Brenda Gets A tattoo and a cock (3)
Tugging at the edge of her suit again, Brenda pushed it down even further until the neatly trimmed curls of her pubic hair peeked over the top.
Dan gasped audibly, his breath catching in his throat. The tattoo artist, a young man with dark, ink-stained fingers, sat frozen in place, the stencil in his hand suspended midair.
Brenda’s fingers moved with deliberate slowness as she lowered her swimsuit a little more, just below her crotch, until her smooth, bare pussy was fully exposed to the dimly lit room.
“Right here,” she murmured, pointing to the soft, fleshy skin on her inner thigh, just beside the delicate curve of her mound.
Then, without hesitation, she pushed the suit further down, letting it slip past her knees until it pooled at her feet. She stepped out of it, kicking her sandals aside, leaving them discarded and useless on the floor.
Dan swallowed hard, his throat dry. His cock throbbed painfully, straining against the fabric of his shorts, forming a conspicuous tent. His mind struggled to catch up with the reality before him-Brenda, his beautiful coworker and newfound friend, standing completely naked in front of him, the tattoo artist, and even a couple who had wandered into the shop, their eyes wide as they gawked at her through the window.
His gaze roamed over every inch of her-her heavy, full breasts swaying slightly with each breath, her dark nipples taut and inviting. And lower… to the bare, glistening slit he had fantasized about for weeks.
“Well?” Brenda’s voice broke through the tension, her tone playful as she looked directly at the stunned tattoo artist.
“Oh-uh, yeah. Okay,” he stammered, shaking himself from his daze. “Sit on the table, please.”
Brenda left her suit where it lay, stepping forward with effortless confidence. Placing her hands flat on the table behind her, she pushed herself up until she was seated, legs slightly parted, breasts hanging naturally in front of her.
“Like this?” she asked, tilting her head, amusement flickering in her dark eyes.
The young artist hesitated. “Uh… spread your legs a bit more.” His voice wavered.
Brenda obeyed, shifting slightly, her thighs parting just enough to grant him better access. He scooted closer, placing the stencil where she had indicated. His face hovered mere inches from her naked pussy as he bent over to work.
Brenda’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile as she flicked her gaze toward Dan. She winked, a teasing glint in her eyes, making his pulse hammer in his ears.
Outside the shop, the couple still lingered, their fascination evident as they stared through the glass at the uninhibited, large-breasted black woman sprawled across the tattoo table.
“Okay, I… I think that’s done,” the artist murmured, pressing the stencil into her thigh before his shaky hands betrayed him, sending it slipping to the floor.
Brenda giggled.
Turning quickly to his workbench, the artist busied himself, preparing his tattoo gun, needle, and ink. His back was to them, but Dan knew what he was really doing-trying to regain control of himself, willing his body to calm down.
Brenda took full advantage of the moment.
Her eyes locked onto Dan’s, and a sultry grin spread across her lips. Slowly, she lifted a heavy breast in her hand, rolling the thick nipple between her fingers before giving it a playful tug. She jiggled it slightly, her expression daring, her wink slow and deliberate.
Dan exhaled sharply.
His entire body was on fire, his arousal nearly unbearable. The couple had finally moved away from the window, but another young man stood in their place now, his eyes glued to Brenda’s bare form.
At last, the tattoo artist returned, needle in hand. He knelt in front of her again, his focus entirely on the task ahead.
“You ready?” he asked, his voice tight.
Brenda nodded.
The buzzing of the needle filled the air as he pressed it against her skin, beginning the delicate outline. Brenda gasped softly at the initial sting, her body instinctively flinching.
“Sorry,” the artist said, looking up at her with an apologetic smile. “It’s gonna sting a little.”
Brenda took a steadying breath. “I can handle it.”
As Dan watched, he noticed something else-something even more intoxicating than the sight of the needle tracing her soft skin.
Her breathing had changed.
Her chest rose and fell more quickly now, her nipples visibly hardening into stiff, aching peaks. Dan could see every detail-the way her aureoles darkened, swelling slightly, the way her body reacted to the steady hum of the needle so close to such an intimate place.
Was this turning her on?
His cock throbbed violently at the realization.
From his place between her thighs, the tattoo artist remained focused, his own breath slightly unsteady. Unknown to Dan, the young man’s own cock pressed uncomfortably against the front of his jeans.
Brenda’s lips parted as her arousal deepened, her body betraying her. When the outline was complete, the artist pulled back slightly to inspect his work.
Dan’s gaze flickered downward, his breath hitching.
Her pussy glistened.
The soft folds of her lips shone with undeniable moisture, a clear, tantalizing sign of her growing excitement.
The artist cleared his throat. “Okay, uh… I’ll get the color…”
He moved quickly to his workbench, his hands fumbling slightly as he reached for the ink. Then-
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. “I need to grab more.”
Without another word, he stepped out of the room.
Brenda’s eyes immediately found Dan’s.
Her pupils were blown wide with lust, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. Then, without hesitation, she slid a hand between her parted thighs, fingers ghosting over her own swollen heat.
Dan nearly lost it.
She rubbed herself lightly, teasing, her fingers gliding over her slick folds, a barely-there touch that had his entire body tightening with need.
Then, as suddenly as she’d started, she stopped-just in time for the artist to reenter the room.
Dan swallowed hard.
Her pussy lips remained slick, swollen, her arousal thick in the air, undeniable.
The artist returned, needle in hand. “This part’s gonna hurt a little more,” he explained. “I need to stand beside you for better precision.”
Brenda nodded.
Moving to her side, he gently grasped her thigh, pulling her legs a little further apart. Then, the buzzing resumed as he pressed the needle into her flesh once more.
Brenda whimpered, rolling her head back slightly. The pain… mixed with the undeniable pleasure thrumming through her veins.
Her fingers twitched at her side.
Dan saw it all-felt it all. He clenched his jaw, his own restraint hanging by a thread as he watched the woman he desired more than anything writhe under the intensity of it all.
Outside, another customer had joined the growing audience.
Brenda’s breaths came in soft, uneven pants now, her body entirely at the mercy of the sensation-the pain, the pleasure, the sheer eroticism of being on full display.
Dan’s fingers twitched at his side, aching to touch himself, aching to reach out and touch her.
And as the artist continued his work, Brenda let her legs fall even wider apart, her bare, needy cunt fully exposed.
Dan’s control snapped.
His hand drifted lower, pressing firmly against the aching bulge in his shorts, his mind already lost to the moment.
And Brenda?
She licked her lips, her body burning, pulsing, begging for more-more touch, more sensation, more release. The steady hum of the needle sent shivers down her spine, the sharp sting of it blending with the throbbing ache between her thighs.
Dan was completely entranced, his fingers tightening around his swollen shaft through his shorts. He could barely think, barely breathe, watching her body react so shamelessly.
Brenda tilted her head back, her lips parting as a breathy moan escaped. She knew exactly what she was doing to him-to all of them. And she didn’t care.
The tattoo artist shifted, adjusting his angle, his fingers pressing firmer into the soft flesh of her thigh. His knuckles brushed ever so slightly against her slick heat, and Brenda gasped, her hips jerking in response.
“Sorry,” the artist mumbled, though his voice was strained, his hands less steady than before.
Brenda exhaled slowly, dragging her nails down her own stomach, reveling in the way her skin tingled under her own touch. Every nerve in her body was on fire, every sensation amplified by the erotic charge in the air.
Dan clenched his jaw, his restraint hanging by a fragile thread. The sight of her like this-exposed, aching, needy-was driving him to the brink of madness.
Outside the window, the watching eyes remained fixed on her, the growing audience enraptured by the unabashed display of raw sensuality before them.
And then, as the artist filled in the final touches of ink, Brenda’s fingers twitched again-hovering just above the swollen bud of her clit, aching for one final push, one final moment to tip her over the edge…