Tattoo -Part One

His story

Background
My wife, Hanna and I are both thirty-something but like to think not fallen into the trap of becoming boring grown-ups! Hanna keeps herself fit doing lots of exercise and has a great petite figure. We have ‘adopted’ two teenage girls, Yolanda and Chantelle, who spend most of their time round here rather than at their respective patents’ houses. 

Their two families parents live in our road. The parents are grateful for this arrangement as their offspring are going through the normal teenage traumas. The girls seem to like our laid-back ways and young approach to life. They do their homework and even help with household chores!

Their parents give us groceries towards their keep. We decided years ago not to have kids and have careers. We have known the families since we moved into the Street about five years ago. Yolanda and Chantelle were only 11 and 10 years old then. For the past three years they have gradually made our place their second-home. Its as though we now have a ready made grown-up family.

Tattoo
About a year ago my wife started to talk about getting a tattoo done. At first I thought it was just one of those many crazy and wacky ideas she has from time to time! But she has persisted with it. The girls have encouraged her and I have said very little. I never thought it would come to anything and just said my usual responses, encouraging her to do as she pleases. We get on really well and very rarely disagree. On the subject of the ‘body-art’ I feel it’s her body and as long as it’s small and tasteful I’m happy!

About six weeks ago she announced that she had decided to go ahead and had found some designs on the Internet along with a local Tattoo studio. All four of us sat down after dinner and chatted about the handful of designs she had picked out. Eventually we had all agreed on a tasteful, small tattoo of a fairy. The site for this expensive work of art would be well out of the public gaze - on her butt!

The Appointment
Having all agreed Hanna made the appointment for the next Saturday. The girls were keen to go with her and she agreed. The studio was, as expected, situated in a rather run-down part of the City. I was pleased she was not going alone. Not that the area is known for being particularly dangerous, there are far worse places. In fact we had visited the area on quite a few occasions to visit a jazz bar. I could not go with her as I was out of town at a weekend conference. Anyway she wanted to surprise me and insisted that I would not have been allowed to come if I had been at home!

Her Story

Background
Despite the difference in our ages I accept these two girls as two of my closest friends. I wised at times that there was not so many years between us. If they were just three or so years older we could enjoy so many other experiences. How I would like to take them on a wild girls’ night out! Still they are growing up fast. Yolanda, the eldest, has a wonderful figure for her age and her breasts are almost the same size as mine! Chantelle is very pretty and could be model. She is tall for her age and has wonderful long blonde curly hair which reaches her waist. I miss those wild things I used to do ten or so years ago, before I settled down. However, in a couple of years I will be able to go out with them and relive my youth! On the positive side my partner gives me a lot of freedom and had been very supportive of my desire to get this tattoo done.

The Big Day
I set of in the car at 10 o clock in the morning with Yolanda and Chantelle with me. They were very excited about my tattoo and hadn’t stopped talking about it for weeks! I was pleased to have them with me. Whilst I convinced myself that wasn’t really scared I think deep down that I was a little. There chatting and enthusiasm too k my mind off the possible pain of the procedure, whish I had been assured would be less than going to the dentist.

After a fifteen-minute drive we parked nearby the Tattooists’ studio. I locked up the car and we walked the few steps to the front door. I rang the bell as I had been instructed on the phone. A receptionist aged about 20 opened the door and invited us in. I explained that the Tattooist had agreed that a couple of my friends could come with me. She showed us through to a waiting room and then asked my a few questions. Her bright red hair cut in a punky style was something I can clearly picture. If her clothing had been that of a punk I think I would have left straight away, but she and the premises looked clean. She was wearing a white dress similar to that of a hygienist or a nurse. 

Hospitality
The walls were adorned with various certificates and I felt at ease. The girls sat either side of me acting politely and saying nothing. We flicked through the various magazines whilst I waited to be called.

The receptionist offered us all a cold drink whilst we waited. It was a warm morning and we gladly accepted them. She handed over three sodas explaining that they were enriched with essential vitamins and minerals. Apparently the tattooist was into nutrition and health in big way and had developed the drink to promote healing after a tattoo. We soon finished the delicious drinks and she topped them up again. 

The Room
After a few more minutes a woman in her thirties came into the room wearing a white dress similar to that of the receptionist. Her long black hair was held back with a black ribbon. She introduced herself as Robyn and apologized that the tatttoist I was going to see had been unexpectedly called away. However, she was experienced and qualified and would be happy to take his place if I agreed.
I was relived. Whilst I'm not a radical feminist I do prefer to be seen by women doctors and health professions. It’s not that I’m a prude, far from it, it’s more I want to support women entering traditional male roles. I stated that I would be delighted to have a female tattooist! The girls looked impressed too and were even more thrilled when she said they could come into the studio and watch. With the understanding that if they felt squeamish they could return to the waiting room.

There were three couches in the room divided by curtains, all of which were pulled back. Robyn assured us that no other clients would be present. She showed me the picture I had identified from their Internet page just to check that I was defiantly happy with that design. With that out of the way she asked me to take of my skirt and lay face down on the coach. She then left the room to go and get her sterilised equipment. I was a little surprised at her request to remove my skirt. It was short and full and could have easily been lifted up and rested on my back. Still I presumed she knew best and removed it. 

I was beginning to feel a little light-headed and was grateful to lay face down on the comfortable coach. Yolanda and Chantelle sat nearby looking on getting a full view of naked rear. Thinking of the positioning of the tattoo I had worn a thong! Robyn returned and placed the tools of her trade on the small metal table next to me. She then made herself comfortable on her stool. I put my some-what doozey state to the warm day and fear. But strangely enough I didn’t feel any anxiety only tranquillity. It felt as though I had smoked a couple of joints – an experience I had not had since my student days some 20 plus years ago!

She asked me to lift my self up slightly and slipped a pillow under my tummy so as to raise my rear. Then came another request, which I was not ready for. She asked me to remove my thong. I did not respond immediately and aware of my obvious concern she explained it was for hygiene reasons and to prevent any of the dyes getting on my dainty silk underwear! As I gingerly pulled them down I was aware that the girls were giggling quietly. They had seen me topless sunbathing in the garden but never without any knickers! From their position they could only see my bare bottom so I wasn’t too embarrassed!

Robyn gently positioned my legs so that they were apart. My feet came to rest on the edge of the coach. She explained that the muscle had to be in the correct position for her to create the perfect picture. She was aware that I had never had a tattoo before and advised that she gently secured by ankles to the edge of the coach. It seemed a sensible idea. Once flinch and I could ruin the tattoo and at the cost of $100! 

The receptionist and another young woman then came into the room. Robyn explained that Jacque was a trainee Tattooist and asked if I would have any objection to her observing. I was delighted to oblige, stating that us women should be actively encouraged take on traditional male roles. She then explained that the receptionist was also thinking of training and was an art graduate. Her hobby was face and body painting and had done a course in henna painting too. In fact she would happily put a temporary tattoo on both the girls for free so they didn’t feel left out. The girls were delighted at the idea and admitted that they had gone off the idea of watching me get my tattoo!
With that they left the room with the receptionist!
All Alone
No sooner than the door shut she put on some load rock music. She explained she liked working to music. Fortunately I liked the sound too I recognised the compilation as one I had in my car. Her hand came to rest on the small of my back and my head became more drowsy. I allowed myself to start drifting into a daydream. I was aware she was touching the left cheek of my bottom. It felt nice and soothing. She had a very gently touch. But then I felt something touch my labia! At first I just thought it was an accident. But as a finger divided my lips I knew it wasnt! 
‘STOP!’ I said loudly. 
She ignored my plea and pushed it harder into my opening. I tried to close my legs but couldn’t due to the binding on my ankles. I tried to move my hands down to stop her but found that they too were bound, one to each side of the coach. How she had managed to do that I do not know. I can only presume I must have dozed of for a few minutes.

Within seconds her finger was thrusting deep inside me. I continued to complain but she said nothing and just kept on fingering me. To my shame and despite my complaining I was aware I was wet. The finger withdrew and I felt the familiar feeling of warm breath between my legs. How I enjoyed being licked by my boyfriends. If she did this I would not be able to control myself. I felt the familiar feeling of a tongue touching my damp and swollen lips. I begged her to stop but she just probed deeper with her tongue. I had to admit it she knew exactly what to do! Soon I was yelping like a dog as a crushing orgasm raced through my body. 

I was then aware she was mounting the coach near my face. Soon she had positioned herself so that her crutch was under my face. Her white dress was pulled up and her underwear had been discarded. My cheek rested on her shaven opening. I could feel its wetness on my skin and smell its aroma. She took me gently by the hair and soon I was obeying her instruction to lick her. It seemed pointless to argue. Somehow my normal assertiveness had gone and I was like a slave to her every command. She climaxed noisily and then left the coach. 

The Girls Return
My doozey state was interrupted by the noise of someone entering the room. I glanced over through hazy eyes. I would have rubbed them to check my vision but was unable to. For a moment I thought I was dreaming. In fact I had difficulty in discerning if what had just happened had been a weird dream or reality. I had never experienced or desired lesbian sex but what had I just done?