Tatto Parlor

I was very excited because I was going to get my very first tattoo. I waited until I was twenty four before I decided to get inked for the First Time. Mainly because I was a daughter of a minister and had a job as a professional swimsuit model and both of them frowned on tattoos. But I had reached a point in life where I wasn’t going to be ruled by others and a tattoo is something I had always wanted.

It was late as I walked into the tattoo parlor in the center of town, away from my suburban home, so no one I knew would see me.

The only person that was working that night was a cute girl with pink hair and dark horned glasses. Her eyes were deep and piercing and she smiled at me with her red painted lips.

As I reached the counter she was behind, she stood up to meet me. She was about five foot four, wearing a pink tank top that barely held her huge breasts in, and a black pleated mini-skirt that was so short it didn’t cover the tops of her black and pink stripe stockings.

“Can I help you?” She asked me with a smile on her face.

“Yes I would like to get my first tattoo. My friend Susan told me that an artist named Christine is who I wanted to work on me.” I replied.

“Well girl, you found her.” She said as she halved bowed.

“Great, is it too late to get a tattoo?” I asked.

She looked up at the clock and saw that it was fifteen minutes before ten, then turned back to me and said, “Well normally I close a ten, but since you are a friend of Susan and this is your first tattoo, I will make an exception for you.”

She locked the door so no other customers would come into the store and asked if I knew what I wanted. I handed her a piece of paper with a drawing of a Celtic cross to her that I drew myself.

“Nice work, you should come work for me!” She said studying the picture. “So where on your body should I put this on?” She asked.

For a moment I drew a blank. I told her that I was a swimwear model and I couldn’t just have the tattoo put on me anywhere.

“I know a perfect place to put your ink on!” She said excitedly. “I can put it on your pubic mound! That way the only people that would know you had a tattoo is me, you and anyone that past third base with you!”
I laughed at her corny joke but thought that would be a great place because she was right about who would be able to see the tattoo.

She had me come around the counter and took me to one of the private rooms she had in the shop. Once we got in the room she shut the door and set her work station up. A few minutes had past, she finished setting her tattoo gun up, put different colored ink into small thimble sized containers and was ready to start working on me.

“Okay sweetie, I will need you to remove your pants and panties, and then lie on your back on the table there,” She said as she pointed to a padded table in the middle of the room.

Being a little nervous I hesitated.

Sensing how nervous I was, Christine smiled and assured me that everything was going to be fine and tattoos don’t hurt as bad as people let on.

“It isn’t the pain I’m worried about… It’s just that I have never had a woman being so close to my….