by Maggie Voysest

When Gigi Went Without Sex for Two Months

It all began the night Gigi first went out with her blonde bombshell twins, Helen and Heidi. She’d been texting the whole crazy conclusion of the evening to her sweet and sexy Bellevue Dad Chad. “I really wish Heidi had picked you tonight, and you were sitting here with me, instead of Jerk Thing #1 and Jerk Thing #2. What was Heidi thinking? You are such a total sweetheart, and not like these rude, crude jerks.” But Heidi had left Chad all alone that night, after a few hours of serious flirting with him. She had begun to flirt with someone else, and so Chad had left, quite unaccustomed to being abandoned for another man. Gigi had watched him leave, sadly, thinking to herself that she never would have let him walk away.

Yet when Gigi told him what Jerks she was stuck with, Chad had ended up coming to the Coney Island where they were eating, even though he’d already gone home. Gigi was stuck in a booth with no easy escape route, with no seeming way out. All she had was her lifeline to Chad. Her Iphone. Through it she was able to escape the Jerks who were ruining her night, and making her consider do and say things no lady, not even a Gigi-type lady, should ever say. So instead she texted a running commentary to Chad, telling him all the things the Jerks were doing and saying, and Chad came to the rescue.

Was he thinking of helping Gigi? Rescuing Heidi? Whatever his reasons, Gigi was strangely touched. He soon saw that Gigi had everything under control, and that she would let no harm (or strange men) come to her twins, and he left her, with coffee in one hand and two coney dogs in a bag in the other hand (coney dogs he’d soon be choking on, as Gigi kept texting him long after he’d gone). Their texting continued until almost 5 in the morning, and she had Chad in tears of laughter. “You need to write about this night in your memoirs,” he told her. “Oh baby, I’m writing right now as we text. I’ve been taking notes on my Iphone all night.” That Iphone had more than paid for itself, with all the use Gigi got out of it. Uses Apple probably never intended on, but which worked quite well for Gigi.

At the club that night, Chad and Gigi had discussed men and women and relationships, and the picking up of strangers at clubs. Gigi asked him why men ask for a girl’s phone number and then never call. He said that women did it too. “Really?“ asked Gigi. “Why do people play these games? Why lead people on and make them think you are interested in them, and then never call? Why tease them if you have no intentions of carrying it through? This is just one of the many reasons that I am so thoroughly confused!” Chad told her that he thought some people were just cruel that way or liked playing games.

“I’m not like that,“ said Gigi. “I don’t start something I have no intention on finishing.”

Chad told her that he didn’t play that game either. “That’s not how I get down,” he said. He told her he loved women. Gigi told him she loved men, whereas she was really thinking how she’d love to just play with sexy ass Chad, and have him show her just how he gets “down.”

Later that night they continued their conversation on their phones, texting till the wee hours of the morning. They wondered why even just having sex was so complicated these days. Chad told her he thought it was because emotions get involved. He even said he almost understood why the Bible said that people should wait to get married before having sex. He added that it would be very hard to do, but that he understood the principal of it.

“No sex unless you are married?“ exclaimed Gigi. “Are you nuts? I’d go stark raving mad. I can’t last two weeks without sex. And I even have this amazing toy that thrusts!!”

“I bet you couldn’t go through a month without sex,” he said with a knowing laugh.
Gigi thought to herself that if he only knew the fantasies she’d had about him many a night, and still managed to refrain from throwing herself on him, he wouldn’t smirk so knowingly.

“I could do it if I had to,” said Gigi. “I just don’t want to.”

“Oh, baby girl, you wouldn’t last a month,” Chad grinned at her, as though he had Gigi all figured out. God, Gigi loved it when he called her baby girl.

Poor Chad. He had no idea what he was about to get himself into. “Deal,” said Gigi. “I’ll abstain from sex for two whole months starting right now. But if I make it… I get YOU for one whole night of mad, crazy, end-of-abstinence sex. You will be mine and do everything I tell you to do to me, and let me do whatever I want to you in return.”

Chad agreed, telling himself that the Gigi he knew from the clubs would never last two whole months without sex. His body was surely safe from her. She’d never even come close to making it. Now they couldn’t shake hands on it, since they were texting, but Gigi told him she was saving the text as proof. “I’ll copy and paste it, and we’ll both sign at the bottom, to make sure that no one welshes out on the deal.”

Gigi actually printed it out, laminated it, and kept it on her person from that moment on. Kind of like a fat photo on the fridge to stop you from eating. On the back of the agreement was a photo of gorgeous, sexy Chad, to show her what the reward could be. Chad never got to see the back part of what he’d signed, but it was like that fine print you never bother to read. It’s there, but you don’t read it. And you are still bound by the terms because you signed, even if you didn’t bother reading it all.

“Can I use my toys during these two months of abstinence?”

“Of course” said Chad. “I don’t want you to be completely deprived.” So the next morning when Gigi woke up, she went to the closest Lover’s Lane, and spent several hundred dollars on new toys. There were so many to choose from. Toys that vibrated and thrust. Toys of all sizes and materials: soft and rubbery, hard and metallic. Toys that had fake pearls that twirled around inside. Pearls? Are you kidding me? Who comes up with these ideas for toys that make the real sexual act almost nowhere near as pleasurable? What man had pearls in his whatsit, pearls that formed dozens of little pressure points? There were toys that had hard knobs of steel that gyrated, grinded, and twisted like a screwdriver. Toys with different speeds and motions. Toys toys toys. Men should sue Lover’s Lane for making them unnecessary at times. “I can do this,” said Gigi, as she looked at her three bags filled with new toys. “Who needs a man when I can have all this pleasure on my own?” All she had to do next was stop and buy two month’s worth of batteries.

That first week was amazing. Every time Gigi got horny (which was practically every night), she’d simply open up a new box, and try out her new toy. “Still abstaining,” she’d text Chad. “Want me to call you and let you hear the vibrating toy as proof?”

“No, thanks,” said Chad, the first wrinkle of worry appearing on his forehead, as he contemplated the idea that Gigi might actually make it two months. “Naw,” he managed to convince himself. “No toy could replace a man.” Of course, he hadn’t seen all the toys in Gigi’s arsenal. Gigi was like a kid at Christmas, or probably more like Hannukah since she got a new one every day for a week. I wonder if the garbage collectors saw the dozens of boxes that Friday at trash pick up day. Even Gigi would have blushed if she’d seen the look on their faces…

By the second week Gigi was seriously asking herself if having Bellevue Dad for one night was worth two months of abstinence. Her new toys were no longer as exciting, not even the one with the pump that imitated great oral sex. She missed the kissing and the hugging, the touching and the eye contact, the feel of skin against skin. By now, Gigi had broken two of her new toys, and this was one thing you could not return and replace if broken. “You break it, you keep it, you buy a new one. You should have been more gentle on your toys,” one sex store assistant had told Gigi the last time she broke a toy and wanted the store to give her a new one or a refund. But Gigi didn’t do gentle, not even (or especially not with?) her toys.

So Gigi was all too soon in a totally foul mood. This no sex thing really sucked. Sunny, cheerful, vivacious Gigi had turned into dragon lady from hell. She yelled at her students. She yelled at her sons. She yelled at her dog and cats, and began looking with disgust at the vow she’d printed out: “No sex for two months, get Chad for one night.” “What was I thinking? I can’t do this!!” Thank God that Gigi had a very creative imagination, and not one to give up easily.

She then turned to porn websites and even rented porn videos on her cable. But Gigi was not really into porn. She thought that maybe it was more of a male thing. She didn’t really know that many women who were into watching porn when on their own. Gigi only owned one porn video, and always felt kind of funny watching it on her own. She’d for sure turn the sound completely down, because she found that it turned her off rather than on. It came across so fake and contrived, and it was almost always terrible acting.

Gigi’s sailor Julian (from last summer in Spain) had told her that he had done porn movies when he was younger, and had recently been asked to make another one. “I’m dating an ex-porn star?” Gigi had asked herself at the time, half in horror, and half in amazement, and yes, with just a smidgen of titillating thrill. Could her life get any stranger? She didn’t really mind his having done porn movies in the past (it actually explained A LOT… as in why he was so good at what he did best). However, Gigi didn’t think she wanted to date a current porn star, and have to measure up to female actresses, with their perfect bodies and imaginative, creative, energetic porn moves. Gigi might have those famous tatas, but her body was nowhere near perfect, and she knew she would not have liked seeing her man doing unto others what he did so well to her.

Julian had tried to convince Gigi that being a porn star was just acting, and not a job, and never pleasurable for those taking part in it. Gigi didn’t know what to think of that. Surely the men must feel pleasure and attraction, otherwise how would they perform ever so convincingly? He told her that being a porn star was like working at a donut factory, and that after a while, you’d get tired of eating so many donuts. Hmmm… Gigi just couldn’t see any man getting tired of eating THAT kind of a donut, no matter how many times he got to eat one. They’d had a huge email blow-up about it (fighting long distance is no fun at all, and there is no chance for great make-up sex). Gigi had ended by telling him that he was free to do as he wished, but that if he was going to do porn movies while he was supposedly her man, then she would go do some unpaid, untaped porn of her own. What’s sauce for the gander, is sauce for the goose. Now that idea, Julian didn’t like so much. He even compared his porn acting job to Gigi’s!! Oh yes… teaching is just like acting in a porn…NOT!!

When watching porn didn’t work, Gigi found a great and cheap toy website, and was soon ordering the vibrating panties she’d seen recently in the movie The Ugly Truth. In the movie, the panties had vibrated so vigorously that the actress had had an orgasm in the middle of a business dinner. As Gigi walked around one day in public wearing her vibrating panties, she began to feel a little better. However, she had the panties on at full strength, and every time she passed a grown-up, they’d hear the only slightly muffled vibration noise, and they’d immediately check their pockets for their cell phones, looking around in confusion when they saw they had not received a phone call. Gigi couldn’t help snickering at that, and would then surreptitiously turn down the strength. Yes, these vibrating panties came with a fricking remote control!! What will they think of next? Gigi went through a whole pack of batteries for this toy in just one day, and soon decided the slow vibration was not worth the cost of batteries.

By the fourth week, Gigi had almost resorted to ice packs in her panties, and multiple cold showers. They were supposed to work wonders for men… so why the hell didn’t they work for her? Would calling Marvin, her current favorite booty guy for just oral sex count as sex?

“Yes, it would so count as sex,” said Chad, when she called him to ask, wanting to be honest about the whole thing and not cheat in the slightest. He gave himself a high five, as he thought that it wouldn’t be much longer before Gigi gave in. He began to think what he could demand in return if she lost her bet… Maybe another weekend spent with her and the twins? This time with him getting more than just a dance or two…

Gigi began to do things she had done as a teenager: Sit on very hard pillows. Read titillating sex novels. Watch “The Story of O”, a great French porno movie that actually had a plot and story line. She sent dozens of naughty texts to past booty guys, just hoping to get some kind of release. She almost gave in and called her hot, black, favorite current booty guy Marvin. Then she’d hear the amusement in Chad’s voice when they talked, and she would cross her legs extra tight, and tell herself that she could do this. That it was now a matter of pride, and she had to do it. She cursed the day she had ever met Bellevue Dad and made that silly outrageous bet.

But Gigi was very stubborn. She was half Hungarian and half Catalan, both well-known for their stubborn temperaments. She’d go the full two months if it killed her. She called a friend she had in the U.S. Navy and asked him what they gave sailors to make them less horny. The phone connection was really bad, so when he said “saltpeter” she thought he simply said “salt” and so she ate salty food for the rest of the week, until Helen laughingly told her that it was not salt, but saltpeter. Gigi didn’t even begin to know where one gets saltpeter, or what it looks like, or how one takes it, and decided it might be safer to refrain from trying.

Now Gigi hated exercise, except for dancing, but she was ready to try anything. She started running around her neighborhood every time she got horny. But then she’d run into a hot guy running near her, in tight jogging shorts, and she would start to follow him and just drool. She pretended to run into one, so she could fall on top of him, and just try to cop a quick feel. But that only made it worse. She actually lost weight with this activity, but what good would that do her, if she couldn’t show off her loss of weight? Chad would simply laugh at her when she called in her weekly update. Every time she called him, he felt more comfortable in the bet and the certainty that she’d lose, but strangely enough, she’d feel stronger and more confident that she could do it.

Gigi’s life had become like the episode of Seinfeld when Elaine would think twice, and three times and more, about having sex with someone, because she only had a few of her favorite contraceptive sponges left, and she had to decide if the guy was “sponge-worthy” or not, most often deciding not, and going without. Of course Gigi was going without because of a silly bet made one night at 2:30 in the morning, when she’d been frustrated with her sex life, and also tempted with the tantalizing promise of having an experience with Bellevue Dad that she’d dreamed about for many years. Bellevue Dad had been written about briefly in her chapter on men who always make you feel good because it’s just flirting and no sex, and therefore cannot go wrong. Gigi had temporarily lost her mind, and was now stuck in a bet that she was set on winning.

Gigi had a calendar (with pictures not of hot guys, but of puppies and kittens, so as to keep her more centered, and less obsessed with sex, not that it worked in the slightest), and every day she’d X out one less day of no sex. She had to give Chad weekly updates, but she also updated her girl friends. Actually they got daily updates, and they did their best to take her mind off sex, by taking her to the movies, shopping, and shoe buying. They knew Gigi was in trouble when none of these was fun for her anymore. So instead they began to tell her to fill her nights with fantasies of just what she could do to Chad when she got her hot, eager, little hands on him, and replenished her sex-starved body. If Chad had known any of this, he would have run for the hills. Instead he felt supremely confident that Gigi was either on the verge of giving in, or had actually already given in, and just had not told him yet.

Suddenly Gigi turned a page of the calendar and saw that she was on her last week. Chad realized it also, woke up in a sweaty panic, and began to play dirty by sending her naughty photos in texts, links to sex websites in emails, and even got a few guys to send her suggestive texts and invitations to come over to see their “etchings.” But Gigi just ate a lot of her favorite chocolate cake at her favorite restaurant, and quickly gained back the weight she’d lost jogging. Gigi called that cake her ‘better-than-sex” cake or her “pick-me-up” cake. She’d eat it whenever someone had just broken up with her, or whenever she needed an orgasm-like feeling. It was “Truly Scrumptious” like the character in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, and had cheered her up on many an occasion.

Suddenly one bright and sunny day, Gigi saw that somehow the two months had passed. She had actually made it through the two months of no sex. Absolutely no sex. With any man at all. No phone sex. Nothing beyond a few sexy texts. Gigi realized that she had actually won the bet. That Bellevue Dad would finally, after all these years, be totally hers for one long, and hopefully unforgettable night. She had just a twinge of misgiving. What if he didn’t measure up? What if she’d have been better off with the unfulfilled fantasy of Bellevue Dad? Could she live with a possible disappointment? I think yes.

Now Gigi didn’t know where Chad lived, since she had never been to his place before. But Gigi had ways of finding out things like this. They had friends in common. And when Gigi really truly wanted something, Gigi somehow got. And Gigi wanted this. She deserved this. She’d downright earned this! Chad was hers. She’d won, and he’d lost, and now he had to deliver. She thought that the best thing to do would be to simply show up at his doorstep and take what was hers, so that he couldn’t get out of it with excuses, and previous unavoidable commitments. Nope. She had to find him at home, and not give him a chance to disappear or run away.

Now poor Chad, unknowingly and of course, totally erroneously, felt somewhat safe when the two months were over, telling himself all he had to do now was avoid any place Gigi might show up at, and then maybe with time, she’d forget about the conclusion of the bet. He didn’t even think it strange when he hadn’t heard from Gigi in a few days, but quite honestly, he had forgotten when the bet began and when it was scheduled to end. We all know how bad guys are on remembering even the important dates like birthdays and anniversaries. Who’d remember the date of a bet? He hadn’t counted on Gigi’s elephant-like memory. She could quote from memory the last time she had slept with someone, and even when her friends had last been with someone or broken up with them.

One night, or very early morning, Chad heard a knock on his door at 2:30 AM, and wondered who the heck it was. He opened the door, and in walked Gigi, wearing nothing, but a little black lace teddy, fishnet garters, high hooker black heels, a whip in one hand, and a can of whipped cream in the other. Chad’s mouth fell open. “It’s been two months, Chad,” said Gigi. “Two long, sexually frustrating months of no sex. Two months of not leaving my house at night. Two months of NO FLIRTING for fear of where it would lead. Two months of toys, and batteries and cold showers. Well, I did it. I went through two months of no sex and now it is time to pay the piper.” Gigi licked her lips as she looked at Chad, wearing only long briefs that hugged every delicious inch of his body.

“So how do I know that you really didn’t have any sex?” asked Chad, in a frantic attempt to escape this sex deprived Gigi with a manic look on her face. Gigi flung down a sheath of papers.
“There you go,” she said. “Here’s my affidavit, signed by every bouncer and bar tender at the clubs I go to, saying that I have not been there in two months. It’s also signed by my girls that I have abstained completely. My students signed that I’ve been an absolute terror. My sons have signed that I’ve stayed home with them every night. I even had my usual booty call men sign that you’ve deprived them of the best sex they’ve ever had. And if you need a final affidavit, I will take you to my father’s grave in Royal Oak, and swear to you over his grave that I have had NO sex in TWO months. Chad, baby, it’s time to pay the piper.” Gigi kicked the door closed with one ridiculously high heel, and slowly pushed Chad in the direction of what she hoped was his bedroom. Although after two months, she could have ravished his hot body anywhere at all… kitchen ,bathroom, laundry room, anywhere with a flat surface.
All that was heard was Chad’s voice say, “Oh my God,” as Gigi took his long briefs off…with her teeth.

Five hours later, Gigi left Chad spent, sore, drained, and with a huge ass grin on his face. As he slowly try to regain his senses in his nether regions, he swore to himself he would never dare a woman again to go two months without sex. Although, he had to admit, that it had been worth every mad, crazy, frantic moment. He had just enough strength left to waggle his fingers in Gigi’s general direction. Gigi simply threw on a long, black leather coat over her lingerie, tucked the whip into a pocket, threw the empty can of whipped cream into a trashcan on her way out, licked her lips just one more time, and left. “My work is done here,” she thought, as Chad wondered if he could make it to the kitchen to get some ice for his lower extremities. Gigi smiled to herself, and as soon as no one was in sight, she did her happy dance. “I’ll never, ever do that again,” she swore to herself. “But it was worth every agonizing moment.” That night, Gigi put away her toys deep under her bed, texted her favorite booty men, and told them she was once again in the market. But that she’d need just a day or two to get the soreness out of her long unused muscles.

To read Part XXIII, see The Adventures of a Thoroughly Confused Gigi – Part XXIII