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Sexual attraction is hard to explain. What is it about the sight of the female, curvaceous and well formed, that inflames men’s desire? Evol...

Sex Addiction

Sexual attraction is hard to explain.

What is it about the sight of the female, curvaceous and well formed, that inflames men’s desire?

Evolutionists posit that such urges are just beneficial traits that have developed over millennia to aid in the survival of the species. But most animals have a mating season. 

A time when the sexes are drawn to each other for propagation. They get “horny” for a limited time and purpose.

The male deer isn’t continually erect viewing a shapely female deer. 

But human males often have a problem controlling themselves. I know; I’m one of those.

The sight of a beautiful woman, in tight-fitting jeans, with firm breasts and an athletic body, causes me to falter each time. 

I have to catch myself, and redirect my thoughts back to grocery shopping, or buying a ticket at a movie theatre, or getting coffee at Starbucks -- whatever I’m doing when a beautiful creature crosses my path.

It’s a pleasure, but also a burden.

I also use sex as a stress relief mechanism.

My sex drive is too intense for my own good.

I am the IT manager for a local hospital. We get a lot of young women patients coming through, and the nursing and reception staff are all young women. 

Being surrounded by good looking females has led me to do and say inappropriate things. Nothing vulgar, just staring too long at their behinds or breasts, or making comments about their beauty. 

I was particularly attracted to one staffer, and perhaps asked her too often if she would be interested in dating. In this time of political correctness, I found myself accused of sexual harassment.

The hospital administrator said that he was required to do something about my behavior. He didn’t want to fire me – I’m good at my job – so the hospital would send me for psychological rehabilitation. 

He found a program designed to desensitize men suffering from excessive sexual feelings and sex addiction. But I was warned. If it didn’t work, I’d have to find another job.


The training was at a ranch in a rural part of the state. Unlike treating alcohol addiction, where, once recovered, one never again uses alcohol, sex addiction treatment aims to reintroduce sexuality in a safe, appropriate setting, allowing the sufferer to set boundaries.

I drove to the centre, the entrance of which had a sign saying something about it being a nature reserve. I was interviewed by an attractive female, a woman in her early thirties, named Melissa. 

She was dressed professionally in a suit, and had a business-like air about her. She asked me questions and recorded my answers on the computer.

Q. How would you describe your feelings about women in general?

Q. What is your first thought when you view an attractive woman?

Q. What features of a woman most attract you?

I answered these and other questions honestly, and discussed how I grew faint when I observed female breasts, the shape of their behind, the curve of the groin.

That I had to consciously think of something else, to avoid becoming too aroused.

Melissa had me remove my shirt and hooked electrodes to my chest and my arm to measure my pulse, my breath and my perspiration. A camera was trained on my eyes, recording. A band wrapped around my groin would detect movement. A computer recorded all inputs.

She moved to a projector, and switched it on. On the screen was a picture of a very beautiful woman. Tall, blond hair, blue eyed, with large breasts, and wearing a pair of jeans that revealed every curve.

"What are you thinking of now?" she asked me.

“I think she’s wonderful. I could stare at her all day,” I answered.

Melissa clicked the projector, and the woman on the screen now had no blouse on, just wearing a lace bra.

My breathing grew more rapid, my eyes were fixed on the screen.

Click: The woman was now naked from the waist up. I stared at large firm breasts.

Click: The woman’s pants were gone. She was clad in small panties that clung to her body.

My breathing grew more erratic. I knew my penis was pressing against the band.

Click: Now the woman was nude. I stared at her trimmed pubic hair.

I moaned quietly, and Melissa could see that I was very agitated. My heart was beating rapidly.

She continued with pictures of other women. Tall, short, some beautiful, some not so. All sizes, skinny, fat, everything in between. All in various stages of undress.

I reacted in different ways, but mostly aroused.

Finally, she clicked off the projector.

“OK, now we have a baseline as to your reactions. So we can start to desensitize you.”

“How do you do that?” I asked.

“You may not have noticed, but the sign at the entrance noted that this is a naturist reserve. In layman’s language, a nudist colony. Our counseling center is affiliated with the colony.”

I stared, not comprehending. I was sent to a nudist colony to cure a sex addiction?

Melissa anticipated the question. “Now, you might think that being in a nudist colony would just be pouring gasoline on a fire. But our philosophy is to make the human body less mysterious by exposure to casual nudity. When nakedness is the norm, it will cease to cause inappropriate reactions.”

I was not convinced, but I was very intrigued.

“Let’s get you situated,” she said.

She took me to what was essentially an upscale dormitory. It was a large room, with about a dozen pods in an open format. Each pod had a bed and an accompanying small dresser. There were bathrooms and a common shower area at the end of the corridor.

“Everyone is at the pool, so you should undress and I’ll take you there,” said Melissa.


“Yes”, she said. “From now on, you will be nude in all your interactions with the guests. Now, no one knows that you are here for a sexual problem. Just act naturally with them and they will be that way with you.”

“I am to undress?” I asked. Not spoken, but I was to undress in front of her?

“Yes. That is how we live here. And this will be the last time you see me with clothes. The next time we meet, I will be nude too.”

I removed my clothes and stored them in the dresser. 

Melissa paid scant interest to me as I stripped. I guess a naked guy just isn’t that interesting.

Melissa took me to the facility’s large outdoor pool. Dozens of people were swimming, lying on lounge chairs or walking around. 

I focused on the 50% of the individuals with breasts. Large ones, small ones, ones with small nipples, ones with large nipples surrounded by areola. 

I initially felt a stirring in my penis. 

But gradually I grew numb to the sight. 

There were so many naked people that just another pair of breasts was not exciting. The same with vaginas. After an hour or so, whether a groin was covered with hair or I could see the folds of the labia did not command my undivided interest. 

If there had been just one woman, a peek at her privates normally would have set me aflame. Instead, I picked up a magazine and began reading.

I was lying on a chaise lounge when an attractive young woman approached me.

“Hi. I think you’re new here. My name is Carolyn.”

She was about 5’4” tall, with long brunette hair. A beautiful figure, with breasts well proportioned to her body, firm curvaceous buttocks and attractively trimmed pubic hair. Just the sort of female body I liked. 

She had a gold chain around her waist, the only thing covering any part of her body. I was smitten.

“Hello Carolyn. I’m Bob. And yes, this is my first visit here. And my first visit to a nudist camp. It’s quite an experience.”

“What made you decide to try nudism?” she asked.

I wasn’t about to reveal the real reason, so I said the first thing that popped into my head.

“Well, I just broke up with my girlfriend. I’m a free spirit, into nude bathing and things like that. She was very self-conscious about her body. I felt the relationship wasn’t going to go anywhere, so I made a clean break. And decided to come here where there would be other free spirits.”

Not bad for an impromptu lie.

Carolyn said she understood completely. “Girls are supposed to be modest when it comes to their body, but that’s not me. I think the human body is beautiful, and don’t know why we always want to hide it behind clothes.”

My head was spinning. This was too good to be true. How had I not thought to seek out a nudist colony before?

She sat beside me and we talked for a long time. It was easy to talk with her. Then Carolyn suggested we go to her room.

“Are you in one of the pods?” I asked.

“No. I paid extra. I have a private room.”

We went to her room. No time wasted stripping off clothes as we were already naked. We groped and clung to each other, exploring every curve and opening. It was wonderful. I entered her and we rocked together, giving each other pleasure. 

We made love for a long time.

When we were finally exhausted, Carolyn told me this was her last afternoon at the camp. Because of a problem at her work, she had to leave shortly for home. I told her I wanted to see her again and asked for her phone number. Which she gave me.

We kissed and I left. I regretted that she was leaving, but happy in the thought that I’d see her again. I washed up at my pod. 

Soon it was dinner time, so I went down to the dining room. 

People were lined up on a buffet line, all without clothes of course. 

I have to admit that some would look better with clothes on. 

Men with pot bellies and dangling penises; women with breasts that hung down onto bellies sagging from bearing children. But many with firm, trim bodies. I concentrated on them.

I was seated at a table with 5 other people, two men and three women. All were nude. And all of the firm, trim body variety. I later learned that Melissa had deliberately placed me at a table of very attractive people as part of my conditioning.

Everyone at the table welcomed me and we chatted. I found myself talking directly to their faces. 

That is, I was sent here because I had a habit of staring at women’s chests. Now that I was surrounded by naked breasts, with no constraints on looking, I felt it would be rude to stare at them.

After the meal, we went back to the living quarters where there was a game room. 

Several of us played cards. The only concealment was when the women held their playing cards in front of their chests. It was normal to be naked. If someone had an itch, they scratched it. Wherever it was.

After dinner, most people went to the camp’s bar. 

There was a small band playing. I didn’t know many people yet, so I hung back. But then Melissa appeared and asked me if I wanted to dance. 

As promised, she wore nothing. She had a lovely figure, the type that I would have salivated about a few days ago. 

But the allure of what her body might look like underclothes was gone. She was naked and unashamed. No pretense, no flirtatious clothes. I admired her body but didn’t lust after it. 

We danced (although not close dancing) and talked.

“Do you feel any different?” she asked.

“Yes. It’s amazing how quickly one accepts a new normal. I’m walking around naked, with other naked people, and I don’t feel the need to stare. It just is.”

“Good”, she said. “Tomorrow we’ll try some additional treatment. You’re making great progress.”

In the morning, I went to shower and found several women already in the open shower area. No one paid much mind to me, and all we did was shower. 

I found it mildly disconcerting that I wasn’t lusting after the women, as I typically did. I just admired their curves.

I met with Melissa, anxious to find out what the next treatment protocol was. She took me into a room with 3 attractive women, all undressed, as was I. My assignment was to listen to them explain how they felt in a society dominated by men, especially sexually aggressive men.

The first, Amanda, was a thin, pretty college student with petite breasts (I obviously had an unencumbered view). 

She talked about how all her life she was self-conscious about her small breasts. How men would quickly check her over, then turn away to look at someone else better endowed. And how sad that realization made her. 

The second women, Michelle, volunteered how she tried unsuccessfully to hide her extra pounds with clothes. 

Nudism gave her freedom; no one could hide anything, so everyone’s flaws were equally on display. 

The third, Vanessa, a gorgeous redhead, talked to me about how she felt degraded when men openly lusted after her, ignoring her other attributes, such as her intelligence.

They questioned me about how I grew up, and my attitudes toward women. 

We talked for the better part of an hour. I realized part way through that I had all but forgotten that they were nude. This was weird.

Then Melissa asked me to rejoin her. She said she wanted to replicate the photographs from yesterday and measure any difference in my reactions. 

So I had the electrodes strapped on, and the photos of women as they removed their clothes played. My reactions to the appearance of them was much diminished from yesterday. 

Then a new photo appeared. It was Carolyn! She was dressed in a form clinging outfit. Then she began to remove her blouse. And her skirt. And her bra. And her panties.

I don’t know how she came to be among the models shown, but my breathing and heart rate increased as I was reminded of our blissful time together.

“Excellent,” said Melissa. “You reacted with normal but not excessive interest to everyone except for the one person with whom you had an intimate relationship. That’s just the result we are looking for.”

“How do you know I had a relationship with Carolyn?” I asked.

“She’s one of our therapists. It’s her job to engage with patients so we can measure just the reaction that we just found.”

I was stunned. So Carolyn hadn’t been attracted to me sexually? I was just a patient to whom she rendered “services”?

“She gave me her phone number,” I said, almost plaintively.

“You’ll find that is the phone number for the clinic here, not her home number. She’s not allowed to give out her real number.”

“How did you know that she and I would hook up?” I asked.

“That was easy. From the testing, we determined the body type that you react to most intensely. Carolyn was the therapist closest to your ideal.”

I felt used. I had liked Carolyn, and thought we would see each other again. I felt just like those three women I spoke with, who complained of male sexual domination. Now I was the one being manipulated, by women, by Melissa and Carolyn.

‘You’re brainwashing me” I protested, weakly.

“Not at all. Every reaction you feel is coming from within you. We just gave you the opportunity to find those feelings.”

I left the session feeling naked – not a physical nakedness but an emotional one.

All the above that I’ve related to you happened to me last year. 

So what was the result of this rehabilitation? I’m much more conscious of how I react with women, and although not all of my lust disappeared, I handle it better. And I joined the nudist camp. 

I go there frequently. I see Carolyn occasionally on my visits, but she’s usually working. Helping some poor soul like me to control their sex drive. 

I still love to look at crowds of naked women. And spend a lot of time doing it. But now I view it as therapy.

Story by Ethan

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