sex addicts [michael clifford]

1: earphones

two strangers walked in the crowded streets of new york city, oblivious to the other's presence. that is, until they stumbled across each other at the street corner.

"watch where you're fucking going," the girl snapped, glaring at the boy who had just ran into her.

"jesus, calm down. i'm sorry, but it was partially your fault too," the boy pointed out, looking down at the short girl.

the girl crossed her arms over her chest, wondering why both of them had actually taken the time to stop in the middle of a busy intersection to discuss this. "actually, you have your earphones in and you were obviously jamming out to whatever shitty music you listen to, not paying one ounce of attention to the people around you." she made a point of yanking one of his earphones out, to which he quickly popped back into his ear with a grunt.

"just leave me alone," the boy muttered, not looking to pick a fight. he continued on his way with pace, not bothering to look back at the girl with the nasty attitude.

what he didn't realize was that she was actually trailing behind him unconsciously, since they were both headed to the same place. you see, the two of them had one - and most likely only one - thing in common: they loved the idea of sex. although their views of sex were completely different, they had the same core idea.

however, the girl had had an abundance of sexual encounters, which is why her family shamefully enrolled her in sex addicts therapy, in fear that one day she would get an std. this was the boy's first time at therapy, and he was only praying that not having sex as much was as easy as ripping off a bandaid.

you can imagine the surprise on his face when he glanced over his shoulder and saw her following him into the same building. "what the fuck are you doing?" he asked loudly, attracting the attention from a few people around them.

"i'm going to therapy, what do you think?" the girl rolled her eyes, trying to push past this boy and into the therapy room.

he stepped in front of her, blocking her path. "are you serious? did you follow me here or something? do you hold a really bad grudge?"

she laughed humorlessly. "why would i follow you willingly? i've already seen more than enough of you today."

he chose to shrug off her comment and proceed with his first therapy session, trying not to pay any attention to her. he was in a room with around ten others, all around the age of eighteen to twenty, who all had an obvious fetish for sex. they all took turns explaining why they were there, and he had no idea what to say when it came to his turn.

"uh, hi. i'm michael clifford, i'm eighteen, and i guess i just like sex?" the others around him snickered, including the girl.

"what motivates you to engage in coitus, michael?" the counselor, tom, asked.

michael tried to stifle a laugh at the use of the word coitus. "i like the feeling of it. being so close to someone else and pouring all your love and emotion into it. but don't worry, i do it all the time with my girlfriend, and we always make sure we - "

"wait, excuse me?" the girl interrupted, and michael's head snapped in her direction. "you're a sex addict but the only person you have sex with is your girlfriend?"

he nodded his head slowly. "yeah, what's wrong with that?" he wondered.

her lips curved up in a small smile as she stood up in front of the group, preparing to give a speech. "hi, i'm devon peterson, and i'd like to explain why michael clifford's ideology of sex is complete and utter bullshit."