2 #2
The orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy clenched around his fingers in tight, pulsing waves, a fresh rush of wetness spilling over his hand and chin.
She cried out, hips jerking, thighs clamping around his head while he worked her through it—licking up every drop, sucking gently on her oversensitive clit until the tremors started to slow.
Chase rose slowly. His mouth and jaw were shiny with her.
He wiped the back of his hand across his lips, then shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down just far enough.
His cock sprang free—thick, flushed dark at the head, the shaft veined and already leaking a clear bead of precum.
He was hard enough that it curved slightly upward, the head glossy.
“Still with me?” he asked, voice rough.
“Yes.”
He stepped in closer, one hand wrapping around the base of his cock, the other sliding into her hair. “Open.”
Jody parted her lips. He guided the head to her mouth.
The taste of him—clean skin, salt, the faint musk of arousal—hit her tongue as he pushed in.
He didn’t go deep at first. He let her feel the weight of him, the stretch of her lips around the thickest part of the shaft.
Then he began to move, slow, shallow thrusts that let her tongue work the underside.
“Every new piece,” he said, voice low and steady while he fucked her mouth, “is me claiming more of this body. This skin.”
He pushed a little deeper. She hollowed her cheeks and took it, eyes watering slightly, saliva starting to slick the shaft.
“You keep coming back for bigger ones. Closer to the places that make you shake. You know what that means, don’t you?”
She moaned around him. The vibration made his hips twitch.
He tightened his grip in her hair and started thrusting in earnest—controlled, deep enough that the head nudged the back of her throat on every other stroke.
Spit ran down her chin. She kept her eyes on his face, watching the way his jaw clenched, the way his abs flexed under the black T-shirt.
His cock was heavy on her tongue, the veins pulsing, the head flaring every time he pulled back.
“Fuck, look at you,” he muttered. “Mouth full of my cock, fresh ink still burning, pussy still twitching from my tongue. You’re mine to mark. Mine to fill.” He thrust deeper, held for a second, then pulled back so only the head rested on her tongue. “Swallow every drop.”
He pushed back in and came with a low, guttural sound.
Thick, hot pulses of cum hit the back of her throat.
Jody swallowed around him, the taste salty and heavy, more spilling past her lips when she couldn’t keep up.
He kept his cock in her mouth through the last few spurts, hips jerking, until he finally softened just enough to pull free.
A string of saliva and cum connected her bottom lip to the head of his cock for a second before it broke. Chase thumbed it away, then cupped her jaw and tilted her face up.
“Next appointment is in ten days,” he said, still breathing hard. “We’re going lower. Across the hip and down. You’re going to show up already wet, no underwear, and you’re going to stay that way the entire time I work. Clear?”
Jody nodded, voice wrecked. “Clear.”
He helped her sit up carefully, cleaned the edges of the new bandage one more time, and handed her the discarded leggings. When she stood, her thighs were still slick, her mouth still tasting like him.
Chase walked her to the door again, unlocked it, and pressed a brief, open-mouthed kiss to the corner of her lips—tasting himself on her.
“Text me when you’re home. And Jody?” He waited until she looked at him. “You’re doing so fucking well for me.”
The praise followed her out into the night like a second pulse between her legs.
Ten days later the shop was already locked when Jody arrived. The only light came from the bright overhead lamp at Chase’s station and the low red glow of the exit sign. She stepped inside and the door clicked shut behind her.
Chase was waiting, black gloves already on, machine set up, ink caps filled. He looked her over once—slow, thorough—and nodded toward the chair.
“Clothes off. Everything.”
She stripped without hesitation. Tank top, bralette, leggings.
No underwear, just like he’d told her. The healing piece on her ribs was still slightly pink at the edges; the older work on her breast and arm looked settled and dark.
She stood bare under the lamp, nipples tight from the cool air, the soft thatch of hair at the top of her pussy already damp.
Chase’s eyes dropped between her legs. “Turn around. Climb up on your side. Top leg bent and open for me.”
Jody settled onto the padded chair on her right side, left leg drawn up and hooked over the raised armrest so her hip and the soft crease of her thigh were fully exposed.
The position left her pussy open and visible—flushed, already glistening, the inner lips slightly parted.
A thin line of wetness had started to track down toward the chair.
Chase snapped a fresh pair of gloves, wiped her skin with green soap, and shaved a precise strip along the path the new piece would take—from the lower edge of the rib work, across the soft side of her hip, and down toward the high point of her outer thigh.
The razor was cool. His free hand held her steady, gloved fingers pressing into the flesh of her ass.
“Breathe,” he said, and the machine hummed to life.
The first lines were sharp and bright. Jody exhaled through the sting, focusing on the vibration traveling through her hip and straight into her empty cunt.
Chase worked with steady focus, but every few minutes his gloved hand left the skin he was stretching and slid between her open thighs instead.
Two fingers dragged through her folds, collecting slick, then pushed inside her without warning—slow, deep, curling once against the front wall before pulling free again.
He did it while the needle was still moving.
Jody’s breath hitched. Her pussy clenched around nothing when his fingers left.
Chase wiped ink, then immediately pushed back into her, scissoring gently, stretching her open while the machine buzzed against her hip.
The dual sensation was filthy and overwhelming—bright pain on the surface, deep, wet ache inside.
“Stay open for me,” he murmured, voice low under the hum of the machine. “You’re already dripping down onto the chair. Every time the needle hits, your cunt squeezes like it’s trying to pull my fingers deeper.”
He kept her there for the entire session.
Whenever she got close—thighs trembling, breath turning ragged—he pulled his fingers free and went back to the tattoo, leaving her clenching on air.
Whenever the edge receded, he filled her again, slow and thorough, sometimes adding a third finger, sometimes just rubbing firm circles over her swollen clit with the pad of his thumb while the needle dragged fresh lines into her skin.
By the time he finished the last section of shading, Jody was shaking. Her pussy was soaked, inner thighs shiny, clit so sensitive that even the cool air felt like too much. The new piece stretched dark and bold across her hip, the skin raised and hot under the thin sheen of ointment he smoothed on.
Chase set the machine down, peeled off the gloves, and looked at the open, dripping mess between her legs.
“You took that so fucking well,” he said. His voice had gone rough. “Kept this cunt wet and ready the whole time I was marking you.”
He shoved his jeans and boxer briefs down just far enough.
His cock sprang free—thick, heavy, the head already slick with precum.
He stepped in close behind her open thighs, one hand gripping the back of her bent knee to keep her spread, and dragged the head of his cock through her folds.
The blunt heat of him notched against her entrance.
“Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” she breathed. “Please, Chase—”
He pushed in.