The Tattoo Artist – Short Sex Story

I was sitting in a kind of cozy living room, many pictures of drawings or trendy people getting inked were posted on the wall, and the place smelt really nice. It was a lot better than other joints I visited in the past month. Some internet sensation was tattooed here, which in any case, the place got a boost of popularity. I saw a biker and his old lady, both covered in ink. I didn’t really want to see or know which part they were getting done today, I had my own worries. I was scared shitless, but I had to do it despite my fears of needles.

I had an appointment with a girl named Mindy, it sounded more like a stripper’s name than a tattoo artist name, but what do I know, it was my first friggin time. I kept giving quick glances towards the clock, and as I was about to bail, she called my name. I swiped my sweaty palms on my baggy shorts and looked towards the soft, almost childish voice.

God! That girl was the hottest girl I ever saw in my life. Well, to be honest, it wasn’t a big accomplishment. It was my first time in a big city, and I am sort of shy. I was no virgin mind you, but some could say I was socially awkward. I’m six foot three and I weight two hundred and fifty pounds. Gym pounds, not fast food pounds. I am no douchebag either, I mostly keep to myself, I fantasize about myself being a bully for the bullies, I mean when I am around douches don’t give a hard time to the geek squad, and yeah I am part of it.

NSFW: yes

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