Forced into anger management therapy, Linda admits her shameful secret — she's addicted to sex, and can't think straight without multiple climaxes a day! When her therapist makes a naughty suggestion, her eyes turn to her son. Can Ryan really help her out? Or will he be disgusted by her taboo suggestion?
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
Linda took a deep breath. All the way home, ever since Dr. Feller had dropped her bombshell suggestion, she had been careening between numb shock and a hot, sick excitement. “How much do you know about my anger issues?”
Ryan blinked, and his frown eased a bit. “Well, I know you started getting angry before you and Dad split up,” he said slowly. “But I thought that was mainly because of…well…you know. Your relationship.
“But you still had problems, even after the divorce.” She nodded, and he went on, encouraged. “You were never happy about your work. You would come home, and I could tell that things were bad for you. You got laid off a couple of times. We had to move.”
“Did your father ever tell you why I was angry?” It didn’t seem much like her ex. But who knew?
“Dad?” Ryan snorted. “He never talks about you at all.”
Well, that was a relief of sorts. Linda braced herself. “It’s about sex.”
Ryan stared. “What?”
“Sex, Ryan.” She bit back the urge to snap. “The therapist I’m seeing…Dr. Feller. She thinks I’m, well…oversexed. Hypersexual.” She laughed sadly. “A nympho, they would have called it, back when I was in high school.
“So if I don’t have…” Her hands clenched on her knees, but she made herself go on. “If I don’t…don't get off two or three times a day, I get really, really bitchy.”
From the blank look her son was giving her, Linda guessed that climaxing two or three times a day seemed like a minimum for a randy teenage boy. And that he couldn’t guess why she was making this confession in the first place.
“I’m sick of getting myself off. It doesn’t do anything for me anymore. And I’m tired of picking up randos and going back to their place. Dr. Feller…” She closed her eyes, unwilling to look her child in the face. “She suggested that my masturbation sessions could become more fulfilling if I started getting more adventurous. If, maybe, I started taking some risks.
“Like doing it in front of my son.”
And then, before her courage could fail her, she lifted her hands and began undoing the buttons of her blouse.
“Mom!” It came out as a harsh whisper. “What are you doing?”