Memoirs of a Wannabe Sex Addict

Memoirs of a Wannabe Sex Addict, by Julia Morizawa

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“As Morizawa’s story develops, the high standard of the writing and quality of the author’s ability to convey her message to the reader remains beautifully focused. Morizawa is a first-rate writer. The quality of the writing blends literate prose with an accessible style that few authors can manage. The erotic scenes are presented in appropriate detail, cleverly paced to deliver information that is arousing without appearing salacious or prurient.  The content is graphic where it needs to be and it basks in sensuous detail when a more languorous approach is required. But it is never unnecessarily gratuitous. The whole book is well-worth the read for anyone who enjoys erotic memoirs, or simply for those who appreciate the creative talents of Morizawa.”

Ashley Lister, EroticaRevealed.com Read More …

“…Julia Morizawa’s beautiful prose and haunting images explore women and men in their search for understanding, love, sex, and belonging. It’s a twenty-something’s second coming-of-age story, wrapped in prose that captures the sense of confusion of a generation…. Morizawa’s debut collection of erotica is an impressive read with an array of identifiable characters connecting to the darker side of the feminine.”   Read more …

Axie Barclay, Sacramento Book Review

“This book is skillfully written. Julia is brave to open herself to the world and bare her story.  The erotic passages of this book take you out of your element. It is as if you are there and it is not Julia who this story is unfolding on…. Memoirs of a Wannabe Sex Addict sheds light on real issues, real people and real sex. Julia does a wonderful job of portraying all three, as well as hoping that others find their way just as she has.”  Read More …

Tiffany Schlarman, ReaderViews.Com

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Every woman has a story. But not every woman will tell it. Memoirs of a Wannabe Sex Addict is a brutally honest and fearless retelling of one girl’s sex-capades. Each short story is a vignette taken from her life—the ups, the downs, and everything in between. In a search for belonging and purpose, she explores men and women, submission and dominance, prostitution and commitment. But what will she find?

As “The Slave” she learns that she is afraid to love or be loved. As “The Addict” she finds power in impressing her pimp by having sex for money. As “The Foreigner,” she discovers that fantasies are best sought after on the other side of the world. And, one by one, each experience forces this girl to grow up.

Julia Morizawa exposes an arousing world of sexual freedom colored by the vulnerability and complex emotions that go hand in hand. This book is a must-read for any woman who has searched for herself by using— and abusing—her body. And for anyone who has emerged at the other side, older but wiser.

. . . When he said that, I couldn’t help but turn onto my side and face him. I couldn’t help but feel a sudden rush of passion flow through my body. He turned toward me as well and wrapped his arm around my waist. He slowly rubbed his warm hand up and down my back, first over my shirt, then under it. When he kissed me, it was as if all the warmth in his body had been passed over into mine. I wrapped my palm around the back of his neck to pull him in closer, to kiss him harder. His tongue felt like warm silk in my mouth. When he moved it around and under mine, it was done perfectly, as if we had choreographed the movements ahead of time. He caressed my stomach with his hand, making my muscles tense up. When we kissed harder, he grabbed my skin tightly. He slid his hand under my bra and gently cupped my breast, then massaged it, moving it any way he wanted. I kept one hand on his neck and slipped the other underneath his shirt, feeling a thin trail of fuzz just below his naval. I pinched his nipples hard between my fore-finger and thumb. I knew he liked it because of the soft, airy grunts escaping from the back of his throat. He slid his other hand up the back of my skirt and squeezed my thigh, then my ass. I moved my hand from his chest to his stomach to his crotch. I could feel him hard underneath his jeans. After undoing the button and zipper of his pants, I wrapped my fist around his cock, first over his boxers, then under. As I slowly slid my fist from tip to base and back to the tip again, his breathing became heavier, his vocalizations more difficult to control. He followed my lead and pulled my underwear to the side so I could feel a cool breeze pass through my moist skin. He pushed his fingers inside of me, first one, then two, then three. I briefly pulled my hand away to spit in my palm and used it to moisturize his cock. I began to move my wrist and arm faster and he did the same with his fingers. I could feel his pre-cum dripping into my hand, helping me keep him lubricated. Our hips danced with our hands, synchronized in motion together. Suddenly, he pulled himself out of my grasp.

“Stop, stop,” he whispered.

“Why, what happened?” I asked.

“Nothing. I just want you to come first.”

He sat up, grabbed my ankles and pulled them toward him. He lifted my skirt and slipped my underwear off and let them hang on his wrist. He spread my legs open and held onto the insides of my thighs. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the dry grass. I felt his warm, wet tongue tease my groin, then the lips of my pussy, then my clit. He started slow and gentle. My breathing became heavy and a soft moan escaped my mouth. As he began to pick up speed, he slipped his fingers back inside of me and used his other hand to pinch my nipples. As soon as I came, he reached for his wallet and found a condom. He quickly opened the packaging and slipped the rubber around his hard cock. He leaned into me but stopped and asked, “Is this what you want?” I simply nodded. I watched him penetrate me for the first time. I squeezed myself tight around him and I could tell that he liked it. He felt so good inside of me.

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