Shaved by the Tatooist

My friend Julie has many tattoos, and all of them were made in the studio I’ve just entered. Looking at the owner, I now understood why she is a regular here.

Dave is a handsome man in his early thirties. Blonde hair, tall, dark eyes. He is wearing a black tank top which reveals the dragon tattoo on his muscular chest, its tail raising to the shoulder and falling down an arm.

I am instantly attracted by his appearance, but what drives me crazy the most is his deep, masculine voice.

As he speaks, I begin having sexy thoughts about him. In them, my husband comes with me to the studio and pays the man to give me a tattoo and… a little extra white ink in my mouth. I would suck his cock and let him fuck me against the same reception desk where he is standing right now, while Harry incites me to please him.

Harry: my husband. He has been trying to convince me to stray for years, so far without success. I wondered for some times why having a beautiful wife and an active sexual life isn’t enough for him. In the end, I acknowledged his desire but refused to abide by it.

I wasn’t interested in such a lifestyle, at the time.

But something has changed in the past months, in me. Maybe because I turn forty-five this year, and I feel my best days are getting to an end. Or because I feel ugly, and my husband reassurance isn’t enough anymore. I’ve started craving for other men.

So far, though, I’ve been a good wife.

Today Harry has once again given me a little push.

“Maybe the tattooist is a handsome man… maybe you’ll get something more than a tattoo. Feel free to fuck him… but you know the rule.”

Yes, he has teased me before coming here. He has allowed me to stray, once again. And today, I don’t know why, I feel I could play a little with this sexy man.

Just some flirting… nothing more. A kiss or two, a hug, a touch, or a photo with him to send my husband… to make him jealous.

The catalogue is full of nice drawings, but in the end, I decide to get a small pair of open handcuffs: my craving for freedom.

“So, where do you want it?” Dave asks.

“Here,” I say, pointing to my mound.

The truth is that I wanted the tattoo on my shoulder. I got the naughty idea only when I’ve seen this man, and only because of my hubby’s words.

Now’s the moment to get my freedom.

If I have a chance, it lays in teasing this man.

“You’ll have to remove your panties,” he says with the most professional voice tone.

Of course, I have to.

I slide down my skirt and follow with my panties. I can feel the tingles of excitement already spreading around my sex. I can’t deny that exposing my intimate parts to such a man, is making me horny.

I spread my legs, and Dave looks at my pussy. Well, not really. He inspects my mound, but to my utter disappointment his eyes never slide down to look at my sex lips.

“We have to shave it,” he says, caressing my hair. His black rubber gloves feel cold at the touch and give me shivers.

“Ooh, of course… I’m sorry I didn’t think about that,” I hurry to say.

It’s the bare truth. Since it wasn’t planned, I didn’t think about shaving. But it’s also an opportunity to be bold. This man has yet to show any sign of interest for me… and this is making me want him even more.

“Is it included in the service?” I joke.

“If you don’t mind.”

“Cuddles are never enough,” I tease him. “Go ahead.”

For him, this is probably a request like any other, because he fetches his shaving tools and spread foam on my upper mound. The grazing on my hair makes me almost moan. I am getting so excited… and I am sure it will soon be visible between my legs, too.

Julie has told me she has had a similar experience when getting her pussy tattoo. I have always thought it would be impossible to get horny when doing something that painful. Now I am here, ready to be tattooed, horny like a slut.

When he finishes shaving the tattoo location, I laugh looking at my pussy half shaved.

“Anything funny?” he asks.

“No… no… I’m sorry Dave,” I say. “Can you finish the job? It looks too awkward like this and… I feel uncomfortable.”

“More uncomfortable than having a stranger shave you?” he jokes.

I don’t answer. He knows what game I’m playing, I know.

He spreads the cream to my outer lips, then with gentle strokes shaves my hair there, too. His fingers pulling my lips from one side to the other are sending waves of pleasure to my clit. Dave’s concentrated expression makes me want him even more. I will find a way to get him.

My pussy finds the way sooner than expected.

When he finishes his job, and I look at my sex, my lips are swollen and juices are flowing out of them.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I say, closing my thighs. “I… I don’t know what’s happening.”

Someone should give me an Academy Award for my performance just now.

“No worries. Just give it some time.”

He speaks as if getting horny in front of a tattooist is the most natural of things on Earth.

After a good five minutes, though, my pussy is still in the same state — of course, since I’m doing nothing to calm down my excitement.

“I feel so embarrassed… maybe it’s better if I go…”

“I can give you some time by yourself if you want.”

I look at him and smile at his not-so-subtle hint at self-pleasure.

“I want my tattoo… any other solution comes to mind?”

“There’s be one, but I’m not sure it’d be completely professional,” he jokes.

Here it is. The first crack, the sign of his capitulation. His first flirt. I’ll not waste it.

“I’m up for anything that works,” I say, spreading my legs again.

This time, he looks straight at my pussy, with eyes full of lust.

I keep silent, but slide my hands up my inner thighs, pulling my lips apart when I reach my sex.

“I need a professional job,” I tease him.

He grins. The kind of smile you see only once in a lover’s face, the very first time. The passion, the eagerness… now I can see he’s been wanting me, too, and just pretended not to. Then he lowers his face between my spread legs.

And I sit there, on the tattoo chair, and let the man lap my pussy with desire I’ve rarely felt… his tongue feels like electricity hitting my naughtiest spots, the way he sucks my clit makes me twitch and quiver so much I have to hold to the edges of the bed.

A stranger is licking my pussy. I didn’t even know him half-ah-hour ago. I’ve finally capitulated to the lust… I’ve become my hubby’s hotwife. I can’t go back, anymore.

“Dave… your tongue… my God, you’re licking me so well…”

“Mmm… you taste so good,” he says with my clit in his mouth. And he continues to suck, lick, lap, titillate… it’s an ecstasy of sense.

But I feel the need to try him, too.

“Come here already…” I beg him, and as soon as he stands us I reach for his cock and pull down his trunks. I stroke his wonderful dick, enjoying its pulse on my fingers, the wetness pouring out its tip, the foreskin going up and down as I caress it.

I can’t resist more. I lower my head and wrap it with my lips. I suck this stranger’s cock, rolling my tongue around its tip to taste the dirtiest him, inhaling his manly scent which is driving me crazy. My pussy is pulsating with anticipation… I need to be fucked so much.

But I enjoy letting the man use me, too. His hands grabbing my head, aligning my throat to his cock while he pushes it, and his grin when he occasionally pulls his dick out of me to give me a moment to breathe.

I’m on fire. A hand is taking care of my pussy, rubbing and teasing my clit, but it’s not enough anymore.

“Would you… would you fuck my shaven pussy?”

A rhetorical question.

Dave can’t be stopped. He drags me down the tattoo chair and bends me over it. Then, his cock finds its way inside me.

Fuck… my first cock, since the day I got married. The first man other than my husband inside me. And I’m wet like a bitch in heat.

Dave thrusts his cock in and out of me, slapping his groin against my butt. I can’t restrain my moans… it feels too nice.

“You wanted to be fucked so much, uh, bitch?” He says, slapping my butt.

After how I teased him, I deserve this. I don’t complain. He didn’t seem so dominant a moment ago… and now he’s a beast, caring only to punish my pussy. His cock seems made for my cunt… or it’s just so thick compared to my hubby’s, that it’s rubbing my insides in ways I never tried.

I pant on the bed, accepting the pleasure and pain from his hard thrusts.

“More… fuck me more… fuck my needy pussy, Dave…”

I want him to destroy me. I want to feel owned, possessed. I want to get back home and tell my husband a stranger has ripped my pussy, and to force him to lick it. I… I feel so horny… such dirty thoughts are filling my head while this man pounds me against the bed.

“Cum… cum on my cock… I’m going to fucking fill your womb…”

I realize I’m trembling in the grasps of an inevitable orgasm. Yes, I want this man to breed me. I want to feel his sperm pouring out my pussy while I drive home, I want to show my husband I am the naughty wife he has always wanted.

My eyes closed, my face rubbing the bed under the thrusts coming from behind, I explode. I scream. Or I moan. Or both… my voice feels so distant. It’s halfway between awe for the unexpected pleasure, and a lament for having negated this to myself for too long.

As the waves of my climax fade away, I can only think about one thing: I want this again. Soon.

Ding, Dong.

The doorbell rings.

“Fuck… I forgot… I have another customer, now,” Dave says, pulling up his trunks.

He runs to the other room, giving me the time to dress. His sperm in my pussy makes me feel proud. I’ve pleased him.

But In the end, I didn’t get my tattoo.

I’ll come back next week for that.

I’m sure I’ll find the perfect way to pay him.

If you liked this tale, you can read my other naughty shorts on my Vocal page, or find my longer, professionally edited books on Amazon 📚