Nympho: I was a Cum Dumpster

When I stopped my therapy, I ceased my subway rides, and in retrospect, I think my mind had confused my travel to the clinic with part of my therapy. Thus, my promiscuity was satiated.

I began to have trouble sleeping, probably because I drank several cups of coffee daily. I purchased a life-sized -dildo at a sex shop, bigger than the one Kenny used on me. I would suck myself to sleep with the rubber cock in my mouth, a substitute for what now was a forbidden activity. Sometimes I'd dream I was blowing Dr. Funk and get all wet down there.

I didn't purchase the dildo but traded a fast fuck in the sex toy store's stockroom with the young man who was the cashier. He asked for a blow job, I told him I was off cock sucking (as I previously related), but I offered him a 'quicky-fuck' instead. The cashier was very agreeable to the change of terms, even picking out a bigger dildo than the one I had chosen and handing it to me in a fancy gift bag. I kinda liked that guy and told him I'd come by once in a while to check if he was still horny. He usually was.

Sucking on the rubber dildo at night seemed to give me some relief from my horniness, and I began to sleep better. I never thought to satisfy myself with the rubber joint; I had always looked to men to offer that relief.

When I gave up my promiscuity, which had reached record proportions, I had no way to satiate my horniness. I stayed home mostly, fearing going out and tempting fate. The one time I decided to get out, I made the mistake of going to a gay theater that was playing Brando-Bartoluchis' Last Tango.' I figured if the moviegoers were gay, I'd be okay.

Wrong again; that movie must have generated enough testosterone that the cinema smelled like a guy's gym. Before I knew what to expect, I was flanked on both sides by two, I must admit, very handsome gay guys, at least, I thought they were gay. Before we got to the butter scene, one guy was fondling my tits as the other guy weaseled his finger under my skirt and got his thumbnail in my sacred crevasse.

"Change fingers, I said; that one hurts, and as the theater screen darkened, the guy spun me around, and butt fucked me; what a surprise. The tit fondler, not to be outdone, worked his cock inside my pussy, and I ended up with his good-sized dick wedged in my jacuzzi. I was just beginning to feel some relief when a Chinese cinema manager arrived in uniform wearing a shiny monkey hat and broke up our love tryst.

General Chang Ki Chek took me to the front of the theater into a side office and demanded that I hand over my wet panties. He took them and held them to his nose. Some of the cum from the tit fondler was now clinging to his forehead.

"Oh God, that smelly good," he exclaimed, "now bend over the chair and take off your blousey," and with my nude butt facing him, he quickly got a hard-on and shoved it deep inside my already sperm-lubed rear. He didn't cum quickly, and I relaxed, figuring he was a slow finisher."

"Hurry up and finish the job," I said when it became apparent this whole thing was taking too long.

"Why honey bunch, you in a hurry," he pulled out and turned me around and pushed me down on a chinch couch,

"I save your pussy for last. Now I cum," the guy in the monkey hat said and shoved his five inches into the cat he had so named.

I expected a fast cum, but the guy took at least five minutes, and then, lifting my blouse, he began sucking my tits, and then he heaved and humped one last substantial hump that I knew was a sign he had finished fucking me.

"You good girl, he said and threw a hundred dollar bill on my tits."

"No need for that, I don't mind; you fucking me," he reached out as quick as a cobra snake and grabbed the green hundred back.

"You very horny girl, no?"

"Yes, I am very horny." (By now, I was speaking pidgin Chinese)

"When you want see picture show, you come here for free," and he handed me a bunch of free passes.

"Thanks, Mister."

"Mister Chang," he added. "Next time you give me a blow?"

"No, I'm off that sucky stuff, but you can fuck me if you like."

"That okay, I take free fucky."

He reached out to feel my left breast, pinching my swollen nipple as I was dressing, and then escorted me out the front door.

"Your titty get swelled up Missy."

"Yeah, that happens when I have sex."

"You be a good girl now. Go home, no hanky lanky. You come back, girly, next week; it's Valentine's Day."

"Okay, Mr. Chang." I pulled my jacket tight around my shoulders when the cool air outside the movie palace hit me.

I hurried home and found a letter in the brass mailbox from my shrink. I figured Dr. Funk wanted me to suck his cock, but no, it was a very professional referral and introduction to a free sex therapy clinic in the village where I could continue my cure. Then I saw a note he had written on the reverse side of the referral.

Dear Janet,

I miss your warm lips and tender attention. If you are free on Valentine's Day, I'd like to take you out for dinner and maybe a show. What do you say? Perhaps we can start to date.

Your Funky Doctor.

I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face, and the dildo clenched tightly between my teeth. Maybe dating a doctor wasn't a bad idea. Of course, I'd have to decide whether to satisfy the Doc or Mr. Chang, but I had a few days to figure that out that conundrum. One thing was for sure: nobody was getting a blow job, especially on Valentine's Day.

THE END

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