Welcome to 2021

Like a lot of people, I was really hoping that 2020 was going to be a good year. At the beginning of the year, I had started talking to some new people who I was really into. I was feeling extra motivated to give in to my sexual desires and not feel guilty about them. I was ready to really enjoy myself and others. Then, the pandemic happened.

In order to stay safe, we had to stay in our houses and not see other people. I thought for sure this would only last a few months and then we would be in the clear. Eventually, cases would go down and the risk would be low. So, I did my best to just stay put and be patient.

For entertainment, I started using dating sites seriously again. I met a few people on there that I really clicked with. I was feeling hopeful again. Maybe something could come of this. One girl, who I really fell for, asked if I'd like to start hanging out in person but six feet apart. So, we started having little dates outside. We walked in the park, sat under a pavilion and talked, went out and got ice cream. Stuff like that. They weren't super exciting ideas but they were great dates because I was with her. After a few months, I ended up asking that girl to be my girlfriend and she said yes! I was so happy. Until that girl stopped wanting to hang out. We still send each other a Snap every day but I think it's safe to say that we aren't in an actual relationship. I was quite disappointed when that ended.

So, with that failed relationship, I began to focus on other people who I had been talking to. I conversed with a man from Ireland for a while who had me really lost in fantasy land but eventually, he stopped responding to me. I was also talking to a guy who was probably the most attractive man I've met all year. We had so much in common and he was incredibly sweet but as soon as I asked him out, he told me that he was poly-saturated. So, that was the end of that one. I had a handful of other people, men and women, who I continued to talk to but nothing seemed to come of it. I failed to even see the point anymore. This pandemic was obviously going to go on forever and I'd never be able to fuck other people safely again.

At this point, the year was three-quarters of the way over and I still hadn't sexed it up with anyone other than Husband since 2019. I wasn't even having sex with Husband that often because he was dealing with so much stress and anxiety from work and our sleeping schedules were completely opposite. I was feeling quite sexually frustrated.

I hadn't seen Jacob, my fairly regular FWB, in over a year. I missed his cock like crazy. We still sexted with each other occasionally and he continued to send me nice things to let me know he was thinking about me, which was lovely. Our friendship was holding steady even though we hadn't been able to hook up. That was definitely a positive thing.

Most of the other people who I had been talking to had gotten bored of me by this time. I tried to reignite the sparks but it seemed to be a lost cause. One person, though, had not lost interest at all. That was the Doctor, who I wrote about previously. He kept trying to get me to go out with him but I was feeling so nervous about it that I kept telling him, "Not yet." He finally talked me into it and something about him made me feel super comfortable. My walls came crashing down very quickly and after only three dates, we ended up fucking. Maybe it was the last ten months of sexual frustration that just couldn't be held back anymore. Maybe I was just really feeling the connection between us because our sex drives match up so well. I'm not sure why it happened even though I had so much anxiety, but I'm glad it did.

My feelings about that were very complicated. I judged myself for hooking up with someone during a pandemic, though I felt better about it because it was with a doctor whom I knew was taking extra precautions and understood the seriousness of it all. I was still a bit worried afterward, wondering if I had exposed myself by hooking up with him. But that was all just my brain being a jerk and flooding me with unecessary anxiety. I feel better about it now, though I'm not sure if I will be fucking other people anytime soon.

I haven't talked to the Doctor much since we had sex. He checks in every once in a while but he's such a busy person. I'm not sure if he really has time for me. I'm open to whatever it is going to become though. I do have other potential partners that I'm talking to right now. I'm not sure where things will go with any of those people but I do have hopes for the future. If we can just keep the spark alive through the rest of this pandemic, things would be good.

So, here we are on the first day of 2021 and I'm looking back on the last 366 days. After a very long dry spell, in which I hadn't met anyone that I really wanted to pursue a sexual relationship with, I finally found a bunch of people that I really wanted to fuck, however, I couldn't actually fuck them due to social distancing. After years of silently judging myself for wanting to slut it up with lots of people, I finally accepted my desires and felt ready to embrace them. But what was the point if I couldn't actually do it? After two years of searching, I finally found another girlfriend only for it to fizzle out due to not being able to be as close as we wanted to be. So many opportunities that were lost over the last year. What a waste. Last year could have been amazing. I had such high hopes about having sex with many different people. Instead, I had sex with only two people.

I know that I should feel grateful for those two people that I had sex with. I know there are so many people out there that have been alone all year and haven't been able to have sex with anyone. It's just really hard for my nympho brain to really understand that. It just wants all the sex. It's never enough. So, anyway, here's to hoping that 2021 has something wonderful in store for my sex life. Happy New Year. I hope 2021 has something great in store for you as well.

A Valentine's Day Fantasy

It was Valentine's Day but we had never really made a huge deal of it in the past. This year, we decided to go out to dinner. Things have been very busy and stressful lately. It was really nice to take some time to reconnect.

The food was wonderful and the conversation was even better. We started talking about our hectic schedules and all of the stress we've been under. Though, it didn't take long before things got very steamy. We talked about all the things we wished we could do to each other if only we had the time. I fidgeted in my seat. The more we talked, the more my clit became engorged. I wanted to touch myself but I was too scared that someone would notice. I rushed through my food, hoping to get some relief once we returned home.

On the ride home, we talked about what we wanted to do once we got inside the house. I kept thinking about his cock, imagining it sliding into my hungry cunt. I needed it so badly. I touched myself gently, on top of my clothes. My crotch was very wet. I let out a tiny sigh. Fuck, I just couldn't wait to feel him inside me.

As soon as the front door closed, Husband pushed me against the wall and kissed me hard. He wrapped his hand around my neck and I melted into him. He kissed the side of my neck, working his way up to my ear. He whispered, "Go to the bedroom, remove your clothes, lie down on the bed, and put on the blindfold. Wait for me there." I couldn't find the words to respond, so I just did as I was told.

It felt like an eternity, just lying on the bed in total darkness, waiting. I wanted him...no, I NEEDED him. It was all I could think about. I rocked my hips, imagining his cock filling me up. I moaned slightly, wishing he would hurry.

Finally, I heard the bedroom door open. My body quivered with excitement. "Please hurry, I need you inside me." He laughed a little and said, "Be patient, my little slut." I moaned again, he knew my weakness. That word always turns me to goo.

I felt his hand softly caress my leg. Then, I felt his other hand touch my thigh. "Oh, yes. Higher." I felt another hand gently touch my stomach. Wait, three hands? Before I could even process, a fourth hand tickled my arm. A fifth hand began stroking my breast. A sixth on my cheek, caressing my face. I moaned loudly. What was happening? A seventh hand grabbed my other breast and pinched my nipple. Then, one more hand grabbed hold of my hair and pulled, lifting my face to meet theirs. They kissed me hard. I tasted their tongue and I could tell it was Husband. "Oh, fuck!" I wanted to take the blindfold off to see who was touching me but I knew he wouldn't let me do that.

I was confused and excited, feeling as though I was about to burst. So many hands touching me at the same time. This had always been a big fantasy of mine, ever since I realized that I had a hand fetish. I felt like I was losing my mind. The pleasure was so intense. I couldn't stop myself from moaning out. I didn't want it to end. I felt like I was floating up into the clouds.

The hands caressed my body, moving all over until they had touched every spot. Every spot, except my clit. I arched my back, begging to be touched in my sweet spot. I could feel the wetness dripping out of my cunt, teasing me further. I cried out, "Please, I need to cum." Husband laughed again, "Alright, I guess we've teased you enough."

When I felt Husband's finger slide up the slit of my pussy, I moaned loudly. "Oh, fuck! Yes!" I was so wet, his fingers glided effortlessly over my clit. He swirled around it slowly and my breath became ragged. He increased speed slightly and I arched my back in response. "Please don't stop." He sped up a little more and whispered in my ear, "Cum for me, baby." I instantly felt a wave of pleasure flow through my body. I tried to hold back but it was too strong. I moaned so loudly that even the neighbors could hear.

As I was trying to catch my breath, Husband said, "Good girl. Now, we're going to take turns fucking that sweet pussy. I hope you're ready." Husband climbed on top of me, grabbed my arms, and held them over my head. The head of his cock teased the opening to my cunt. I whined, wanting him to enter me already. "I know how much you want this. You're such a dirty little slut," he said, as he shoved his cock inside me. He fucked me hard as he kissed me passionately. I was so turned on that I squirted all over him as he fucked me. I wanted to tell him how good it felt to feel him inside me but I couldn't form the words. I just moaned with every thrust. He let go of one of my hands, allowing me to touch myself. I rubbed my clit as he continued to fuck me. I could feel his cock throbbing inside me. When I started to cum, he fucked me harder until he emptied his load deep inside me.

When Husband got up, he said, "Who's next?" My body started shaking a little. I was so nervous but incredibly excited. I felt someone else climb on top of me. He teased my clit with the head of his cock, making me moan some more. Suddenly, he lifted my legs up on his chest and shoved his cock into my pussy. He fucked me hard and fast. I could barely catch my breath. My pussy was squirting everywhere, even on my face. I licked my lips and started to rub my clit again. I heard him say, "Fuck yeah!" I began to cum around his cock as he filled me with his cum.

The second man got up and a third man replaced him. He grabbed my legs and pushed them up over my head. Then, he slid his cock inside my greedy cunt. It still wanted more. He continued to fuck me slowly and I whined. I didn't want to be teased anymore. I needed him to pound my pussy. I rocked my hips, thrusting with him, making his thrusts that much more powerful. He cried out, "Fuck, you feel so good. I can't last long when you do that." I didn't care. What I really wanted was his cum, filling me up. I began to thrust into him even harder, rubbing my very swollen clit again. My pussy tightened around his cock as I orgasmed and he lost it. He moaned loudly and emptied more cum deep inside me.

When it was the fourth man's turn, he asked, "Can I flip her over?" Husband approved, so I flipped over onto my hands and knees. I wasn't sure if I could take anymore but I didn't really have a choice. I felt him squeeze my ass, then he shoved his cock inside me. His cock was so big, I was glad he waited to go last. He grabbed my hips and thrust into me so hard. I reached under myself and touched my clit. It cried out, feeling overspent. I just needed one more orgasm. I touched it anyway, hoping it would submit. I was so wet with all of the cum that was dripping out of my pussy. I rubbed it into my clit. I thought about how slutty I was being and it made me shudder with excitement. I felt a thumb rub my asshole, gently pushing inside my ass. It pushed me over the edge. I moaned out as I came hard around his huge cock and he came with me, filling my hole even more.

When they were all done, Husband told me to lie down and spread my legs. He said, "Wow, look at all of that cum dripping out of your greedy cunt. You're such a dirty little slut. I bet you loved that." I still couldn't form words. All I could do was respond with a moan of, "Mhmmm."

Born a Nympho

I have a very good long term memory. I can remember things as far back as when I was 2 years old. I vividly remember sitting in my high chair eating breakfast and watching wrestling with my grandpa. I loved Hulk Hogan. There are so many early childhood memories that have stayed with me all these years. This is how I know that I was born a nymphomaniac.

From as far back as my memories go, I was obsessed with masturbation. I was always touching myself. Not just because I was curious but because my vulva was always tingly and it felt so good to stimulate it. When I was 4 years old, I was playing in my mom's room. I found a Penthouse magazine on the headboard of her bed. I opened it up and was amazed at what I saw. My older sister ended up walking in on me and told my mom that I was reading her "dirty magazine." I got in trouble for it but I didn't care. I needed to see more. I started to sneak into my mom's room often to find any other magazines that I could. When I was 5 years old, I accidentally tore my hymen while masturbating. My finger went too far inside my vagina and it burned and felt very painful. I remember being afraid that I had hurt myself badly. I told my mom what had happened and she brushed it off and said I was fine. I was a little shaken up but that didn't stop me.

By the time I was 8, I started experimenting further by sticking toys into my vagina. I would insert Barbie legs, markers, crayons, doll hands, etc. During bath time, I would lie on my belly and slide my body up and down the length of the bathtub while touching myself. Around this time, my stepdad started watching porn in the living room. I would peek around the corner from my room and watch it without him knowing. I was so intrigued. Watching the people hump each other gave me ideas. I remember lying on the cement basement floor, humping the ground because the coldness felt so good on my genitals. I progressed from there and started to put dolls underneath me and hump them.

I continued to masturbate a LOT throughout my childhood. Even when I wasn't masturbating, I was always thinking about sex. My Barbie dolls were always having sex. When I was 11, I got my period for the first time. I had gotten some tampon samples from school. Instead of using them for their intended purpose, I decided to masturbate with them. When I was 13, I found my mom's dildo in her room. I couldn't help myself. I took it to the bathroom, washed it to make sure it was clean, and then stuck it inside my vagina. It felt amazing and after that day, I became obsessed with losing my virginity.

I got my first boyfriend soon after that. I begged him to have sex with me. We were only 13 and he wasn't ready, so he told me no. I harassed him about it a lot. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't want to experience that pleasure. It shouldn't come as a surprise that he broke up with me. I did the same thing to my next three boyfriends. None of them would have sex with me either. I felt like I was so horny that I was losing my mind. Sex was all I could think about. It was definitely an obsession.

Even after all of the masturbating I had done, I still hadn't achieved an orgasm. To be honest, I didn't even know girls could have orgasms. When I was 14, the room I had at my mom's house didn't have a door. I hung a sheet up to give a little bit of privacy but it didn't help much. My room was attached to my younger sister's room, so she would often walk in no matter how many times I asked her to knock first. My room was also attached to the garage, so my step dad was always walking through unannounced. He was a mechanic, so he basically lived in the garage. Because of all of that, I did most of my daytime masturbating in the bathroom. One day I was sitting on the toilet masturbating, as I often did, and I felt this intense build-up and then a very powerful release. Pleasure shot through my body and I felt like I couldn't breathe. I whispered to myself, "What the fuck was that?" From that point on, I started masturbating in very unhealthy amounts. I was having at least 30 orgasms per day. I would even go to the bathroom at school and masturbate there. I started to fantasize about getting raped just so I could finally lose my virginity. I felt so desperate. I kept hearing that boys are full of hormones and just want to get into your pants. But every boy I tried to have sex with kept turning me down. It was driving me crazy.

When I was 15, I started having a lot of phone sex with random people I met on the internet. They would call me and tell me about all the things they wanted to do to me. It excited me so much. I was finally getting some sexual attention and it felt amazing. It wasn't long after that when I started giving blow jobs out like handshakes. Every time I would find myself alone with a guy, I'd go down on him. I figured if I couldn't find a guy who would take my virginity, at least I could have a penis inside one of my holes. I couldn't even tell you how many guys I sucked off. There were so many.

Soon after I turned 16, I finally got a boyfriend who agreed to have sex with me. I lost my virginity and it wasn't a disappointment. A few days later, I even talked him into trying anal sex. I moved in with him 2 months later. We had so much sex. Throughout our 1.5 year relationship, there wasn't a day that went by that we didn't have sex at least once. I wanted to have sex every couple hours but that was way too much for him. I had to live with 1-3 times per day. To a normal person, I'm sure that sounds like a lot of sex. But it didn't feel like enough for me. I was constantly trying to grab his penis or suck on it. He got irritated and I didn't understand. I had always been taught that men always wanted sex. Well, apparently not as much as I do.

Throughout the rest of my teenage years and halfway through my 20s, I lusted after so many people and fantasized about having sex with them. I was always too scared of being thought of as slutty. Too scared of having the number of people I had sex with go into double digits. Too scared of STIs. So, even though everything in my body was telling me to have sex with as many people as I could, my brain told me no. Sometimes I feel thankful for that since being young and promiscuous can be a bad combination. Other times, I feel like I missed out on so many opportunities.

At this point in my life, I have let go of the worries about being seen as a slut. I actually enjoy feeling slutty or being called a slut. I don't care about my number of sex partners getting higher anymore. That doesn't bother me at all. I'll admit that I'm still terrified of STIs but I'm very into safe sex, so hopefully that will never be an issue.

The truth is, I lust hard. I'm very picky but when I crush on someone, it gets intense in my head. I can't stop thinking about it and if I can't have what I want, it's hard for me to accept. I love having sex with new people. The idea of experiencing a lot of different penises inside me is so exciting. I love sex with my husband. Our sex life is amazing. He pleases me like no one else ever has but I'm not sure I could go on in life having sex with only him. I know that if I did, I would never be truly satisfied. I'm constantly thinking about sex. I can't get it out of my head. Even in normal everyday conversation, I'm thinking about sex and wishing that's what we were talking about instead of whatever it is we are discussing. Most of the things that come out of my mouth have something to do with sex. I feel like I have a constant hard on. My clit is always tingling. This is just who I am and always have been. A nymphomaniac.