Eternal Tattoo by Tara Alton

I made it all the way to Eternal Tattoo with Michelle before I had to stop. No matter how enticing she made a belly button piercing sound, being a 21-year-old ex-nursing student from Deluth, I suddenly didn't want it done. I should have stayed home tonight like I'd planned instead of letting Michelle talk me into this wild evening of belly piercing, dining at a Greek restaurant and dancing at a night club.

Michelle's voice came from the next room.

"Do you have the green-colored bead for the ring?" Michelle asked the piercer. "That's the one I wanted."

I hugged my waist, thinking about the impending pain and wishing I hadn't let Michelle persuade me into wearing the tight, white tank top. It showed the scar on my arm, and it was the type of top that Timmy used to like me to wear. He said all raven-haired beauties with nice, pert breasts should show off their creamy skin, which was his way of saying he wanted to see my cleavage. Plus when I wore it, my nipples kept doing the movie star red carpet trick. They would not go down.

Timmy was supposed to be the tough guy type with a heart of gold, but he had really hurt me. There was a big difference between what he said and what he did. The day I came home from work with the burn on my arm, he went to the bar, saying he didn't like to be around sick people.

Since breaking up with him, I'd dated clean-cut men like bankers and engineers, but it always felt as if something was missing. The sex was bland, uninspiring. So I stopped dating completely. That had been six months ago. If it wasn't for Michelle, I would be the couch resident of the century.

The back door of the tattoo studio opened. A tall, well-built man about my age walked in. He wore a leather vest, ripped jeans and boots. Several leather straps held charms around his neck and wrists. His dark hair was held in a pony tail down his back. He was tattooed heavily, almost as if he wore a T-shirt. The detail was so intricate and colorful it surprised me. I'd always thought tattoos were ugly.

He glanced at me and walked to the front counter where he flipped open an appointment book.

Feeling an unexpected flush at his appearance, I dragged my gaze back to the tattoo designs along the wall.

"We could do something with that," he said.

I glanced at him, wondering what he meant. Seeing my confused expression, he came around the counter. To my surprise, he lifted my arm with the scar. His grasp was warm and firm, and his smile was sexy. I felt a shiver.

"Come with me," he said.

I shook my head.

"I don't think so," I said, but he pulled me inside another room.

I was a little breathless at his assertiveness. He turned on a magnifying lamp and examined the scar through the lens. Looking closely, I saw his left arm was tattooed with gorgeous Oriental fish.

I'd never had a stranger look at me this intimately before. When Timmy first met me, he had taken weeks to even kiss me. After that, he hardly touched me except to have sex.

"I have the same lamp at work," I said to break the awkwardness.

"You do? What type of work?"

"Assembling miniature electronics. That's how I got the scar," I said. "It's from a burn at work."

"The lamp is great for detail," he said.

He lightly touched the skin around my scar as if he were tracing a map. My skin prickled with gooseflesh. I imagined him touching me more, his hands on my naked skin.

"I wouldn't want to tattoo the actual scar, but I could work it into a design and make it into something beautiful."

I nodded.

"Look around," he said. "See if there are any ideas you like. My name is Jessie."

"I'm Diane," I said.

Letting go of my arm, he returned to the counter.

A little buzzed from his attention, I browsed through a photograph album on a counter. There was a picture of several Oriental men crowded around him. He was being tattooed with mysterious and mythical creatures. I found myself glued to the sight of his bare chest.

"When did you do this?" I asked.

"I visited a Buddhist monk tattoo artist in Thailand last year," he said. "His brother owns a Thai restaurant near here. He tattoos as well. I was heading over there in a while. You can come if you want."

"You're kidding?" I asked. "You'd take me? Just like that?"

"Why not? If it's something you're interested in."

I nodded as if to say I would give it some thought.

There was a sudden cry of pain from Michelle in the next room.

She appeared in the doorway with her shirt rolled up, her red mini skirt with the zipper on the side tugged down to her hips. Her long, ash blond hair was swept over her shoulder with a devil-may-care attitude. By looking at her now, no one would ever guess the prim business attire she chose to wear at the advertising agency she worked for.

Her face glowed with excitement.

"Look, Diane," she said.

I peered at the stainless steel ring running through her belly button.

"Isn't it neat?" Michelle asked. "It's a fourteen-gage ring with a jade bead."

"It's great," I said.

I tried to smile at the sight of freshly pierced skin. The tattoos from Thailand were beginning to look more enticing.

"Now it's your turn," Michelle said.

I hesitated.

"She's thinking about getting a tattoo," Jessie announced.

Michelle whipped her head around to glance at him.

"Are you serious?" Michelle asked me.

I looked at Jessie. I nodded.

Suddenly, Michelle paid for her piercing and pulled me from the studio. On the steps, I glared at her.

"What is your problem?" I asked.

"That guy is a creep."

"Why?"

"He's an outlaw biker," Michelle stated.

"Just because he wears certain clothes doesn't make him an outlaw biker. You didn't even talk to him. He's nice."

"Heās just flirting with you to drum up tattoo business."

"I think I can judge people," I said.

"Like you could judge Timmy?"

I narrowed my gaze at her.

"That was a low blow," I said.

Michelle tried to touch my shoulder, but I shrugged her off.

"Diane, the guy is trying to drum up tattoo business. He doesn't care about you. He cares about money," Michelle said.

I looked away.

"Are you coming to dinner?" she asked.

I thought about it. No. I didnāt want any flaming cheese or spinach pie. I wanted to stay. She took my silence as my answer and stormed off.

Jessie didnāt look surprised to see me come back into the studio.

During the drive over to the restaurant, I learned that after his divorce he went a little wild, but he had cleaned up his act. He was concentrating on his work now. As I listened to him, I felt so relaxed, like I could just say what I wanted to. With Timmy and even Michelle, I always felt as if I had to censor myself.

At the Thai restaurant, we went into the back room was like a living room, but on the floor there was a white tablecloth. There were bowls filled with food and flowers that Jessie said were offerings to the spirits from the tattoo artist.

"In Thailand, tattoos are magical because they serve the purpose of supernatural protection," he said.

He stripped off his vest, showing me his back. He had two tattoos of lizards, their double-tails meeting between his shoulder blades. How I wanted to touch his skin and explore him.

"The lizards are considered lucky," he said. "The artist is starting old Khmer writing above them tonight."

"What is Khmer?" I asked.

"Like a mystical text."

He faced me. I tried to look him in the face, but my gaze kept straying to his chest. The closeness of his skin made me feel like my temperature went up a few degrees. The tattoo artist came into the room.

After some ceremony in Taiwanese, the artist used a simple pointed steel rod, which was hollow at the tip to hold the dark blue ink. Pricking out the design freehand, he rhythmically jabbed at Jessie's skin as we sat on the floor. He asked me to help him stretch the skin to ease the work.

Touching Jessie's skin sent an electrical charge through my fingertips. I found sitting this close to him I could smell the scent of his shampoo and really see the details of the oriental fish. They were colored in orange, white and black, and their tales flipped and splashed in the exotic garden pool that covered his bicep. I glanced at his face. His head was turned toward my breasts. My nipples were still hard. Did he notice?

I looked back at the artist. He was tattooing a Khmer letter around a mole. The mole was transformed into the landscape of his work. I thought about the scar on my arm.

Suddenly, the artist stopped. He was finished.

"It's beautiful," I said.

Jessie looked at me.

"Do you want one?" he asked.

If I did it, there was no going back, but what had I been doing with my life anyway? I had been laying on the sofa for endless nights afraid to do anything. Maybe I had found something to turn my life around.

I nodded.

"I want a fish," I said.

"What kind?" the artist asked.

I pointed at Jessie's arm.

"They are Koi," Jessie said.

The artist had me lay on my side. To my surprise, Jessie lay down beside me spoon style and slid his arm around my waist. I wondered why, but within a moment, I found out. The tattooing felt like bee stings.

I gasped. Jessie held me tighter. We were so close I could feel the movement of his chest as he breathed.

"Try not to move," he said. "Just press onto me."

He pressed his thighs against mine. I pressed back. His mouth was near the nape of my neck. I could feel his breath on my skin.

Just when I thought I could take no more, it was over. He let go of me. I looked at the dark blue ripples of my Koi, my scar incorporated into the belly. The design was strong and sexy.

Suddenly wearing a tank top took on a whole new meaning. I wanted everyone including myself to see my arm.

We went back to Eternal Tattoo. Jessie lived upstairs in an apartment. He had it decorated much like the room at the restaurant.

I looked at the gauze wrapped around my arm. The endorphins from the tattooing felt like a natural high, but my arm was sore, as if someone had repeatedly punched it. Jessie sat next to me on the sofa. I remembered the feeling of his chest against my back.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

I nodded.

Without warning, he cupped my chin and kissed me lightly on the mouth. I gave into it for a moment. There was defiantly a spark here, a sizzle, a butterfly tickle in my stomach, but I pulled back. I thought about Timmy who said only I understood him. I had felt like this the first time he kissed me, but Jessie was looking at me, as if he were seeing inside me.

The anticipation of wondering what another of Jessieās kisses felt like pulled me in for more. I had no idea what expect. I prayed that it wouldnāt be a dutiful, slobbery kiss that led to his hand shoved down my bra.

Jessie was nothing like Timmy. He sucked my tongue. He licked the underside of my neck. Maybe because he was a tattoo artist he had a different appreciation of skin. I responded, sometimes gentle, sometimes rough. I teased him with a little bite on the lips. I wanted to eat him up.

The way he kissed my neck sent a tingle through my body and straight between my legs.

I inched off his vest, investigating his heavenly chest and forearms. Tattooed skin felt smoother somehow. I reveled in the different texture, enjoying his muscles, really feeling him.

Knowing his back was sore, I didnāt press against him too hard, and I didnāt wrap my arms around him. I just kissed him as passionately as I could sliding my tongue to the roof of his mouth, taking his breath away, and giving him mine.

His fingers brushed my lips. I kissed his hand. His wrist was so broad that I couldnāt even close my hand around it. Following his tattoos up his arm, I licked his skin, tracing the dragon, then an octopus, all the way up to his sternum.

I traced his other arm lightly with my finger tips, relishing the sinew and muscle. His biceps were so beefy. I couldnāt even wrap both hands around them. I nibbled the gills of his other fish, and I found a blue bird nestled on his upper chest.

"No one has ever touched me like this before," he said.

He kissed me even harder. Suddenly, my tank was off, then my bra. My creamy naked skin was framed against his flames. I loved the way my breasts felt against his hard chest.

Everything was happening so fast. I was naked and astride him on the sofa. He was inside me. Our bodies were mashed together. Holding his back off the sofa, he held me as well. My skin felt like it was melting against the shocking flames. I was engulfed in color, his dragonās tail wrapping around me, his octopus drawing me close, his blue bird whispering sweet nothings on my skin.

My bandage came loose and fell away. The air hit the fresh tattoo. Blinding, sharp pain. The shock drew in my breath. Jessie cupped his hand around my scar fish, blocking the brutal air, as my orgasm swept over me. I felt like I was being turned inside out. My toes curled, My face scrunched up, my mouth opened wide. My back arched. I completely let go for the first time.

As he came, I looked into his eyes, and saw such things that Michelle would never see, that Timmy would never understand, and that I knew I wanted. I pushed my tongue further into his mouth, never wanting it to stop.