close my eyes and slowly turn around.
I know the moment that the art comes into view. His breathing speeds up, deep and breathy, then comes a "Sweet Jesus!" At this point I am all smiles, feeling a surge of appreciation for my girl X. She is the best tattoo artist and body piercer on the planet. She and I have spent a lot of time together. Every ounce of work on my body is hers and hers alone.
I feel his fingers graze my back, tracing the outside of the piece, sending goose bumps all over my body. My nipples harden and strain against the barbells. They’re so hard and tight I feel like I'm going to snap the platinum rods. A moan escapes my lips. Then both his hands are on me, caressing, kneading their way up my back. He grabs my t-shirt and slowly starts to lift it up.
My nerve endings are on fire, aching for his touch.
"Let go baby-girl," he says. I do as he asks, and he starts to pull my t-shirt up. "Arms up. I'm taking this off." I smile and comply, lifting my arms over my head. He stands up, bringing my shirt with him. "My God, you are beautif—" His breath catches. No doubt the rest of my back has finally registered in his mind. "—ful. Absolutely beautiful."
He releases my t-shirt and it falls to the floor. His hands come up to my shoulders, where my quarter sleeves start, then slowly he moves them across my back, lightly tracing the fairy wings that come together between my shoulder blades. He continues over to my arms and down my sides. His breathing is rough, ragged, and his voice comes to me husky and breathy. "Jesus, Cami, you're so beautiful."
His hands starts to move around to my front, tickling my belly. I long to feel them on my breasts, toying with the barbells through my nipples. "Turn around for me, please, Cami?"
I smile. I’ve known all along that one day X's genius was really going to pay off, and this moment is it. I've never had anyone react to my body art the way that Tristan is, and suddenly all of the pain of getting pierced, the healing process after getting new ink, and all the time spent in X's chair and shop is paying off in this one reaction.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sweet Jesus, I've died and gone to heaven. The artwork is fantastic, and all the tattoos are linked in some fashion, either by color or overall design. Like me, she’s spent a lot of time shopping for an artist that wasn't just chosen at random. The ink work is intricate and beyond anything I thought was even possible in tattoo form. And they completely complement her body shape and skin tone. Cami wears her tattoos, not the other way around.
And now as she turns around, she has a model-style stance: back arched slightly, pushing her breasts out just a hair further. They are perfectly round, pert, perky. I stop breathing. Her nipples are a warm pink, accented by the platinum barbells barely visible on either side of her fully erect nipples. The barbells are accented with bright green and purple balls. My cock is throbbing and I can feel drops of pre-cum forming and sliding down my shaft.
Pulling in a deep, ragged breath and licking my lips, I can't stop my hands from trailing up her soft skin from the waistband of her shorts to her luscious pink areolas. She is breathing deep and heavy. Her nipples are so hard and swollen now that her barbells are reduced to the balls on either side. She arches her back, pushing her breasts into my hands. My thumbs graze over her nipples and she moans.
"You're so delicate and beautiful, like a little lily. Begging to open like a flower."
Her breathing spikes. I can feel her heart pounding against my hands, begging me to continue. My hands continue the path they were making. Slowly, up to her shoulders, her neck, her cheeks, cupping her face. I pull her head up slightly and bring her lips to mine. She kisses me back, urgent and excited. I can hardly breathe. This girl is literally taking my breath away.
Then I feel her hands on my hips. Searching
I know the moment that the art comes into view. His breathing speeds up, deep and breathy, then comes a "Sweet Jesus!" At this point I am all smiles, feeling a surge of appreciation for my girl X. She is the best tattoo artist and body piercer on the planet. She and I have spent a lot of time together. Every ounce of work on my body is hers and hers alone.
I feel his fingers graze my back, tracing the outside of the piece, sending goose bumps all over my body. My nipples harden and strain against the barbells. They’re so hard and tight I feel like I'm going to snap the platinum rods. A moan escapes my lips. Then both his hands are on me, caressing, kneading their way up my back. He grabs my t-shirt and slowly starts to lift it up.
My nerve endings are on fire, aching for his touch.
"Let go baby-girl," he says. I do as he asks, and he starts to pull my t-shirt up. "Arms up. I'm taking this off." I smile and comply, lifting my arms over my head. He stands up, bringing my shirt with him. "My God, you are beautif—" His breath catches. No doubt the rest of my back has finally registered in his mind. "—ful. Absolutely beautiful."
He releases my t-shirt and it falls to the floor. His hands come up to my shoulders, where my quarter sleeves start, then slowly he moves them across my back, lightly tracing the fairy wings that come together between my shoulder blades. He continues over to my arms and down my sides. His breathing is rough, ragged, and his voice comes to me husky and breathy. "Jesus, Cami, you're so beautiful."
His hands starts to move around to my front, tickling my belly. I long to feel them on my breasts, toying with the barbells through my nipples. "Turn around for me, please, Cami?"
I smile. I’ve known all along that one day X's genius was really going to pay off, and this moment is it. I've never had anyone react to my body art the way that Tristan is, and suddenly all of the pain of getting pierced, the healing process after getting new ink, and all the time spent in X's chair and shop is paying off in this one reaction.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sweet Jesus, I've died and gone to heaven. The artwork is fantastic, and all the tattoos are linked in some fashion, either by color or overall design. Like me, she’s spent a lot of time shopping for an artist that wasn't just chosen at random. The ink work is intricate and beyond anything I thought was even possible in tattoo form. And they completely complement her body shape and skin tone. Cami wears her tattoos, not the other way around.
And now as she turns around, she has a model-style stance: back arched slightly, pushing her breasts out just a hair further. They are perfectly round, pert, perky. I stop breathing. Her nipples are a warm pink, accented by the platinum barbells barely visible on either side of her fully erect nipples. The barbells are accented with bright green and purple balls. My cock is throbbing and I can feel drops of pre-cum forming and sliding down my shaft.
Pulling in a deep, ragged breath and licking my lips, I can't stop my hands from trailing up her soft skin from the waistband of her shorts to her luscious pink areolas. She is breathing deep and heavy. Her nipples are so hard and swollen now that her barbells are reduced to the balls on either side. She arches her back, pushing her breasts into my hands. My thumbs graze over her nipples and she moans.
"You're so delicate and beautiful, like a little lily. Begging to open like a flower."
Her breathing spikes. I can feel her heart pounding against my hands, begging me to continue. My hands continue the path they were making. Slowly, up to her shoulders, her neck, her cheeks, cupping her face. I pull her head up slightly and bring her lips to mine. She kisses me back, urgent and excited. I can hardly breathe. This girl is literally taking my breath away.
Then I feel her hands on my hips. Searching
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