The Wolf Wears Fleece

"Tony, stop drinking. Don't promise to cut down, stop. You have a problem, and Ellie is sick of going to bed with a whiskey dick. So from now on, when she comes to bed horny only to find Jack Daniels in control of your cock instead of your libido, she's coming over to my house. You are a homeless bum, you just don't know it yet. Change is good, so change before you wake up in a gutter someplace."

Ralphie for some reason got a kick out of this, and made a crack about both Tony's fishing boat and his cock sinking.

"I wouldn't talk Ralphie. Your cock barely works at all anymore. Dude, you are so fucking out of shape Sheri winces at the thought of missionary with you on top. She says she can barely breathe. But she doesn't have to worry about it much, because your muffin top has grown past a spare tire stage and is now a like bag of basketballs. You can't reach her lovely pussy in a missionary position! So you two have to scissors or do a doggie, but you can't stay hard! Dude, your body doesn't have enough blood in it to fill the veins in your gut and erect your cock at the same time, so you've become a Mr. Softee. Her pussy was so tight and ripe when we went out it was like making love to a virgin. Get your ass to a gym, and skip the chips and dip, and the fried clams. Not being able to get hard is your body's way of warning you that you're a heart attack waiting to happen."

Needless to say, Joe had no wisecracks or snickers in store. Of course Joe and everybody else knew his deficiency. He was small. It wasn't his fault. It was genetic. I didn't a want to humiliate him for it, and since he wasn't wearing a chip on his shoulder, I didn't have a reason to knock it off. Carol had spent the month with me more because she mad at his carrying on at the parties like something he wasn't. Of course she felt bad for him that she was with me. She actually felt guilty. We rarely made love when she was with me, though she was quite vocal in her appreciation when we did. She had told me the other wives knew of his shortcomings, and when they swapped, they slept with him more out of a sense of fair play than attraction or desire. But she loved him, and loved how he used what he had to rock her world.

"Joe, all this isn't your style. You have a good woman who worships the ground you walk on, why would you even trade her for a night? She isn't going to stick around forever that way. She doesn't want other guys, and that included me. She took the month with me as a way to give you a wake up call, so wake up!"

That left Linda.

I walked over to her and took her hand. I slipped my other hand into my pocket, and drew it back out with her rings in my grasp, I slipped them back on her finger, and asked her if she would like to move back into the master bedroom. She began to cry, and I pulled her tight.

"I should have listened to you. Sex was awful with other men. I was nothing more than a piece of meat. You told me it wasn't love, it was just sex, and it was true. The problem is, it was the love that made the sex worthwhile. Please forgive me, I'm so sorry."

I did.

Of course I told her I had given the other wives had an open invitation to my bed whenever they needed it. They didn't though. Their guys realized how much growing up they had missed. They had a new respect for both their wives and for me. I was now part of a group that seemed to have put the entire incident so far behind us it was forgotten.

It wasn't.

We did get together for reasons other than drinking, eating too much, and embarrassing women. We all joined a gym and worked out with Ralphie. He is much more healthy and Sheri is too. She has this healthy glow. We all lost a few pounds and look better. We got together and fixed up Tony's boat. He rechristened it Ellie II after his wife, the charming Ellie I. Then we went fishing. Joe taught us all the finer points of making and drinking Espresso while we worked on Doug's car. The nice thing about classic cars is that the average guy can do the work himself. We did a ring job while drinking Joe's coffee, and we're so wired by the time we finished, we drove to the marina where Ellie II was docked, and went fishing too. Oh, and I told them the side bet was off. None of them had the legs to do a dress justice, and the thought of sticking my dick in their mouths was repulsive.

Remember how I said it wasn't forgotten? There were problems. Linda's readjustment was a problem, but not the biggest. It seems she thought that forgiveness would mean a reversion to our old life. She was forgiven, but things had changed, just as I had predicted. One of the things was Ellie, who had adopted me as her new favorite confidante. That wasn't a problem in itself, but she seemed to take great pains to dress provocatively when she knew I was going to be around. Sheri talked to me frequently as well. As hard as Ralphie was working, he still wasn't getting hard, and being her last good fuck had given me a certain standing in her heart...and other sensitive places. Carol was tired of espresso, and was fond of coming over to chat as well. And Sheri had flat out told me she wanted another month, or two.

Linda was bitterly jealous, and didn't want me socializing with the girls, especially when she wasn't home. I however couldn't resist, and was having a hard time fighting the urge to kiss them. And by kissing them, I mean devouring them. When a woman gives you a "boobs first and foremost" style hug and discretely reaches down to grab your ass while pulling you into grinding range, your thoughts don't exactly turn to wifey, that sweet young thing that threw over your monogamous relationship to experience other guys. So in the midst of the shared chores, the barbecues, the fishing jaunts and talks over tea, a new reality emerged. The old boys club gave way to the ladies who lunch, and the frat boy mentality crumbled before girl power. I was the lynch pin that held it all together, and I was rapidly dissolving.

You see I am a recovering sex addict. Linda didn't know. My employees didn't know. My mother and brother were the only people alive who knew. I had buried that little secret long ago, before I moved my business to this town.

I know there are those who don't consider addiction to sex as a problem on the level of other addictions. After all isn't everyone addicted to sex? Even people with severe social isolation issues get laid now and then, even if only by their own hand. Guys with ED take pills, or go oral, and those who abstain on strict religious or moral grounds often become freaks when they finally marry and discover the power of the human orgasm. They may be monogamous freaks, but a freak is a freak. But sex addicts are to average people and even freaks what Tom Brady would be to a Pop Warner game. We take freaky to the nth degree.

There are problems treating a sex addict. Think about it. An alcoholic cures his weakness by stopping his drinking. A drug addict gets clean. A smoker throws away his last pack. A compulsive gambler stays away from casinos and card games. It isn't hard to spot the problem treating sex addiction. A sex addict must control a natural drive, a body function, and the desire for (and right to) procreate and have a happy life with a family. A sex addict still wakes up with a hand and a hard on, and short of becoming a mountaintop hermit, he's always around potential partners. So those final steps are about controlling and taming the monster, not banishing it.

In the end of my treatment, Dr. Adams sent me to rehab. That was a risk. Think about it. A guy who wants to do nothing more than fuck 24/7 in a therapy group with others who wanted to do nothing more than fuck 24/7. 365. Plus, the counsellors were sex addicts in recovery who at their base level also wanted what we all wanted, a mass orgy on the floor of the group therapy room. But over a couple of months, I lasso'd my monster, and could even stand sexual jokes without losing it. I even propositioned Dr. Adams, in jest during my last follow up session. I don't think I meant it. Really! Well, ok, I did mean it. But I didn't think she'd go for it, and she turned me down flat.

When I met Linda, it took every ounce of conviction to not throw her on a bed and ravish her on the first date. I wanted Linda to last beyond a first date, and that gave me the strength to be a gentleman. That was the strongest lesson of my entire experience, valuing her enough to be a gentleman, and that caused me to quickly fall in love. Plus I was getting horny, it had been months! We married in short order (I told you, I was horny). She wanted to save herself for her husband, and I can't tell you how much I appreciated our wedding night. The difference between fucking and making love became crystal to me that night. You can imagine how her desire to try other men set me back.

It was my ticket to acceptably revert to my old ways. I was in a loving, committed relationship, but could fuck Linda's rather hot and spicy collection of friends. Part of me was ready to rumble! Guess which part. Too easy, right? The devil in me said "so what?" Look at all this delectable lady meat in this circle of friends. Dude, you've got skills! You can make them moo like the cows they are if you drop the psycho babble of the seven steps and just put out your best vibe. Their husbands neglect them, and if they are like most of the women in 5-10 year marriages you boned back in the day, you will be pushing buttons and owning them in no time.

I managed it with restraint, though. Someday I'll have to tell Linda about that dark chapter in my past, and how she tempted fate with her little swapping gambit. But right now, I have to deal with her friends, who have all gathered in my kitchen to plan a surprise party for Linda. A sex addict in a house alone with a group of women who...

...but that's another story.