Tattoo Me

He tells me to lay down, so I do,"on your stomach" he commands and obligingly I do as requested. I do not need to see his face, it doesn't matter.

There is no pillow, so I fold my arm and go to curl it up under my head, "put your arms down at your side" he says gently. He puts on some music, "some Depeche mode?" I smile and tell him that would be good, he'd noticed the badges on my bag and 10 out of 10 for observation, but it will make the whole experience much more pleasurable...'Mercy in you' oozes from his laptop speakers, how apt! and I begin to relax.

I have been here before, I know what I am having done to me, the subject matter has indeed been out lined already. I love it, but then I love it all. I love it in ways I am not supposed to love it, it's not just a means to an end, in fact it's not 'even' a means to an end in one respect...I must like being in a perpetual state of frustration.

"Are you comfortable?" he asks, I am reasonably so I nod and take a deep breath

"how long will this take?" I ask him.

Quite cheerfully he tells me it will take about 2 hours, depending on how we go and I look forward to this very much.

I don't know how many other people get a kick out of this the way I do. My ultra sensitive back is exposed to him, and I know that laying here in front of this stranger like this makes me feel somewhat vunerable, but thats ok I like it. What I am doing is putting my trust in a stranger, its a very simple relationship, things can go wrong but I like to take this leap in the dark its part of the adventure I suppose.

He tells me he's going to start, and the gentle hum begins, the anticipation excites me but I hide this as he places a hand on my back and I make sure my hair is out of the way, then I feel it, a slight scraping, like someone lightly dragging a pin across my skin, it feels all tingly, slightly sore but deliciously so, he asks me if it's ok and I try not to reply too dreamily when I respond with "oh yes thats fine."

I wonder if he can guess what I am thinking, I rather think he can't, the sensation has changed a little by now, the initial soreness is replaced by the feeling of heat in a small concentrated area on my back, I feel really naughty because I am not supposed to be loving this quite as much as I am, even though I am laying on my stomach I can feel my nipples harden I smile to myself at my little secret.

My mind begins to wander, I start to think about ways a lover could simulate this feeling, try as hard as I might I can't think of anything quite like this, well not that doesn't result in some kind of hideous scarring anyway, I ponder over it some more but am interrupted in my thoughts as I am blasted on the back but a sudden spray of cold water, its like my nipples and my clit are joined by an invisible thread as it jolts my senses...this new sensation.

I feel the water drip slowly from its fine mist, down my sides, I know its going to be mingled with my own blood as he wipes me down with some tissue. He tells me he has finished that bit and the session breaks momentarily while he fiddles with his equipment, I listen more intently to the music, Dave Gahan is just peaking in the chorus of "Higher love" now and I hope that this man gets back to what he's been doing to me before it ends. He does.

After a little while he tells me how good I am doing, then he asks me if I need a break, I am dying for a cigarette but the desire to continue is greater, so I urge him on. By now its been over an hour, over an hour of constant, unyielding, stimulation, it's like one big long tease.

I am tormented by the knowledge that when I go home there is nobody there to forfill my almost desperate need, so I try not to think of this, I push it to the back of my mind. I am finding it increasingly difficult to keep my aroused feelings in check, I am throbbing down there and the aching for some ones touch is becoming overwhelming, almost to the point of being unbearable.

I can imagine how wet I must be and what it would be like to have this aching cavity filled by something hard and muscular, to have it pumping in and out allowing me to move the way I wish I could right now. I have to watch my breathing as I realize I am now breathing in shorter, sharper breaths, I make a determined bid to control this before I start making little gasps and groans.

I know I could actually come like this if it goes on much longer, I wonder what he would think if he realized how I was getting off on what he's doing to me, that thought just serves as more fuel to the fire, the very fact that he had no idea how he is turning me on, and the excited, heightened, state I am now in is purely a result of his innocent efforts.

He tells me he is done. That I can look now, so I do, tiny pin pricks leak a mixture of blood and ink and I admire the latest colorful addition to my back, he asks me if I am pleased with it and I tell him I am, adding "it's always a pleasure" and I smile, wondering where would be a good place for my next tattoo.