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The Sex Rehab Diaries: Rachels Confession

“Hi, I’m Rachel, and yeah… I guess you can call me a sex addict,” I giggled as I looked at the expectant faces surrounding me.

I thought about that statement for a minute. Of course, I’d never called myself a sex addict out loud, but the idea of it sounded almost kind of sexy. Of course I knew I was supposed to be all serious standing there in the classroom at The Belleview Retreat for Sexual Health. But really, how can you find the seriousness of group therapy at all?

They were a miscellaneous collection of odd personalities from different walks of life sharing intimate and intense details of their sex lives with complete strangers. And we were supposed to be listening with rapt concentration, pretending that we were learning from all these stories, when it was clear that everyone was just getting more and more turned on. Three girls had already given their confessions before mine and they all seemed distracted, as though they were mentally reliving their own stories whenever there was a lull in the classroom or when we were on break. It seemed like sharing them out loud had given them life again, which seemed to be somewhat counterproductive to the point of therapy. It was a highly undisciplined group, and I guess that was where I saw the fun in it. The subtle flirting and long glances kept a high level of sexual tension in the room. 

I was about to begin introducing myself when the unmistakable hum of a buzzing vibration broke the silence. Everyone began looking at each other with wide eyes and I could hear the various protests of “don’t look at me, it’s not me” ripple through the crowd.

“Wow, did someone bring their vibrator to class?” Brooklyn finally said with a sarcastic laugh. The edgy brunette was the owner of her own sex shop, and she certainly seemed to know her toys.

“Uhm, nah not a vibrator,” came the voice from the least vocal member of the classroom. “Blackberry,” he said, casually reaching into his pocket to check the screen display. “Can I take this?”

“No Dexter, you may certainly not take it,” Dr Clark, our resident therapist, snapped. “Now let’s redirect out attention to Rachel, shall we.”

The offending member of our therapy group gave a rueful grin and stuffed it back into his pocket and pulled his cap down lower over his face. With his dark sunglasses that he refused to take off and his mysterious aura combined with a certain kind of standoffish arrogance, he definitely seemed to be the outsider of the group.

Updated: December 21, 2016 — 11:07 pm
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