“Bro, quickly,” I say,
signaling for Adam to follow me into the office.
“Told you, didn’t I?” He’s
still as excited as before.
“Yes, you did. I have to
pierce her nipples. How the hell am I supposed to do that?” I say, in a raised
whisper.
He frowns, confusion marring
his expression. “What?”
“How can I touch her there?”
All I can think about is that my hands are already shaking.
“Pull your shit together,
dude, she’s just a chick. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”
“Not with her.” That face
and those sensual curves, seriously, if she’s got me like this already, how do
I handle seeing her bare flesh in this type of situation? “You do them for me.
I’ll do the tat after.”
“No, I’ve got my own client
to do.”
“Not for forty-five minutes,
you’ll be done by then.”
“No. Trust me, bro,” he
says, placing his hand on my shoulder and pointing at me with the forefinger of
his other, “you’ll thank me for this one day, so suck it up and get in there
already.”
“Are you really not going to
help me out?”
“I am.
Go do it
.”
“Fuck!” I exclaim, as I walk
back out of the office.
Of all the times for Diane,
our female body piercer, to be on vacation.
“Callie, I think he likes you, he couldn’t take his
eyes off you. I think you make him nervous.”
“I
do not
need to
hear that, Su. What would he be nervous about? I’m the one who’s about to have
a needle shoved through
both
my nipples.”
She smirks, humored. “Cuz
he’s obviously attracted to you, he thinks you’re cute. And you were right, he
is
hooot
!” she finishes in operatic song, rubbing her hands together
with delight.
I giggle at her. Right on
the verge of my reply, he enters the room. He smiles at me and walks over to a
cabinet on the wall behind me. I twist my upper body around and watch him pull
out some white latex gloves. Oh, shit. For some reason, it only just hits me.
He is going to see me
topless.
Abruptly, I turn to the front
and stare at Su, wide-eyed. Nick is the only man who has ever seen my tits.
Ryan felt them, but he never saw them, so that doesn’t count. And he was my
boyfriend at the time. Maybe the nerves of getting the piercings done stopped
the recognition of this factor when I first learned
this
guy was doing
them, but right now, with it so close to happening, that realization has my gut
twisting.
I point to my breasts and
mouth the words I just thought to Su. She winks at me and sort of grins to ease
me, but it’s impossible for me to smile back. I need to distract myself. “I
don’t know your name. You told me your brother’s, but not yours,” I say,
looking, but not looking at the display of photos along the white wall in front
of me. I can’t recall what I was told when I booked, my brain won’t work right.
The silence in here feels thick, and that’s not helping matters.
“My name is Joe,” he says,
as he sits down on a chair to the right of me.
Joe. Now I remember. I
always wondered what his name was after our
almost
collision
.
Joe. I like it.
He wheels himself closer,
stopping in front of me. The height of the table puts me above him, so I have
to lower my gaze if I want to make eye contact with him. That’s the last thing
I want to do. This really wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t hot. Why couldn’t I
get the older guy who booked me in?
Or Adam?
He’s
cute, too, but I could deal with him.
“Okay. So you want a tattoo
as well,” he states, sitting upright with his lightly-fisted hands resting on
his thighs, the gloves clutched within his right hand. I wish I could be as
relaxed as he is.
I nod, looking level with
his perfectly sculpted cheekbones.
“Yeah.”
“Do you have in mind what
you want, or would you like to see some designs?” I don’t know how, but he’s
able to stare me straight in the eyes. Su was right about him being nervous
before, but he’s definitely, absolutely not now. Maybe he was a little
embarrassed about the
almost collision
thing.
With effort, I return his
gaze as best as I can. Oh, God
.
My heart starts to gallop, threatening
to burst out of my chest.
Those rich coffee beans have
been imprinted on my memory since I first saw them. Sitting this near to
reality is almost debilitating. There’s a deep tenderness in his stare that
warms me, but the intensity of his focus pushes it up to a searing heat. It’s
overwhelming, it makes me want to look away, but … I can’t. The brown is so
rich with no intrusion of other tones and that only enhances the impact.
I thought my memory of his
face was an exaggeration, the exceptional features and planes combining
masculinity and beauty, but it’s true and very real. The tone of his skin is
closer to olive than fair and appears incredibly smooth. I have an urge to
slowly run the tips of my fingers along the lines and contours of his features,
medium-thick eyebrows; narrow nose; high, defined cheekbones; softly-chiseled
jaw, and then make a sculpture of his head, made to the exact likeness, but I
wouldn’t go there, even with my skill, which, bias or not, I credit to be at a
high standard. Thinking of this man as hot
is easy to conclude, but it’s
understated.
Joe is a powerful
combination of man, beauty and sex.
“I love your tattoos,” I
say, the words flying out before I can stop them. It’s not the answer to his
question, whatever that was, but his navy sleeveless T-shirt displays the art
on his muscular arms. I don’t linger too long on his left, which has a
half-sleeve tribal tat. It’s the right one that’s gripped my attention.
Intricately designed female angels, all in black with shading, cover his skin
from shoulder to wrist.
“Thank you,” he says. The
sweet smile he offers takes shape with slender, soft looking lips. They
probably feel better than the most luxurious silk in existence.
“Are they your only ones?”
“No, I also have one on my
back.”
“Do you think we could see
it?” I ask, before my mouth and brain connect. I glance in Su’s direction,
sitting to his right. She’s still enthralled by the angels.
“Sure. How ‘bout we get you
done first.”
“Okay.” And right now that
awful twisting of my gut returns.
“So do you know what tattoo
you want?”
“I’d like to have ‘Love’
written on the side of my right foot,” I point to the spot, exposed by my
flip-flops, “in a rose vine. I’ve seen a few designs that I like, but I’m open
to suggestions, if you have any.”
“Sure, that’ll be easy
enough.”
We discuss my piercings, and
the thoughts of pain – again – temporarily distract me from the knowledge that
this beautiful man is going to see my tits. Right up until now; when he stands
up. I feel sick.
Joe moves the tray with all
his equipment closer to the table and pulls on his gloves.
I close my eyes,
breathe in a deep-dose of sterile air, and just go for it, stripping from the
waist up; T-shirt, bra. Shit.
Thankfully, the room is
warm.
I’m trying to approach the situation as I have with
all the other nipple piercings I’ve done. Who am I kidding? This is in no way
the same. I’ve carried out this procedure on countless women, but providing
such a service for this funky little angel doesn’t compare. I don’t know what
it is, but there’s something about her. Part of me wondered after our first
encounter whether I imagined her, she seemed too good to be true.
She isn’t beautiful in a
blatant, super model type way, many women like that have come to our studio
before. I’ve done a lot more than pierce those types of ladies, too. Callie is
striking and unique, with big, mesmerizing eyes the color of toffee. She’s got
the sweetest nose and full, alluring lips, all captured in a heart shape face.
The cotton candy colored hair adds edginess, but doesn’t take away her
gentle-femininity. And, fuck me, damn her tits are edible. They’re neither
large nor small, they’re perky and a perfect fit for her small frame. A perfect
fit for my hands.
Could she be any more ideal
to me?
With my professional head on
and blocking out any type of thoughts that are likely to have my cock
responding to the female in front of me, I position the forceps over her right
nipple. I put the needle in place, ready to penetrate – bad choice of words.
“Wait. Shit,” Callie says, slapping her hands over her eyes and holding them
there. “I will do this. I will.”
“It’s okay, we’ll take our
time.” I ease the instrument away, giving her space. I need space, too, I feel
like an adolescent fucking boy who’s never seen real-life breasts before.
“If it’s really bad, I’m
stopping at one. One will be fine. Why the hell do I want both done, anyway?”
I’d laugh at her indecisive reaction if she wasn’t so nervous; she’s way too
cute.
“Every woman I’ve done this
for so far said it wasn’t as bad as they thought it would be.”
“I heard that, too. I’m sure
it’ll be okay, it’s just the build-up, you know.”
“You can do it,” Su adds. I
smile at her friend as she reaches out and holds Callie’s wrist, stroking the
back of it with her thumb.
Callie lowers her hands and
looks at Su.
Now she looks at me –
straight in the eyes.
Something hits me. I don’t
know what, but something. It’s the second time she’s done this to me since I
sat down in front of her.
“Right.
Let’s do this,” she says, with a new found
determination.
As I push the needle
through, Callie’s eyelids close and she bites down on her bottom lip. Once it’s
in, she breathes on a curse. She blinks a couple of times and a tiny pearl of a
tear rolls down her left cheek. I want to wipe it away with my thumb. Not
appropriate, though.
When the barbell’s in and secure, she fans her face
with her hands as though she’s trying to dry away the droplet, now trickling
off her jaw, or stop more tears from coming. She takes a deep breath. “Damn,
that hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Let’s get the other
one over with.”
Once both are complete,
she’s evidently pleased, excited and proud. She’s adorable – I just want to
hold her. Such a strange, but prominent urge for a girl I don’t even know.
For me, those piercings were
the hardest, yet most enjoyable ones I’ve done. It was impossible not to
register the soft appearance of her breasts (I wish I hadn’t needed to wear
gloves), her mouth watering, pale rose-pink nipples, the faint tan lines –
evidence of a recent-ish vacation; San Francisco doesn’t offer that type of
weather, and the mild peach smell from her skin. Not a perfume, but a body wash
or something, maybe a lotion. Whatever it is, it somehow seems appropriate for
her.
“Tattoo time,” she says,
once she’s fully dressed.
“You’re okay to do that
now?” I ask, pulling off my gloves.
“Yes, please, I’d rather get
it all over with in one day.”
On my chair, I move over to
the drawing board and sketch a design I think will look perfect on her foot;
‘Love’ written in a rose vine, with an open rose at the ‘L,’ and several small
buds entwined throughout the ‘ove.’ I’ve done similar ones for clients before,
but I play around with Callie’s until it is unique and just right for her.
I’m glad to be fully dressed again, I can relax now.
Few things make me nervous or embarrass me. I didn’t feel either emotion when I
lost my virginity to Nick. This experience has been my strangest yet.
While Joe is sketching my
tattoo, Su and I are having a secret lip reading conversation. It’s a good
distraction from the sting presenting in my nipples. Various words are flying
back and forth between us. From Su, I can easily pick up her opera sung, almost
appropriate, “
Hooot
!” We laugh silently. She’s now decided “Super
hooot
”
is better.
I don’t know what she’s
getting from me, but I’m saying, “Look at his back.” Gazing over at him, again,
I’m taking in the way Joe’s broad, lean shoulders fan out as he sits drawing,
his narrow waist, and the defined dip of his spine. That man is in shape, he’s
ridiculously, deliciously hot, yes, super freakin’
hooot
!
Su and I stop our soundless
giggle the second we hear Joe’s chair move. He stands up, walks over to me, and
perches beside me on the padded table. I didn’t notice his scent before, he
smells of freshly laundered clothes and soap. His own unique smell is also
evident. He holds up the design, for me to see, and we discuss it. I love it
already.
“Is pink your favorite
color?” he asks.
“It is at the moment, but I
can be a bit impulsive sometimes. I hadn’t even planned on this hair until I
came across the bottle in the store four months ago.” Within days I was at the
hair salon. He responds with a deep, delightful chuckle. “Why?” I ask.