Our guest of the month is aware that, as a cyber-sex addict, she might provoke the sneer and judgments rather than empathy and understanding so she asked to stay anonymous. But nevertheless, it is reasonable to believe that many can found themselves in her story, being on one side or the other. Those who realized the seriousness of the situation will sign up for the addiction treatment, the same way Lydia did.
What can happen to someone in just a year may never happen to someone else during the lifetime.
The following scenario might give you a boner but will most likely sound the alarm in your head and rush you to check your social network female “buddies.”
As you will see soon, you might want to be careful about what you’re searching for because you might find more than you want. And your “discovery” can backfire when you least expect it. So stay focused. You might learn something from Lydia.
It all starts out of boredom
“My life fell in a sort of a routine. All I wanted was some action; some change; some drama; some challenge and adventure…some exhibitionism,” claims Lydia in the beginning of our talk, “I fell into a deep depression and people have a habit of saying that the devil himself went to hell just because he was bored. The same thing happened to me.”
Lydia looks great even though she’s in her 50s. She made sure to hide her real age by being regular in beauty salons, gyms, and occasional surgical treatments to iron the wrinkles and remove the excess skin. You wouldn’t give this lady more than 40 years of age. And one look at her figure will activate your sex drive, believe you me.
But this good-looking and sexy woman is one of those stay-at-home-moms that suffer from the internet and cyber-sex addiction. It’s a less known kind of an addiction but dangerous nevertheless. That addiction pushed Lydia, in her mature years, even in jaws of promiscuity which ended with the severe chronic depression.
You wouldn’t say it when you look at her but this woman spent last year having sex with more than 20 different men. Her husband is still completely unaware of the events that took place in his house, right on the bed he sleeps on. If he knew, she’d be most likely dead because Lydia’s husband was making money in some less legal ways, many of which included hurting other people.
I met with her by pure chance while visiting one of my oldest female friends who’s living at the coast. Lydia was staying at my friend’s place for the next few months.
At first, I didn’t know what the hell was she doing there but after a good dinner, few glasses of cold, sweet, white wine and assurance that I know how to keep my mouth shut, Lydia came forward and told me her story. She explained why she moved from the inland to the coast, leaving her husband and her home. Poor bastard thinks that she’s suffering from depression caused by some unknown factor.
She explained that somebody must keep her away from the internet and connectible devices at all times. She also mentioned that she is a cyber-sex addict. [and I was wondering about the model of the cell phone in front of her…that piece of shit could barely send a text message and now it made sense to me why would she use something like that]
Now, the first thing that comes to your mind when the good-looking woman tells you something like that is: “easy fuck.” But then again, is it wise to get yourself involved with someone like this?
So I decided to hear her out before anything else. Don’t know if you ever had a chance talk with a female sex addict but I can tell you this: it’s hard to talk to someone for more than two hours, trying to hide an obvious boner!
She’s going through the treatment but that doesn’t mean that she stopped using that familiar power, sexy ladies have over us men. Her every move was sexy…every word was sexy…the way she smoked her cigarette was sexy…the whole goddamn setup looked more like a porn scene than a serious interview. Or was it just me?
“You see, Steven,” Lydia broke the sudden silence, “I’m not some young and stupid spoiled brat but that didn’t prevent the shit that happened to me. It was like my mind wasn’t under my control anymore. Like it was someone else. [and there’s that goddamn cigarette again…]
“I had an organized life, two fully grown children, and a good husband. I didn’t have to work. I didn’t even have to clean the house because I could easily afford housecleaning service. But I did pay special attention to my looks.
So no hobbies, no obligations, just boredom. And it was that boredom that lured me into social networks.
I made a profile on one of them. Then on another. Then on the third, like that would bring me more excitement, challenge or some new life opportunities. And all I truly wanted and was desperate for was some love.
You see, my marriage reached the point where my husband and I became two sisters. Not even a brother and sister but two sisters. Something like that…I don’t know.
We wouldn’t see each other for days and I couldn’t care less if my husband was banging some hot piece of ass or even having a serious relationship with some woman. I was financially secured from both sides. My parents are loaded and two of us made more than enough for me to live a high-end life with the half of everything.
But I didn’t think about it. I didn’t have time to think about it. When my addiction got worse, I was hanging on the internet for 20 hours each day until collapsing in my chair. Yes, I’m going through the divorce now but that’s the least of my problems. I can’t tell you how desperate I am to connect to some sex chat and experience that feeling again. That’s my real problem. All the money in this world means nothing to me, Steven. All I want is to find someone who’ll show some feeling for me. All I want now is to fuck like there’s no tomorrow but with someone who deeply cares for me. [you can imagine how hard was it to suppress the automatic response to this one]
Internet provided me with the new, virtual life. I could “photoshop” myself and appear a lot younger, more like a woman “of action” and not as some old stay-home mom.
I started flirting with a large number of men pretty soon. But I was picky about their age. I didn’t want yet another 50-year-old. I had that already. I was more interested in younger flesh. 35 was the upper limit of my tolerance.
And that wasn’t an issue at all. Most of my “partners” were just boys in their 20s, peculiar of having sex with the more experienced, older woman. Online generation is young anyway, so it’s the matter of the statistic that you’ll run in someone young anyway.
With my virtual self-presentation, I made myself a hot stuff on the market. So pretty soon I started the relationship that eventually marked the beginning of my end. At least the one that involves spending time on my laptop.
To cut to the chase, after few cases of harmless flirtation, I got hooked on a 21-year-old. I could be a grandmother to him, not just his mother. But I presented myself to be 15 years younger than I actually am and told him that he’s dealing with the 42-year-old woman. He didn’t mind it. I guess he wouldn’t even mind if I told him my real age. And it wasn’t because he was some kinky fuckup but because he was interested in less from me than I was from him.
You see, I fell in love with him even while we were still having cyber-sex so I wished for a real and meaningful relationship. At the same time, all he wanted was sex.
He couldn’t care less about my money because the boy was a member of the so-called “golden youth.” His parents were taking care of all his needs and then some. The boy was loaded. But we did have a great sex thou. A magnificent one to be honest. He drilled me like no one before and I’ll be thankful to him for the rest of my life. At least until he got bored with me.
Without any warnings, he just cut me off, blocking me on social networks and ignoring my phone calls.
I wasn’t going to make the fool out of myself by trying to search for him or to stalk him. I managed to keep at least that small amount of sanity and self-respect. I saw him with the young girl and it became obvious that I didn’t fit into his life anymore.
I can’t even explain to you how crazy I became. I felt indescribable pain and loss. It was like a burned ground inside of me. I realized that chatting with him and our occasional meetings weren’t just the framework but the meaning of my life.
I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. So I obsessively started to look for the substitute. And I was doing that in the worst possible way.”
Me: “But how it’s possible that your husband didn’t see what was going on right in front of his nose? How did you hide it from him?”
“He thought that I’m using Skype to talk to my relatives in Canada and England. That was my excuse and I made sure to have all sorts of security features installed on my laptop, including spy blockers and deep history erasers. I also made sure to use only the chats with no history. At least I hope I did.
You see, while people are picking through the garbage to survive, I was spending my time on the internet searching for the ideal partner. If only I had some existential worries. But the kids were fully grown and I rarely saw them. So I concentrated on myself and my virtual appearance. Frequent chats, cyber-sex rooms, exchange of nude photos, masturbation over the Skype with partners that I don’t even know and stuff like that became the way of life.
After that boy ditched me, I went extreme and was regularly meeting with 20 men in total, all younger than me, of course. I had sex with two of them on several occasions in my own bedroom.
I guess I was overwhelmed with the worst case of the mid-life crisis. Trying to preserve the myth of my everlasting youth and beauty, I, in fact, lost self-respect and made a fool out of myself.
I ain’t gonna tell you what was the trigger that got me back to reality and for me to realize that I touched the bottom of the life. I simply realized that my life was falling apart so I decided to seek some help. [no matter how hard was I trying, I couldn’t get it out of her…she stood by her decision to not tell me the reason…and it was clear as a whistle that something happened that snapped her out of it…who knows what…]
It would be so much easier for me if I would be a religious person but unfortunately, that isn’t the case. So instead, I rely on antidepressants, living with the constant mood swings that range from sorrow to meaninglessness. My nights are long and I really miss that bluish light of the laptop. My life is a hell shined only by the tinder of my cigarette and everything is permeated with the memory records that I don’t want to have.
I’m lucky for not having to worry about my finances like many others but it’s a normal state for me. I guess money is only important when you don’t have any, right?
My quest for fulfillment of my own life and my desire to find the love, have psychically destroyed me but I’m going through the therapy now so I guess we’ll see how everything will turn out. My husband is nothing but the mental noun to me for a long time now but I’m grateful to him for all the support he unwittingly provides for me, thinking that I’m on some winter vacation at my friend.
I get my treatment here and leaving only for short walks along the shoreline. Reading the Bible seems like the logical step right now. It will be my new ‘internet’”, Lydia concluded, ending her horrifying testimony.
Lydia is sending us a very clear message: if you want to avoid sharing your wife and your own bed with several other men, make sure she doesn’t feel neglected. Make sure she feels loved. Make sure she’s the number one.
If you are not interested, then don’t complain after you find out that your wife spends her time on the internet doing something completely different from what she claims to be doing.