Support Group Ch. 01: Chastity

Hi, everyone. This is my first time here; my first time doing this, so go easy on me, okay? I'm a little nervous. So, um, how do I begin? Well, my closest friend recently held something like an "intervention" for me. He showed me the path my life was taking and offered an alternative. I've never heard of a support group that requires an audition, but he suggested that I attend these meetings and try to get in. Oh, he's also my sponsor, and he suggested that I should write everything down to make sure I don't miss anything, so here's my story. I guess I should start at the beginning, huh? My name is Chastity Baker, and I'm a sex addict.

I wasn't always that way. A sex addict. In fact, back then, most people would have considered me very conservative; a prude, even. For those that didn't make it to the meeting and are reading this on the group's website, I'll describe myself. I'm a five-foot-four white woman. Blonde hair, blue eyes, amazing breasts, perfect ass - you know, everything the magazines say I should be. I never flaunted it, though. I wore sports bras and anything else I could find to make me look plain. I had developed early and became the center of attention at my school at the age of thirteen. I remember being embarrassed by all the boys openly staring at my chest or hitting on me. I quickly learned that I could avoid the attention simply by dressing differently. The embarrassment I felt for my body, however, never really went away. Well, until I met that certain someone...

***

"You have such a hot body, baby! And our anniversary is next week...c'mon, let's leave the lights on, just this once," my husband, Nathan, pleaded in the dark as he pawed at my large breasts.

"Nathan, no...you know I don't like anyone looking at my body. Not even you...it makes me uncomfortable," I replied, squirming as I felt the usual surge of guilt that accompanied refusing his desires. "I'm sorry, baby..."

"It's fine," he sighed, clearly disappointed, but nevertheless horny. He rested on top of me, his erection pressing against my privates. He pushed his full five inches into me and groaned in pleasure.

Nathan and I had been together for almost five years at that time, and we didn't have sex very often until recently. He and I had been trying for a couple months to get pregnant. I wanted a baby and Nathan went along with it, most likely just to have more sex with me. I never much cared for it, though. Back in college, just after we had given our vows, my friends used to talk about their sex lives. They made it sound like sex was amazing, but it never seemed that way to me. I wasn't sure if it was due to Nathan's ability or if my own inhibitions prevented me from feeling the supposed pleasure. Although I felt like I had missed the bus when it came to sex, I knew it made Nathan happy, so I pretended to enjoy it.

"Yeah, Nathan, that's it," I said mechanically as his short, quick thrusts stabbed into me. His hands moved from my D-sized breasts down to my slender hips, pressing himself firmly against me and howling.

"Oh, shit, Chastity, I'm cumming," he rasped into my ear. He panted heavily a few times, then lifted himself up. "Maybe this will be the one," he said, patting my belly. "Um, but there's something I need to tell you..."

***

Nathan is a business man for some company. I can't remember the name of the place, but he makes good money. We get along most of the time. When we argue, it usually has something to do with my prudishness. Unexpectedly, despite my insecurities about my body, I somehow found myself as a yoga instructor. Maybe it isn't the best use of my B.A. in Psychology, but we didn't need the money. It helped keep me fit, and it was easy to avoid attention when surrounded by numerous scantily-clad women.

If there is one thing about Nathan that really pushes my buttons, though, it is his gambling. He is one of those men who just doesn't know when to cut his losses. Though we weren't in debt, I knew that it was only a matter of time if he didn't get himself under control. His gambling, in fact, is the reason that I'm here telling my story.

***

"Baby, I'm sorry," Nathan said, concern in his eyes.

"I can't believe you," I replied. "You're telling me that you made a bet...for ME?"

"Well, you see..." he stalled, trying to think of an excuse. "It wasn't me, it was my boss! Yeah, Tyrell did it! I ran out of money and he wanted to play one more hand, so he said to me - he said that I could have all the money I had lost back if I won, but if I lost, he got a date with you..."

"I'm not going out with your boss, or anyone else for that matter," I stated sternly.

"I can't back out, baby, or I might lose my job! Please, you have to do this for me," he pleaded.

"Jesus, Nathan. It's a three days before our five year anniversary and you're forcing me to go on a date with your boss? You had better do something incredible for me on Sunday. If it'll save your job, I'll do it. One date with Tyrell."

"Actually," Nathan mumbled, "I kinda owe him...three dates. Tonight, Saturday, and Sunday..."

"On our ANNIVERSARY?" I shrieked, my anger rising again. "You're telling me that I have to go out on a DATE with your BLACK BOSS on our ANNIVERSARY? I should be spending that time with YOU! You're unbelievable, Nathan. Un-fucking-believable."

My husband looked at me with fear. He knew I never curse except when I'm really furious. I spun around and stormed into the bathroom before I did something I would regret.

"Um, I know you're mad," Nathan called from behind the shut door, "but Mr. Oswald is going to be here in a couple hours, so..." he trailed off.

I fumed in the bathroom, preparing the shower. This was by far the stupidest thing my stupid husband had ever done. I thought for a long time in that shower, the steamy water cascading down my silky white skin. I decided that, for the sake of Nathan's job, I would oblige his selfishness and meet with his boss for the next three days.

***

Let me tell you about Nathan's boss. Tyrell Oswald is a beast of a man. A man in his early thirties, he stands at a towering six-foot-two, rippling muscles covering his arms, chest, and legs -- it's no wonder why his nickname is 'Big T.' He keeps his face clean-shaven, and I don't think I've ever seen him wearing anything but a professionally tailored suit. The lumbering black man is an intimidating presence, and he clearly isn't accustomed to taking 'no' for an answer. Although very handsome, I am always inclined to think of him as a brute. He probably bullies those that are smaller than him, my husband included.

***

I clutched my purse tightly, sitting stiffly on the couch, dreading the arrival of my black dining partner. My chest involuntarily tightened when the doorbell rang. I shakily stood and clumsily walked to the door, my heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor. I opened the door and found myself staring into the barrel chested Mr. Oswald.

"Hello, Mrs. Baker; it's been a while, hasn't it?" the huge man said pleasantly with a wide smile.

"Y-yes," I stammered, "I think the last time I saw you was..."

"The Christmas party," he finished. "Yes, your husband sure was quite the drunkard, wasn't he?" The man laughed out loud, then went on to say, "Speaking of Nathan, where is he?"

"Oh, he left...I think he was a little scared to see you," I replied, feeling a little more comfortable around the amiable man.

"Scared?" Mr. Oswald guffawed. "Well, that's all right. Maybe I'll see him when I return you. You look lovely tonight, Mrs. Baker. Are you ready?" he asked, holding out his hand.

I looked down, not sure how to respond to his compliment. I had chosen to wear a long, black dress with a high top to cover both my cleavage and my slender, delicate legs. My golden hair stretched just below my shoulders. Anyone who looked at me would think I was just an average blonde girl with small breasts at best. It seemed, however, that Mr. Oswald knew that I was hiding something.

I reluctantly took his extended hand, stepping into the evening air. He shut the door behind me and I locked it, feeling his huge body near mine as I slid the key in and turned it. He walked me to his slick sports car and opened the door for me. I blushed at the treatment; Nathan hadn't held a door for me since we were dating.

"Thanks," I mumbled awkwardly.

"It's my pleasure, Mrs. Baker," the black man responded with a charming smile.

"So where are you taking me?" I inquired as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Do you like steak?" he asked, putting the key into the ignition.

"Yes, Mr. Oswald," I replied.

"Good! I know just the place. Let's go! And call me Tyrell," he said, taking off so quickly that my head shot back into the headrest. He laughed at my shock and made small talk with me.

We went to an expensive restaurant, the kind that servers walk around filling up wine glasses. The two of us talked at great length about many things, and I quickly realized that this man was not a brute or bully at all; he was more of a gentle giant, and a great conversationalist. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I found myself wrapped up in his words, excited just to hear him speak.

Dinner concluded and I was surprised to realize that I had actually enjoyed the evening. I began the night with dread, and now I was almost looking forward to tomorrow's date. He drove us back to my house, carrying on a lively conversation. We pulled into the driveway and he parked behind my husband's car.

"I had a wonderful time, Mrs. Baker," he said to me, leaning close.

"Me too," I giggled, the alcohol in my system making everything funny. "And please, call me Chastity! Enough of this 'Mrs. Baker' stuff," I added.

"Very well, Chastity. So, did Nathan tell you the extent of his bet with me?"

"Yep, yep, yep!" I said cheerfully. "Three dates," I said, holding up three fingers, "tonight, tomorrow, and Sunday!"

"Yes, but there's something else," he said, his arm slipping around my shoulder.

"Something else?" I asked with a smirk.

"These are real dates, Chastity, not pretend," he informed me.

"Okay," I laughed, "well, thank you for the real date! I had a really good time! Same time tomorrow?"

Tyrell nodded and smiled, quickly hopping out to open my door for me. We waved good-bye and I clumsily made my way to the front door then went inside. Nathan was fidgeting on the couch, a worried expression written on his face.

"You're home!" he said, standing upright and quickly walking to me, grabbing hold of my arms. "Mr. Oswald didn't try anything, did he?"

"What? No," I said, annoyed at my husband's apprehension. "Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do, of course I do," he said. "I just...I guess I realized that maybe this wasn't the best idea. I don't want you going out with him again."

"Don't be silly, Nathan. Tyrell is a gentleman. He isn't going to try anything. Besides, I have to do this for your job, remember?"

Nathan sighed in resignation. He knew I was right.

***

I remember that even though I had a great time with Mr. Oswald, I was still upset with Nathan for putting me in that position in the first place. I made Nathan sleep on the couch that night. As I laid alone in my bed, I wondered what Tyrell had meant by a 'real' date. I shrugged it off and slipped into a deep sleep.

***

The next day, I awoke to an empty house. I wasn't concerned; Nathan often went to the office on the weekends to catch up on paperwork. He usually came home around lunch, and that day was no different. We sat and ate, both of us feeling awkward around each other due to Nathan's poor gambling skills.

"Mr. Oswald said he'd pick you up at four today," Nathan stated, breaking the silence. He moved his fork idly through the remains of his salad. "He wants you to wear something a little more...revealing," my husband continued, getting stuck on the last word.

"Revealing...? Does he know about -" I began.

"Yes, I told him that you don't like dressing that way, but he insisted. He said he wants it to be a special night, and he made sure to remind me of my job security. I know you hate it, but please, Chastity, just this once..."

I sighed. "Fine," I said flatly. I glanced at the clock; it was just after two. "Shoot, I have to get ready; yoga starts in thirty minutes and I have a full class to teach." I retreated up the stairs and quickly changed. As I left said my goodbyes and left the house, I estimated that I would get home around three-thirty, leaving me just enough time to change for my 'date.'

***

Class passed quickly, as it usually does. The students thanked me and began heading toward the exit. I slid in towards the back of the group, blending in.

"Mrs. Baker," I heard a male voice call from the other side of the group. I looked ahead, trying to identify the source. I easily spotted the massive black man towering over the rest of the women. My heart pounded in both fear and excitement.

"What...what are you doing here?" I asked in mild shock. The women filtered past us and through the exit, leaving the two of us alone in the building. I tried to hide my embarrassment from him; I had expected the opportunity to go home and change, but here I was, vulnerable, standing in front of this muscular black man wearing skin-tight yoga pants, a thin tank top, and a sports bra.

"I dropped by early and your husband said you were here, so I decided to come visit," he replied. "Not happy to see me?"

"It's not that," I said, looking intently at the ground. "I'm just...not used to men seeing me like this." Ashamed of my appearance, I took a step back. Tyrell caught me, lifting my chip up with his surprisingly soft hands.

"You're beautiful, Chastity, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise," he said, staring into my blue eyes. I met his gaze and held it, wondering why his words meant so much to me. I had the sudden urge to kiss the bulky man. I leaned forward to meet his lips, but he backed away.

"I'm sorry..." I began.

"Don't apologize," he interrupted. "I won't tell Nathan. Anyway, let's go. I think you'll enjoy my plans for you tonight," he said.

After I locked up, we rode in his car to our destination: the old drive-in movie theater. It had been recently refurbished and the owners had added a little fast food joint where the food was brought by people on roller skates. We arrived at around four-thirty, leaving us nearly three hours before the featured movie would start. Moving to the back seat for the sake of space, we ate lunch (I was able to find a light meal offered by the staff) and talked about everything.

Once again, I felt myself enthralled in the black man's presence, enjoying our conversation. I didn't even notice the sun setting until it hung low on the horizon. We continued talking until a voice on the radio interrupted.

"Thank you for choosing our cinema," the voice said. It continued on, eventually announcing the start of the movie.

"You're something special," Tyrell said to me as we both sat facing forward. The previews began to roll, illuminating the large board in front of us. He moved his hand on top of mine and slid his fingers around mine. I thought for a moment about breaking the contact, but decided against it.

"Thank you," I said sincerely.

Tyrell squeezed my dainty hand in response, his fingertips lightly brushing my inner thigh and sending a shiver up my spine. We were watching a romantic comedy about a man who finds out his wife was cheating on him and his adventures with a girl he meets while drowning his sorrows. Although the premise wasn't my favorite, it was still endearing and funny.

About halfway through the film, Tyrell repositioned his hand, pulling mine to his leg. It laid flat against his muscular thigh, and I marveled at how well-built the man was. He moved his hand back to my leg, leaving mine on his. My heart was pounding as he leaned in closer to me.

"Chastity," he whispered into my ear. I turned to him, our faces nearly touching. He brought his hand from my leg up to my face, caressing my cheek. "I've really been enjoying our time together," he continued.

"Me too," I whispered back. My heart was beating so fast that I was barely able to utter the words.

"I think I want to..." he began, his lips getting dangerously close to mine. He quickly pulled away. "No, no, this isn't right. You're married."

My heart sank in disappointment. I was confused as to why I felt that way. He was right; it was wrong of us to kiss, and yet I deeply desired it. In that moment, I made up my mind. I leaned forward and kissed the man.

It was a passionate kiss. He cupped my face with his masculine hand, holding me to him, keeping our lips locked together. He moved his hand from my cheek to my neck, kissing me again and again. My hand continued to rest on his leg, and I instinctively began rubbing his thigh. He slid his hand down to my chest, cupping my right breast and forcing his tongue into my mouth. I accepted it, our tongues battling as we fondled each other. As I stroked his leg, my hand bumped into something large. I broke away from our kiss and looked down, trying to see what I had hit. It had gotten dark in the car, so I couldn't see very well.

"What was that?" I asked.

Tyrell chuckled. "Why don't you get down there and look?" he asked.

I moved my hand across the bulge, shaping it out. At first I thought it was his penis, but it was too big. He must have had something in his pocket that I hadn't noticed until now. I slipped my hand into one pocket, then the other. Both empty.

"Is there something in your pants?" I asked, feeling the object with both hands. "Look, I'm not trying to touch you or anything, okay? I just wanna take this thing out so I can feel your leg some more."

"No problem, Chastity. Go ahead and pull it out."

I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, leaving enough room for me to slip my hand under his waistband. I quickly located the object, wrapping my fingers around its fleshy surface.

"Oh," I said, my eyes widening, "is this...? There's no way that's your...your thing!"

"It is," Tyrell assured me. "That's my cock. Why do you think they call me 'Big T?' Go ahead and pull it out."

I gasped. This man put my husband to shame. His penis was at least twice the size of Nathan. I felt a sudden pang of guilt for what I was doing, but I knew I had to see this thing. I still did not believe that it was real. I unzipped his pants and worked the massive rod out, barely able to make it out in the dark.

"I can't see it very well," I said.

"Get close to it, honey. It won't bite," Tyrell replied.

I twisted in the seat and leaned closer, examining the massive shaft. Without warning, Tyrell grabbed the back of my head and directed my mouth over the tip of the throbbing member. I felt a warm fluid smear across my lips as the head brushed against me.

"Suck me," he said with authority. I hadn't done this since high school and I was uncertain of my abilities. Regardless, I obediently parted my lips, tentatively twirling my tongue around the dark mushroom. The tip boasted a well-defined, flared out ridge, and I licked all around it. Compared to Nathan, this monstrosity was unbelievably thick. Tyrell released my head and slid his hand down my back, digging his fingers into my round ass. He gently rocked me, pushing his meat slowly into my mouth.

So there I sat, balancing on my hands and knees as I sucked a cock that didn't belong to my husband. Tyrell leaned back into the seat, groaning lightly as I worked as much of his giant dick into my mouth as I could. I got probably five inches in before I couldn't take any more. It was less than half of his full length, but he seemed to be enjoying it, which motivated me to keep trying. I lost track of time as I worked the shaft with my mouth.