Confession Of A Nympho

Nidia’s (aka Lola) is what some would call sexually eccentric. Sex is always on her mind, and she can’t help it. It's just who she is.

My first sexual experience was with a stuffed animal — The peanut man, monocle, and all. I’d won it at a carnival when I was eighteen years old, and I’d advanced from humping stuffed animals to pillows.

Girls want to be lawyers, teachers, doctors, and princesses. I wanted to be a madam. I wanted to own a whore house. I thought that it was grandiose and all that.

I’d written an erotica about pillow-humping, which a group of the black community shunned by saying that I was a pervert.

Pervert? Does sex only consist of missionary, dick-sucking, and doggy style in the black community?

“And how did that make you feel?”

My revelation is interrupted by my psychiatrist.

“I was very much disarmed by the response, but I didn’t let it get to me. The feedback was jarring, though.”

“You know that you aren’t a pervert, right?”

“I’m not stupid.”

“No, you aren’t. You’re an intelligent, beautiful woman who’s very much aware of her sexuality.”

Jorge is a light-skinned, older, handsome brother who I’ve been seeing for a few days now. Seeing as in professionally.

He’s helping me to come to terms with this whole nympho mess. Sex is always on my mind, and I just want to be normal.

I sexualize everything, and I mean just about everything. “What’s wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. That’s what I’m here to help you to understand.” He says, straightening his glasses.

In my quest to normalize my life, I never really looked at Jorge. He’s handsome as hell, fit, and brilliant. I like my men to tower over me, and although Jorge is just a smidgen taller than my five-foot-seven frame, I’d make an exception and fuck the hell out of his ass.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Nidia?” He inquires.

“I’m thinking about what you would be like in bed.”

“You know that a sexual relationship can’t exist between a patient and therapist.”

“I can fire you. And then I can wait two years for you.”

“You can fire me, but who says that I’ll be available in two years?”

“So we are interested.” I counter with a devilish smirk.

“Nidia, do you want to move the conversation to a more professional nature?”

“Do you want to hear more about my pillow humping, or shall I move on to my latest attraction?”

“Who is he?”

“Or is it a she?” I inquire.

Is it?” He asks, clearing his throat.

“It’s a guy, an older guy. He was mean to me recently.”

“What did he do?”

“He yelled at me.”

“And what did you do?”

“I deleted his texts and stopped following him on social media.”

“All because he yelled at you?”

“I took his kindness as a statement that he was interested in me, and he wasn’t. I can come off really strong and possessive from the start. I don’t know if it spooked him, but it definitely pissed him off.”

“Are you going to reach out to him?”

“Nope. I backed off, and I don’t think that he likes me anyway.”

Writing in his notepad, I sit up straighter, trying to read his writing. Noticing my intense watch of him, he smiles and closes the notepad.

“I think you’re being immature about the whole situation.”

“He’s the one that yelled at me on his social media live.” I state angrily.

He could have just texted me, and I would have backed off. I don’t know what it is about these social media influencers that they have to make everything about views and likes.

“Maybe he was just heated, and at the moment, he let his anger get the best of him. Have you thought about his perspective?”

“He hasn’t responded to me since. So I’ll take it as he doesn’t like me and doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

“You’re sexy when you’re angry and being bullheaded. The bitch persona is befitting.”

“Whoa, that was very unprofessional, Jorge,” I state, taken aback by his bluntness.

His amusement at my tone and irritation makes him even more desirable. His quiet laugh reverberates through my entire being. Come to think of it, Jorge resembles my “social media influencer” crush.

My eyes stray to his chest and his strong arms. I wonder if his hands are rough, and a wave of lust washes over me. My gaze moves lower, and I try not to stare at the large swell between his thighs.

“Nidia?” He questions my extended silence.

What I wouldn’t give to climb atop his face and feel those sexy ass lips massaging my pussy as his tongue licks and sucks on my clit.

“Can I fuck your face?” I ask breathlessly with sexual delirium.

“You don’t have to ask.” His voice has become deeper, and I must squeeze my legs together to not cum from his statement.

“I’m sorry?” I question. Maybe I’m losing it, and I didn’t hear him correctly.

Getting up and moving closer to me, I’m stuck. I can’t move.

“I said, yes, I’d love for you to ride my face.”

Slipping out of his shoes, he’s standing before me, waiting.

In a hurry, I unbuckle his pants, and his hand on mine stops me.

“Slowly, we don’t have to rush.” He instructs me.

Yes, we do. I have to have his dick planted in me asap! Trying to obey him and keep my anticipation in check, my hands tremble as I unzip his pants.

“Let me.” He says, taking control and lowering his pants. I choke instantly at the sight of his dick.

The girth of that thing is unbelievable. How am I supposed to swallow that? Covering my mouth in an attempt to quiet my surprised coughing, Jorge doesn’t even try to hide his amusement.

He has a sexy ass smirk, and my skin becomes hotter. An ache has started between my thighs, and I start to squirm in discomfort.

Lightly touching my face, his finger moves the length of my lips.

His dick replaces his fingers, gently tracing the outline of my lips as his searing hot gaze turns the fire down below into an inferno.

Breathing in his scent, I lick the tip of his dick. Circling the head and teasing the precum from his dick opening.

Giving him a show, I pull back slowly, letting the thin string of cum drip down my chin.

My mouth is instantly filled with his dick and is stretched to the limits. I have to use my hands to lighten the load on my mouth.

Working my hands in unison with my mouth, I keep up a slow and firm pace.

“Lola…“ He whispers with his head back and his hand on my head as he guides my mouth on his dick.

His pace increases as he goes deeper, and I try not to gag. One hand goes to his thigh as I try to stop him from digging a hole in the back of my damn throat.

He’s punishing my mouth, and trying to take his strokes is becoming a chore. Tapping out, he apologizes for being rough.

My skirt and panties are discarded, and I pull him down onto the couch. Climbing on his lap, I rub my pussy against the tip of his dick.

My pussy juices saturate his stick, and I let him lead. His hand on my ass slowly guides my pussy down the shaft of his dick.

“Oh… shit… Lola…” He groans into my neck as I ride him slowly.

His hand is on my hips, and my hand is on his as I revel in the pleasure that his body gives mine.

“Daddy… Go deeper…” I moan as he sucks on my neck.

I can’t hold back anymore. I have to cum. The Rose vibrator is produced from behind the pillows and leaning back on one hand for support, the vibrations on my clit as I ride him send jolts of pleasure through my body.

“Mmmh….” I whisper in delirious rapture.

“Lola…” Jorge murmurs as he can feel the vibrations on his dick as I ride him harder.

“I’m cumming…!” I moan as the vibrations send me over the edge to a euphoric orgasm.

Waves of pleasure hit me as Jorge’s grip on my ass tightens, and his nut drenches my pussy walls.

I love when he cums in me. It feels so good.

He forces me to stop riding him until his dick stops throbbing and he calms down from his nut.

We’re redressed, and I’m straightening my skirt when a kiss is applied to the back of my neck. His warm body and strong arms offer me security as I lean into him.

“You called me Lola multiple times,” I say.

“Sorry about that.” He whispers as he’s focused on rekindling the fire again with his light kisses.

“Don’t break character again, Mr. Booker,” I say, facing him.

His small smirk is always a welcome sight. I don’t know how I will be able to let this man go.

He’s getting to close, and I can’t let that happen. I always get hurt.

George Booker, he’s not my fucking type, but I can’t stop fucking him. The man is really sweet, although he can be vindictive.

We’re both air signs, so I know how we can be. He has a temper that’s out of this world. And if you cross him, your ass is grass. There are no lengths that he wouldn’t go to fuck your shit up.

We’ve been playing this game of acting like strangers who meet and fuck for a few months now. The latest was the therapist and client, Jorge and Nidia. — Nidia is my alter ego and always my character of choice.

George slipped up and called me by my real name Lola, and I can’t front. I actually liked it.

I play this game with all my partners. It’s a way for me to stay disconnected so that It doesn’t hurt as much when we break up. It’s been working so far. But George is breaking the rules, and I’m starting to fall for him.

He never apologized for his outburst in his live, but I forgive him. Hell, if I want to keep having mind-blowing orgasms with this man, I have to move on from it and not do it again. — Lesson learned

“When am I going to see you again?” A text from my ex-friend with benefits comes through on my phone. He’s not too happy with my choice of partners. But then again, why would he be?

As soon as I started fucking George, his benefits were cut off. I’m a one-man woman. However, it’s a fantasy of mine to take on two men at once.

“See as in…?” I respond.

“I want to taste you.”

“We’ve been through this. Goodbye.”

I don’t know why he won’t just give up on his quest to “get between my thighs.” Our time may come again as soon as I figure out this mess with George and my heart.

“I’m hungry. Meet me for lunch? I text George.

“Sure.”

“What do you want to eat?”

“You.”

“That can definitely be arranged,” I reply back with a small smile.

“Hey, girlie.”

I’m at work when Kenya enters my office, looking freshly fucked with a smile that could light up the whole damn building.

“Who is he?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re glowing. Who is he?”

“Marcus from accounting.” She says excitedly, getting comfortable in the chair across from my desk.

“Marcus from accounting?” I repeat with disbelief.

“Yes, and girl…”

“Uh uh… I do not want to know all the sordid details.”

“Why not? It will give you some creativity and add some life to your boring-ass books.” She teases.

“Oh, please. George is giving me enough smut to write a series of books.”

“And speaking of… You’ve been keeping him a secret long enough. When am I going to meet him?”

I never let my friends or family meet any of my partners. They never last long enough to be doing meet and greets with my loved ones.

“Never.”

“I thought y’all were making plans to get married, being as how he’s been around longer than the others.”

I’ve been brainstorming on how to end it with him for a few weeks now.

“The dick must be amazing.” She adds.

If only she knew!

“I’ll be welcoming Q back into my bed soon.”

“No… but you like the new guy. What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t have time to go through the whole falling in love and fighting, and falling out of love and getting hurt process. We might as well end it while it’s great and on good terms.”

“That makes no damn sense Lola, and you know it.”

“We’re at work. Shouldn’t you be working?” I ask, ending the discussion abruptly. I don’t need anyone’s advice or opinion on why I’m giving up the best sex of my life.

“Bitch you’re lucky that I like you,” Kenya says with an attitude as she’s preparing to leave. I’ve ruffled her feathers for the day.

“Love you too,” I exclaim with a smile as she’s exiting.

“You smell good.”

I’m nursing a drink at the bar when a male’s voice addresses me. Q, we’re heading into knowing each other for three-plus years.

We’ve been on and off again fucking the entire time. He’s always my temporary bed warmer until I find another conquest to play the field with.

It’s his fault. He doesn’t want to invest in me, so I treat our relationship accordingly.

“Are you following me?”

“I’ve been knowing you for how long? I know all of your spots.”

His double meaning isn’t lost on me.

“You don’t drink, so why are you here?”

“I figured you would be here on a Monday night.”

He figured correctly. I don’t like people, and Mondays are usually slow here. But there’s a problem.

“Patron straight.” — And here’s the problem

Another male has joined us at the bar. I don’t even have to look his way to know who he is. His cologne is telling.

“And another for the lady.” He says.

“Thank you, but the lady can buy her own drink,” I say, finally acknowledging his presence.

“Chivalry isn’t dead. Women are just too independent to accept it.” He replies.

“Excuse you, but we were having a conversation.” Q states.

“No, excuse us,” I say, moving a seat closer to the newcomer.

Q is rightfully outraged but bows out by making a hard exit with no farewell.

“A friend of yours?”

“Something like that.”

Giving him an inspection, he’s looking handsome in just a button-front and pants.

“And the lady will have another patron margarita,” I instruct the bartender.

Those sexy brown eyes watching me with so much intelligence hidden behind them make me uneasy. My drink is served, and I try to put it down as quickly as possible.

“Do I make you nervous?”

My hand goes to his leg and slowly moves to his crotch. The bulge that greets my probing hands is gratifying.

“Just a little,” I say with a sigh of delight.

My hand is removed from his lap by him. The bill is paid. “You have a goodnight, miss.”

And then he’s gone.

Finishing off my drink, I rush outside, looking around frantically. “Fuck!”

An arm goes around my waist, and my scream is stifled by a hand. Struggling to get away, I’m dragged to the back of the building.

“Calm down. It’s just me.”

“Oh my fucking god!” I state, pushing him away from me.

Breathing hard from fright, my adrenaline is off the charts.

“You scared the shit out of me!”

My back to the wall, his hand comes to rest on it behind me.

“Now, who’s the one breaking character?” He teases.

I pull him into me, and the heat from his body turns me on. The back of his hand lightly caresses my face before his lips gently taste mine.

His scent drives me wild with need. And when he pulls away from me, I desperately pull him back. His kiss deepens while we both fight to get his pants undone.

“Turn around.” He directs me.

My back to him, the wall supports me, as I’m slightly bent forward. His rough hands pull my skirt up, and my panties are ripped off.

Inhaling deeply from his massive length invading my pussy, I relax into his passionate strokes. His hand’s on my shoulder as the other grips my ass.

His stimulating strokes send electrifying waves of pleasure through my body. Grinding back on his stroke, he almost loses control.

“Damn…” He utters while stopping to take a controlled breath.

Impatient with need, my pussy pulls and tugs on his dick with quick stiff strokes. “Lola…” He warns.

Not heading the warning, I continue my recklessness. And my reward is his nails digging into my shoulder and ass on his hard release.

“Oh… Shit…” He groans as his seed is expelled, wet and warm, into my pussy.

“You didn’t cum.” He tells me.

“No, but maybe we can finish this at my place?” I asked cautiously as I’m pulling my skirt down.

There’s a moment of silence before George responds.

“Are you sure?”

Am I? No man has ever been invited to my place except Q. This is big for me. It means that I’m expecting more. I’m expecting commitment and a title. — Fuck

“Yeah, I am.”

My place — George, ended up staying over for two days. He’s a patient and selfless lover. Our usual encounters have been casual hookups where we would cum fast and then leave. But now it looks like we’re playing house.

“I enjoyed our time together.” I text him.

“So did I. I’m going to hold onto the key for a while.”

“Keep it. I’m going to change the locks tomorrow.”

“Ha ha…”

“Lol…”

“See you tonight? Your place?”

“Sure.”

“I’m officially confiscating your phone.” Kenya and I decided to take our lunch break at the mall. Some new age health food place that we both know damn well that we don’t eat this shit.

But George is committed to eating healthier, so I thought that I’d try to be supportive.

“Your face has been stuck on that screen since we arrived.” Kenya admonishes.

“George,” I state.

“I knew it. Y’all are getting married…” She says in a sing-song tone.

“We’re just having fun.”

“A little too much fun if you ask me.”

“But nobody asked you.”

“Anyway, Marcus and I will make our debut together at the employee appreciation function. You should bring George.”

“That’s doing too much. We’re taking it slow.”

My phone is snatched out of my hand by Kenya, who proceeds to type a message.”

“You’re being childish,” I state, trying to reclaim my device.

“And… sent!” She exclaims, effectively dodging my attempts.

My phone beeps with a message received tone, and Kenya passes my device back to me. She has an expression of the cat that got the cream plastered on her face.

Reading the text, George has accepted the invitation to our company’s employee appreciation affair.

“You bitch.”

“You know that you love me,” Kenya says, laughing.

Her gaze lingers too long behind me, and her eyes narrow in suspicion. “What?” I ask, looking behind me.

“Is that Q?”

Looking in the direction that she’s watching, my heart skips a beat. It’s Q, and there’s a woman clinging to his arm.

“I swear that I’ve seen that bitch somewhere,” Kenya states.

“Come on, let’s go,” I advise as I gather my purse.

“Following my lead, Kenya and I try to make a quick getaway. Apparently, we weren’t as discreet as we’d hoped.

“Lola?” — Fuck

“Hi.” I greet Q and his “female.”

“Kenya.”

“Hey, Q.” She replies with her arms folded across her chest. Her amusement is evident on her face. She’s front and center of this spectacle — Live footage

“Don’t I know you?” She inquires of the woman.

“I’ve seen you in the accounting department before.”

Oh my god, really? I know that he did not purposely choose someone that I work with. — Well, not really work with, but we work for the same company.

“Oh.” This is all that Kenya can manage at the moment. The “accounting department” is a touchy subject right now.

“Jolene and I are about to have lunch. Do you want to join us?”

Do I want to join them? Motherfucker, no!

“We just ate, and we’re leaving. Our lunch break is over.”

“Okay, well. It’s good to see you again.” Q says.

“Maybe I’ll see you guys at work.” Jolene chimes in.

“Yeah,” I state with a grimace.

Taking my arm, Kenya leads me away before I temporarily lose my mind. I can’t believe him. You were just texting me about eating my pussy, and now you’re out galavanting with someone that I work with?

I don’t even know why I’m fucking upset about it. He’s not my man. But my temporary go-to dick has found someone else to dig out. And he’s not about to be dipping in mine while he’s dipping in hers.

“I want to watch her eat your pussy, while I fuck her.”

“Oh, fuck off!” I text back as I’m speeding out of the parking lot.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been distant,” George says from beside me.

My back to him, I snuggle up closer to him, and his hard warm body comforts me.

His fingers intertwine with mine, and his lips gingerly kiss my fingers.

“Why did you accept the invitation to my company’s function?”

“I don’t know because you asked. And I would get to spend some time with you.”

“What are we doing, George?”

“We’re in bed. I thought that I was about to get some pussy.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Are we just fucking, or are we exclusive?”

“Right now, we’re just figuring this shit out together.” — Meaning that he’s starting to catch feelings, which scares him?

I’ll accept that for now.

Slowly grinding my ass on his dick, his kisses move from my fingers to my neck. I love it when he does that. It drives me crazy! He knows where all of my sweet spots are.

We don’t take the time to remove our nightclothes. My nightgown is pulled up, and his dick is whipped out from the front of his boxers.

I’m wet and ready. There’s no need for foreplay.

My pussy swaddles his dick, and it’s a perfect fit. It’s his pussy, and he knows it.

I’m in love with him.

We bump heads a lot. He’s a Gemini, and I’m an Aquarius. We’re both air signs. We have strong, dominant personalities. It’s like dating myself.

We have control issues that I’m working to overcome. He’s set in his ways and refuses to compromise. I’m lost in my thoughts, wondering if I’m really prepared to deal with “myself,” a complete replica of me.

I can be a handful. Men have to be built from a different cloth to handle me.

To describe air signs, we’re petty as hell and stubborn. If we ask for something, just do it, and nobody will get hurt.

My motto for all of the negativity surrounding being petty is, “You call me petty like it’s a bad thing.” — I do unto others as they do unto me.

Although “daddy” is reckless with his words, he can be a sweetheart when he wants to be.

They say that an Aquarius is an ideal partner for a Gemini, but I don’t see how. We’re too much alike.

He’s frustrated with me, as I am somewhat with him. He’s like, “Yield bitch” and I’m like, “No, nicca, you yield.” — Lol, we’re spoiled brats. It’s our way or the highway.

It’s not intentional. It’s just who we are.

This connection is very interesting and amusing. I’m curious to see how this is going to turn out.

— How it turned out….

“This motherfucker ghosted me!”

“Calm down…”

I’m angrily giving Kenya my account of George’s mishandling of my heart and feelings.

“Maybe he’s sick and in the hospital or something.” She offers.

“I went to his job, and he refused to see me.”

“Well, weren’t you going to let him go anyway?”

“That was before I fell for his ass!”

I can’t believe him. I’m racking my mind to try to find out what I did wrong.

But in this situation, I’m mature enough to understand that it has nothing to do with me. This is a personal issue, his personal issues.

“Are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, but this is too funny. The one time that you try to have some kind of relationship with a man, and he ghosts you.”

It’s not funny, but chasing is a thing of the past for me. It’s time to heal, and then It’s back to business as usual.

“Well, Que Sera Sera…”

“What? Girl, are you okay?”

No, I’m not, but I will be.

“Whatever will be, will be,” I say before disconnecting the call.

Going to my bedroom, I close the shades, turn the television off and cry myself to sleep. — Motherfucker

EPILOGUE

Cut to two months later —

I’m at the market doing a little shopping when a quiet laugh draws my attention.

It’s low but triggering. My heart beats out of tune, and I have to take a few breaths to calm myself.

I release a small laugh and take another deep breath. He’s coming right towards me, and a glance at both of their hands reveals who they are to each other.

I’m not running this time.

She’s the first to notice my watch of them. Our gazes meet, and I hold her stare. — She’s pretty.

The gentle tap on his arm from her reveals my presence to him. He’s still handsome as hell, and I’m very much attracted to him still.

The many nights spent getting dicked up, down, and sideways by George causes me to blush, and I have to look away from his gaze.

“Hey, he greets me. It’s been a while.” — A while since you ghosted me and broke my damn heart.

“Two months, twenty days, twelve hours, and… thirty-eight minutes,” I state, looking at my watch.

“But who’s counting?” I add with a fake laugh.

“Gena, this is Lola, and Lola this is Gena.” He introduces us.

“And how do you two know each other?” She inquires, picking up on the fucked up energy coming from both of us.

“Your husband?” I inquire.

I’m given a warning look from George that tells me to tread lightly. His temper is threatening to rise to the surface, but I see something more in his stare. — Oh, he still wants me.

She’s watching me with suspicion and doesn’t see the lust that I see in his heated gaze.

“Yes.” She responds.

“Newly weds?” I inquire cautiously.

“No, George and I have been married for seven years.”

“How wonderful, and congratulations. He’s a “good” man.”

I’m waiting for George to interfere, but he chooses to remain quiet. — Which is so unlike him

“I’m sorry. How do you know my husband?” She asks again.

“George and I used to work together. When he moved on to a better position and company, I was devastated. He was a hard worker and dependable.”

“Oh, that sounds just like my George.” — Unbeknownst to the both of us, he used to be “our” Geroge.

“Well, I’ll be going. It was nice to meet you, Gena. And it was nice to see you again, George.”

I’m given a nod in farewell from him. I didn’t expect much anyway.

“She was nice.” I hear from her on my departure.

Smiling, I continue my shopping. I’m proud of myself. I could have fucked his shit up. But instead, I chose the mature route.

“Goodbye, George,” I say quietly as I pick through the fruits.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” This comes from a tall, dark brother with the most penetrating gaze.

Looking him over, my eyes stray to his basket, and the black and gold Magnum Xl condom box captures my attention.

“Hi, I’m…”

My greeting is interrupted by a hand on the back of my neck, and a hard hot body pressed up against mine from behind.

“Remember that it’s my pussy. See you tonight, your place.” George whispers in my ear as his fingers tighten around my neck, and I’m given a light yoke to let me know that he’s not playing.

He departs as abruptly as he appeared. I’m trying to regain my senses, as “Daddy” remembers just how I like it. — A little rough and dominant, and my pussy twitches in anticipation

“You were saying?” Inquires Mr. Magnum XL. — Not a damn thing!

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I state, heading to the nearest register with my purchases.

It’s been two long months. I don’t know what story he’s told Mrs. Booker, but his ass is about to be held hostage for a few days. I’m about to suck his damn soul out through his dick! — Cue the Mortal Kombat “Finish Him” line

Yeah, it’s about to be all of that!

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