THE HYPERSEXUAL

-PAGE: EROTIC+ TV

-TITLE: THE HYPERSEXUAL

-AUTHOR: LOLO

-VOLUME I:

-CHAPTER 01:

As my sixteenth birthday approached, I was besieged by uncontrollable desires brought on by puberty. Insistence, I didn't understand. It was a traumatic time for a young girl like me, especially since it was the 1950s when sex was a taboo subject and there was no sex education taught in schools or the internet. The physical changes in my body were visible, but puberty brought other changes that had no outward signs. The hormones produced sexual urges and thoughts that were confusing to an innocent and clueless girl like me. Frustrating. Scary. Even pleasant in an incomprehensible way. And these hormonal changes were more traumatic for me than for a typical girl because I was struggling with hypersexuality, today's medical term for obsessive-compulsive disorder or sex addiction. In the 1950s, it was simply called nymphomania. After all this time, I still remember those years of rollercoaster rides, heartbreaking torments and heartwarming thrills very clearly, as if it were only yesterday.

Where should I start?

I suppose June 5, 1956 is as good a starting point as any. My family had recently purchased our first television, a solid wood stand with a small black and white tubular screen in the middle. That evening, Eden Lopi was the guest of Luc Man vibe. I had listened to Eden on the radio and I loved his voice, and the songs made me vibrate to the rhythm, but until then I had never seen him. And now there it was on the small screen in my own living room, three feet from my eyes as I lay on my stomach, too close to the TV. My chin was propped in my hands and my feet were raised behind me, crossed at the ankles.

I knew Eden would be old. Not as old as my father, but he was an adult. All the singers were. I mean, my God, he was twenty-one. That's old for a fifteen year old girl. But my eyes were glued to him. The way he moved gave me chills. The way he shook his body when he sang gave me butterflies in my stomach, especially at the end of the song when he extended it with lots of slow-motion bumps and squeaks. I didn't know anything about sex at the time, but I knew boys and girls were different and my eyes were fixed on her hips and the area below her waist. I could barely breathe. And those butterflies in my stomach made my skin tingle and made me squeeze my thighs together. I even think I was rocking, digging my pubes into the carpet I was lying on. Not that I realize it. Later that night when I took off my panties I thought I had had an accident and peed in them a little.

Many years have passed since that memorable day. Of course, I know a lot more today than I did then, but I remember this naive fifteen-year-old girl in 1956. My memories are overwhelmed by her confusion, curiosity, and budding passion.

The next day, I took all the money my grandmother had given me for my birthday, as well as the money I had earned doing my household chores, and rushed to the record store the closest one where I bought a few Eden albums. When I got home, I stacked the little records on the spindle of my record player and sat cross-legged on my bed to listen to them. When he played, I jumped out of bed and imitated Eden's hip humps and grinds that I'd seen him do on TV. At the time, I had never danced, so looking back, I probably looked like a spastic stripper. But without even knowing it, it was the first time I used my pelvis in a fucking movement.

A few days later, I went back to the record store to buy a poster of Eden. He wore a white suit with the collar turned up in the back and a guitar slung over one shoulder, his legs spread and knees bent, and his hips thrust forward with his heels off the ground. His black hair hung in front of his eyes. Ice blue eyes, which surprised me since the television was black and white. I hung the poster on the wall at the foot of my bed so I could gaze at it while lying on my pillows. I stared into those ice blue eyes for hours. I had to take down the Ben Laar poster to put up the Eden poster, but I found another wall for the other sexy man.

The same day I hung the poster of Eden, my mother came into my room. She looked at the clothes scattered on the floor and draped over the back of a chair.

She said with the reserved tone of a question that did not expect an answer;

➖Florette, what did I tell you about keeping your room clean? Clean up this mess immediately.

I was lying on my bed looking at Eden, so I swung my legs to the side and stood up. My mother turned to leave when she spotted the Ben Laar poster.

She began;

➖Why did you move…?

But she stopped when her eyes turned to where it stood on the wall at the foot of my bed;

➖MOM: Florette Josée, remove this guilty waste!

➖ME: But, mom, I like it.

➖MOM: It's the devil. I heard what he did on Luc Man's show. If I hadn't been in the bathroom, I would have turned off the damn TV. If that's what they're going to show on TV, we don't need it.

➖ME: I love his music. He's plugged in.

➖MOM: It's the devil. The way he moved was sinful. Everyone says it.

This amazed me. He sang and moved to the music. Why was it a sin?

➖ME: But, mom, I paid for it with my own money.

➖MOM: I don’t care! Remove it now!

My father poked his head into my room;

➖Why all these cries?

My mother's hand shook when she showed the Eden poster;

➖Look at what she has hanging on the wall.

My father came into the room and looked at the poster;

➖DAD: So what? All the girls love him.

My mother screamed;

➖It’s the devil!

➖PAPA: Look, it's not Georges Guétary, but it's the kind of music that children like today. I think it's loud, but my parents didn't like Guétary when I was young.

➖MOM: I want it!

I had never seen my mother so angry. His face was red and the veins on the sides of his temples were prominent. She even had her fists clenched.

➖DAD: Liliane, darling, let’s talk about it.

My father grabbed my mother's arm and dragged her out of the room. I heard arguing coming from their room down the hall, but the walls muffled what was being said. However, my mother never asked me to take down the Eden poster. Although she frowned every time she saw him.

The next major event that led to my life as a nymphomaniac happened towards the end of the summer. It was shortly before my sixteenth birthday. I know this date: September 1, 1956. In Caracas, after the summer vacation, school started on the first Monday after Labor Day, so I never got to celebrate my birthday at school. Not that anything like that happened in high school, but I missed all the birthday celebrations in elementary school. In elementary school, when it was someone's birthday, that person felt special when their class celebrated their birthday. But for people like me whose birthday was during summer vacation, each class had a group birthday celebration for all the kids whose birthday was in summer. I always felt cheated that I had to share my special day with others. If only I had been born a few weeks later.

Bello Monte was then densely populated. It's always like that. My neighborhood had rows of red brick houses attached from one street corner to the other. All my friends were around the corner and the high school was on a dirty corner across the street a block away. Everything was within walking distance. These few blocks represented my whole world.

That second fateful day, Grace and I were at Dorene's house. The three of us were only a few months apart, so we were in the same class. We were best friends for as long as I could remember, living within walking distance of each other and going to school together. We had no secrets from each other. Well, I finally did when sex became a major part of my life, but not then. I was an only child while Grace had a younger brother and Dorene had an older brother and an older sister.

The three of us were sitting on Dorene's bed. Dorene was leaning against the headboard with the pillows behind her and Grace and I were sitting cross-legged facing her.

Grace asked Dorene;

➖So, what is the big secret?

Dorene declared;

➖You must promise not to say anything

She then looked at me;

➖You too. You two.

➖GRACE: I promise

➖ME: Me too.

Dorene shook her head;

➖No, you have to cross your heart and swear that if you tell anyone, you will die.

I leaned forward, every muscle in my body tense. It seemed important. The last time I was told to make that kind of promise was when Grace told us she saw her little brother's thing and described it. I remember listening to her with bated breath and at that moment I didn't know why I wanted to hear every detail even though we kept scrunching up our faces and saying: Ahhhh ahhhh...

Come to think of it, that was probably why I kept looking at Eden below the waist, but I never would have admitted it to myself at the time.

Grace declared as she made a cross on her left breast with her index finger;

➖I swear if I tell anyone I will die

All eyes were on me.

Then I say, making the same cross on my chest;

➖I swear if I tell anyone I hope I die

Grace and I leaned forward. Dorene's eyes shifted to the closed bedroom door, then back to us.

She whispered;

➖My sister said something to me

I bit my lower lip. His sister was older than us and knew more. Until then, that's where I received my sex education, although not everything was correct. I couldn't wait to hear what it was.

Grace asked impatiently when Dorene didn't continue;

➖So?

➖DORENE: We were arguing about something when all of a sudden she said: You're so tense you need to have an orgasm.

I asked;

➖What is it?

Dorene declared before returning to her story;

➖That’s what I asked him. She turned red and told me to forget it. But you know me, I wouldn't let that go. I kept pestering her. Finally, she told me. She said it was about sex.

Grace and I leaned forward even more, holding our breath. It was important to know everything related to sex.

Dorene declared;

➖She said it was something both girls and boys had, but it was different for a girl than for a boy. I tell you my mother made the birds and the bees talk to me.

Grace and I nodded. Dorene was a few months older than us. I had been grateful to hear it from my friend. I would have died of shame if my mother talked to me about anything related to sex.

Grace said matter-of-factly;

➖The boy puts his thing in the girl and she gets pregnant

But I knew she didn't know what she was talking about any more than I did.

➖DORENE: It's not just about putting it inside. He must be squirting things into her. This is how she gets pregnant. Stuff, yes. Now I know it's called an orgasm when the boy cums his stuff.

More as a question than a statement, I say;

➖But your sister said you needed an orgasm. We don't have anything to squirt stuff into.

Dorene declared;

➖I didn't say that she said things about girls who threw

I could tell she was frustrated with telling us more than she actually knew.

➖DORENE: All she told me was that a girl feels good when you touch her pussy and she has an orgasm. She said it was the best feeling ever.

I had no idea what Dorene was talking about. Glancing at Grace, neither did she. Even Dorene looked confused.

Grace asked as she sat down;

➖Is this the big secret? Is that why we had to “hope to die”?

TO BE CONTINUED...