Rating: 8/10 Title: Addicted
Author(s): Duane Williams
Genre: Adult Fiction/Short Story
Other Information/warnings: Explict m/m, possible squick for unsafe sex and watersports
Summary: A sex addict in a support group isn’t exactly avoiding his addiction.
A favorite story since I’d first read it, I thought this piece deserved another mention as it managed to elicit so many different responses from me.
Sean is pig, a self professed aggressive bottom who doesn’t really think that he is a sex addict. In fact, he’s not only not sure that he is one; he’s not even clear that sex addiction exists. But as his psychiatrist reminded him, Sean is also a professional, a lawyer who should know better than to engage in risky cottage behavior at the local mall where he’d almost been caught. And he certainly should know better that engaging in unprotected sex…another reason Sean takes the good doctor’s suggestion of visiting a support group for sexual addicts. Which is where our story begins.
Sean at this, his first meeting in the Anglican church undercroft, tries to ease himself into the group with some nervous, yet suggestive humor. While the other members of the group find his humor and pig-dom titillating, the group leader tries to reign it in, attempting to focus the men on the very real reasons they have all joined this group.
As the story progresses, we and Sean meet Mike, a straight man who is only attending the group because his wife had caught him cheating with both men and women. Mike’s heady masculinity and his deep resonant voice pull Sean in, making him focus on only one thing — the thing he should most be avoiding. When the meeting adjourns, Sean lingers at the front on the church until Mike arrives. After some banter and a trip to a bar, the boys make their way to Sean’s apartment where, as Sean puts it, his “pig can get fed” in a steamy, risky romp that leaves Sean only wanting more. After Mike leaves for the evening Sean knows he’ll go back to the group. He most certainly will.
What is so impressive about the story to me is that it deftly captures so many feelings and moods in a clean, concise way. There’s the angst of admitting you have a problem, but there’s also the palpable sexual energy of a room full of men who you know have the same things — in variations — on their minds. There is the pasts of the character — especially of our leads, Sean and Mike — that makes you care about how much they have to lose; yet, the reader can’t help but be intrigued by the sex they seem bound to have. And then there is the concern over the risky behaviors in which they engage, but it is encapsulated some of the hottest (and most conservaatively written, from a prose perspective) sex scenes I think I’ve ever read.
This all leads the an interesting reaction: the reader knows these characters should be focused on their issues, but one can’t help but become intoxicated with the ripeness of possibilities in that room. In one moment you find yourself immensely concerned and the next you’re incredibly turned on. Whether all of this was the intent of Williams I can not say, but it is expertly crafted and becomes, intentionally or not, a very dynamic examination of sexual addiction that never once crosses the line into preachiness or judgment.
My reaction to the piece is perhaps best summed up by an obsevation made by one of the minor characters: “…we’re both the addict and the substance.”