I was nervous. Well, I was shitting my pants, to tell you the truth. I had been thinking of a nipple piercing for some time now, but of course, I had done a search on YouTube and seeing the people scream with pain had dissuaded me. Until now. One day, God knows why, you have to have the piercing done, and no one can persuade you otherwise. So, you go and do it.
To gain some courage, I drank two tequila shots before heading to the tattoo studio, but they hadn't been much help. Now that I was there, waiting for someone to finish so that I could take my turn, I couldn't stop moving. I moved my fingers, I tip-tapped on the floor with my feet. Anyways, I wasn't calming down, and I was managing to make everyone else around me lose their patience just by looking at me.
Finally, one of the tattoo artists came to look for me, and took me to the cabin where I would have my piercing done.
I went in, and I stood there feeling shy. The tattoo artist was stunning. It's ridiculous, but you know that feeling when someone is really attractive and you aren't in the correct environment, so you start to look everywhere except where the person actually is, trying to be discreet about it? Well, that was me, with the tattooist; it couldn't have been more evident that she was turning me on.
"Sit down here," she said, tapping the stretcher.
While I was sitting down, she didn't move away one inch. We were very, very close. I got even more nervous and I smiled awkwardly, trying to seem nice and sure of myself, but without being able to look her in the eyes.
"What did you come for?"
"A nipple piercing, on the right one," I half-whispered.
"Okay, then take off your T-shirt and bra." She turned around, and starting preparing the needle and piercing. Meanwhile, I undressed from the waist up, my face as red as a tomato.
She marked where the piercing would go, and she prepared to sink the needle in. But, I couldn't even stand the first push. I have sensitive nipples, and I was predisposed for it to hurt, so I screamed so loud that it must have carried to all the floors of the building.
"Stop, stop, please stop, I've changed my mind. I think it's best I leave without the piercing."
She looked at me, her perfectly painted eyebrows raised, somewhere between surprised and amused. She took the half-pinned needle, and left it on the little table beside her. She was quick enough to hold my wrists down before I could put my clothes back on.
"I feel bad about you coming here to get a piercing, and leaving empty-handed," she whispered. "I think we should offer something else, right?"
I couldn't do anything but stare at her with my eyes wide open, not knowing what to say.
She fit her hips between my legs, and opened them to get closer. Then, weighing my reaction, she went to kiss me. When her lips touched mine, I felt as if an electric shock ran from her tongue to my private regions. I closed my eyes, and submerged myself in the kiss. She let my hands go, and I smuggled my fingers in her hair. She gripped my waist and pulled me towards her.
She moved her hands to my breasts, but when she touched the nipple where the needle had been seconds ago, I breathed in hard. It still hurt. She moved back a bit, and smiled with one of those smiles that say that what she had in mind was anything but innocent. Slowly, she descended over my body, kissing and biting her way down my neck until she reached the painful nipple. Delicately, she encompassed it with her lips, and stroked it with her tongue. That felt way better. My nipples quickly hardened, and I started to arch my back. I unbuttoned her trousers and slipped my hand between her legs.
I could feel the wetness through the knickers. When I saw she answered to my approach, I decided to go one step further, and introduced my fingers in deeper. I started to stroke her, first gently, then more brusquely while she still dedicated her (not-so-full) attention to my breasts. Her breathing was growing louder, and her licks and bites more intense. I wanted to go further, so I introduced my fingers in her while gently touching her clit with my thumb. Soon, enough she gave a throaty moan, silencing it with a bite in my neck.
She stepped back, that devilish smile on her lips again. I was sure that that smile would end up driving me crazy. She stretched my legs apart to continue with our rendezvous, when someone knocked at the door. Surprised, we covered ourselves quickly, and she opened the door. They only wanted to know if everything was okay. The appointment was lasting quite a long time for just a piercing. The magic, however, was lost, and the excitement had escaped through the door together with the other tattoo artist.
I left soon after that, with a little bit less money and feeling horny as f**k. I considered going again the next day, but I thought that maybe it would seem suspicious to the other people in the studio. And she might think that I was desperate. A little bit sad, I decided to pleasure myself that night, to see if I could calm down and forget about the little adventure.
When I got home and took out the keys though, I saw a piece of paper fall to the floor. I opened it right there, and saw that it was a phone number with a message underneath: "In case you need help taking care of that half-finished piercing."
Turns out that, in the end, I didn't have to spend the night alone.
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