Salvation in the Sargasso Sea Ch. 02

~ Through the Turnstile ~

It was hard to decide if the goose bumps were from the cold air or from mild trepidation. The chill was easy enough to explain: she had taken her shirt off, exposing her back. Trish had thoughtfully put a warm towel on the pad to cushion her breasts, but she was still cold. The apprehension was more complicated. She had asked Leslie for a referral, knowing she was well-versed in these matters. Marla had made her decision, but was now having second thoughts about getting a tattoo.

The parlor was surreal: walls covered with artwork and photos, music blaring from the stereo, strange buzzing sounds and muffled cries. She was glad that Leslie had accompanied her, the encouragement was much appreciated. Trish had just finished preparing her back when the artist arrived.

"Hey Leslie. Good to see ya, babe. How's your rose doing?" Jared asked as he entered the room.

Leslie pulled her smock top to one side, revealing the new ink on her breast. Her beaming face answered his question.

"And who do we have here?" Jared bent down to get a glimpse of Marla's face. "What brings you to Albany on a Wednesday night?"

"Blind faith," she quipped, turning her head to look up at him.

"She's a little nervous," Leslie said, brushing the hair from Marla's eyes and caressing her head.

"That's perfectly normal. Getting your first tat can be a scary experience. This is your first time, right Marla?"

"Yeah, I'm a tenderfoot."

"Well, don't worry. We're going to ink your shoulder blade, and that's one of the least painful places. It's a great choice for your first tat. You won't need a pussyball."

"That's a tennis ball," Leslie whispered into her ear.

"I got your email with the sketch," he continued. "I like the idea of incorporating the infinity symbol into the snake's body. That really rocks. I redrew it in a way that works with the inks."

Jared showed Marla the artwork she was about to own.

"I like it," she said, trying to convince herself this was a good idea.

"Great, then we can get started. Trish explained the process to you, right? I'll get her to finish the prep while I go check the autoclave."

Leslie pulled a stool up to the headrest after he left the room.

"So tell me, dear, are you doing this for Jon or for yourself?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

Trish came back into the room with the thermal transfer. She applied a layer of stick deodorant to Marla's skin and carefully positioned the drawing.

"You're going to love this art," she said, gently patting and rubbing the transfer. "Jared is the best. But then I'm a little biased."

She slowly peeled the paper away, revealing the purple toner that would guide his needles. After covering the stencil with petroleum jelly, she left the room.

"Are they married?" Marla asked.

"No, not yet. She wants him bad, wants his baby, but he's reluctant. He wants to establish the parlor first."

Marla worked up the nerve to ask the question burning inside of her.

"Lez, what do you think of Jon?"

"He's evil and I should kill him for stealing you from me." Leslie laughed diabolically.

Marla knew that she was only half kidding; Leslie still had a little crush on her. She remembered going to a book reading and social shortly after moving here from New York City. Leslie had caught her eye, reminding her of Angel back when they had first met. Leslie had approached her to talk about the book and to check her out. Marla briefly considered taking her as a lover, but she couldn't put her heart into it, not after the painful breakup and relocation. Instead, they became close friends and band mates, a much better arrangement for both of them. There were times, though, when Marla still wondered what she might taste like.

"Come on, I'm serious." Marla rolled her eyes.

"Jon is probably the kindest person I've ever met."

"I know, but I'm a little worried about the band. Everything is going so well, I don't want to fuck it up."

"Fuck what up? The band? The only way you can do that is to start missing gigs, and I know that ain't gonna happen. Honey, nobody cares who or what you're sleeping with. The fans don't care, half of them are straight anyway. Josie and Shannon don't care, they're in their own little world. But I care, I want you to be happy. And if I can't sleep with you, then Jon is a good second choice."

Leslie wrapped her arms around her neck and kissed the top of her head. From her perch on the donut-shaped headrest, Marla's cheek sank into her ample breasts. Being cradled in the bosom had a calming effect on her, the same as it has always been.

"OK ladies, we're all set," Jared said, pulling up his chair and work table. "Are you ready, Marla?"

"Yeah, go for it," she said, her body tensing up as she gripped the chair.

"Relax, honey, he's not going to amputate," Leslie consoled her.

"I'll start slowly. You let me know if it's too much, OK?"

Jared loaded the cup with black ink and positioned the liner over the stencil. The machine buzzed and Marla flinched as the needles lightly pricked her skin. After a few seconds, she relaxed; the pain was nowhere near what she had imagined. Jared finished the first segment and smiled.

"Not so bad, eh? I knew you would be tough. If you hang with Leslie, you've gotta be tough."

"Or a glutton." Marla laughed, extracting her head from Leslie's chest.

Leslie gave her a pinch and nodded. Jared turned his iron up to its regular setting.

"So tell me what happened last Friday, after the VFW gig," Leslie said. "Did you go home with him? I want details!"

"I was pretty worked up," Marla said, glancing over her shoulder. "I'll have to tell you about it later."

"Jared, would you mind tuning out? We've got some girl stuff to talk about." Leslie batted her eyes at him.

Jared shook his head and put on his headphones, making an obscene gesture with his tongue.

"There, now you can talk," Leslie continued. "What got you so worked up?"

"It started that week after I met him at the VFW. I went over to his house with the busted Supro, intending to just drop it off, but I got distracted. He's a pretty good acoustic guitarist and has a huge collection of guitars and amps. I found out he's a widower and feeling ready to reengage socially. We sat and talked for two hours; some of it got pretty hot."

"Were you abusing that poor defenseless boy?"

"Oh, no. And he's not defenseless, believe you me. I was getting kind of turned on, so we played a role playing game, visualizing each other naked and fooling around. That's when he described the snake tattoo. And he's got a dirty mind."

"Dirtier that yours? I find that hard to believe."

"Damn near! Anyway, I promised to bring back some Cuban cigars from our road trip. We planned on sharing one along with his single malt scotch."

"Why am I getting an image of Monica Lewinski?"

"Eew! What a waste of a good cigar. Well, things got really hot that night in Portland. Remember the Candlelight Room gig? Right before the show I got a message from him. He had sketched the snake and sent it to me with a sexy note. He said he was hungry for plum pudding."

"So that's why you played so fiendishly. He wants to taste you?"

"Yeah, and I got pretty excited about it, too. I've never had a man do that to me before. Not even my ex-husband did that. I couldn't stop thinking about his tongue curling around my clit."

"And here I thought it was that andro-dyke who was eyeing you up. I figured you wanted to bump her donut."

Jared switched off his iron and wiped down Marla's back. She felt a burning sensation, but it wasn't too bad. The first phase of the design was complete.

"Now I'm going to start with the colors," he said, loading another cup with yellow ink. "How ya doin'?"

"I'm OK. How's it look?"

"It's looking fine. You're really gonna like this."

Jared switched the shader machine on and started filling in the design. He would need to use three different colors to get it just right.

"So, then he brought your Supro last Friday?" Leslie continued. "You were flying all night."

"It was unbelievable. Lez, he's been so freakin' nice to me. That amp looked and sounded so good, and it was a gift. Well, not totally, I suppose. It was in exchange for guitar lessons, so now I owe him. By show time, I was feeling like melted butter. I sent him a scotch and a note to make sure he didn't leave early. I wanted him bad."

"Where did you go after the second set? We were looking for you."

"Jon followed me out back for a drink and a smoke. We shared that cigar and a scotch, then he grabbed me and kissed me."

"Oh, what a brute!"

"I was an Amazon on her prey. I pushed him into a chair and gave him a wicked lap dance. I ground my ass down on his hard-on and put his hands on my tits. Then he reached inside my shirt and pulled my nipple, hard. I was so fucking horny, I could hardly see straight."

"Now you have my full attention."

"After the gig, we loaded his truck and he took me home; my car wouldn't start again. I invited him in for a nightcap."

"How did he like Schizo?"

"The cat didn't bother him, she ran off when he came in. I got my bottle of scotch and we parked on the couch. Our clothes stayed on for maybe five minutes."

"What took so long?"

"He pulled me on top of him and tore my shirt off. Buttons were flying and bouncing on the floor. I was a little worried that he might get rough, but once he clamped his mouth on my tit, I knew I was in for a treat. The way he sucked my nipple with his tongue and lips sent a bolt of lightning straight to my cunt. I was completely soaked."

"Me too."

"That's when I did it, Lez. I dropped to my knees and pulled his pants off. I sucked his cock."

"What did he taste like? How big is he?"

"I don't know, I don't have anything to compare it to. I suppose he's average size, maybe a bit bigger. I couldn't fit it all in, that's for sure. He tasted a little like body soap; he's probably a clean freak. I was kind of clumsy with him, worried about biting down. He stopped me after a few minutes."

"I guess I'm gonna have to show you how it's done. Did he get some pudding?"

"He stood me up and pulled my pants off. I was ready, but he turned me around and started kissing my ass. He apparently remembered that I had hinted about ass play; he was nibbling my cheeks and flicking his tongue into my crack. God, I was so fucking hot."

"A salad tosser?"

"Not quite, but damned close. I bent over hoping he might get adventurous, but he went straight for my pussy. Jesus, did that feel good. Then he wet his fingers and slid them inside of me; I could hear them squishing around. That's when he pulled a condom out of his pocket."

"He's a Boy Scout?"

"Without a doubt. Once he was ready, I sat down on him. I took him all at once; I was that wet."

Marla's steamy story was interrupted by a commotion out front. She could hear an excited male voice and Trish call out for help.

"Excuse me for a minute," Jared said. "Sounds like trouble."

Jared stood and waddled off, trying to hide an obvious erection.

"That bastard was listening," Leslie observed.

"I don't care. I'm getting all hot and bothered just telling the story."

"Keep going. What happened next?"

"I just sat still holding my breath. It had been twelve years since I'd had a cock inside of me. Jon thought he had hurt me, but I reassured him I was OK. Actually, it did hurt a little bit at first, but soon I was feeling warm all over."

"Just like riding a bike."

"Kind of, I guess. I was slowly gyrating around, rubbing my clit on his balls. He had his hands on my hips and was fucking me at the same time. I was getting really hot and my fingers and toes were starting to tingle. I could feel the pressure building inside; I was getting close."

"Did you get there?"

"No! Poor Jon couldn't take any more. He dug his fingers into me and growled something unintelligible, then it was over. It had been a long time for him, too. He apologized for his lack of control, but I told him it wasn't necessary."

"He left you hanging?"

"He offered to finish what he had started, but it was already three in the morning and I was feeling tired and drunk. He knows he owes me. Next time, I'll go first."

"Sorry about that," Jared said as he reentered the room. "Some drunk yo-man wanted a four-color for twenty bucks. I politely told him to fuck off."

"Are we almost done?" Marla asked.

"Real close. Just a bit more blood red."

"No more eavesdropping, you pervert," Leslie chided him, but her eyes twinkled with tacit approval. "It doesn't matter now, we're finished."

"Oh, well. Late again." Jared laughed and switched on the machine.

"Did he sleep with you?" Leslie whispered into her ear.

"Yes. We fell into my bed and he cuddled me until dawn. I felt surprisingly safe in his arms. I didn't expect that."

"Honey, you are in deep shit. You're in big trouble now, you've been bit."

"You may be right, Lez."

Jared finished the last bit of ink and shut off his iron. After washing her back he applied a thin layer of ointment.

"All finished. Let's go have a look."

He helped her to her feet and led her over to a full length corner mirror. He gave her a hand mirror so she could look over her shoulder. Marla studied the serpent, admiring how the yellow, blue, and red inks were artfully combined. The image on her back was bold and beautiful, and her face beamed with approval.

"That's the look," he said. "The look of satisfaction."

"Here, cover up for Christ's sake. You're giving him another hard-on," Leslie said, bringing a towel.

"I've seen more boobs than I can count," he said, getting a bandage from the drawer. "None that fine, though."

Marla rolled her eyes at the compliment. Both of her boobs put together didn't add up to one of Leslie's.

"Did you bring a camera?" Jared asked.

"I've got my phone," Marla answered, reaching into her pocket. "Here, Lez, take a picture."

After Leslie took a close-up picture of the fresh ink, Jared applied the temporary bandage.

"Trish will give you the aftercare instructions and some Goo. Just remember to keep it clean and you won't have any troubles. Marla, it's been a pleasure and I hope to see you back here again. You did great, very impressive for a tenderfoot."

Marla pulled her shirt on and gave him a hug.

"Thanks. I'll see how this goes. If I decide to get another, I'll call you first. I promise."

Marla turned to Leslie as Jared left the room.

"What are you doing with my phone?"

"I'm sending the picture to Jon with a little note."

"Let me see," Marla said, snatching the phone from her hands.

"Too late, I already sent it."

Marla recalled the message and admired the quality of the small picture. Leslie had done a good job capturing the image. Scrolling down, she found the text, "Your snake has left its mark."

"Leslie! You perverted bitch!" Marla laughed, knowing that Jon would enjoy the innuendo.

*

~ Sargassum Muticum ~

"Here we are, folks. I've got a Brewben with fries and a BBQ burger for the pretty lady. And two Aboriginales. Is there anything else I can get you right away?" The bubbly waitress eagerly awaited their response.

"No, we're good for now. Thank you," Jon said.

"OK, just let me know if you need anything." The young coed skipped over to the next table in her section.

"I've never eaten at Block 15 before," Marla said, tearing into her sauce drenched burger.

"They brew a good beer. This one is my favorite."

She watched the beer's head stick to Jon's soul patch as he set the chestnut-colored ale on the table. He seemed unaware of the adornment; small drops flicking away as he chewed his French fries.

"I can't believe you're going to eat that sauerkraut. I hate the stuff, it's too acidic." She pulled a piece of bacon from her burger and cleaned it off with her tongue.

"This kraut is good, sweeter than the canned stuff. Whoa, slow down! You're wolfing your food. Did you forget to eat today?"

"Um, I ate some pretzels on my lunch break, does that count? I thought you were going to have the Friday night fish fry."

"I changed my mind. I'm thinking about having some plum pudding later on."

Jon tried to keep a straight face. Marla playfully kicked him under the table.

"Shh," she whispered. "Keep your voice down, someone will hear you."

"Nobody's listening, this place is packed. Besides, I really want to see that tattoo. I can't believe that you got inked. What were you thinking?"

"I don't know, exactly. Last Friday night really affected me. Being with you jolted me back to reality. I guess I wanted something to commemorate my epiphany."

"Epiphany?"

"The realization that I don't hate men after all. The realization was that my ex-husband was just simply gay. The realization that I can be happy if I want to be."

Jon seemed to be having one of his introspective moments. After a minute, he cleared his throat.

"I'm glad that you're feeling relaxed. Being with you is affecting me, too. For a long time, I was sure I'd never be happy again."

She slipped her foot out of her clog and rubbed it on his leg. It was more of a comforting caress than a sexual overture; that would happen soon enough.

The tenderness was interrupted by a buzzing in her pocket. The displayed telephone number was from the 646 area code and was not listed in her contacts. She considered letting the call switch over to her voice mail, but instead decided to answer.

"Hello?" she said.

"Marla? Is that you? It's me, Angel."

The color drained from Marla's face and her bewildered expression gave Jon cause for concern. She turned away from the table and lowered her head.

"Angel? Are you OK? Where are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm in Seattle, on business. I thought I'd give you a call and see how you're doing."

"How did you get this number?"

"I had one of my I.T. geeks track you down. I knew you were in Oregon and he found your band's web page. He came up with this number somehow. Please don't be angry. If this isn't a good time, I can call back later."

"No, it's fine. I'm having dinner, but I can talk for a minute." Marla looked up at Jon's anxious face and mouthed the words, "It's OK."

"Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt. I'm spending the weekend here and I was hoping I might get a chance to see you again. Why don't you call me when you're done?"

"Seattle? That's like five hours from here."

"It was just a thought. Don't feel pressured to make the trip. I'll understand if you don't want to see me."

"No, it's not that. I'd like to see you again, really. You've caught me off guard."

She noticed Jon from the corner of her eye. He was waving frantically, trying to get her attention.

"Angel, let me call you back in a little while. Can I reach you at this number?"

"That's fine. I'm on my cell phone. Call anytime, please?"

"I will. I promise. Bye."

Marla lowered her phone and slowly turned back towards the table. Jon was studying her face for some clue about what had happened. She had no choice but to be honest with him.

"That was Angelica Sims. I know her from New York City. She's in Seattle this weekend. She wants to get together."

"She's a friend of the family?"

"Jon, she's my ex-partner. I used to live with her. For a while, I was in love with her."

Jon's brow furrowed as he absorbed the gravity of what she had said. After a moment, the calm of understanding washed over him.

"You have to go to her."

"It's been almost three years since I've seen her. We didn't part on the best of terms."

"All the more reason to go now. You have to, before it's too late."

"Too late?"

"You may never get this chance again," he explained. "It may be painful, but this is the time to decide. You might find your heart still has room for her, or it might be over. Either way, you have to know."