Page 20 of Just a Little Prick

“That one,” I said, tapping the fourth one. It was distinctly his style, and beautiful, and I loved it.

“That one?” He circled it, then stood. “Let me make the stencil. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure.”

He walked away for a moment while I waited. When he returned, he perched on a stool, rolling closer to me. “Where do you want it?”

“Ah… here.” I tapped the inside of my right arm, close to my elbow. It could be hidden with long sleeves there, but easily show when I wanted it to.

“Arm on the rest.” Bradley took a moment to place the stencil. When I was happy with where it was, he wet the back, transferring the stencil to my skin.

This was it. I licked my lips nervously, looking up at him. He had so many tattoos.

“Does it…hurt?” I asked.

He shifted closer. His leg bumped against mine.

“Nothing to worry about.” He broke into a grin. “Just a little prick.”

I glanced down. We were so close together. He sat with his legs apart, and I could see it clearly through his tight jeans, long and thick and perfect.

“I’d say it’s anything but alittleprick,” I replied.

He looked up at me, needle poised, eyebrows raised.

It was my turn to grin. “And I think when we’re done, I’m going to want more.”

Chapter Seven

Bradley

I couldn’t stop stealing glances at her tits.

Having Lora in my chair was a dream come true. She was being a champ, too. She made a few faces, and took a lot of deep breaths, but didn’t cry. She barely made a sound at all. The quiet was good. Between my work and the fact that I could see straight down her shirt, I was tapped out on my ability to focus.

It didn’t help that Lora wasn’t exactly subtle. She kept glancing downward, her eyes on my cock. I was already half-hard just from being so close to her. The little glances weren’t helping.

I needed to stop looking down her shirt.

That wasn’t going to happen.

I lifted the needle from her arm.

She let out a sigh of relief and opened one eye, looking at me. “Done?”

“Done.” I nodded, pushing my chair back from her and turning away. I cut a piece of bandage and turned back to her.

She sat staring at the inside of her arm, a smile on her face.

“You like it?” I peeled the backing off the bandage.

“I love it.” She nodded, holding her arm out to me.

I covered the fresh tattoo. “Good. Let me grab you the care instructions.”

I rose, leaving her to examine the new ink, and walked toward the front.

Zoe handed me a sheet of instructions as I approached.

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