thelesbianlifestyle.com

This is a bit longer than an average post, but I hope you’ll take the time to indulge me. For several years I was the ghostwriter behind a blog entitled Nameless Erotica. From 2004-2008 I published erotic short stories, micro fiction, and the occasional self reflection there. It was a wonderful home for me. I was filled with anonymous confidence and found it a much needed outlet for the things rattling around in my mind. I’d like to share one of my favorite stories from that blog entitled Blink.

Blink

The ear piercing buzz of a dentist drill scares the shit out of me. The intermittent hum of a tattoo gun held in the right hands is a whole other story. I was close to getting my first tattoo when I was eighteen. First loves burn strong and I’m glad that my lack of courage then saved me from remembering the breakup forever. At twenty-six it wasn’t that I was afraid of the thought of ink being shot into my skin at thousands of revolutions per second, my dilemma was to make sure I got the right one. I didn’t want to be one of those girls that picked a design off of a wall. Nor was I a tribal, butterfly, or Asian symbol type of girl. The design had to be original, and it had to reflect upon the person I wanted to become.

It took me a year to design my first tattoo. Once the design was complete, I knew that the real challenge would be finding the right person to sink it into my flesh by way of needle. Friends told me that a good tattoo was all about the artist. Looking at some of the art they had adorning their skin I surmised that they were correct in making such an assumption. I called several parlors within a fifty-mile radius of my loft. Based upon the phone etiquette of the person who answered I narrowed the list down. I wasn’t looking for some careless bad ass on a mission who could draw a skull and bones with the best of them. I wanted to find someone who truly cared about their work and thought of it as a respective creative form of art.

On my day off I hopped into my car with a pack of smokes, my wallet, and enough music to get me through the ride. Today was the day. I would either get it done or find the person that would do it for me in the near future. Tattoo shops are all very similar. I learned this while attempting to remember which artist did what after only visiting three places. It was when I entered the fourth shop that all of my preconceived notions changed. It was called Blink. It sounded more like an eye doctors, or a place to buy a tacky awful light fixture than a tattoo parlor. The facade of the building was plain. There were no windows, only hundreds of gray cinder blocks covered by the occasional plastic bag that had blown in from the street. It was the sign on the door that drew me in. It looked hand painted, and I loved the design that hid behind the lettering of the name of the store.

When I walked through the door the first thing that struck me was the smell in the air. The entire space tasted like a sweet fruit on my tongue. After looking around a bit I questioned whether it was even a tattoo shop at all. Inside it looked more like a place where you could get your palm read. Colorful silk scarves hung from the walls. There were photos all over that contained people in shades of colors from all over the world. Like so many of the places I had been in before there were no books or poster frames full of over used tattoo art hanging on the walls. There weren’t rows of medical chairs or walls that contained small hidden makeshift cubicles. I took a step further into the building and triggered a bell that echoed off the many worldly ornaments. Behind a rainbow-beaded doorway I saw a tall figure approaching the opening.

“Hi there,” she spoke in a tone that slid through my entire body, “my name’s Khalidah, friends call me Kha.”

As soon as Kha shook my hand I knew she was the one. Her long fingers held onto my hand a little bit longer than a normal handshake was supposed to last. The gesture signified both comfort and warmth to a heart that had been without both for a long time. The moment I met her I could tell instantly that she was more than comfortable in her own skin. This was the woman that I wanted to scar me for life. She welcomed me further into her store. Telling me that she lived in the back half of the building and ran her business from the room we were standing in now.

“Please, take a seat.” She pointed to what looked like a breakfast nook at the far corner of the room.

“I’m Julie, and it’s beautiful in here.” Those were the only words able to leave my lips.

Sitting down I had a chance to study more of what surrounded me. There really wasn’t one word that could justify the worldliness of the room. It was filled with trinkets, art, and memories that spanned the globe. There were no windows to bring in any outside light. Instead of filling the room with fluorescent lights Kha had what seemed to be a collection of hundreds of different lamps spread throughout the shop. Some hung from the ceiling covered in crystals. Others sat atop tables in a variety of colors. The bulbs in each where very soft and all of the light put together gave off a natural glow not unlike the sun rising in the morning.

“So how can I help you today Julie?” Her voice was soft and confidant all at the same time.

“I’ve finally decided on a design for my first tattoo. I was hoping we could look it over and go from there.”

“Your first is the most important you know. Too many people regret their first tattoos and it should never be that way.”

“I’ve thought about it for a while now actually.” I said with confidence.

I pulled the piece of paper that contained my design out of my pocket and unfolded it onto the table. Instead of picking it up she continued to make eye contact with me. It was then that I noticed her piercings. Her nose, left eyebrow, and lower lip all had the most beautiful jewelry in them. The darkness of what I assumed was her Middle Eastern skin made the silver in the jewelry hypnotic against her flesh. She had straight black hair that fell to the middle of her back. The color of her eyes captured me. They were as dark brown as you could get without calling them black. Her eyebrows were arched like the photos I had always seen of Cleopatra. Her face was a tear drop shape. High cheek bones that lead into a strong jaw line. She embodied femininity as if it were her own creation. She was dressed in a black skirt that flowed over her legs all the way down to her ankles. Her white blouse cut down low enough to make imagining her naked an easy task. Kha’s appearance was very much sexy gypsy meets Egyptian queen and I was instantly falling in love with her for it.

Once she took from my eyes what she wanted she turned the piece of paper over to study the design. “This is very interesting. Did you design it yourself?”

“Yeah, I’ve been working on the details for about a year now.” Kha put her hand on top of mine and once again looked into my eyes as if she was searching for something.

“The meaning behind this design is strong you know. Are you sure that you’re ready?”

“I’ve been ready for a while now. When do you think you can get me in?” There was no one but us in the store, but I asked out of politeness.

“I can do it right now if you’d like. I’m usually closed today but I decided to open to see who would wander in.”

“You were the fourth place I’ve been to. I didn’t even know this place was here. I saw it on accident on the way to another shop across town. I would’ve never guessed a tattoo shop would be named Blink.”

She smiled an old smile. Reassuring me that it was not the first time she had heard that statement. “Blink stands for blood and ink. Fitting, no?”

I returned her smile and felt foolish for making such a statement. Of course it stood for blood and ink. “Please sit here and I’ll fix you some tea. Then I’ll do a work up of the design and place it where you would like.”

Once I finished my tea Kha asked me to follow her to the other side of the room. There she had made an ink copy of my design and asked me where I would like it applied.

“I want it on the middle of my chest just above my breasts.”

“That’s the perfect place. I’ll go lock the front door and I’’ll need you to remove your top.” As she walked away I found it near impossible to stop looking at her.

I had only been in her presence for thirty minutes but I already felt like I had known her for a lifetime. The thought of being topless in front of her didn’t bother me at all. On the contrary the thought of her being even remotely close to my breasts heightened the excitement of the entire event. Kha headed toward the front door while I removed my top and sat in the chair. Once she returned she applied the inked copy to my chest. The design covered my breast bone and went down about an inch on the insides of my breasts. She held up a mirror for me to approve of the placement.

“How does that look?”

Even though it was only the light blue tracing ink, I was delighted with finally seeing the art that I had worked on for so long applied to my skin.

“It’s perfect.” I said through a shameless smile.

“Yes, it is perfect.” She said. “This artwork suits you well Julie. Most of the original art that people bring in I end up having to manipulate or add to. There isn’t an inch of this that I would dare touch.” I blushed knowing that she was sincere and thanked her for her kind words.

I sat quietly as she prepared her tools. There was more than enough visual stimulation on the ceiling to look at as she lowered the back of the chair.

“You do know that this is one of the most sensitive places on your body to get a tattoo right? Your skin is very close to your bone here.” She pressed her fingers over the outline of my art..

I hadn’t known that, but by this time my adrenalin was kicking in and I didn’t care. She swabbed my chest in slow strokes with a cotton ball filled with antiseptic. The chill from the liquid sent goose bumps up my arms and into my spine.

“You have beautiful skin,” she said, “it’s very pure.”

I nodded in thank you as I noticed out of the corner of my eye that she was lifting up her skirt. To reach my chest she had to part her legs and move in as close to the chair as possible. I did my best to avoid allowing my line of vision to linger on her naked legs.

“Okay,” she said, “lets bring a masterpiece to life shall we.” Kha clicked on the tattoo gun and the soothing sound of the medieval looking machine began.

The anticipation of the first time the needle would shoot through my skin had my hands clenching the arms of the chair tightly. She must have noticed me tense up.

“Honey, all you have to do is relax and remember to breathe. Once your endorphins kick in you won’t feel a thing I promise.”

I’m not sure if it was the calming nature of her voice or something in the cup of tea she had given me, but as soon as she spoke I was able to let go of all my fears entirely. I am not ashamed to admit that I adore pain. There was something about the continued throb of creating the tattoo that was intensely sexually stimulating. The initial pain lasted only a moment and then turned itself into a very long and light orgasm that seemed to flow throughout my entire body. During the first half of the process Kha told me of her many travels. How she was orphaned as a young girl in a small town in Iran and moved to the United States when she turned eighteen. Once she arrived here she attended college and obtained a degree in Sociology. After she graduated she had saved enough money to travel the world. She said that growing up she was used to having nothing. She used that to her advantage when she came to the United States and was able to establish quite a large savings because of it. She told me stories of all the people she had met and how she came to own Blink. People from all of her travels would make special trips to visit her to have her do their tattoos. She spoke of her clientele and how owning her own business allowed her to pick her own hours and still have time to continue her travels.

Because of the location of my tattoo Kha had to rest her arm on me at times. Her elbow brushed against my nipple and it hardened instantly. The first time it happened she apologized. I was in such a euphoric state that I told her I welcomed the physical contact.

“We’re half way there.” She held up a mirror and let me see the ink mixing with my blood. Her work was impeccable. The lines were clear and defined. The curves were smooth and not too thick. “Do you like it?” She asked.

“It’s absolutely beautiful Kha.”

She returned the mirror to its place and leaned further onto my body. I assumed she was getting closer to work on some of the finer lines. I was more than surprised when I felt her lips cover my nipple. I took in a quick breath and fell head first into ecstasy when I felt her tongue swirling around my most sensitive area.

“You taste like you look,” she whispered, “milky and sweet.”

I closed my eyes and let out a deep sigh. She returned to her suckling after her whisper and I dropped my right arm down to allow her to get even closer. It unintentionally brushed up against her inner thigh. She moaned while she continued to nibble on me, and it sent a vibration down the entire length of my leg. Once she had her fill I heard the tattoo gun snap on, but kept my eyes closed. I was afraid that if I opened them I would wake up from the most amazing dream I had ever had.

After that unexpected interlude it felt as though she was making love to me with each line of ink she buried into my skin. She shifted her position on her seat so that my arm had no way to get away from her warm thigh. The next time she refilled her ink I brought my hand up underneath her skirt and rested my open palm on top of her thigh. Just before she entered my body with her needle I dropped my hand and dug my nails into the inside of her leg.

At the end of her breath she spoke. “It seems to be turning out well. Would you like to see it one more time before I finish?”

The thought of this moment ending was something I refused to consider. I was at the mercy of a woman that had the power to make this experience even more magical that I could have ever imagined. I decided not to respond in words and reached my hand to the back of her dark hair bringing her lips to mine.

Our kisses became exchanges of life. Where one ended another quickly began. She stood up from her chair and climbed on top of me. Her broad slender frame shadowed my petite figure. The pressure of her mid section straddling mine was more intense than I had anticipated. Her skirt had hiked itself up to her waist exposing her bare legs. She parted herself from my lips long enough to remove her top. Her breasts hung heavy and taunt upon her chest. There was a hunger in her eyes that lead me to believe that I would be devoured. If ever I were to be eaten alive by an animal, Kha would be the one I would choose. She leaned down on top of me and the mixture of pleasure and pain was easy to succumb to. She found her way to my neck and took tiny bites of the sensitive skin there. When she decided it was time to truly hurt me I turned my head to the left to allow her full access to any part of me she desired. The combination of her teeth tearing through my flesh and her tongue massaging the skin that ended up in between her bite was almost too much to handle. When I felt her hand breech the top of my pants I found her lips again and fucked her mouth with my tongue.

She grazed the top of my pussy. She let her fingers explore just enough to confirm my wetness with her soft touch. Within the instant that I thought she would enter me she removed her hand quickly and I looked up at her in despair.

“Lift up.” She demanded.

She had an urgency in her voice that only sex and fear can create. She lowered herself down my legs and I followed by lifting up my hips. She managed to pull my pants down to my knees with one swift jerk. When she returned her body to mine our skin met in a lust filled union. She would pull herself up just enough to bring one of her nipples to my mouth. They were rough with the excitement of sex and I bit down hard until I thought she couldn’t take it anymore. When she began to move her pussy up and down against mine I grabbed onto the arms of the chair attempting to hold onto the moment. The shop, the tattoo, this amazing Goddess that I just met seducing my cunt with her own. It was all too much. Every single one of my senses were ramped up to high. She pushed her pelvic bone harder into me as our lips found different ways to kiss. I could feel her cum mixing with mine. Our tastes and smells were meshing into one.
“There’s only one spot left. I’m going to finish it.” She leaned in to get the gun and I managed to grab her nipple between my lips.

While moving up and down on my cunt Kha began to finishing my design. I tried my best to match her steady hands. Knowing that if I moved out of rhythm now it would ruin everything. What she was doing to the lower half of my body made me want to scream. What she was doing to my mind was like nothing I had ever experienced.

“I’m almost there honey, one more second I promise you.” Her words were soft now, but full of determination.

I felt one last stab of pain and proceeded to have the most exquisite orgasm of my life. She threw down the tattoo gun and followed with her own. Her moans were long and her breathing was light. I watched as her body arched up and she dug her nails into the sides of my stomach. She collapsed hard on top of me and we laid there together as I bled from my tattoo onto her breasts. It was the perfect tattoo within the perfect moment and Kah was the perfect woman to remind me that sex is best mixed with a beautiful stranger and just the right amount of voluntary pain.