his spontaneous, window sex and how it triggered her. So, she called an ex, she hadn't seen in months. Then the two of them share the moment on the beach, like two junkies. And they will bond quick, because they have this connection, that they cant control.
Damon has yet to tell her he's a sex addict too.
So, a couple people mentioned Bonnie's perspective. I could put a chapter (next) which would be easy to write, that's all Bonnie's perspective? Explaining - Who she is and why. Her addiction, first impressions of Damon, and his life. Watching him in the window, and how it triggered her. It's up to you... either way I'll try to keep this updated promptly, since it's short.
Thoughts so far?