Love Is Ǝvil

58 Get The Bar Of Soap Lathered

The water was lukewarm on his hands and foamy, it splashed in the bucket as he wrung out the rag. Some drops hit the old sweatpants and tank top he was wearing. Wet noises as he slapped the rag on the hood of his car and thick drops ran down the black metal. His hand drew broad sweeping circles across the hood as he washed it, the muscles in his arm hard at work. The swing rocked his whole body in the same rhythm and pushed the silver collar to jerk against his neck, his other hand needed to stabilize him. Under his breath Marshall hummed the melody that came from the car speakers at full volume. The bright lights of the garage disguised the time of night.

Lame ass. Go out, do something exciting! Anything is more adventure than a stupid toy, fag. What kind of slut are you? Horny but too lazy to go out? He couldn't sleep, too many thoughts swirled around in his head and the bedroom ceiling wasn't helping. It was glad that it didn't have to watch him being split open by some random dicks with sweaty guys attached to it, watching him play with a vibrator was already enough. A sentiment Marshall understood, but it was his own fucking bedroom. If he wanted to play with a toy, that was the best place to do it. Was it not? No, the best place is an orgy, bitch. Everyone knows that. You should dye your hair blond again, that fits your brain better.

Should he want to in the first place? It seemed better than to find some guy on the app and meet him at a motel, in that comparison staying home and playing with himself was surely the better option. Not as satisfying, but that was the price to pay. The problem he was raking his brains about: Did he want to have sex with some guy or was that his hypersexuality speaking?, or what else the Doc had called it, OCD, BPD, whatever. Was he sick? Like in an official, diagnosable way? You ain't sick, you're just a slut. Get back to bed and fuck yourself. This is sad and ridiculous. That he wasn't normal he knew and he had a problem very obviously, but that wasn't the same as being sick.

He knew this line of thinking, telling himself this wasn't all that big of a deal and not really something to worry about, he had shit under control. Hahaha!

The first step was accepting that this was a problem and he couldn't handle it on his own. He was still trying to find the line where his sex habits were okay, some guys from an app were too much and bad for his relationship, but with a toy by himself that wasn't too bad, right? When he compared his situation now to the days of his addiction, how and when he had been able to accept help, this had some uncomfortable similarities. Maybe calling this an addiction was on point. He had a habit of fixating on a thing, replacing his addiction to pills with too much sport at first. Balancing his life wasn't a talent of his. Perhaps if he wanted to right this, he needed to stop sex altogether? The fuck no! God, no! No, don't even think that! Oh, the horror! To spend the rest of my life with you and no sex? Kill me now! No fucking random guys from an app, no blowjobs for Ryan, no sex with Nicolas either and no playing with himself anymore. Detoxing in a way. In this light their new arrangement was doing more harm than good, his boyfriend shouldn't enable and support his addiction.

Marshall sighed and wrung the rag out again, moving on to wash the fender and passenger side door. He absolutely and in no way was okay to give up sex, probably more addiction speaking than anything else. If he wasn't willing to put a hundred percent into the work to get better, he wouldn't get better period.

That's when he had put the toy aside and left his bedroom. He was still hung up on this point, not moving forwards nor backwards. He didn't want to give up sex regardless how bad his life was because of it, even sex with women was better than nothing. Now that was a red flag. A female body could be gifted with a sense of beauty but it didn't rouse his interest - or anything else for that matter. Fucking homo! He had just learned how to get what he needed, not always an enjoyable act. But no sex at all? Nope, not with him.