11:30pm. Downtown Memphis. It doesn't matter what day of the week it is, every summer night in that river town is alive with an electricity that I find overwhelming and addicting. 

Almost as addicting as the skinhead riding in the passenger seat of my car. 

This could be a carbon copy of the night before if it wasn't for the way Hando was dressed this time. Last night, we cruised up to Cooper Street, home of Memphis Tattooland. Getting tats re-inked is nothing like having them applied initially. You get the exquisite pain without the hurt... Don't understand? Get a tat! You will! Last night was above the waist - tonight is below. And how!

Perched next to me in my car is a fine alpha male specimen wearing only a pair of very loose fitting grey athletic shorts and some flip flops. He deduced that the artist could reach the tats on his thighs easier this way. I asked if he planned on wearing a shirt, to which I received an evil snarl and a lick of his lips. He tilted his head to the side:  

"Thought you'd like it if I didn't." 

Bastard. He knows me too well already. 

The flip flops? Well, even he thought he'd look funny with the boots and shorts - who am I to argue with the Master Race? 

An hour later..................

He's been in the chair for 45 minutes now as Shaun (the artist) tediously fills in his fading graffiti with new delicious black ink. Hando is in a trance. His eyes are fully dilated and fixed staring forward. I can see that his nipples have the consistency of steel nubs. Goose pimples are visible on every inch of exposed skin. His toes are curled. His jaw is set. He is sporting the mother of all hard-ons. I swear I think I'm salivating.

I can't decide what is arousing me more - the thought of his experience at this point in time- or the notion of what that tent pole would feel like, if I walked up right now and pleasured myself on it.

Oops. He must've read my thoughts. His head swiveled around to face me. 'I'm gonna eat ya alive, you little whore,' was engraved all over his face. 'And you'll beg me for more...'

Damn. There, I've gone and done it now. He knows how bad I want it - and that's not good. It'll be too easy for him. How could I help it? I could see his cock twitch in his shorts. My breasts began to tingle. Miss "In Control" was losing it. My body was betraying me. I shivered. I felt my panties become soaked.

Hando rested his head back in the chair and chuckled. Beads of sweat on his forehead and chest reflected the overhead lighting. 

Fuck. 

Last night was a blur. He had been so wrought up from the inking that he was a machine. SID would have even been impressed - if it were possible. I was even treated to a display of him whacking the Master. I tell you - until you've seen Hando wrap his big tattooed paw around that thick tool while he's relating every licentious detail about what he's going to do to you - you ain't seen nothing!

You have to hand it to a man who can pleasure his own self and get off on his own voice talking about what he's gonna do with his oversized organ. 

Go Hando, Go...

What would tonight be like? I could only wait and see. Another 30 minutes and 

Shaun should be done. 

I walked over and gazed at the belly-button rings and posts locked in the glass case in the adjoining room. Mmm...maybe I will take the plunge and have that done while we are here. Which one should I choose?

"Don't even think about it." The predatory growl came from nowhere. 

"Wha...?" I squeaked out - he had startled me.

"No sheila of mine is gonna be done up like a pin cushion - I can get all the cunt like that I want in Footscray, if I wanted it." 

I was too tired to argue. Hando slipped his arm around my waist and pressed his need against my back. 

He nibbled my ear lobe and murmured, "Don't look so sad, can'tcha feel what I'm gonna go home and pierce ya with, luv?" 

I didn't think it was possible, but my knickers managed to get wetter than they already were. He could stand there all night and talk to me that way - with that voice - and I could cum for him a million times, if he wanted.

Bloody wanker. 

The drive home was definitely more eventful than the night before. Hando's tongue was firmly rooted in my ear, while his hands went to work down below. I had two near-misses driving over the bridge along with the 4 orgasms I had during the entire journey home.

Thinking he was showing his gentle side, he hoisted me up into his arms as I tried to get out of the car. He carried me to the bedroom and undressed me gently. I layed down and rolled over, snuggling up to my pillow to sleep. I felt him slip into bed. Then...

"Owwwwww! Hando noooooooooo. Oh God.....yessssssssssssss."

He had a firm grip on my waist as he pummeled me from behind. He bit my shoulder and grunted. 

Oh yes...it was going to be a long night...

I'll be begging him for more, shortly...