by Jack Fisher
With this in mind, Mary turned her idea into action. She took a step closer to Peter, much closer than she had dared thus far. If Sister Angela were present, she would’ve pushed them apart out of fear that this could trigger too much temptation. However, they needed to tempt each other…albeit in a wholly unique way.
“Hug me,” Mary said.
“Uh…come again?” Peter asked.
“Hug me,” she repeated. “Don’t ask for permission. Don’t wait for me to make the first move. Just hug me.”
“But—”
Mary put her hand up to silence him. She’d had a feeling he would react that way. She needed him to stop overthinking the situation, having done way too much of that herself.
“Before you overanalyze, let me point out something. From what you’ve told me, you don’t just take what you need. You often wait for someone to guide you to it. Maybe you needed that as a kid, but as an adult it’s different,” explained Mary.
“I’m not sure where you’re going with this, but continue,” Peter said.
“You went out of your way to give others what they need. Sometimes it involves saving them from burning buildings, sometimes it involves giving them great sex. But what about your needs? If you don’t fulfill them, then it’s going to mess you up. That’s a given.”
“Are you speaking from experience or just plain common sense?”
“A little of both, actually,” admitted Mary. “When you’re an addict, common sense isn’t so common, so why not give it a try? You need to connect with someone in a way that doesn’t involve swapping body fluids. Well, here I am. I’m not going to give you permission. I’m just going to give you a chance to do it. The choice is yours, and for once, I’m going to trust a handsome, attractive man to make the right one.”
He gave her another confused look. He didn’t ask any additional questions, either. That was a good thing, because Mary doubted she could explain it more if she tried. She was operating on a whim, hoping something would come of it.
Another silence followed. Mary could tell that Peter was both conflicted and skeptical. She could hardly blame him. This sounded so strange on paper, but seemed so necessary in practice. She was doing something that Sister Angela had told her to avoid, putting them in situations where the temptation might be too great. She sought intimacy during a time when she felt vulnerable, but she was willing to risk it with Peter Rogers.
“Peter, I…” began Mary in another effort to break the silence.
But before she could get another word out, Peter made his choice. Acting on a whim, just as Mary had done earlier, he threw his arms around her and embraced her. It caught her off-guard, but she accepted it nonetheless.
Silence once again followed, but it wasn’t least bit awkward. Instead, Mary felt a powerful warmth within his embrace. It felt intimate but not overtly sexual. It was not foreplay or flirting. This was something totally different.
“Thank you, Mary. Thank you…for what you’ve done for me,” Peter said, his voice once again strained by emotions.
“You’re…you’re welcome, Peter,” Mary said.
This time, he conveyed positive sentiment. Peter clung to her like a warm blanket on a cold winter night, which was oddly fitting under the hot summer heat. Mary smiled at the feeling and hugged back, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head against his broad chest.
He was breathing heavily and she could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat. Despite his well-toned muscles, his arms actually trembled. This strong man had become weak in her arms. It was profound in so many ways—more so than she’d ever expected.
“Thanks for not running this time,” she found herself saying.
“I’m glad you didn’t let me,” replied Peter.
The shift in his voice revealed he was smiling. It assured Mary that her crazy idea had worked. It had been simple. It didn’t solve all their problems, but it was a welcome change from the isolation and frustration they had endured.
However, the more they lingered in the embrace, the more they tempted themselves. At some point, Mary’s body remembered that a handsome man had his arms around her. That triggered some responses that she didn’t wish to happen. The fiery heat she’d felt the previous night emerged again, making her legs weak and her inner thighs moist. She tempered her body’s response as best she could, but it still tested her restraint.
Easy girl, she told herself. Not here. Not now.
Before it got too heated, she ended the embrace so they could each catch their breath. His hands remained on her shoulders, the tension having faded considerably. He was still smiling. Mary smiled back, hiding whatever arousal she may have felt from his touch. She had no idea where things would go from here, and for once, she didn’t mind.
“I want to keep doing this,” Peter said, as though he’d just had an epiphany.
“You want to keep hugging? That may get a little weird,” Mary said in a humorous tone.
“No. I mean this,” he said, gesturing to the two of them. “You’re right. I need this. I can’t confront this problem alone. Just moving back here—removing myself from my problems—isn’t enough. I need something…no, someone who can be an anchor.”
“And you want me to be that anchor?” Mary asked.
“Why not? You know me so well. Hell, you know me better than anyone ever has or has even tried to. We were a part of each other’s lives before sex entered the picture. And since we happen to be dealing with the same problem, why not help one another?”
“You make it sound so logical. It almost makes too much sense.”
“Maybe that’s a sign. Then again, you’ve been dealing with this longer than I have. Just answer me this. Is what you were doing before working any better? You didn’t give the impression it was.”
Mary wanted to scold him for being so observant. That didn’t make him any less right. He’d followed the same twisted logic she had when she’d told him to hug her. It was still risky, the two of them interacting at a time when their addictions still affected them. However, they had just gotten a taste of those rewards. While it had tested her restraint, it had left Mary wanting more of the feeling.
“I’m…going to plead the fifth on that, but assume I’m open to a new approach,” Mary said.
“Sure. I can make those kinds of assumptions,” Peter said with a half-grin.
“Don’t make too many, pretty boy,” she retorted. “Now, tell me how this is going to work. How exactly are we going to help each other?”
He let go of her shoulders and contemplated this for a moment. Mary doubted he understood what he was suggesting, but the self-loathing she’d seen earlier had faded. She now saw a man who was ready to take more chances, even at a time when he was so vulnerable. Mary still couldn’t help but be intrigued.
“I still want to stay in the Chapman Hill Addiction Outreach Program. I don’t think either of us should ditch that just yet,” he began.
“Yeah. Probably a good idea,” Mary said.
“But outside that program, I think we should have our own meetings—meetings that are out in the open, in a public place and in a non-romantic setting. This way, we can share the things we’re not ready to share with others. I’m not going to lie to you. I am not ready to tell Sister Angela all the details I just told you.”
“I don’t blame you. Neither would she, for that matter.”
“But I feel like I can talk to you. I feel like I can be around you and not have it go the wrong way,” Peter said.
He still described it as though it were so logical. Mary saw the appeal, having someone outside work and CHAOP she could connect with. However, there were still risks and they weren’t easy to overlook.
“How can you be so sure it’s not going to go wrong?” Mary asked. “One minute we could be watching a softball game, the next we could be fucking each other senseless under the bleachers. Not to make that sound unpleasant, but I’m trying hard not to relapse here.”
“It won’t
happen, because we’re both recovering sex addicts. You know where I’m coming from. You know what I want out of this. And as it just so happens, I’m in a unique position to help you, also.”
“I don’t disagree. Even if it makes sense, it’s still something that bends the rules of the program,” Mary said. “Sister Angela makes a big deal about avoiding temptation, especially for newbies who also happen to be attractive men.”
“I get that, but you and I weren’t afraid to bend the rules as kids, and it paid off any number of times,” Peter said, flexing his muscles to prove his point.
“That’s different. We were kids, remember?”
“Now you’re just trying to talk yourself out of this, and not for the right reasons.”
“I’m not trying to—” she began. She realized she was overthinking the situation. She was doing exactly what she’d told herself not to do. She ended up biting her lip, letting herself look foolish.
“Just look at the basics here, Mary,” he said. “You want to get better. I do, too. The incentives are there. The history is there. The comfort is there. So, let’s be responsible sex addicts and face the cold, hard facts. We can’t get through this alone without tormenting ourselves. So why not try something a little bolder?”
He sounded downright excited about this, a major shift from his previous state. Peter looked at Mary as if she were the key to dealing with his problems. That put her in a difficult position, but one that presented a unique opportunity.
She didn’t bother debating him. Even if she wanted to, she would fail. Peter had that glint in his eyes that Mary had never turned away from when they were kids. As an adult who had endured months of misery and self-loathing, it was even harder to avoid.
He was right on too many levels. They needed each other and she needed a better way to confront her addiction. Sister Angela’s approach just wasn’t cutting it. Knowing all the risks and potential problems that might arise, Mary smiled at her childhood friend and pulled him into another embrace. It wasn’t as deep as the one before, but it got her point across.
“Okay, Peter. Let’s try…whatever the hell you want to call this,” Mary said.
“Great! I promise you I’ll approach this the same way I approached your training back in the day,” Peter said, now brimming with energy.
“You don’t need to promise me anything, Peter. We’re a couple of recovering sex addicts trying to rebuild our lives. Right now, let’s take things one day at a time.”
“I understand. Believe me, Mary, the last thing I want to do is complicate our lives more than they already are.”
Chapter Nine
#xa0;
“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.”
