Welcome to E. Mayberry

Chapter 1

He wanted to know about Erotic Mayberry. That’s the best place to start this story. My story. For the sake of not confusing anyone, I’ll keep my conversations with the detective in bold so you can clearly understand the switch between my discussions with him and my story about Erotic Mayberry.

I didn’t want to speak to anyone about my past.

I didn’t want to.

But he insisted.

The detective had shown up as I was about to sit with a cup of coffee and watch one of my soaps. I hated missing my soaps but it wasn’t every day that a man in a suit showed up at my door. Suit porn. Nothing better.

I wore a sundress, tight to my body, and considered changing into something a little less comfortable but figured, what the fuck, this is my house. Let him be uncomfortable.

I gestured for him to sit in an armchair while I sat on the loveseat across from him.

He told me he was investigating a neighborhood I used to live in, a place called E. Mayberry. Erotic Mayberry to those who lived there.

“I’m going to need you to start from the beginning,” he said. “Tell me about your entrance into this…Erotic Mayberry…as you call it.”

“Not what I call it. What THEY call it.”

“And who are they?” he asked.

The detective had told me to call him Tension. I thought that was a really odd name. Especially given the situation. The room seemed to be filled with nothing but tension.

“Is that your real name?” I asked him.

He was confused. I’d changed the subject, something I often do when I’m nervous or uncomfortable in a situation.

“Tension,” I said. “That can’t be your real name.”

“Tenccione,” he replied. “It’s Italian. But it sounds close enough and the nickname kind of stuck. So I’m Tension. Now, since I’ve been so polite as to answer your question, would you mind answering mine?”

He was good looking, long hair that looked like he hadn’t washed it in a few days, kind of greasy and unkempt, but I liked the way his loose tie hung around his stubbly neck. He probably hadn’t shaved since the last time he shampooed.

Oh how I’d love to ride that five o’clock shadow.

He had a bit of a cleft in his chin, which kind of reminded me of an old 80s sitcom star, one I couldn’t quite place my finger on. I decided Tension was hot in an old fashioned, manly cop kind of way.

Was it Tony Danza? Maybe.

His smug attitude was the one trait keeping me from falling head over heels. He had a bit of an asshole way about him. Now, I’m not saying I’m not a sucker for bad boys but even the baddest boys usually know how to turn on the charm. Tension occasionally raised a cocky eyebrow and smirked when the timing was right.

“They,” I said, “Means everyone. Really. Maybe even someone in your department. They’re everyone.”

Tension stared at me, his deep brown eyes focused on my face, unwavering, waiting for more. I wondered if I should give it to him. I had nothing to lose here. I wasn’t some kind of suspect in a criminal investigation. I was only a young woman with a story to tell and it was a story this cop wanted for some reason.

As I considered giving him the info he needed, I noticed his eyes had drifted down to my breasts. My cleavage. I’d been leaning forward without noticing, and being slightly curvy, I knew I had an unbelievable rack. It was my best asset. And Tension seemed pleased.

“My eyes are up here,” I said.

But by all means, keep them wherever you like.

He snapped out of his trance and brought his gaze up to meet mine.

I wanted to fuck him. I decided it right then. That has always been my problem. I’m a bit of a nymphomaniac and I tend to make bad decisions when it comes to sexy men. And Tension was unbelievably sexy. He looked aggressive and sometimes aggression is nice.

“Do you want inside me?” I asked.

He laughed and shook his head as if my last question might drip off like water from his hair after a cold shower.

“I want information,” he said.

“So you want inside me.”

“I want answers.”

“And the answers are inside me.”

I love fucking with guys. They’re so easy to unnerve. Tension was playing it cool though. He rubbed at his chin and laughed.

I’d never had a hard time getting guys. I lost my virginity at the age of fourteen when a neighbor kid held me down and had his way with me. It was rough at first and I didn’t really like it. But a week later, I held him down and had my way with

him. Then I did it again and again and from then on I was a sex addict.

My story needed to be told. I decided to give Tension what he wanted. I twirled my blonde hair around a finger, licked my lips, and opened my legs a smidgen, loving the feel of my pussy against the loveseat cushion.

“Tension,” I said. “I’m going to tell you all that I can. I can’t promise it’ll help you solve any crime or any problem you have with Erotic Mayberry but I can promise you’re going to get hard as I tell my story. If at any point you need to get up and relieve yourself, the bathroom is upstairs, second door to the left.”

He laughed under his breath and shook his head again.

“You’re a very…interesting woman,” he said.

“You have no idea,” I promised.

And he didn’t but I knew hearing my story might open up his eyes to the world in which I’d lived. He was definitely in for a surprise. So I started my story, deciding that I wouldn’t hold back. I’d give him all the details exactly as they went down.

Here’s my story, word for word, as I told the detective.

Chapter 2

“It started with a blowjob and a hand job. As I told you, I was, am, a sex addict.