Friday, October 14, 2005

The tattoo.

It must have been about 6 or 7 years ago, I suppose. I know that I was having a personal struggle of some kind, trying to relate the person I thought I was with the guy who left the house every morning in a dark suit, to go sit behind an office desk. And somehow it seemed important that I did something to give people just a slight warning that they shouldn't assume that they knew me. Does that sound strange?

Anyway, I'd had one or two conversations with S, my ex, and she'd made it clear that many things were possible but a tattoo was not one of them. Naturally (grin), it then just became a matter of time, and sure enough one sunny Saturday morning, I "just popped out" to the shops with S's parting words ringing in my ears. "Don’t you dare come back with a tattoo."

I'll cut to the chase. I'd been in the chair for about 20 minutes, and the pain was just beginning to become strangely pleasurable. The girl who did the peircings in the studio had been leaning against the wall watching, and I saw a glint of amusement in her eye as she spoke.

"You haven’t taken a breath for about 5 minutes. Do you think it hurts?"

"Well" I said, "considering I don't know whether to faint or throw up at the moment, I'd say yes. It f*cking hurts."

She laughed and walked towards me, and without a word threw one tanned, sinewy leg over my chest so that she was standing over me, but facing my feet. A sort of reverse cowgirl, had she decided to undo my jeans and just sink slowly onto my shaft (oh, hang on, that’s a different story... ROFL) Instead though, and with her bottom inches from my face, she lifted up her very short skirt to reveal a gloriously naked, and perfectly proportioned pair of cheeks for my inspection.

Except that those beautiful cheeks weren't quite naked, because each one was completely covered in one large tattoo, a kind of jungle scene of long grasses and trees, revealing just a glimpse of the multitude of wild animals peering at me from their rather special vantage point.

After what seemed like minutes, but was really seconds, she swung her leg back over me, making sure that her thigh brushed my face as she did so. Then, she leaned down and pushed her face close to mine, staring straight into my eyes.

"Now that f*cking hurt", she said, grinning.

Post script: I should probably add that I got back home after a couple of hours, blood running down my arm from underneath the crudely applied plaster. S met me at the door, looked at my arm, looked at me, and promptly burst out crying. She didn't speak to me for three days.

15 comments:

NewYorkMoments said...

She cried & didn't speak to you for 3 days just because of a tattoo?

Parveneh said...

That would probably be the same reaction from my boyfriend if I got another tatoo...well maybe not the crying.

And it's not like you can really get a tatoo where your significant other can't see.

What is wrong with people who don't like tatoos?!

Sher said...

Was someone's ex-wife a little bit controlling?

Who cries over a tattoo? Unless you have one on your forehead? Then I might be a little upset with you.

dfhntryherh said...

geez, i know all about that controlling thing. i have a tattoo of a fairy on my right leg, just above the ankle. my husband was PISSED when he saw it. he said, and i quote, "only sluts who are looking for guys to fuck get tattoos..."

zooz said...

Wow, I love people's reactions on here. They're just never what you I would expect

k said...

Cool story. That's the kind of real-life shit that you just can't make up. A tattoo/ass-viewing appointment. What an adventure eh?

WDKY said...

NYM, my ex was a very passionate woman. But it had its advantages sometimes.

Parv, I guess its a matter of choice. But our choice!

Sher - I must show you the one on my forehead some time.

Seshat, I consider that response just a tad extreme...

Zooz - the PS was just that. I thought the story itself would provoke a reaction, but what do I know?

K - ah, at last. Yes, it was something of an experience. I wasn't expecting an anal close-up when I sat down, that's for sure.

it's all about me said...

Good story. I'm way too chicken to get a tattoo. But then I have the excuse of being extremely adverse to unneccessary pain.

Ah, I thought there was another reason for you not showing your face onblog. What does it say, that tattoo on your forehead?... :-)

WDKY said...

It say's "No tattoos here"! I'd look pretty silly otherwise, wouldn't I?

Networkchic said...

Branding ourselves with labels that explain us...always hurt the worst. But when they're healed, they become the ones that define us.

WDKY said...

I want to be always redefining myself, NWC, always evolving. Life is about change, it seems to be, and I'd rather be a part of it than an observer.

I've just hinted at that notion on your blog, actually.

Barnze said...

Beleve her it does hurt getting tattooed on the arse,i got one on mine..hurt like hell(I could have said buggery but i never tried it)

WDKY said...

Hey Barnze... I'm sure it really does hurt up... errr, I mean on the *rse. Especially complete coverage, although her cheeks were quite small, and peachy... rather biteable, actually.

Blueprincesa said...

When I got my tatoo, the pain made it feel like a rite of passage. I liked it, in a strange way. You come through something and you have something to show for it. And you're forced to be with the pain for awhile. There's something kind of cleansing in that, I think. That said, it's not an experience I'd repeat.

WDKY said...

I know just what you mean, Blue!