Tits for Tats Ch. 03

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For an old tattooer, life can be Hell.
4.3k words
4.48
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/26/2022
Created 04/13/2012
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MSTarot
MSTarot
3,110 Followers

My father? Why the fuck do you want to know about him? That fucker was a drunk.

Not sure what to do, I sat tapping my finger next to the mouse. The decision jumping from between yes and no in my brain.

"That's the hottest thing I have ever seen in my life," I heard Mary say in a whisper behind me. She bent down and leaned across the back of my chair.

I had to nod in agreement. I mean, how often do you get to see a sister give her brother a handjob? When it's not some crappy porno? When you know the both of them?

Running my finger up onto the mouse, I stopped. The tiny arrow sat poised.

"I think he may have done a better job on hers than you did on mine," Mary commented.

Smirking, a little I looked back over my shoulder at her. "I don't remember you ever giving me a handjob while I was tattooing you." My eyes moved to where I knew the dragon I had tattooed on her breast hides just under her shirt. I looked up into her dark teasing eyes. "Yeah, he did a better job, I taught him well."

"Ink you have absolutely no humility." She looked away from me and back up at the security camera video. I followed her gaze back to the screen. I watched Kevin clean his sister up. I saw her wincing now that it was finished.

Moving my hand like a snake to the mouse, I clicked the button before I can give myself time to think.

The security feed footage erased.

"Hey, I was watching that! What did you do that for?" she asked.

Turning my chair from the computer screen, I looked towards her. Mary, her beautiful body was backlit by the front windows. Fuck I was horny.

"That recording, in the hands of the police, is ten more years of hard time for Kevin. He just violated his parole. On camera." I glanced up at motion by the door. "Shit there he is, don't say anything okay?"

"Sure, Ink."

I watched Mary go back to her desk. She said hey to my old cellmate. Joked with him. Making like nothings, nothing.

As he crossed the room, I had to look hard to see the scrawny boy he had been when I was first locked up with him. Some of the other second-time cons would have seen him as a godsend. Young, fresh meat, ready to be used whenever the need arose. Hell, several old cons had asked to buy him from me those first weeks.

"Hey, Ink."

"Morning, Kev. How did the tattoo for your sister go?"

He hid a blush. I watched him go to one of the cabinets where we keep supplies.

"Oh ... it went well." He pulled out a purple jar. "She's more than a little sore and starting to itch. I'm going to get her some of the goo. I'll be right back in."

"Sure. Hey! Did you get a picture?" I asked knowing he hadn't. I smiled without it ever touching my lips when I saw his hesitation.

"It really needs to heal," he told me, rolling the jar in his hands nervously. "I want to get one when I've done the finish work. Right now it's just a mess of red skin and colored scabs,"

"Sure, just don't forget to get one once you're done."

Turning back to the computer, I pulled up his client list and mine and started looking over the names. His skills had greatly improved since I was in the House with him. I had been too busy to really watch his work since I hired him but I knew, from the video, that he can do better than I had thought. I started sending e-mails out to some of my more select clients.

I hesitated over one. A smile quirking my lips. This woman, well she was as beautiful as Kevin's sister. Hell, she was a goddess on high heels. I smirked. No, I'll keep her. Who knows, I might even give sex tattooing a try.

When Kevin came walking back in he paused to open the door for his first client of the day. He was just getting started when I heard Mary sing out with

"Welcome to Hell. Oh, hey Yank."

Lovely. My first client. Silently cussing the growing arthritis in my hands, I started the setup of my station. I looked up and nodded a greeting when Yank stopped flirting with Mary and walked over. The big buck-toothed bastard. Well over fifty, he still looked like he could gnaw his way through a rhino's ass. Bare chested except for a denim vest, he was covered with old blue ink. Grimacing, I looked at his massive hairy back as he shrugged off his biker colors and sat down. Sixteen hours of total work and his back piece was only half done. Hiding a sigh, I dug out my razor. Fuck with him I almost needed a weed whacker!

All my beautiful work was hidden under this black and gray pelt of hair! Fucking silverback gorilla.

"Oh, well. It pays the bills." I muttered under my breath as I popped the clutch and throttled up the foot pedal on my 'machine' to quote Kevin.

"This is my rifle, this is my gun. Never thought of that," I chuckled to myself as I started to tattoo.

The hours spent tattooing may fly by for some, but for me, they are always a slow torturous grind. My back would start to hurt after the first half-hour or so, and then it would become a constant ache. At some point after that first hour, the carpal tunnel would also start to numb my fingers. Kind of hard to do good, top quality, work when you can't feel two of your fingers and your thumb. But I was used to it, though.

What I was not used to, however, were my glasses. They sat perched on my nose, the frames distracting me. I often had to use my forearm to push them up, not wanting to contaminate them with my gloved hands.

And that I would not tolerate. Blood contamination.

After all those years tatting in the House, with no gloves and I never caught a damn thing ... I'll be fucked if I would let myself get something blood born now.

My eyes busy, I listened to Kevin talking with his client. I've never been good at that. Not even in the House. Oh, I could talk the talk. Make the Brothers shut up. The Chicano habla. And even get the Skins not give me hell. I could, when I needed to, even make the Man look away when they searched my cell. I would let them find nothing and be happy they found it.

But Kevin?

He could talk to a monster and have him laughing. I watched him sit for hours with stone cold killers, talking about Saturday morning cartoons. Guys who would just as soon slit your throat as look at you. Kevin? They loved like a little brother. That kind of respect in the house you can't make, you got to earn it.

Kill your old man with a baseball bat at sixteen ... to protect your sister. That's one damn good way.

As I watched him now, I remember his first day on the yard. I was trying to show him where to step, who to talk to but then I turned around and what the hell did I see? He was at one of the weight benches. Spotting for this muscled gorilla named 'Snap.' That sick mother fucker got the nickname from his love of the sound a person's neck makes ... when you break it!

Snap?

Oh, he was laughing and joking with Kevin like they were old friends. I watched shaking my head when the other muscle heads started to show this new kid how to do lifts the right way.

First day in the yard most new meats is just that 'meat'. Not Kevin.

After Yank left I was sitting there massaging my tired hand and I watched Kevin work. He handled his tools with a professional grace I had never taught him. Pride and envy. Now I suppose every teacher must feel this. That upwelling of pride when you see your student can surpass you the teacher. And yeah this feeling of envy and jealousy can't be an unknown either.

Oh, I still know a hell of a lot more, of course. Made a lot of mistakes when I was his age, things I can teach him to avoid. I chuckled then thinking about the loaded thirty-eight in the drawer of my station. It was identical to the one that sent me to prison last time.

"Maybe I need to get him to teach me a few things as well," I said under my breath.

Looking over, I saw Mary watching me with concern. Can't say I blame her much. Her livelihood was in the hands of an old tattooer with his back going out, his hands going numb. I gave her a wink.

"Kevin, when you get that done we're going out. Mary go get your glad rags on." I stood up and flexed my back, hearing the pops. "Enough of this for one night. We're going to go party!"

"Woo-hoo! Where are we going?" Mary asked as she started to shut down her computer and clean up her desk.

I looked over to Kevin and grinned. "Strip club."

Kevin looked up at me with his eyes going wide. I chuckled.

You see ... I know things.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

My old truck rumbled to a stop in the parking lot. Mary pulled her black and red 'Mustythang' up next to me and I looked over at her as I opened the door. I grinned seeing her flash a tit at me.

"Come on, Kev."

They carded him at the door. Mary too. Me they just passed through.

The fuckers!

As we walked in the music was what I would expect for this kind of place. Loud, rhythmic, and distracting. Well, judging by the girl on the stage maybe she needed it. I have to say she looked more like she was having some kind of spasm than dancing. Then I saw Kevin's sister, Sara, behind the bar. Knowing what was under her shirt like I did now, I grinned. Damn that girl was hot.

"Curtains don't match the drapes, huh?" I thought and chuckled to myself as I walked over towards the bar. Feeling generous I pulled a pair of twenties from my wallet and held one over her tip jar.

When I rustled it through her tips she looked up like a bee had stung her. Good girl. Already got that reflex in place. I grinned at her as I dropped the bill into the jar.

"Captain Morgan shots, if you please. Enough for two. And a beer for the kid." She glanced at Kevin in surprise. I watched her pouring the tray of shots with a delicate skill I have seen often in her brother. Wonder if it runs in the family? I took my drinks and pointed Mary towards at table by the stage.

As I drank my first two shots, I glanced over at Kevin talking to his sister. I exchanged a few shared glances with Mary that spoke volumes. Drinking the fiery sweet rum, I felt the ache slowly disappear from my hands.

I must say, the next two girls were a lot better dancers. Before they are done I was glad I had grabbed the petty cash from the shop. The feeling of their skin when I slid singles into G-strings soon had me hardening. I looked over at Mary. She was grinning at me. I knew, from long conversations with her under the covers after sex, that she was getting wet as hell from these girls.

I may not be the best tattooer in my shop anymore, but I was going to get me some pussy tonight.

Sensing movement behind me, I glanced over to Kevin as he moved away from his sister towards the stage. From the look in Sara's eyes, Kevin might be getting laid as well tonight.

The girl that took to the stage next was hot as hell. Long sexy legs, too thick thighs, tight ass, and two wonderfully large breasts. Lusciously overripe. I noticed the nipple piercing pushing up through her top.

The idea of maybe getting that going at the shop again comes back to the surface. I know a few people I could call that might want to rent a booth. Hell, I know a couple that would teach me how to do piercing. My hands might thank me soon. The vibration of my 'gun' was getting to me.

What? It's my damn shop I'll call them whatever I want!

Admiring the dancer, I watched with a grin as my apprentice slide a bill up the inside of the girl's thigh. I knew from where he put his fingers he had to have touched her pussy. When she then opened her top and those huge tits popped out I couldn't help the whoop that left my mouth. I grinned hearing Mary whistle next to me.

Then Kevin took off his shirt!

All my hours of work on display. Some of my very best, given that it was done in the House with crap for ink and tools. Under these lights, he looked like a male god of sex.

Chuckling, deciding to have some fun with the kid, I got to my feet and moved towards him. I started trying to stuff a handful of bills into his pants.

"Come on shake it for me, little boy! Show me that ass."

Mary and the stripper were laughing as I chased Kevin around a table for a second. Then I glanced back and saw Mary was in a deep tongue kiss with this stripper. I watched her hand go up the inside of the girl's leg. From the looks of things, Mary was possibly stuffing the bill inside the girl.

Fuck the play shit, this was hot!

I grabbed a chair and dragged Kevin down into the one next to me to watch the show.

I laughed and laughed, as I hadn't in years. Soon more dancers took the stage and the pain in my back was a forgotten thing. My hands found better things to do than hurt.

I tossed back my fourth shot of rum. It was a good night to be alive.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Not too long after that, I went with Mary into one of the side rooms. Sipping my drink, I watched as the stripper "Madison" gave Mary a lap dance. Then I enjoyed one myself. Mary moved over to me while I had this gorgeous naked woman grinding her ass on my hard as hell cock and whispered into my ear.

"Me you can touch."

"I'm in old man heaven," I said, softly.

The girl spun on my lap and sank to her knees in front of me. Slithering like a snake, her hands ran across my crotch.

"This doesn't feel old," the stripper said to me as she rubbed me.

I grinned down at her. "Oh, no the dick is new. It's like a Dodge truck. Works great so long as you get it rebuilt once a year."

She chuckled and then watched grinning as Mary ran her hand down my stomach and under my waistband. Her fingers curled around my cock like hot pieces of velvet. The stripper looked back towards the curtain. I could see the bouncer through the fabric. She moved a little to block the view.

"Y'all two going to get me in trouble," she said with a grin.

"Dance for us, please?" Mary asked as she slipping down into my lap. She lifted the back of her short skirt and I felt her bare ass cheeks on my stomach. I slid a hand down under her and zip down my fly.

As Madison started to dance before us I slipped between Mary's ass cheeks and into the hottest, wettest pussy I have ever found in this life. Hell, she was even wetter than normal.

When Mary started to grind herself on me the bouncer came to by the curtain. Madison moved forward till she was rubbing her breast up against Mary's tits. Mary undid a few buttons and pulled her thin bra down enough till her nipples brushed the strippers.

The girl stopped.

"Your tattoo? It's like Sara's."

"I did the original," I told her holding onto Mary's bare thigh as I felt myself throbbing inside her. "Kevin copied my design for his sister." I was talking through sharp pants for breath as I felt Mary wiggling her hips, clenching tighter and tighter around me all the time.

The stripper looked at me for a second, smiled and then leaned down to Mary. "Make him cum," she whispered. She blocked the view as Mary really started to grind herself on me. It felt so good I had to bite my lips to keep the moans in.

I clutched at Mary's shoulder and hip as I started to clench. The cum shot out of me and I pushed as deep into her as I could drive myself.

Madison smiled at us, and then kissed Mary.

The sight of this gorgeous stripper kissing Mary, while I was buried to the root in my lovely shop girl, was hot. Then she was looking at me with a look of ... I'm not sure what. Breathless, I sank back into the chair, panting. Mary moved off me and then held herself in place while I got my cock back in my pants. Then Mary fished my money clip from my pocket and paid the girl. Madison kissed Mary once then leaned next to her and whispered something I couldn't hear. I saw Mary nod. The girl gave a lusty shiver and gathered up her clothes left.

"What?" I asked grinning.

Mary grinned and a shrugged "She wants a night with me alone."

I grinned.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Over the next few days' things settled back into the normal routine. The work was steady; the pain was as well. I was used to it by now but it didn't hurt any less for all of that. I watched as under the demands of harder to please clients Kevin excelled. His work had been superb. But now the line work he was always good at becomes perfect. There was no other word for it.

By the end of the second week, he was doing work that would win him contests in any place.

I started to look ahead. There was a big bike rally up at Sturgis every year. I knew a few people who run shops there. I could make a few calls and book both Kevin and myself for the whole time. Working out of someone else's shop sucks ... but hell, even paying them for space we could make a fortune. My clients knew me well enough that they wouldn't terribly mind a week or two of delay.

I gave Kevin the okay to use the shop again on Monday. I was a little pissed at him when he asked again, but then I guess he still didn't truly believe me when I said he can use it like it was his shop. Self-confidence towards me had always been one of his big problems.

Closing up for the weekend, I grabbed my thirty-eight out the drawer. It would be smart of me to leave it in the truck, but sometimes I'm not smart. As I left and walked to my truck, following Mary's ass like a dog, I stopped when I noticed the van parked down the street. It was there last night as well. I started to feel an itch between my shoulders.

It was an old feeling. I felt it last in the House when I knew the guards were watching. Waiting for me to make a slip-up and leave ink stains where they couldn't deny having seen them.

I shrugged it away with a shiver.

I followed Mary to her place.

I felt like such an idiot, sitting on a chair, hiding in her closet. But ... watching her and that lesbian stripper go at it for hours ... was worth it. And what she does to me after the girl left?

Well, that's none of your damn business, you pervs!

Seriously, wanting to know about an old tattooed man getting laid? Ya, bunch of sick fuckers. Go watch a porno or something.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

The steaks were sizzling on the grill and the beer was ice cold when the phone rang.

"Hey! Ink! Man, what the hell's going on?" asked my friend Mitchel. It was not a friendly greeting. He sounded seriously concerned.

"Why? What's up?" I asked sitting down my beer. I saw Mary look up from the TV and over at me.

"Dude, there are like fifty fucking cop cars around your shop!" he sounded like the wind was blowing past his phone. "Damn man, I see county, city, state, hell there's even an F.B.I. fed walking around in blue and yellow."

"Oh, shit." I flipped off the burner on the grill and headed towards the door. I dropped the phone in the chair by the door on my way out. I could hear Mary yelling after me as I ran down the steps and rushed to my truck.

She opened the passenger door and dove in just as I was pulling out the driveway.

"What the hell's going on, Ink?"

I spun the tires when I hit the street and turned towards the shop. The motor roared.

"I think Kevin's is getting arrested." I shifted hard and punched the gas.

"What the hell for?" she asked, putting on her seat belt.

"Damned if I know," I said, softly. Though, I was suddenly afraid I did. That van ... had it been watching my shop? Watching Kevin?

It was a short distance to my shop and I saw that my friend was right. There was every flavor of police there. It was like the Baskin fucking Robbins of cops!

But it was the many different News vans that caught my attention first, though.

I was waved off as I tried to pull into the shop parking lot. I turned us into the convenience store next door. I was barely out the door of my truck when I saw the guy with the blue jacket, with the big yellow letters on the back, start walking towards me.

He showed me his badge like the blue jacket wasn't enough.

"Chris Tyler?" I nodded. My name sounded strange to me. I have gone by Ink for so many long years now my real name was almost never spoken. "If you will come with me I need you to answer some questions."

MSTarot
MSTarot
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