Addicted Allison by Noelle Black

Author:Noelle Black [Black, Noelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Erotica, African American, United States, Romance
Amazon: B00RBVD026
Published: 2014-12-21T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

There was something intoxicating about crossing the threshold into a hotel room, pressing the pause button on the real world outside its walls. I could assume a new identity once I released the keycard from the lock.

Occasionally I gave my gentleman callers a fake name, other times they named me “goddess” or “muse”. Responsible, ambitious Allison often became the submissive vixen who topped from the bottom, begging strangers to use me but all the while using them. If random sex was my drug, then the hotel room was my crack den. This was where I indulged in my most explicit behavior.

It would appear that my occupation and frequent travel enabled these activities. I’ve been wandering in and out of these rooms consistently for the past five years, taking temporary residency - escaping- in dozens of countries around the globe. It's ironic that I'm here in New York in the same hotel where my sexcapades began. I didn't even realize it until the woman at the front desk greeted me with “Welcome Back.” That's one of the risk of living your life in and out of hotels, they often blend together.

What gave certain hotels distinction were the men I bedded in them. Names and faces often blurred with time, but I had an amazing knack for remembering the oddest details. In San Diego in the Chancellor I met a man who decided to get circumcised at the age of twenty-five because past lovers complained about it. The surgery left tiny bumps around the circumcision scar. His penis, although functional, was not that pretty. In the Kemptrinski in Berlin, I fucked a man who came so loud that security knocked on the door asking if I was okay. He was a screamer, a convenient detail he left out up until about 5 seconds before he orgasmed.

What made this hotel in New York City stand out? The Buddhist. The Buddhist with the huge balls. You didn’t see balls like his every day. If a standard issue pair were the size of chicken eggs, his balls were like the eggs of an ostrich. I'm pretty sure he produced double the amount of semen that mere mortals did. They were extraordinary.

I guess I would classify this moment of introspection as an impulse worthy of reporting. I’m not sure what I am feeling, but I know this room and the memories I have associated with it inspire me to sexually engage with someone. I want to reach out of my temporary home and make a single-serving friend. I should call Matthias, but it's the middle of the night in London and I don’t want to burden him with my dysfunction. What if it sent him running? I could fix this, I could make myself better without him. I will make myself better for us.

I get up from the bed, sit at the desk and search the contents of my bag for the journal Dr. Richards gave me. Finding it, I feel around for a pen until I find one.

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