The Confessions of a Nymphomaniac – Chapter 17

Chapter 17 – The lost bet

Dear ladies, whenever you start making plans about anything, take a lipstick and write on your forehead: STOP! Instead of learning the hard way that planning your life is the sure way to…

…self-destruction, you might simply listen to my advice, here are my confessions!

I should now argument my theory. Well, you all know that I am a nymphomaniac. Due to this tormenting disease, arisen since early on in my life, I grew up faster and gained a lot of life experience. All the experiences I passed through were precious lessons I now share with other people through writing.

The first lesson I’ve learned is that making plans is firstly a loss of time and energy. Secondly, the result of making plans will undoubtedly lead to failure, whenever our expectations do not coincide with the reality. Thirdly, failed plans will give birth to self-stigmatizing, low self-esteem and deep disillusionment.

But most of all, making plans is really unhealthy. Still doubting? Let me tell you a story that made me form this opinion on making plans and hoping too much.

It all started one afternoon, when one of my crazy girlfriends and I went shopping in a great mall in Scotland. As we were talking, we saw an amazingly hot red dress, displayed on a retail store window, which made us both lose our breath.

‘Wow. I’ll go buy this one’

‘But I saw it first’, Beka replied. None of us wanted to quit the idea, so we agreed on buying one for each.

‘Sorry, this is the last one’. Faith was cruel. Although a little disappointed, we bought the dress and agreed on deciding later who to keep it.

At night, we went out in a famous bar here in Edinburgh, which was always filled with handsome guys. I was so horny, that everything I wanted was finding someone who could fuck me.

Getting laid is so much easier when you have a boyfriend, I thought to myself. But how could a nympho dare to hope something like that? Well, I hoped. And see where hopes leaded me.

We were sitting at the bar, dressed slutty, looking around for defenseless sex victims. I was determined to find someone cute and maybe even get in a serious relationship, only for the love of continuously provided fucking sessions.

‘Let’s make this night more interesting’, Beka said. She was as horny and willing to have fun, as I was.

‘Oh, no. You have that look on your face’

‘Believe me, it’ll be fun! Whoever picks up first…’

‘I knew it’, I laughed, interrupting her. ‘You want to bet on who gets laid first’

‘Come on, it’s fun! Whoever will be the first one to leave home with a guy, gets the dress!’

Her proposal seemed quite fair. Whoever was enough charming that night, could have kept the dress. Beka went on a different side of the bar, so to avoid being picked up at the same time or by the same guy.

I knew Beka was a very beautiful girl, but I bet more on my nymphomaniac smell, which always made me more approachable to men than other girls. Beka and I were looking at each other and smiling, waiting for someone to flirt with.

All of a sudden, a guy approached Beka and told her something at the ear. Beka looked at me and laughed. I did not hear what they were talking, but I knew the bet was lost. I turned my back on them and ordered a tequila shot, to drown my sorrows.

‘Hi. Mind if I join you?’

Bang! There was my only chance of winning the bet, and one of my chances to get laid fast, wearing a nice suit and some too-worn-out shoes! I knew Beka was about to leave home with her prey, so I took the risk and skipped the introduction part.

‘Join me…home? No, I would not mind’, I replied laughing, to test his reaction.

As soon as Beka saw me with a man, she became tense, pressuring her partner to leave. However, a straight quick response suddenly put an end to our stressful bet.

‘Sure, let’s go’, my guy replied. YES! I took him by the arm and left the restaurant with a satisfied smile on my face. I could never forget Beka’s disappointing open-mouthed expression.

‘Where do you live?’

‘Only a few streets away. We are almost there’

The guy was cute and funny, in his late 40’s. His eyes revealed me that he was extra-horny and eager to get some action. Me? I was double impatient! Oh, the way he was watching me changing gears, revealed so many of his naughty fantasies!

As we got there, the scent of victory was all over my room. I knew exactly what I had to do. I took off my slutty clothes, my shoes, my big earrings and jumped into bed. The guy, (let’s call him Mr. B, in case he ever reads this story), took off his shirt and jumped on me, like a passionate self-confident macho.

‘You turn me on so much’, he mumbled, rubbing my tits. ‘I love your big boobs’

‘Tell me more’

‘I would love to fuck you between them’

‘Oh, yeah.’ The guy had a very good intuition. Dirty talking was one my favorite arousing pre-sex ideas.

‘I am too horny for this’, I replied taking off his pants. Titty fucking when my pussy screamed for sex?! No  way! All I wanted was to feel his strong cock inside of me, his manhood rubbing against my vaginal walls.

But, surprise! What do you think? When I touched his cock, in order to stick it in my wet and impatient hole, it was as…flaccid as a dead jelly. Okay, a jelly cannot be dead, but you got the point. IT WAS HORRIBLE!

‘What the fuck’, I exclaimed shocked.

‘Sorry’, he said, shyly hiding his cock inside his panties. ‘It happens sometimes’

‘It happens…what? You let me think that you were very aroused’

‘I am…mentally’

After several minutes of anger, I understood. The guy faced erectile dysfunctions. But why did he join me home, to fuck me, when he knew he did not have a healthy tool for it?!

‘Relax, it’s ok’, I said, trying not to freak out anymore.

I did not want to compromise the entire night, so I decided to let my miraculous mouth make a magic trick with his cock.

‘Uh, it’s so tasty’, I moaned while licking his small jelly, hoping that it will finally grow up.

As I was sucking his cock as passionately as possible, he laid down on his back, with his eyes closed. The fact that he was not looking at me, while I sucked his dick, made me a bit angry. Was he too shy to look at me? Nope, don’t think so.

After several minutes of sucking his manhood in vain, the small piece of jelly finally seemed to come to life! Success! Now it was time for some action. I knew 30 seconds of fucking my pussy would have been enough for a nice orgasm. That was everything I wanted.

But faith was cruel that night. As soon as I wanted to stick his cock inside of me, it…died. Yes, it died, right before burying it into my vagina.

What did I do? I kicked him out! I got so angry that I kicked him out of the house, without other explanations or excuses. I know you all call me a bitch right now, but you don’t know how it feels to be a nymphomaniac, to be turned on so much, and then to be left hanging?

The entire situation felt like taking a bullet right between my legs. After he left, I took the dildo out of the drawer and stuck it inside my vagina several times, until I reached a quite satisfactory orgasm. However, a cold tasteless dildo cannot compare with a warm erect cock; neither did my orgasm.

So, do you see why making plans and having expectations is unhealthy? I had many plans and so many expectations that night, which simply did not materialize, leaving me only with a serious stomachache.

Well, this was a less arousing story. I did not get a good fucking, I did not make a boyfriend, but eh…At least I got the dress!