Today has been, perhaps, one of the most stressful days I’ve had in about six months. And there is a direct correlation between my stress levels and my sex cravings. I want nothing more than to be ravaged. I want rough, hard sex. I want to be battered by a hard fierce cock. I want bite marks on my breasts. I want a coupling that, were it to be viewed objectively, would look more like an attack than anything else.
I could text Lover. I could text him right this second. I could drive ten minutes and have the above thoughts turned into reality. And I might.
But I’m undecided. Things are flowing with Nathan, my out of town friend. We’re pairing like new cheese and old wine, each bringing out the best in the other. But he’s not here. And damn it. I’m on edge.