We have a lazy weekend, but day by day, it builds. The urge, the need, the want for some intensity. I feel like I start to go crazy without it, a physical and emotional purge that resets and calms me. Plus, I get to be little after it, a state that comforts me so much these days. It’s like a duel of two addictions warring with me and each other, slipping from one to the other. A rollercoaster like none other, and I wouldn’t have it any other way most days. It’s a dangerous feeling when I’m depressed, but he watches me for that, telling me no when he needs to, even if it would mean fun for him.

But I’m not depressed tonight. I feel good. I feel hungry. I’m full of life and empty simultaneously, and I need to vent. He comes in from the garage, sweating from the heat and the humidity, covered in grease and dirt from working on his Harley. I give him a cold beer and a wink, looking up at him. He sees that twinkle in my eye, and if he’s tired, he hides it well. In a second, that beer is forgotten as he’s kissing me hard, pressing his sweat-soaked body against mine, kissing me hard and full of need. I reach down, and indeed he’s full of need as well, as I unzip and stroke his cock. He smells delicious, like a man who has worked hard should. I savor it as I slide down and start sucking his cock.

It’s salty, musky, and I grab his ass hard as he shoves my head into the wall. Not violently, but not gently either. There is a knock, and my throat tenses around his cock momentarily. I look up, and he’s wild as well now, shoving his pants down. I take his thrusts as his hips mash my nose, lightly banging my head against the wall for probably half a minute before he pulls away. He kicks off his pants, grabs a fist full of my hair, and jerks me up, kissing me again. He slaps me hard, making my eyes water as I smile at him, and we kiss again. I’m almost biting his lip as we kiss, and he strips me. My clothes are quickly discarded, and he grabs my arm and jerks me after him, smiling almost dumbly as I follow him to the bedroom.

Once in, he kisses me deeply again, then shoves me hard onto the bed. I beam, getting fully on it, and he tosses off his shirt and gets over me, his weight pressing into me as we make out. I push him onto his back, and climb on him, telling him I fucking need his cock in me. I straddle him and grab his dick, moaning as he pushes inside me as I grind down onto him. I don’t waste time as I start riding him for all he’s worth. At first, he’s got a firm grip on my hips, but he soon reaches up, balling his fist in my hair as he jerks my head down. He kisses me hard, then slaps me, and I whimper into his ear, “harder.”

That’s all the permission he needs, not that he truly needs it. He slaps me harder and backhands me before jerking me down to kiss him again. I’m crying now, dazed, and my cheeks hot from the backhand. He pushes me away, and I start humping him, back arched. I love the sound of his moans and grunts as I ride him, feeling him thrust inside me, my cunt soaked for him. His hands slide up my stomach to my pierced nipples, pinching them none too hard. I roll my head back, moaning. Then he grasps my 36C tits, holding them in his large hands, and squeezes. I scream, tensing on his cock as he just mashes the meat of my tits in his hands as I writhe on his cock. He is gentle with my new piercings, but he mauls the rest of my chest, enjoying my screams as he crushes his fingertips into them. My eyes water as I look down at him, riding him even harder. He lets go, and the blood flows, bright white finger spots on them. I pant, trembling at the sudden change in sensation. He grabs right above my hips and squeezes my sides, pulling me deep against him, pushing my sides in. I shudder, whimpering until I cry out, and he stops again, smiling. He holds my chin, whispering that he loves me right before he lets go and slaps me once, twice, three times. I’m drooling and shaking and sobbing all at once, and I start fucking him again.