Chapter Nine

 

 

 

“Mmm…so hot. Need more!”

It was happening again. A powerful heat formed within Mary’s core. Like the smallest of sparks growing into a raging inferno, it drew her into a state of intense desire. She needed this heat to consume her. She needed to feel the burn through every nerve in her body.

Mary’s brain once again ceded control to other parts of her body—namely, the parts between her legs now driving her actions. Her pussy burned with arousal. The outer folds of her vagina were fully engorged. She followed this need with more vigorous teasing.

She was pumping her fingers in and out of her vagina while she rubbed her clit with her thumb. The other hand was pressed against the wall, allowing Mary to support herself as her legs became weak under the heat. In this dazed state, she vigorously pleasured herself in a reckless pursuit of another orgasm.

She could barely recall how she’d ended up like this. Mary remembered getting home from work, unpacking some groceries then stripping out of her sweaty workout clothes to take a shower. After that, everything got a little fuzzy. Mary didn’t know what had led her this heated round of self-pleasuring, but she knew who to blame.

“Peter…” she said with a desperate gasp.

Everything around her felt so hot, but it had nothing to do with the fact that her shower was still running. Just saying his name made Mary’s heart race, giving her the energy and motivation she needed to push herself to the brink of orgasm. With soap still dripping from her breasts and parts of her hair, she was ready to climax.

As the inferno consumed her, Mary leaned back against the wall. This allowed her to fondle her breast with her free hand. She squeezed and pinched her nipple while pumping her fingers into her pussy.

“Oh, Peter!” Mary cried out.

As soon as she said his name, the fire within turned into a hot surge of pleasure that shot up through her body like a rocket. The inner muscles of her vagina spasmed, her thighs tensed and her knees buckled. With her back against the wall, Mary ended up sliding down to the floor, her body throbbing with orgasmic bliss. As her moans echoed throughout her shower, she kept shouting Peter’s name.

Mary said it like a reflex. It had somehow become deeply connected to her most basic desires. It complicated something that should’ve been simple. Even a recovering sex addict needed a good release every now and then. But this didn’t feel so basic anymore.

“Damn…I did it again,” Mary said distantly.

She opened her eyes to confirm what she already knew. Sitting on the wet floor, her hand buried between her thighs, Mary saw yet another case in which Peter Rogers had affected her. Most of his effects on her had been good, but there were still some lingering issues, and this was one of them.

Mary took a moment to steady her breathing, letting the orgasmic sensations in her body pass. Then she removed her hand from between her thighs, which now dripped with her juices, and washed it under the pouring water. Once the strength returned to her legs, she rose and rinsed off. She even adjusted the faucets to make the water a little colder in an effort to temper any lingering desires, even though it was too late to wash off the emotional aftereffects.

Once finished, she turned off the shower and grabbed a towel. As she dried herself, she let out a defeated groan. This hadn’t been the first time this had happened—her pleasuring herself to thoughts of Peter Rogers—but it was becoming uncomfortably regular.

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Do you want to make things harder?” Mary asked herself.

Shaking her head in dismay, Mary wrapped the towel around her naked body and stepped out of the shower. She wiped away the fog that had built up on her mirror and gazed at her reflection. She looked pretty anxious for a woman who’d just had an orgasm. She might have been overwhelmed if this had been an anomaly. However, a lot had changed since she’d reconnected with Peter and that didn’t just apply to her masturbation habits.

“Two weeks,” Mary said to her reflection. “It’s been a little over two weeks since you and Peter agreed to help each other. And for all the good he’s done, you still can’t help yourself.”

Two weeks ago, that would’ve been a lot easier. Her inability to berate herself was another testament to Peter’s effect on her. It still didn’t stop her from trying.

“A few dirty thoughts is one thing, but this is more than a few,” Mary continued. “It’s healthy for a young woman to masturbate, but you’re pushing it. How many times is this now? Once a day? Twice? You’re just lucky you had the decency to do it in the shower. Last week, you got yourself off while stuck in traffic. What does that say about you?”

She already knew the answers to those questions and some of them didn’t sit well. Others were a bit trickier, going beyond Peter Rogers and the various problems associated with recovering sex addicts.

“Cut the crap. You know what it says. Eleven-and-a-half months, plus the time you spent with Peter, and you still feel so…incomplete. Peter helped fill the emptiness, but there’s still something missing—something you won’t allow yourself to think about. Pretty soon, you’ll have taken all the steps you promised to take after you left Miami. And if, after all that, you’re still crippled by your addiction…then what?”

That question confounded her more than anything she did to get herself off. In just a few days, she’d have to stand up in front of everyone at the Chapman Hill Addiction Outreach Program and say she had stuck with the program for a full year. Everyone, especially Sister Angela, expected her to be glowing with renewed spirit. They expected her to say that she had conquered her addiction, having cured herself of the ills of her unhealthy desires.

Even before Peter had come back into her life, she’d doubted she could meet those expectations. Now, after trying to deal with her addiction in a new way, those doubts had only escalated.

“You’re either misguided, stressed or crazy,” Mary said. “Either way, you’ll need to figure it out. If your brain doesn’t do its job, then you can expect other parts of your body to take over.”

Having belittled herself enough, Mary sighed and finished drying herself. She grabbed another towel to dry her hair. Then she used a blow-dryer and brush to fix it up. Once finished, she removed her towel, retrieved her bathrobe and exited her bathroom.

She had another CHAOP meeting that evening, so she had to make herself presentable at some point. She also had another get-together with Peter afterward. After what she’d just done in the shower, there were bound to be complications for both of them. She had gotten pretty good at coping, but at some point, she had to do more than just that.

As Mary contemplated how to deal with all these issues, a brochure for the Chapman Hill Addiction Outreach Program caught her gaze. She kept it on the night stand next to her bed, as suggested by Sister Angela, to remind herself of her goals. It contained details about the program, as well as a few tips for those recovering specifically from sex addiction. Mary had read it over multiple times. She found herself opening it up anyway and turning to a specific section.

“Understanding sexual addiction. Accepting the damage and overcoming its grip,” she read aloud. “Sex addiction is one of the more complex addictions we deal with. It sets itself apart from substance abuse by corrupting a natural, beautiful act. Those afflicted engage in deviant sexual behaviors that obscure and undermine their personal and spiritual well-being. With our personal, comprehensive and time-tested approach, we help sex addicts understand the harmful nature of these behaviors and overcome these destructive urges.”

Mary had read this text dozens of times before. She always heard Sister Angela’s voice when she read it, not her own. She never doubted the older woman’s commitment. The nun sincerely believed that she could help everybody overcome these ‘destructive urges,’ as she called them.

She wasn’t like most nuns. She’d avoided getting overly religious, never becoming too preachy with anyone or saying they also needed to adopt the mentality of a nun. At the same time, her piety often made her difficult to relate to, in spite of her past. She claimed she understood, but that understanding was limited.

She found herself re-reading the last sentence a few times. The idea of understanding her behaviors and overcoming the urges had made sense when Mary had first entered the program. After re-connecting with Peter, though, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

“I’m way behind the curve when it comes to urges. That’s for damn sure,” Mary said. “Understanding the nature? I guess I’m not so sure where I stand there.”

She continued flipping through the brochure, reading over all the tips and tricks she had learned over the past year. They ranged from saying certain prayers to keeping a journal. Mary had tried some of those methods. Some had helped, but none had made her feel like she had truly dealt with her problem.

“Maybe I need a new approach,” Mary said. “What I did before wasn’t working. What I’m doing now with Peter? I guess it’s working, but I’m not sure I understand it.”

With parts of her body still tingling from her orgasm, Mary set the brochure aside and got dressed. She had a new goal for tonight’s meeting. She needed to discuss this with Sister Angela and Peter. Taking things one day at a time was no longer an option. She needed to get more proactive.

Mary threw on some underwear, a pair of jeans and a red T-shirt. She still had an hour or so before she had to leave for the meeting. That gave her time to pay a few bills and take care of some menial tasks, ensuring she could focus all her effort on the challenge at hand.

She was about to get going when she heard her cell phone go off. Assuming it was someone from work, she checked the caller ID. To Mary’s surprise, the number belonged to Sister Angela.

“This can’t be a good sign,” she said with dread.

She contemplated letting it go to voicemail. She purged that thought from her mind and answered it, as anyone in the Chapman Hill Addiction Outreach Program was expected to do.

“Hello?” Mary said anxiously.

“Mary, I’m sorry to call you like this, but we have a situation. I need to speak with you at the community center as soon as possible.” said Sister Angela in an urgent voice.

“Why? What’s going on? And why call me?”

“I…I can’t say it over the phone. Someone called me, and…it’s just too awful. Please just…just get over here! You need to see it for yourself.”