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Posted by: Author: Age: 20 Posted on: 0 comments
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I've always liked the tasteful, delicate ones, not the huge splotches of black ink known as tramp stamps....so after much chickening out...


I found a young female piercer with what I needed...a really good reputation. Word of mouth is the best advert you can have.

I decided on the pattern I wanted and she emailed me about 30 different designs she had made. I wanted a cross between three of them and the final one was perfect!

On the dreaded day itself, I made sure I wore my low slung jeans and a top I could hitch up to let her at my lower back. I wanted it quite low down so I would get to choose who sees it.

When I told her this she said that there were a lot of nerves at that level and maybe a little higher would be better, but I stuck to my guns. She wanted me to tug my jeans down even further until they were half way over my ass and I felt her cleaning the skin. DAMN, but I was scared!

Then she said...'OK...dry run. If this is too much we will stop.' I heard the buzz of the little gun thing and then a sting like being scratched with a thorn on my spine. It hurt more than I thought it would! But hey...

So I said to go for it. About half way through the pain suddenly seemed to change, it 'sweetened'...silly word, but those of you with tattoos will know what I mean I think. It also spread and at one point she touched me with the needle, and I peed a little. I was mortified! There was no doubt, the part she was working on was connected somehow directly to my crotch. Another touch and another tiny escape.

I told her to stop a minute. She smiled at me. 'You peed huh?' (BRIGHT red face!!) 'Uh, yeah, a tiny bit...sorry.' She said that because she was working so low down, the nerves coming from my spinal cord sometimes reacted like that. Then she said to take my jeans and panties off and lie back down.

She said she would be at least another hour with the design and took my visibly wet panties to her sink, rinsed them out and put them on the radiator to dry.

So, buck naked from the waist down, I lay there and she said 'If you pee again now, it's cool, it will go on the paper towels. No big deal.' And she went back to work. I felt that sting and the peeing sensation again and this time I didn't fight too hard. Then it changed again and although I was still letting out a little from time to time, I realised that I was a hair's breadth from an orgasm!

And she knew that too. As soon as she finished she said 'Back in about ten minues, just, well, just do what you need to do.'

I lay face down, looking at my own panties on a radiator, slipped a hand under myself and between my legs and let myself have a really enjoyable cum.

When she came back I stood up. She eyed her work, and then me and said 'I should have stayed!'

I tugged my panties and jeans back on paid and walked home.

When I got there I wondered how many other girls got turned on during their tattoo. I also wondered what it is like with a girl and whether I would have let her touch me in that way if she had tried to.

You know, I rather think I might have.

Of course, all this led to another, far more relaxed but prolonged jilling session.



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