The addiction is there, right in front of me, staring back at me, unblinkingly, unfeelingly, indiscriminatingly. Senselessly it begins to unfold, unfurl, and traipse through me until I have my fix. Some may call me weak, uncaring, unthinking, unreasoning, or even just plain horrid. But I find people who call me that judging, unrealistic, unkind and just plain closed minded. How can they know who I am when they haven’t even begun to walk in my shoes? The last time I had my fix was last night, at about eleven o’clock on the bonnet of someone’s car. They were someone who literally liked to walk in my shoes, high heeled ones at that. I like wearing colour, I try to be the opposite of what my name is I suppose, poo brown my friends would joke. I’ve never written a blog about my experiences before so hopefully my life isn’t too boring. I’ll tell you a story about a sex addict. My story to be exact. Sometimes I wish that our minds were more like an animal where their simpler thoughts are more along the lines of “love, worship and serve” where ours are more clouded.

So to clear up a few things first about me, I am not a freak, I am not someone to be wary of and I am not stunningly beautiful but nor am I butt ugly with a face that only a mother could possibly love. I am not skinny but nor am I fat, I am curvy and I’d like to say healthy looking. I always prefer to think that men like their girls to have a bit of meat on them. Something so that they can dig their hands in, grab at, or just for the proverbial term pushing. I am not an unemployed dole bludger who sits at home smoking weed or drinking 24/7. I would like to consider myself a rational person and at that quite intelligent but with a few dense moments as I like to call them thrown in. I always use protection, and always try to think through such as where I am at, who I am with and are there any police around. Just that one time was I caught for sex in public and I don’t particularly want to experience that again. So you may be wondering why I do this? Well as in any addiction it’s the act that’s doing you, like an overeater, or an alcoholic, one can’t seem to stop themselves.

I do it mainly because of the feeling I get from it, I feel sexy, alive, like I have achieved something. Like I am someone, not just a worker who sits in an office for nine hours of the day droning on about their life who has only a cat waiting at home to be fed and petted again. Like a shopoholic who gets their fixes by spending large amounts of money on beautiful items. I get my fix from having what I like to call beautiful sex, the men may not always be beautiful but I like to think that the act of sex is. And yes generally my partners are only men, I find that sex with women to be a bit disappointing, like eating a steak and then having soup the next day, it feeds the stomach but the hunger is yet to be unquenched. Excuse the pun but I have and most always will liked my meat, both on the menu and for getting off. I don’t have sex with just anyone, I do have morals and I do have ethics. I wont have sex knowingly with a married man. I will not be called a home wrecker, and I do not want to be a bread cutter. And I will not have sex for money, or favors.

So for those of you who wish to know more about what goes on in the mind of a woman who is a sex addict then please keep tune. I’ll have more posts about thoughts, conquests, drama and everything else that goes on in between the real world and in the sheets. I hope to get to know you as you get to know me with my exploits.