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Nympho

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Sex! That word scares you doesn’t it? As soon as you read it, you felt peculiar. We all do understand why this word scares us. It’s all due to the society we live in but I’m not here to talk about that. I’m going to talk about something scarier than that: Nymphomania.

“Distress about a pattern of repeated sexual conquests with a succession of individuals who exist only as things to be used” that’s how American Psychiatric Association classified nymphomania in 1980.

Sexual insatiability is the most common symptom of this condition along with recurrent and intense sexual fantasies, sexual urges, or sexual behaviors; there is also the practice of self-pleasure through masturbation. Although some women who identify as nymphomaniac desist from the act of masturbation for the reason that it self-satisfaction doesn’t bring them pleasure, most of these women are submissive.

Nymphomania is not listed as a clinical diagnosis in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM). Nevertheless, some psychologist lists it as a psychological condition. I think it’s as dangerous as any other psychological disease because it gets into your mind. It sustains its victim from doing most of the normal activities that an individual should do; affecting their ability to work, to judge, to maintain a relationship or most importantly to maintain life.

Sexual addiction prevents people from managing their sexual behavior. Why it happens is unclear. Some of the nymphomaniac women have never been molested or sexually abused and never faced any sort of domestic instability. However, some of them have been exposed to sexual harassment at a young age and most of them went through unbalanced relationships with family members, which is the biggest cause of sexual imbalance.

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L’ Amour acidifié

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    Je me souviens bien de la glace que tu me faisais déguster chaque fois qu’on se voyait. Je la terminais la première pour attaquer la tienne ! Que j’adore l’acidité du citron que tu me faisais déguster(répétition de déguster). Un délice dont je ne pouvais(peux?) me passer ! Je continue à prendre cette glace chaque samedi comme on le faisait il y a un an, je longe la mer et finis par m’asseoir seule pour faire l’exercice que tu m’avais appris : on comptait jusqu’à trois, on fermait les yeux et on s’évadait main dans la main, écoutant les vagues qui chantaient notre amour calmement. Tu m’avais appris non seulement à t’aimer mais aussi à aimer la vie, à donner de la valeur à ses détails !

Je ne savais pas qu’une glace au goût acide pouvait m’emporter, me combler de joie et de satisfaction. Je rêvais toujours d’un homme qui m’envahirait de bijoux, d’or et de voyages luxueux. Aujourd’hui, je découvre qu’une simple glace est capable de satisfaire mes envies et mes attentes.

En fait, après un an de rupture, j’ai éventuellement compris que l’amour a le goût de citron. Malgré ma déception, ma faiblesse, mon cœur brisé, je continue à le savourer , à le trouver acide et fort, et à la fois, délicieux, exquis et merveilleux.

C’est fou comme c’est bon l’amour au goût de citron !

 

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