Amazing Avril, the New Orleans Nympho: A Special Collection

By Ron Galbraith

As a lifelong hypersexual, I’ve had sex with hundreds of women in all manner of situations. Many of these have been remarkable girls, beautiful, intelligent, well-educated; often a combination of these traits. And many have been tigresses between the sheets, horny and passionate.
But very few have been what I consider to be true nymphos, aggressive and insatiable, consumed by their enjoyment of giving and receiving sexual pleasure. I’ve been lucky enough to have met some of them, however. And the one that stands out most, in my memory, is Avril. Her raw sexual energy, her insatiable passion, and her relentless pursuit of carnal pleasure put her in a class by herself. I’ve never met another quite like her. Quite frankly, Avril was the horniest girl I’ve ever met. And I know I’m incredibly lucky to have had the experience of having sex with a girl like her. A true nymphomaniac.
This small collection of three stories, with even more sizzling detail, chronicle some of my times with that incredibly horny girl, as we explored a secret world of pleasure together. I will never forget her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ron Galbraith
• Release date: Aug 10, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463657744

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.

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Amazing Avril, the New Orleans Nympho: A Special Collection

Copyright 2017-2020 Ron Galbraith

Published by Ron Galbraith at Smashwords

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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

Introduction

Chapter 1: Nasty Habits with Avril

Chapter 2: Amazing Avril

Chapter 3: Avril, the New Orleans Nympho

Postscript

About Ron Galbraith

Connect with Ron Galbraith

Introduction

As a lifelong hypersexual, I’ve had sex with hundreds of women in all manner of situations. Many of these have been remarkable girls, beautiful, intelligent, well-educated; often a combination of these traits. And some have been tigresses between the sheets, horny and aggressive.

But very few have been what I consider to be true nymphos, horny and insatiable, consumed by their enjoyment of giving and receiving sexual pleasure. I’ve been lucky enough to have met some of them, however. And the one that stands out most, in my memory, is Avril.

I met Avril by chance, when she was waitressing in a creole restaurant in New Orleans’ French Quarter. I was immediately attracted to her lean, willowy body, her long, thick dirty-blonde hair, and the graceful way in which she moved. Her face, frankly, was a bit angular, but she was more than pretty enough for Mr. Curvy, with big, expressive brown eyes and a wide, sensual mouth.

It turned out that she was a young student at the community college where I worked part-time, but thankfully, she was not in my department. The attraction seemed to be mutual, and Avril agreed to come to my place after her shift that day. It seemed like it was only a matter of minutes before our clothes flew off, and I was amazed by her extraordinary sexual energy, aggressive and insatiable in bed. I realized that had discovered a true nympho.

Even though I was having sex with different girls almost nightly, Avril took a special place in my world. I became addicted to her joyful enthusiasm of sex, and she clearly loved the way Mr. Curvy made her feel, deep inside. We saw each other frequently, and each time, it was a frenzy of fervent, passionate sex.

We saw each other for a few months, but eventually, Avril transferred to a university in Texas and faded out of my life. But I still shake my head in amazement when I remember her mind-blowing passion, her sexual energy, and her relentless, insatiable enjoyment of sensual pleasure. I know I’m damn lucky to have had that experience.

The following three stories chronicle some of those times with that incredibly horny girl, as we explored a secret world of pleasure together. I will never forget her.

Chapter 1: Nasty Habits with Avril

The French Quarter of New Orleans is a unique place, a little slice of 18th Century France, transplanted to the United States and preserved as if in amber. It’s been a tourist mecca for well over a hundred years, but the glut of teeshirt shops and tourist bars hasn’t taken it over completely. Yet.

I’ve been all around the world, and there’s no place quite like it. I lived a couple of blocks from its border, and I loved to walk through the Quarter, as it is referred to locally, taking in its unique architecture and sense of place. There was always something new or different to see. And of course, there were usually dozens of hot tourist girls roaming around. Icing on the cake for a hypersexual like me.

I often liked to stop off at a creole restaurant on Chartres Street, located on a corner a little more than halfway through the Quarter. It was on the ground floor of an ancient building, and usually the old doors all were open wide to let in the breeze. It was a little funky, not too touristy, and it served good creole food at reasonable prices. It was my kind of place.

What I liked best about it, though, were the servers. Whoever hired them must have had the same taste I did, because they always seemed to be young, pretty college-age girls. There was frequent turnover, typical for those kinds of jobs, and I usually had a delightful new surprise whenever I went there. Like I said, it was my kind of place.

It was a chilly Saturday morning in February, and I had decided to take a walk through the Quarter to clear my head. Mr. Curvy had been on a tear the last week, fucking four different girls in three days. The latest one, a tall, lean, nineteen-year old brunette, had just gone home from spending the night, after a sweet, slow early-morning fuck, which had culminated into a pounding, screaming mutual orgasm. Sweet girl, but I needed to be alone for a while.

I showered, and then I took off for the Quarter, the memory of the girl’s kisses still on my lips. I walked along Chartres Street, pausing to admire the museum-quality French antiques in the shop windows, and then passing the St. Louis Cathedral, flanked by the Cabildo and the Presbytere; the heart of the Quarter. The plaza in front was almost deserted, the fortune-tellers huddled over their Ouija Boards, and the artists talking quietly among each other. A chilly fog hung in the air from the Mississippi River, a block and a half away. A perfect New Orleans winter morning.

I walked further downriver, strolling slowly, enjoying the atmosphere. My stomach rumbled suddenly, and I realized that all I had that morning was the cup of coffee I had shared with the brunette. I knew I was only a few blocks