Sex Story:Part 3

By: Bebe Wilde

An Erotica Short

For Those Who Long For Love


I never used to do it. Never. I would never do this, what I was doing now. I pretended it didn’t exist. I thought if I didn’t think of such things, I wouldn’t have to do such things. It’s like I thought I didn’t need it. I wasn’t that kind of girl. Now I know differently. I do need it. I have to have it. If I don’t do it, I go crazy. And I am that kind of girl.

But I didn’t tell anyone. No. I have never had a conversation about it. I’ve never said to another human being, “Hey, when’s the last time you masturbated? It’s been a few days for me. I just haven’t had the time.”

That wouldn’t be true and it’s not true because I make the time to pleasure myself. But, like I said, it wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always do this. I was partly afraid and partly ashamed. Why would I do that? Yes, yes, it’s supposed to be normal. Well, it is normal. It’s supposed to be something everyone does, self pleasure. But not me. I literally couldn’t do it. I mean, I just couldn’t. What I thought would happen if I did was beyond me. Perhaps I thought I’d lose control or something. People used to say that you would go blind or grow hair on your palms or whatever. Silly, if you think about it. I mean, what’s the big deal? Well, it was a big deal for me and though I didn’t have any fears of going blind or growing hair on odd parts of my body, I just didn’t do it. Besides, I had no interest in doing it and couldn’t understand why anyone else would either.

But all that changed one day and it changed because I suddenly came to the understanding that I was one uptight prig. Being a prig meant that I couldn’t enjoy myself or my life that much. It meant that I had stay in control at all times and never, ever loosen up. It meant I could not, under any circumstances, give myself pleasure. Fortunately for me though, I finally discovered what it was all about. My life’s not been the same since I did.

I can still remember the day. I was home by myself surfing the internet. I’d been sick, so I was home from work and bored out of my mind. My cold was finally subsiding and I was ready to get back to work. I closed my eyes, imagining the stacks of folders waiting for me on my desk and groaned. “If only I could win the lottery…” But I didn’t play the lottery, so that wasn’t going to happen.

Just then, I heard a noise outside my apartment door. When I opened the door, I saw a delivery man disappearing down the hall and a package on my doorstep. I stared at it. I hadn’t ordered anything. When I looked closer, I saw that it was addressed to someone else, a neighbor down the hall—Jill Daniels. She was a woman around my age—late twenties—and always kept odd hours. She worked as a manager in a bar/grill that my boyfriend and I occasionally went to. We were on friendly terms. She’d give us free appetizers and drinks sometimes and when she was out of town, I’d pick up her mail. We weren’t close friends but we weren’t enemies, either. We were just neighbors who helped each other out sometimes.

I groaned and picked the package up and went to her door. I knew she was home because I’d seen her car in the parking garage earlier when I’d gone out for cold medicine. After two knocks, she answered, smiling at me.

“They left a package for you,” I said and handed it to her.

She grinned and took the package under one arm. “Sorry, Lara,” she said. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” I replied and sniffled. “I’ll probably be back to work tomorrow.”

“Good, good, “she said. “How’s Eric?”

“He’s great, actually,” I said “Still working like a fiend.”

“You two should come down to the bar soon,” she said. “We’ve got a new bartender who makes a killer mojito.”

“Okay,” I said. “When I get over this cold.”

She smiled and was about to say something else when I heard a noise behind her. I looked over her shoulder to see a very muscular good looking guy with a towel barely tied around his waist. He casually walked into her kitchen, opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of water. I shook my head then noticed that she was wearing a short hot pink silk robe. How could I have missed that? It must have been the cold medicine. Even so, I blushed a deep bright red. I couldn’t believe I’d just interrupted them having sex! God, I was so embarrassed.

“Sorry,” I said. “So, so sorry. I didn’t know—”

She winked. “That’s okay.” She leaned in and whispered, “He’s the new bartender.”

I couldn’t help but look over her shoulder at the guy. Wow—he was hot. Wow—she was lucky.

“I’ll get going then,” I said hurriedly and started to exit.

“Here,” she said. “Take this. I don’t need it anymore. Have fun!”

And then she thrust the package in my hands and shut the door. What the hell was that all about? I stared at the door and then at the package. I started to just set it down on her doorstep, but at the last second decided to take it back to my apartment and give it to her later.