The Buzz

Copyright © 2006 by Crystal Barela

The tickle and burn of the pigment-filled needle scratched my lower back.

“Don’t move," the tattooist said. Her dark eyes in the mirror reflected back at me in warning. She laid a steady hand on my spine and bent to her work.

Buzz, pause, wipe. Buzz.

Six months had been put into the applying ink to my skin. The design covered three quarters of my back. My only request had been stilettos.

The likeness of a Goth hellcat astride a Harley lounged across my shoulder blades. The stiletto heel of one thigh-high boot grew from the crack of my ass, the other propped on the handlebars. Knees spread wide, the hellcat’s lace covered pussy a shadow between her legs.

The tattoo artist’s cinnamon breath burned my skin as she leaned closer to add the finishing touches.

Buzz, pause, wipe. Buzz.

In the mirror, I could see the dark sheen of her hair piled on top of her head, and the glint of the silver bar in her eyebrow. The tattoos on her shoulders and biceps danced while she worked.
My pussy twitched.

Buzz, pause, wipe. Buzz.

An hour crept by, my heart racing with every swipe of the needle. Six months of work. Me lying ass in the air, panties barely covering my dripping pussy and my nipples hard beneath my tee. Pain and pleasure became one.

She squeezed my hip - a warning to be still - but my hips were connected to my pussy, and with every nick of ink my excited flesh pulsed. The casual touch of her talented fingers were driving me mad.

A long sigh, like a woman satisfied, blew from between her lips. My thighs pressed tight as my imagination ignited. The wet sound of lotion between her palms added fuel to my fire.

“Done.”

"How's it look?" I asked, twisting round.

Over my shoulder, her black painted fingernails were dark against my pale skin.

"I had a beautiful canvas." Her plump lips lowered and I watched, transfixed, as they connected with my sensitive flesh.

Our eyes caught.

My pussy buzzed.

"Go ahead," she said, standing.

I slid my hand beneath me.

With a quick move my fingers were in, tangled in my short curls.

My eyes closed and I pressed my cheek into the table, biting my lip.

Her heels clicked as she walked past me.

“Open your eyes.”

Skirt lifted, her thigh high stilettos drew my eyes to her clean-shaven pussy. Flowered tattoos framed the gleaming skin in a riot of color. A ring pierced her labia.

Wetness soaked my palm.

Bracing one hand against the wall she lifted her leg so that the six inch heel was beside my cheek.

I nuzzled against the patent leather.

“Lick it!”

The heel was hard beneath my tongue.

My breath caught, thighs stiffened, clit on end.

Pussy buzzzzzz.

Pause.

Wipe.