In Love with Mandy: A Special Collection

By Ron Galbraith

Ron is an admitted hypersexual- someone who is obsessed with sex and feels compelled to engage in frequent sexual activity. As an independent consultant and as an instructor at a local community college, he has the opportunity to meet thousands of young women in all manner of situations- and many of them wind up naked in his bed.
Of all the dozens of women Ron has known and loved, none had a more profound impact than Mandy. Mandy aroused feelings that he had never experienced before, through two marriages and countless failed love affairs. He is afraid to let himself go, but at the same time, he is powerless to control his growing infatuation with the beautiful, complicated model- especially since he knows that she reciprocates his feelings. This special collection of four stories chronicles this love story as it develops, from the first unforgettable moment he sees her, huddled over a book in a New Orleans coffee house, to the painful, tear-filled last goodbye as she leaves his life forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ron Galbraith
• Release date: Jul 9, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463642269

Ron Galbraith

Hypersexuality is considered by most mental health professionals to be a psychological disorder, in that those who are diagnosed with it typically are obsessed with sex and feel compelled to engage in frequent sexual activity. That’s me.My name is Ron. I am a straight, white guy, by now solidly into middle age. I’m a licensed architect, and work independently, which gives me a reasonable amount of flexibility and independence, along with a decent income. I’m not rich, by any means, and I pay alimony to both of my ex-wives, but I have enough left over for some fun. I’m fit and reasonably trim- I work out almost daily and I’m careful about what I eat. I’ve been told that I’m better looking than most men my age, with a rock-hard body and sort of a rugged look, emphasized by a closely trimmed beard and tattoos on both arms.I have been hypersexual my entire life, and by now, I have had sex with hundreds of women in all manner of situations. Over the course of these adventures, I’ve learned something about how to give a woman pleasure, which is heightened somewhat by a unique anatomical anomaly. An old girlfriend bestowed the name “Mr. Curvy” to it, and that name has stuck.If anything, the pace at which I meet and have sex with girls has increased over the last few years, banging two, sometimes three new girls a week. Evoking classic pulp paperback porn of the 50s and 60s, these stories chronicle some of my favorite adventures. These are true stories of real sex with real girls; they actually happened exactly as they are described, except that the names of the women and other characters have been changed to protect their privacy.

Book preview

In Love with Mandy: A Special Collection

Copyright 2018 Ron Galbraith

Published by Ron Galbraith at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Adult Content Notes and General Disclaimer

This ebook is intended for adults only, and is not suitable for readers under 18 years of age. It contains adult content and themes, including graphic descriptions of sexual activities. All activities described herein take place between fully consenting adults who are at least 18 years of age at the time such activities take place. This ebook is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, place or event is unintentional and purely coincidental. Any mention of any trademarked property is done so without the permission of the trademark holder, and is not intended to imply any endorsement of or by such trademarked property.

Table of Contents

Note: All stories in this collection have previously been published on this site as chapters in the Mr. Curvy series.

Introduction

1: Falling in Love with Mandy

2: Loving Mandy

3: More Love with Mandy

4: Loving Mandy for the Last Time

Postscript

About Ron Galbraith

Connect with Ron Galbraith

Introduction

Hypersexuality is considered by most mental health professionals to be a psychological disorder, in that those who are diagnosed with it typically are obsessed with sex and feel compelled to engage in frequent sexual activity. That’s me.

I have been intimate with hundreds of women in my life, and I’ve had numerous love affairs. I’ve been married twice, and thought I was in love with dozens of other girls. But when I met Mandy, it was different.

There just was something about her.

It was more than her beauty, although she was one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known. She had a timeless, natural beauty, youthful and womanly at the same time. Although she was 27, she had an ageless quality- she could be any woman, all women, the essence of woman, just by an expression on her face.

Her body was flawless, slender but muscular, toned and naturally graceful. She didn’t shave, which somehow enhanced her aura of natural femininity. Her piercing blue eyes and long, thick wavy dirty-blonde hair, magically turning red and brown, according to the light, completed the package; and a cleft chin and perfect rosebud lips were the perfect counterpoints of individuality in her transcendently beautiful face.

I was far from alone in this opinion. Mandy was an actress and model, a minor celebrity in her own right. She had appeared in a few films, and on a television show or two, but her real fame was as a model. She was an accomplished artistic model, and had traveled all over the world on photo shoots, with some of the most respected artistic photographers in the field. Her image had graced countless websites, photography journals, album covers, art photography books, and even a national billboard ad campaign for a major women’s clothing manufacturer. Legions of fans followed her, posting adoring comments on every new entry on her blog.

Despite all this, she was a very complicated girl. She was extremely intelligent and well-read, and we often conversed at a deep, philosophical level. But she had severe cognitive disorders- extreme dyslexia, and she was somewhat autistic. She had difficulty with many of the things most of us take for granted, easily confused, and with no sense of direction or concept of the passage of time. She was always frustratingly late and forgetful, and always moved at a slow, deliberate pace. Her conversations were marked by abrupt changes of topic and awkward pauses, as she collected her thoughts anew for each sentence. In many ways, she was as frustrating as she was fascinating.

And she was fascinating. I was helpless from the first moment I saw her, huddled over a book in a New Orleans coffee house. I fought my growing infatuation with her to no avail, knowing from the beginning that my any relationship I could have with her would be doomed from the start- she had been planning all along to return to New York in the summer, and there was nothing I could do, or would want to do or say to keep her in New Orleans. I knew I could never make her mine, and only mine. She followed her own light, and I knew all along that all I could ever hope for was to play some small part in the story of her life.

But God, did I love her. I loved that woman with an intensity that I had never known, more than I felt for any of my wives or other lovers. I don’t know whether it was merely infatuation, or whether it was really love- as a hypersexual, I frankly can’t tell the difference. But I do know that what I felt for her was intense, powerful, and beautiful.

And I know that, at least to a degree, she reciprocated my feelings. We saw each other more and more often until she had to go, and at the end, when she told me that she loved me too, I was at once the happiest and the most miserable that I had ever been.

Yes, I know she felt something for me, but I still don’t know whether she felt it for me in the same way I did for her. I’ll never know.

But I do know that the quiet moments we shared together after making love, lying naked in each other’s arms, were some of the most profoundly beautiful moments I’ll ever have.

I miss those moments. I miss her. I always will.

And I know my life is infinitely richer for having known her. And for having loved her.

These four stories chronicle how our love developed, from the first unforgettable moment I saw her, huddled over a book in a New Orleans coffee house, to that painful, tear-filled last goodbye as she left my life forever.

1: Falling in Love with Mandy

I like to think that I’ve been intimate with hundreds of women in my life. And in the physical sense, that’s true. But true intimacy is about sharing a lot more than just bodily fluids. It’s about connecting on a deep emotional level, and allowing oneself to be vulnerable, with complete honesty and trust, with another person.

It sounds wonderful.

But I wouldn’t know. For a hypersexual like me, real intimacy is impossible. I’ve been through two marriages, and I’ve thought I’ve been in love numerous times, but it’s never worked out. It’s always seemed that we were on two different planes, not necessarily going in the same direction together.

But when I met Mandy, I thought it might be different.

She happened to be sitting in a funky little coffee shop on Magazine Street, in New Orleans’ lower Garden District, reading a book one afternoon in early January. I sat down near her, working on my laptop, and couldn’t help but notice the beautiful young woman with the piercing blue eyes, cleft chin and long, wavy dirty-blonde hair. She had an aura of timeless beauty- she could have stepped out of a Pre-Raphaelite painting. Her long, willowy body was wrapped in a flowing cotton dress, sort of hippie-like, but clean and subtly erotic in the way it suggested at her curves.

Being the hypersexual I am, I struck up a conversation, and it turned surprisingly deep. We talked about a lot of things that afternoon, from books to art, music, philosophy and religion. Mandy was no phony pseudo-intellectual; she had thought long and deep and had a fascinating, challenging perspective.

The conversation seemed awkward at first but I soon realized that it was her way… she spoke slowly, seeming to concentrate on every word, with abrupt changes of topic and long pauses between thoughts. I was mesmerized by her quiet, natural beauty, and her slow, deliberate manner. This was an amazing woman. I had to get to know her better.

We exchanged numbers, and I invited her to my place to listen to some of my jazz recordings. She did, and we talked and talked. She told me a little about her life- she was 27, but looked much younger. She had been born in Chicago, raised in the Midwest and came to New Orleans with a husband, but was now divorced. She said that she was an artistic model, and a part-time actress, having done a couple of movies and some television work. She told me she planned to return to New York in June to resume her modeling career, but it was going to be difficult for her to leave New Orleans.

And then we made love. She gave herself to me that day with a sweet, passionate intensity that I had rarely experienced before. I knew right then that Mandy was going to be a special woman in