Page 203 of S is for SEX

BLAKE

My subconscious fears had become reality. Sex wasn’t something I desired or wanted from time to time, it was an addiction. At first I believed it to be no different than anything else new to me. As a child and as an adult, whatever was new to me - as long as I enjoyed it - received all undivided attention. As a kid, my new bicycle was my focus. As an adult, my newest motorcycle received my attention. Whenever I made a new tattoo machine or purchased a new television, they were the objects of my desire until something newer or more interesting came along.

I dismissed my initial desire to have repeated sex with Riley to this old pattern of behavior for the first few days, but now, after two weeks of time had passed, I realized I had a problem.

Choosing whether or not to address the problem was something I had yet to decide.

The chair’s used by tattoo artists are chosen as a matter of personal preference, and typically most artists choose to recondition or rebuild a vintage dentist’s chair. My personal favorite was the Ritter from the 1930’s I had recovered and refinished to an almost new state. One advantage of using the Dentist chair was the chair’s ability to adjust into almost any position from flat to upright, and everything in between.

At present, my chair was almost flat, with the upper portion slightly elevated. Riley was in it backward, with her legs dangling over the portion designed for the head, and her pussy elevated to a perfect height.

And I stood behind the chair doing what Riley described as the required precursor to sex, her moaning echoed throughout the shop.

“If you keep wiggling around, I’m going to spin this chair around and shove you full of dick,” I said as I pulled my face from between her legs.

“No. No. Don’t do that. I’ll hold still, I swear,” she begged.

“You better,” I said as I pressed my palms against her inner thighs.

She lowered her head onto the cushion of the chair. “I will.”

After watching her sink her upper teeth into her lower lip, I buried my face between her legs and began to suck on her clit.

As I fingered her slowly and methodically, I flicked my tongue against her nub. Appearing to be uncertain if she wanted to continue or run away, she raised her hips for a few seconds, allowed me to have my way with her, and eventually lowered her hips and began to squirm along the leather cushion in an attempt to get away.

Five minutes into her indecisive behavior, and I did my best to appear to be angry with her.

“That’s it,” I bellowed as I slapped my hand against the side of the chair, causing it to spin in a circle.

“What?” she snapped back as she spun past me.

“You can’t fucking hold still. That’s it,” I said.

“I’ve had so many orgasms I feel like I’m going to pop or something, I’m sorry, it’s sensitive,” she said as the chair came to a stop.

Without warning, I pressed the lever on the side of the chair, lowering the end of it to a flat position; causing her hips to be at the same elevation as her head. Now with her knees bent and her lags dangling over the end of the chair, I reached for my belt as I shook my head from side-to-side.

She batted her eyes and grinned. “What?”

“Here’s what,” I said as I pushed my jeans to my thighs.

I grabbed her ankles, pulled her toward me slightly, and guided myself into her wet pussy.

“Oh God…” she moaned as I slowly pushed myself into her.

I watched the length of my cock slowly disappear. After burying it as deep as possible, I pulled back slightly, grinning at the sight of the glistening shaft as it slowly slid free of her dripping pussy. Seeing her excitement spread all over my throbbing flesh was enough to feed me with energy for an entire evening.

“You know what I like about fucking you in the shop?” I asked as I began to work my hips back and forth.

“Uhhm…what?” she asked, her breathing already becoming labored.

I exhaled my response with another quick thrust of my cock. “Everything.”

“You’re…breaking…” she paused and raised herself onto her elbows. “The rules…No fucking in…the shop.”

“Rules are made to be broken,” I said as I continued to work my hips back and forth, attempting to maintain focus on my cock as it repeatedly disappeared inside of her.

I found the process of having sex to be much more than entertaining; it was an almost magical experience. The human body was designed to do exactly what we were doing, and I planned on continuing until I was incapable.

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