I went to my usual tattoo studio for a quick touch-up on my thigh, but things escalated fast. My artist is this rugged guy covered in ink himself, and every time his hands brushed my skin, I got wetter and wetter. When he finished, I couldn’t hold back. I spread my legs a bit, showing the tiny lace thong I’d worn, and whispered, “I want you to fuck me. Right here.”

He didn’t hesitate just flipped me over onto the tattoo chair and pushed inside, filling me inch by inch. His hands gripped my hips, slamming into me hard, every thrust making me gasp as he took me like I’d always imagined. The wet sounds, the feeling of his cock stretching me everything was perfect. I came so hard, crying out as he kept going until he finished, filling me up completely.

When it was over, I looked back at him, breathless. “Think I’ll need another session soon,” I teased.

“Anytime,” he grinned. “I’ll make sure it’s unforgettable.”