Nymphomania Pt. 01

Her step-kids returned at 9am on Sunday, somewhat rested although both admitted that they had trouble sleeping, thinking of their father lying in a coma in this hospital bed. They managed to persuade their step mum that she should go home and get some proper sleep. They assured her that they would stay by Mark's bed all day and that they would call her if there were any change in his condition.

She did as they asked and drove home. It saddened her to enter their large home to find the 'Happy anniversary' banner still up over the front door and some signs of the party that she had been forced to leave so suddenly last night, although at least her friends had attempted to clean up. Lisa was still in the slinky black dress that she had picked out especially for Mark's return last night.

She took in her reflection in the mirror as she stepped out of it and was further saddened to see the new lingerie that she had splurged on to make her husband's homecoming extra special. She had bought a new garter belt and nylon stockings and the most minimal G-string she could find. It would have left nothing to Mark's imagination, but she would have so relished him removing it last so he could see his attractive wife naked. Now, only she could admire how the lingerie ensemble looked on her. In spite of her grief, she managed to steal a moment in front of her bedroom mirror to admire how she looked in the new lingerie from all angles.

Then she removed those too, and her bra, noting that her nipples were still just a bit aroused. She thought back to the young intern, 'Yes, he would have soothed this itch I feel very well.' She slipped a finger down between the tops of her thighs, swiped it between the lips of her pussy. It came up very wet as she stared at that finger, 'Oh yes, I am definitely going to need some action, let's see what my toys can do for me.'

She walked across to her bedside table, selected two of her best insertables and lay down on her bed, now completely naked. She picked up one of the battery-operated gadgets and ran it down and back up between the lips of her pussy. 'Oh my God, that feels so good,' she thought as she felt her body responding immediately, a pulsing starting somewhere deep within. 'Not as good as a real live cock made of man flesh, but at least this will hold me over for a few hours, hopefully a day or so ... at least I hope it holds me that long.'

Her vibrator crested her up to a peak and then sent her body crashing over, trembling through an orgasm while lying alone in her marital bed. She managed to sleep for a few hours after that, then woke and had a late lunch. 'Is this what my life is going to be for the next few weeks? Long vigils by Mark's bed at the hospital, alternating with desperately seeking relief for my sexual fantasies, with an occasional meal added to break up the days.'

Lisa was back at the hospital Sunday and Monday nights, it seemed best for her to cover the night shift. There were enough able-bodied family members to sit with Mark through each day ... the kids, Mark's parents, his brother and sister-in-law, even a cousin or two that had some free time.

She dragged herself back home around 9am on Tuesday morning after Mark's mum came to the IC unit to sit by her son's bed. Lisa got herself some breakfast and thought about going to her bedroom, but she knew that all that greeted her there was a drawer full of battery-driven toys. Instead, she showered and dressed and went downtown to the shopping mall for some retail therapy. She needed to get away from the ritualistic routine that she had found herself in.

At this stage, I think it might be best for me to hand it over to Lisa so she can take up her story herself.

Chapter Two

Lisa Relates Events from here

I shopped for a while and caught up for lunch with my very best friend. Carla is the same age as me (39), and her husband, unlike my much older Mark who's 53, was in his late 30's. Having been at the party when the news came through, Carla was anxious to hear from me how Mark was doing. I filled her in on the latest medical report, "The doctors are quite confident that he will make a full recovery, which of course is great, but he'll be there for a few more weeks yet. Oh God Carla, I am going up the wall, I wish I could get him home with me, I miss him so much."

"Listen to you," responded Carla, "I know what you're like honey, you're missing his damn cock, aren't you? Go on, admit it Lisa, you're always telling me how much you two have sex. I always thought that Brad and I did it a lot, but you and Mark, my God girl, you must be insatiable."

Although Carla had been my best friend since our airline days together, I had never been able to bring myself to tell Carla of my sexual addiction diagnosis. I was content to let my friend think that I was just a naturally horny lady. Now at this moment, feeling very alone with Mark stuck in the hospital, I felt I needed someone to confide in about my present problems. I was at last contemplating revealing my condition to my best friend, having her understand what I was now going through.

"Carla," I began, probably giving my friend a funny look.

"Good God Lisa, what is it, you look so serious?"

"Carla, I have never told a soul about this, other than Mark, he is the only one other than the doctors that knows. I know you probably think that I'm quite a slut in bed, the way I tell you how Mark and I make love every night, and I do mean EVERY night. But there is a valid reason for it, a medical reason. I was actually diagnosed some years ago as having a medical problem, the doctors call it a condition. It's known as hypersexuality ... basically it means that my mind is always dwelling on sexual fantasies and my body has this need, this craving, to be sexually satisfied virtually every day."

"Oh Lisa, that's amazing, is it catching, how can I get it too?"

Carla was laughing but my serious face stopped her fun short.

"No, it's not funny Carla, you might think it sounds like a bit of fun, but actually it is quite frightening at times. When I become really desperate to have a man filling me, I get worried what I might do or who I might try to connect with just to satisfy the itch, the cravings. I am so lucky that I have Mark in my life, he's always been such a horny guy from the day I first met him. He keeps me sane by screwing me as often as I need. It just gets a bit rough when he goes away ... and then this time, he was away for 10 days and I was already climbing the walls before he came back, and then there was the accident on Saturday night so I still haven't had proper sex. It's been at least two weeks now. Oh Carla, I was sitting beside Mark's bed in the hospital about four on Sunday morning and actually holding his cock just to try to comfort me and him. This young doctor came by to check on his progress and I became seriously worried that I might jump his bones, right there in the IC unit alongside Mark as he slept in his coma."

"Lisa, it sounds like you are a nymphomaniac."

"I am Carla, I am, that's the popular name for the condition I've got."

"Oh sorry, I always just thought that's what they called some women who were always in heat."

"No, nymphomania is another term besides hypersexuality, it is all a real medical condition with serious consequences. Having orgasms makes me feel a whole lot better, but only for a while, then the desires and the fantasies come back."

"What do you think you'll do about it Lisa?"

"I really don't know. I find I'm masturbating about three times a day, giving my vibrators a real workout, although even they aren't cutting it for me ... they only scratch the surface. What I desperately need is to have a man's real live cock deep inside me. As I said, it's been 2 weeks since I last had Mark's. I am worried what I might do, worried that I'll get so desperate that I might approach some stranger in the street and ask him to fuck me."

"Oh my God Lisa, you can't do that."

"I know I shouldn't and I hope that I won't, but Carla, you couldn't comprehend how desperate this hyper thing makes you. I have these colourful sexual fantasies all through the day. See, have a look over there at that table, see that handsome man harmlessly sitting there, innocently reading a magazine while having his lunch? Well, the way this thing gets to me, I could stand up and rush over there, tear his clothes off and have him do me on the café floor. That's how hot I am for it right now and so long as he got me off, I wouldn't give a damn how it looked to anyone else. I'm telling you I have a river running down between my thighs. I'm having to change my panties a couple of times a day."

We went on debating my condition some more, but it was almost a futile exercise. While it felt better for me to unburden to my best friend and Carla was genuinely extremely sympathetic, we couldn't come up with any immediate solution to my problem. When we'd finished lunch, Carla suggested, "Listen Lisa, I want to help you cope while Mark's in hospital, and I'm sure Brad would be equally eager to help too when I tell him what you're going through."

"Oh no Carla, I don't quite know what you mean by Brad being eager to help, but I really wouldn't want you to tell Brad about me and my condition. I'd be so embarrassed for any man to know what I'm going through."

"Honey, Brad would be very sympathetic, he really is a deeply compassionate man."

"Carla, I'm sure that he might be, but the less people who know about this, the better."

"Lisa, we've been friends for so many years now, I'm amazed that you've never told me before. If you weren't hurting so much inside from this, I'd be pretty pissed off at you and giving you a hard time about never confiding in me previously. You know you can trust me."

"Yes I do, and I wanted to tell you several times, but I always chickened out. It can sound so sordid, so slutty. It's been good since I married Mark, he manages to keep me sane. But when I was single before Mark, you might recall that I seemed to have a few different guys around. That was how I dealt with the sexual fantasies and cravings ... always having someone to fill the gap, as it were."

"Honey, I won't tell Brad if you really don't want me to, but I would like to discuss it with him, see how we might be able to help you out."

"Thanks sweetie, that's very kind of you, but hopefully I'll get by." Mischievously, my mind wandered through that train of thought, 'Surely Carla isn't thinking of the real contribution Brad could make at my house.' No, forget that fantasy nonsense, Carla and Brad are my long-time friends, the prospect of him helping me out sexually is just too preposterous to contemplate. I forced myself to steady my thoughts, "The lawns and pool do need attention, but it's a big property, I wouldn't expect Brad or anyone else to do all that for nothing. I am thinking of hiring some young guy to come in and keep it all spick and span until Mark's back on his feet."

"Well, as I said, you've only got to ask honey, Brad and I are here for you."

I thought about heading home. Mark had recovered well after his business partner took off with the 200 grand and his first wife. Now, we live in this big, impressive two-storey house with an acre of grounds. It's almost like a rambling estate. Mark has always taken care of the property himself, he has a ride-on mower for that purpose, but lately he's even suggested that maybe we should hire a pool/lawn guy.

I've had the thought of hiring someone several times since the weekend, but having told Carla of my plan over lunch seemed to formalise the idea. But even as I thought of how to go about hiring a young man to do lawns and the pool, a sinister carnal fantasy was already building in the inner reaches of my mind. Still wracked constantly by the sexual fantasies and desires, my mind wandered to whether I might find a young man who could multi-task ... do the lawns, the pool and me, all in one visit. Given how long Mark is expected to be in hospital, I could be forced to find a male - some male, any male - to satisfy these lustful cravings ... and it had to be soon.

I stopped by the supermarket to get a few things on the way home. While there, I spotted a community board on which local trades people could post notices on the services offered. I scanned the array of cards and found two that sounded like they could be suitable and tore off the detachable bit with the guys' contact numbers.

When I arrived home, I called both and asked them each to call around at separate times so I could adjudge their suitability. While my sexual fantasy about screwing the pool/lawn guy was manifesting itself at the back of my mind, my natural fidelity to Mark made it hard to know how I could actually bring myself to start something of that kind.

The first guy came around straight away that afternoon. He was young, only 18, the same age as my stepson, 'My God, he could even be a friend of his,' I reflected as I checked him out physically ... on the surface that is. My assessment: too young, and possibly inexperienced sexually too. I thought he looked a bit nerdy, definitely not a young man who might feature in my vivid fantasies. I thanked him for coming over and told him that I would call if I decided to let him mow the lawns and clean the pool.

See, in spite of my urgent sexual cravings, I still managed to keep a calm head and didn't rush in to grab the first young man to cross my path in a long time.

I was forced to wait yet another day for the second young man to arrive. That meant yet another day of vibrators and dildos and a rampaging thought train that dreamed up even more sexual fantasies with men whose faces I didn't even know. My condition was worsening. But at least I got some good news from the hospital ... the doctors were expecting to rouse Mark from his coma by the weekend.

The second young man came around to the house at 1pm on Wednesday, quite a good time because the step-kids were off at college and work respectively until 6 that day. I cannot deny that as I waited for the young man to arrive, I was still nurturing evil thoughts in my mind. I even dressed provocatively for a 39-year old woman to greet a young potential employee around half my age.

The weather was good ... quite warm, so I put on this bikini bottom that was so tiny that it was just as well I shaved my pubes or there would have been a few stray short and curly's hanging out. Not bothering with the bikini bra top, I instead slipped on a sky-blue halter top that only just covered my ample breasts. Did I mention that never having breast fed children, mine are still quite perky nearing 40?

With the young man's arrival imminent, I checked myself out in the mirror, 'Oh my God, am I being too obvious?' I wondered, looking at my reflection and liking that I saw a hot woman looking back at me. But how sound was this idea of mine?

The sound of the doorbell jolted me back to reality and I hurried downstairs to open the front door. I was greeted by the pleasant sight of a quite handsome young man, about 5-10 tall, who looked to be in his early 20's. He could not have known my intentions, yet he appeared to have dressed similarly briefly to me for the occasion. He was wearing what might have once been denim jeans, but now cut-off to be short shorts with frayed edges where they had been torn or cut, and surprisingly he wore no top. My eyes were drawn to his hard rippling 6-pack abs, a fine muscular frame that looked to be honed in a gym.

'God, he's perfect,' I thought, 'exactly as I fantasised.' Was that a double take I detected on the part of the young man in front of me ... I guiltily wondered if he might have observed me having a double-take. I was sure the sight of the bare-chested young man who greeted me at my front door caused some visible reaction in my face, my eyes, particularly given the way my mind had steered this process.

"Please come in," I said, standing back and holding the door wide open, "you must be Joshua."

"Yes hi, my friends call me Josh."

"That's good, then I'll call you Josh so you can consider me your friend." Straight up, I was aware how stupid that must sound coming from a 39-year-old woman - a potential employer - to a young man of early 20's. Ostensibly, he wasn't here at my house to become my friend, ... well not yet at least. He was just here to clean the pool and do the lawns. The friend part was all up in my brain and would come later, just as I hoped I would ... cum later, that is.

I showed him into the kitchen and we sat across from each other at the table. He told me of his experience at mowing lawns and cleaning pools, although I would have been more interested in hearing of whatever experience he may have had with women. He was a college student studying medicine ... how ironic is that, given where my husband currently lies. He was indeed 22 and he was of course doing odd jobs for people to help pay his way through his medical studies.

Without hesitation, with those credentials - and given that he had arrived at my house bare-chested - I told him he was hired and showed him out to the backyard, instructing him on how the ride-on mower worked. I left him to work up a sweat mowing our expansive lawns first while I went over to the pool.

Young Josh was out of sight on the mower so I playfully discarded my halter top to enjoy a quick topless dip, swimming several laps. Then, leaving the halter top off, I lay face down on a sun lounge by the pool to work on my tan.

I actually drifted off to sleep in the warm sunshine, no doubt due to the long nights I was spending at the hospital beside Mark's bed. A sprinkle of cool drops of water in the middle of my bare back startled me awake and I half raised my body up from the sun lounge before realising that my breasts were uncovered.

"Are you splashing me?" I asked with mock indignation on turning to see the young bare-chested man, sweat running down his chest and into his shorts, standing beside my sun lounge.

"Sorry Mrs Mitchell, I needed to wake you to tell you that I've finished the lawns and I'm about to start on the pool if that's okay with you. I splashed you because I felt awkward, I thought I might startle you if I actually touched you."

"Oh Josh, you don't know me yet, I've never been startled by any man touching me," then I paused, unsure again whether that had been an appropriate thing for a 39-year-old near naked woman to say to a 22-year-old college student wearing only shorts, sweat running in rivulets down over his chest. I quickly reverted to the subject, "So you've finished the lawns already, hey that was super quick."

He ignored my touching comment, "I don't mess around Mrs Mitchell and with that ride-on mower, it becomes a quicker job."

"You look to have worked up a sweat from the mowing, can I get you a cool drink before you start on the pool, Josh?"

"That would be nice Mrs Mitchell, thanks."

Still half raised up from the sun lounge and leaning on my elbows, I did feel a bit self-conscious that this young man would be able to clearly see the side and the rounded curve of one full hanging breast, could most likely even see that nipple from where he stood. I looked around me, searching for the halter-top that I had shed when I took a dip in the pool. It was way over by the pool edge.

Josh obviously saw me looking about, "Can I get you something Mrs Mitchell?"

"I left my top way over there."

"Do you want me to go get it for you?"

It was interesting that when I told him where I had left my halter-top, the young man didn't pick it up and bring it to me, but rather, he asked if I wanted him to get it. Could he be tuned in to my sexual wavelength already? Did this young man want to discourage me from retrieving the top myself so that when he brought it to me, he could get a better look at my breasts up close? Or was I fantasising some more?