Hello again!
A few questions have come up:
This will NOT be a cheater fic. Satyrmaniacs (male nymphos, thanks tds88 for giving me something to Google!-lol) can be monogamous. While a lot of them tend to manwhore it up, there are some that, with proper guidance and support, can live a healthy (and very good sex life) with their one partner. I impose creative license and say this is so for Edward.
And yes, the boy carries some lubrication…. Snort. Ya'll are so worried for the boy and his appendage.
I mean no disrespect to those with addictions. This is not a heavy story, by any means. But I also don't mean to make light of people with real issues. Fic people on the other hand. Keeping it light, ya'll.
SM owns Twilight. I own yet another folder of Googling research…
Satisfaction- The Rolling Stones
~~oo~~
Chapter 5: A firm grasp…
EPOV
"So Edward."
"Thirteen," I said resignedly.
So far.
"What was different about today? You had been doing so well."
I scowled at the thick file folder on the desk.
Yes, six months of daily accounts into how many times I masturbated and thought about sex could get pretty thick.
That's what she said.
"What's so funny Edward?"
I choked on my internal joke and shifted in my seat.
"Nothing. Nothing changed. I was just… bored today," I lied.
It had nothing to do with my new obsession. Not at all.
"Boredom is not an excuse, Edward. We talked about that," Carlisle replied, gearing up for the lecture of the night. "What you need is a hobby, something to distract you…"
I let him drone on, my mind drifting back to what it had thought about since this afternoon.
Her.
Bella Swan.
The Police Chief's daughter.
It was like fate wanted to spite me. Making my newest obsession that much more unattainable.
Why did she have to come here?
Or sit next to me.
Or smell so good.
Or have that long silky hair that would feel so incredible trailing down my stomach until she…
"Edward?"
I looked up in surprise, my mind far off in a biology lab with brown hair bobbing over my swollen cock.
"I'll try to be better tomorrow," I replied, hoping that the generic answer would end this lecture soon.
I desperately needed to lock myself in the bathroom.
Again.
"Edward, I'm trying not to include anyone else in this issue," Carlisle said, pulling his glasses off to lay them on my thick folder. "You had been showing signs of progress. But if you can't control yourself, we have to look at other options. There's medicine, medical procedures…"
"I'm not going and getting snipped! Or brainwashed!" I hissed and stood up.
"That's not what I meant, Edward," Carlisle argued wearily, standing and blocking my exit. "I'm just not very well qualified to help you if you won't try. There's a friend of mine here who specializes in addiction of your type."
"What part of being a teenager that just thinks about sex a lot is different from being a sex addict?" I asked loudly, not caring if Esme heard.
I was sure Carlisle had taken precautions to protect her.
Not that I'd want to fuck her. She was my mom. Even if I was adopted.
Even in my worst, that was never a thought that crossed my mind.
Gross.
"The part where it becomes an obsessive need, Edward. A compulsion. That's when it becomes an addiction and not just hormones," he replied, trying to remain calm.
"So if I like a girl, I can't do anything," I countered hotly. "Because I'm sick."
Carlisle sighed and raised his hands in resignation.
"I don't know, Edward. I'm sure your age and changing body doesn't help the situation. And what happened to you back in Alaska. That was just the beginning. You and…. I'm just glad we started treatment before you took it to the next level."
"And what's that? When you won't even let me look at a girl and not go and judge me."
He sighed again and moved closer to me. I took a step back and crossed my arms across me tight.
"One girl can lead to more. You were lucky in Alaska. For now, you need to steer clear of girls, Edward. Maybe if you had a firmer grasp of your urges…"
I snickered and moved to step around him.
"I have a firm grasp, Carlisle," I shot back, watching his face contort in embarrassment over his poor choice of words.
"You need to get this under control, Edward," he said. "You have to restrict the stimuli that sets you off. Or we need to medicate."
"Same time tomorrow?" I said, evading.
I heard Carlisle sigh as I passed, my bedroom door closing off any chase he may have considered.
But the discussion had certainly sobered up my urge.
I lay in bed, the darkness creeping by while I thought on what Carlisle had said.
I didn't want to be some deviant. I just wanted to be a normal Senior in high school.
I didn't want to medicate.
But I didn't want to stop myself either from my sexual thoughts. It wasn't plain old vanilla like Carlisle liked it, but it didn't make me a deviant.
And to blame Tanya….
It wasn't her fault. I was willing. I enjoyed it. She showed me things I would never learn in a book or even in a porno. She had liked me.
It wasn't wrong.
I had asked her to do it.
So maybe it was my fault.
Too late to change anything. Except now I was by myself again and Carlisle was involved in trying to get me back on the straight and narrow.
Bland and plain old vanilla.
When I wanted chocolate. Deep, rich, melt in your mouth chocolate.
Restrict the stimuli.
How could I do that if I had to see her every day?
I'd have to try and ignore her.
Change classes maybe. Just like Spanish.
How do you give up something you crave so much?
Fuck, I hated Carlisle sometimes.
He had taken something I enjoyed and tainted it.
Tainted her.
Ruined it.
I couldn't think about Bella now and not worry that maybe I was sick.
That was the first night I didn't jack off to fall asleep.
What would happen tomorrow, knowing that no matter what, she was off limits?
Whatever Carlisle thought...
I was not a deviant.
~~oo~~
AN: Clearly Edward thinks he's just a healthy eighteen year old.
And Carlisle had to buzz kill his thoughts of Bella. We'll learn more about Carlisle's reasoning soon. Promise.
Poor Wankward. (Seems to be the general name, although my fave is still MightGoBlindward- lol-)
More tomorrow!
MWAH!
steph