A couple of months ago, during the summer, my husband and I were invited to our neighbor’s barbecue—a get-together with other neighbors and local residents to celebrate the holidays.

Before diving into the story, it's important to note that none of them know about my masturbation addiction. I mean, I masturbate… a lot. It’s become such a habit lately that I carry a small vibrator with me at all times. I do it almost anywhere and everywhere. If I’m with friends or family members, I’ll excuse myself to relieve my pussy of its desperate needs. My device is quiet enough to be masked when I go to the bathroom, so even when I'm with other girls in the bathroom, there’s no excuse not to satiate my hunger.

My husband is completely clueless about this. Of course, he satisfies me plenty, but he never knew the extent or frequency of my needs to be fucked.

My husband and I have always been friendly with our neighbors, but I’ve had the feeling that Mary (not her real name), the wife of our neighbor, didn’t like me very much. It’s like she always sees me as a bother, sniffing in disapproval whenever I’m enjoying myself. Her husband, Frank, on the other hand, is charming and friendly. I don’t pay much attention to Mary and keep my distance from her because of this.

As we arrived at the barbecue, everyone was lively and ready to have a good time. But it didn’t take long for me to feel the unbearable urge to relieve myself. I politely excused myself from the crowd and my husband, heading straight to the bathroom. On my way there, I ran into Frank.

He grinned at me flirtatiously and started complimenting me, saying how good I looked and how lucky my husband was. By this point, my pussy was throbbing, and his compliments made me want to grab him and let him fuck my brains out. It would, after all, teach that bitch Mary a lesson. But somehow, I managed to hold back and politely told him I desperately needed to go to the bathroom - which I really did.

After descending a flight of stairs, I entered the small bathroom, and in a near-panic to relieve myself. I locked the door behind me, shoved the vibrator deep into my dripping pussy, and set it to pulsation mode on my phone. As I increased the intensity, I found it impossible not to moan. The earlier encounter with Frank had my head spinning. By this point, I wasn’t even trying to hide the moaning; I gripped the sink tightly as my legs shook with every pounding motion.

Suddenly, I heard shouting and a loud bang right outside the bathroom door. It was Mary, screaming, "I know she’s in there, that stupid skank! Get her the fuck out, right now!" Other neighbors tried to calm her down, but I heard another loud bang and footsteps approaching. My heart raced as I pulled my pants up, stopping all sound. A rush of adrenaline hit me as I searched frantically for a way out, but the only exit was the door.

Then the footsteps stopped right outside the door, and Mary began kicking it, demanding I come out. Hesitantly, I turned the doorknob and opened it—only to be greeted by Mary pointing a gun at me, her eyes blazing with fury. A small crowd of guests surrounded her, staring in shock. "Where is he?! I know he’s in there!" she screamed, frantically searching the room.

When she realized I was alone, her face went pale. She immediately apologized and ran back upstairs, her face red with embarrassment, tears streaming down her cheeks.

It turns out Mary had suspected me of having an affair with Frank. He had a history of cheating, and Mary thought this was the final straw. Ever since, I’ve been hesitant to attend any neighborhood events.

I wish I could say this experience curbed my lust or reduced my need to masturbate and fuck, but it hasn’t—if anything, it’s only made my desire stronger.