Tattoo (Patreon)

Time for another trip back into the tumblr archives for this one, and even though it was written years ago, I still remember having to take more than one writing break to calm myself down as I typed this one...

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I’m shopping for a tattoo artist. I’ve been thinking about getting one for years, and finally, I came up with the perfect tattoo idea. it sounds cliche, but I took a Mandarin class in college, and I want to get my favorite quote tattooed. I don’t want people to judge me and think I just chose random Chinese characters, so I don’t want it to be super visible. I was thinking somewhere below the belt- right below the belt.

I checked artist reviews and looked at all their websites. Finally, I chose my guy, Brian. His work was beautiful, and all of his work looked like it had been photoshopped onto his clients’ skin. And speaking of beautiful, he was pretty easy on the eyes himself. He really only had one picture on his website of him- it was a picture of him posing next to his shop when it just opened. He was wearing shorts and a tank, which showed off plenty of his skin covered in tattoos. His biceps were massive, and they were both covered with a intricate rope pattern. His legs were tattoo free, but I kept staring at them in the picture. You could see his well defined calves without zooming in at all.

But it was his face that sold me. He had such a serious jawline, like it was chiseled out of rock. He had short hair combed over the side and icy blue eyes. But he had the biggest smile on his face that softened his features, as if the photographer had caught him mid-laugh. I booked my appointment right then.

A week passed by, and I was hopefully ready to get tattooed. I walked in, and a bell chimed from up above. I heard a tattoo gun buzzing in the next room.

“I’ll be right out there; just chill in the waiting room,” came a friendly yell from the same room. I sat and tried to read a magazine, but my hands kept shaking. Finally, a woman walked out with a bandage over her upper arm.

“Good luck- this guy is way better than my last artist!” She smiled and walked out the door. When I looked back up, Brian was in the doorway.

“Hey man, is it Marcus? Do I have my times right?” He gave me that same smile as in the picture, but a lot else had changed. His muscles were even bigger, and his smile was surrounded by a trimmed beard that made him look older, sexier. He was still wearing shorts and a tank, so I guess he was still partly the same. I stole my eyes back up to his face and answered, hoping it hadn’t been too long since he asked the question.

“Awesome- come on back dude, you said you had a tattoo in mind?”

“Yeah, I printed it off here- it’s a phrase in Chinese. Is that okay?” I followed him into the clean, back room. He had artwork and generic templates all over the walls.

“Yeah, I’ve done plenty of those characters. But warning, I only speak English so I hope you translated it correctly.” That damn smile again.

“Haha, I speak the language, so I should be good. I just don’t know where to put it. I was thinking somewhere on my thigh, but I don’t how it would look.” I offered up the sheet of paper to Brian, and he looked it over.

“Is this how big you want it?”

‘I guess, I don’t want it any bigger than that. Would that look okay on my leg?”

Brian kept looking between me and the paper, thinking it over.

“Let’s test it out. Drop your shorts and we can map it out if you want.” Very direct. I tried to will my mind somewhere else and pretend I didn’t get turned on right then. I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off. I was wearing a black pair of briefs that luckily still left some to the imagination. Brian apparently wasn’t phased at all though and quickly began tracing over the print with a marker onto my leg. He was drawing right below my briefs, inches away from my dick. He was careful, he never moved his hand over it once, no matter how much I willed it to happen. Damn, I guess he was straight.

“Okay, there’s a rough mock-up. What do you think?” I looked down at my leg and there was no aha moment. It just looked like a bunch of writing on my leg.

“Hmm, you’re not digging it. Is it the placement- do you wanna go higher, lower?”

“I think it might be better higher, like right above the edge of my underwear.” Brian was contemplating again.

“Hmm, I can’t really redraw it without overlapping, and that wouldn’t get us anywhere. Let me just map it out on my leg and see. Is that cool?” I tried to keep from answering too quickly, but my mind immediately shouted YES inside.

“Yeah, that’ll work. That won’t be weird for you will it?”

He just shrugged his shoulders, “People come in here and are basically naked so I’m not even phased anymore.” He whipped down his gym shorts to reveal a white pair of trunks. They were extremely tight and almost transparent- I’m not sure if Brian knew, or he might not even care. He leaned down and started drawing on his leg, but he didn’t get far.

“Uh, this stupid shirt keeps dropping down over where I’m drawing it.” I think he was just talking to himself, so I just continued staring. The shirt drooped again, and with a grunt, he just pulled the tank over his head, looked up and muttered a sorry, and continued drawing.

This man was an adonis. He was leaned over, scrunching up his stomach, but I could still see those toned abs. His pecs were huge, and he was tan all over. I tried to quit staring, but with his head down, I had no real reason to stop.

After another minute, he finally stood up straight again and showed off the bottom row of characters.

“Okay, too low or just right? If you want to see higher, I can do that real quick too.” These characters were basically already right at the bottom of his trunks so I wasn’t sure how he could go higher, but I wanted to see.

“Am I the worst if I say higher?” He just laughed and said it was all good. He looked down to continue drawing, but realized that he had run out of room.

He chuckled again, “Hope you’re not modest.” He didn’t really wait for an answer before shimmying out of his trunks. I was too shocked to get a good look before he covered his crotch with the balled up fabric again. He kept drawing as if this were a normal occurrence- he was even humming to himself. I could now see the well-defined v-line of his waist, angling in to his covered crotch. His thighs were hairless all the way up, and there wasn’t a tan line either. Maybe this guy wasn’t straight after all- maybe he was coming on to me?

I started firming up at the thought of that and quickly brought a hand up to cover my crotch. But the contact made me get hard faster. He looked up right at that moment, smiling at his completed work. His smile got even bigger when he saw where my hand was.

“Huh, looks like someone is getting a little excited about his tattoo. Don’t worry, it happens all the time. You’ll be back to normal once the needle starts going.”

He turned around to grab his stool, flashing me the most beautiful ass that I’d ever seen. I was now rock hard.

“Oh shit dude, I totally forgot. Oh shit.” He tried to quickly step back into his underwear to cover himself, but when he put his first leg in, he accidentally stepped down and his trunks ripped right in two as he lifted them up.

This Greek god was now standing completely naked in front of me, baring his cock for the first time. He was semi-hard and about the same size as me. He had a trimmed bush that outlined a cock that was still growing.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He quickly covered himself and sat down, but the damage was done. He had this sheepish look on his face, willing the last five minutes to reverse.

“Hey man, you’re totally fine. Obviously I’m enjoying the show.” I gestured down at my briefs, which were barely holding in my now fully hard cock. There was still a chance that I was about to be kicked out, and I waited, pleaded for him to respond. He looked up at my face with that smile again.

“You’re not getting that tattoo done today are you?”

“I doubt I could right now.”

“Well, what are we gonna do for the last 30 minutes of your appointment instead?”

I gave him my own smile right back and slowly pushed down the waistband of my briefs, and he slid his stool closer.