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My first tattoo will live with me forever. I was young and had been wanting one for years, but I was too scared to go through with it. I was terrified of the pain and the fact that it would last forever. I was also raised in an extremely strict, conservative, and religious household, and I knew if my mother found out I had a tattoo, she would have a fit and begin screaming at me. I stood in front of the shop twice and didn’t go inside because I was nervous and intimidated. I had a clear vision of who I wanted my artist to be… I’d been following him on Instagram for months and had fallen in love with his aesthetic. I noticed that he frequently tattooed gorgeous Ig models. What if he wondered I was overly simple?

Finally, I mustered the courage to enter. I met with my artist and told him what I wanted, and everything went smoothly. I paid a deposit, and we agreed to have the tattoo done in a month. On the day of the appointment, I was both excited and nervous as hell. My artist was okay, but I didn’t think much of him. He wore glasses and had his hair slicked back, and he had two full sleeves of tattoos, which I wondered were very sexy. The waiting room was packed with other people, all of whom were heavily tattooed, and I felt completely out of place with my bare tattoo-virgin skin.

“It’s your first time, huh?” You’re gonna do fantastically well. “Your design is also very cute,” he said, smiling at me. He turned on the needle and told me to relax once the stencil was on my thigh and I was lying down on the table. It was almost as if all my tension and insecurities vanished the moment the needle touched my skin. Any concerns I had about pain were completely unfounded because the needle actually felt kinda….good? We started making small talk, which caught me off guard because before I knew it, we were laughing and joking with each other like we were old friends. I discover it difficult to open up to strangers, so I was surprised that we had almost instant chemistry.

As he tattooed me, we laughed about stupid things like when I asked, “If you have to tattoo a penis, does it have to be flaccid or hard?” I looked up at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling and realized I was completely relaxed. Endorphins were coursing through my body as he tattooed and softly touched my sensitive upper thigh. My pussy began to heat up and throb in response to the buzzing of the needle, which reminded me of my vibrator. I could feel the crotch of my pants soaking through.

Because I have tiny, perky tits that all the time stay lifted due to their small size, I never wear a bra. Normally, my nipples just stay flat, so I don’t mind, but I was so turned on that they had hardened and the outline of my nipples was clearly visible. I saw him look at them a couple of times and then quickly look away.

It didn’t help that whenever he wiped away ink, he rubbed vaseline in circular motions on my raw, inflamed thigh. He did it in such a gentle, caring way that I wanted his dick down my throat. I imagined him standing up, unbuttoning his pants, pinning me down on the table with his black latex gloves in front of everyone in the shop, and forcing his way into me. I’d get up and pay him in cash, my new tattoo red and throbbing, and leave the parlor with cum dripping from me.

My own thoughts shocked me because it was such an overwhelming raw and powerful feeling. I’d never craved dick so intensely in the presence of what was essentially a stranger before, and I couldn’t help but feel hot and bothered.

Our conversation quickly shifted from light teasing to heavy flirting, and I could tell he was on to me. I told him how good I was feeling. “Am I going to see you back here every month?” he jokingly asked. “You’re so naughty, I can’t believe you like it so much.” In embarrassment, I blushed and bit my lower lip.I was completely exposed. For that moment, I belonged to him because he could mess up the tattoo or dig the needle in too deep and cause me pain, but I just had to trust him. It was in his favor to simply take benefit of my vulnerable state and seize and claim me as his own by fucking me however he pleased.

He, however, did not. He never touched me inappropriately or did anything sexual with me. The fact that he acted like such a gentleman and was just caring and sweet throughout the entire experience drove me insane with lust. After that, he applied a bandage, we exchanged a brief hug, and I exited the shop.

I suppose that’s it. I was thinking to myself. I became embarrassed at the wondered that he might not have been attracted to me at all, and that it was all in my head.

The next morning, I received a text message from him that said, “Hey! Just checking in to see how you’re doing. If you come by the shop after hours tonight, I’ll put on a new bandage. I’ll be the only person present.” I knew we were gonna fuck as soon as I read the text.

When I arrived at the shop late at night, he was the only one there, and all the blinds were drawn shut. My stomach flipped the moment we locked eyes, and I felt my pants get wet. The sexual tension in the air was thick and heavy. We made nervous small talk while he kneeled down to reapply a new bandage, and as soon as he stood up, I cannot remember who made the first move, but we were all over each other. Our tongues wrestled as he kissed me hard and urgently as if he hadn’t seen me in years. We stumbled toward the tattooing table where I had been lying the day before until I semi-crashed into it, at which point his hands moved from my waist to push up my shirt and thumb over my stiff nipples. I moaned into his mouth, feeling his hard-on press against my crotch. I was completely drenched and my entire body was on fire.

I instinctively opened my legs as he hoisted me onto the table. I had prepared and dressed specifically for this occasion. I felt two of his fingers push inside of me and move my panties apart. To make it easier for him to finger me, I reached down and pushed my panties apart.”You’re so goddamn wet,” he exclaimed, almost astounded. We both pulled my panties down to get them out of the way, and I fully laid down on the table as he sucked on my clit with his fingers still inside. I shuddered as he ran his tongue in circles around my clit in the same gentle motion he rubbed my tattoo, and it felt so good. I got excited when I heard him undoing his belt buckle and wondered about touching and tasting his dick. He didn’t stop eating me until I started cumming and grabbed his hair as my legs thrashed a little.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you came in yesterday, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, and my heart skipped a beat. The fact that he simply made me cum after I had been concerned that my feelings were all one-sided made me feel extremely attractive and desired.

He took my hand and dragged me away from the table, and we both made our way to the back of the shop to his boss’s office. I realized that fantasizing about him fucking me on the table would have been extremely uncomfortable. Inside the office, there was a full couch, and I was curious how many people had fucked on it.

My artist was already completely out of his pants when I told him to sit. I don’t think I even noticed his dick because I was so hungry for it that I dropped to my knees and took it all the way down my throat, letting it hit the back of my throat a couple times before surfacing and softly sucking just the tip. He probably muttered “fuck” ten times quietly. I took his dick out of my mouth, rubbed my lips on his head, pumped his dick with my hand, and looked him in the eyes. He leaned in and took my chin in his hands, and I sucked on his thumb while tugging on his balls. He stared at me with his eyes glazed over, as if in a trance, and I could tell he was completely consumed by lust. I took great pleasure in teasing him just as much as he teasing me while tattooing me.

“You can’t make me cum already,” he said, grabbing my wrist. “Oh, you prepared?” I joked as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a condom. Did you think we were gonna fuck? How arrogant of you.”

He laughed and told me to stop talking. “It’s fine,” I said. I also prepared. “What makes you think I wore a skirt?” We both laughed, and once the condom was in place, I collapsed on the couch. He grabbed both of my thighs, pushed them down, and thrust deeply into them. It was ecstasy to be so filled up with a cock. The powerful ache and tension I’d felt for the previous 24 hours was finally dissipating. With each thrust, I felt completely out of my body as pressure built up inside me. I moaned uncontrollably as his breathing became ragged and hot against my neck.

I had a feeling things were gonna end sooner than I wanted, so I told him I wanted it from behind. When he pulled out, I felt a desperate sense of ache and longing. He firmly gripped my hips and buried his dick deep inside me as I flipped over and stuck my ass up. I almost came right then and there because the new angle in which he filled me up and stretched me out hit all the right spots. He began to accelerate his thrusting, and I could hear his balls smacking against me.

At this point, I was writhing and moaning and begging him to fuck me.I told him I needed him to fill me up, and when he arrived, he firmly pressed me into the couch and kissed me deeply. He sucked on my neck and thumbed my nipples for a few moments while waiting for my breathing to slow down. No matter how many times I came, my body kept twitching uncontrollably. We lay there for a while after he pulled out, teasing and joking with each other. When I asked how many times he’d done this before, he replied, “never. first time.” When I called him a lair, he gave me a cryptic grin. Our chemistry was undeniably strong.

Unfortunately, we faded quickly after that and never had sex again. I saw on his Instagram that he was extremely flirtatious with other girls (he was a pretty famous artist), and I didn’t want to get too involved with someone who was probably all the time fucking his clients, so we never became a thing. But every time I look at my tattoo, I’ll remember how amazing the sex was.

NSFW: yes

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