Friday, July 13, 2012

Excerpt From Jessica Lennox's Anything Goes: Queer Lesbian Erotica

Here's a treat: a peek into the beautifully sexy mind of Jessica Lennox from her new book, Anything Goes: Queer Lesbian Erotica



STING


I’m no tattoo expert. I’m not a fanatic or even what most would consider an enthusiast. I admit I know almost nothing about tattoos except that they make me want to fuck, and they hurt like hell. I’m not in love with the hurt-like-hell part, but I enjoy the effect they have on me.

I’m not one of those people that enjoy the pain of a tattoo, but there is something seductive about knowing the person sporting the tattoo had the balls to withstand it. I’ve listened to people describe the pain as something akin to a religious experience, or something as blissful as sex. I’ll admit, I look at these people like they have three heads, because to me it’s more akin to an irritating, constant bee sting, and it takes every bone in my body not to slap or kick the person holding the tattoo gun.

Most tattoo shops are busiest late at night, when people are in the mood to party, or drink, or do something crazy, or all the above. When I arrived, it was still relatively early so there were only a few people hanging around - waiting to be worked on, I assumed.

Since I’d never been to this particular shop before, I walked around hoping I’d get a vibe from the place, trying to feel-out the people both working there and just hanging around.

Usually, staring at people is something that is frowned upon, but when it comes to tattoos, it’s welcomed and appreciated, so I indulged myself and let my eyes wander from stranger to stranger, staring at the depictions of women, animals, insects, flags, and a variety of other images worthy enough to adorn their skin.

After several minutes of euphoric lusting, I brought myself back to reality and began browsing the walls of endless designs. A few images caught my eye, and I noticed they were all drawn by the same artist – “Gia”. I asked the girl at the counter if the artist was available. Just my luck - she had an opening in an hour. I browsed some of the other designs out of boredom, then finally sat down, impatiently, grabbing a random magazine to pass the time.

Finally, Counter Girl told me Gia was ready for me and led me into the back area. As I followed her through the maze of hallways, I was impressed that each room was private, complete with a closable door. Most shops I’d been to had curtains between booths, at best.

As we stepped into a room at the end of the hall, the person I assumed to be Gia was standing with her back to me as she set up a small table of instruments. I sat down in a plastic chair and noticed that her arms and the back of her neck were adorned with gorgeous artwork. I let my eyes take it all in. Since it was obvious she was engrossed in what she was doing, I took advantage to indulge and stare to my heart’s content. Her tattoos were stunning, and I wondered who did them. Surely she couldn’t have done them herself.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally turned around, and I stopped breathing for a minute. I’ll admit, although I’d never been with a woman sexually, I had a crushing attraction for bad girl/tattooed/goth-girl types – and this one was certainly a stunner. She had an angelic face, but her dark makeup gave her a mysterious, hard-edged look, and her short black hair was sexy in contrast to her pale skin. The fact that her halter-top showed off her perfect breasts didn’t bother me at all either.

I didn’t know what else to do other than sit there and admire he until she finally motioned for me to sit on the table.

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

“Fuck me until I pass out” came to mind, but I reminded myself of my purpose for being here and replied, “I really dig your artwork. I don’t have a specific design in mind, though. Perhaps you can do something freestyle - something along the lines of a tribal design.”

Her body language was full of attitude as she stood there and looked me up and down for a few seconds. She’s probably had a thousand clients who didn’t know what the hell they wanted, and here I was – another one. After a short pause she crossed her arms and said, “Well, I could, but it’s better if you choose a design, that way there’s no misunderstanding. Know what I mean?”

I nodded, noticing for the first time that she had the tip of her tongue pierced with a small hoop through it. “I understand,” I said. “I’d be willing to sign something just so we don’t have any problem. I trust your artistic ability.”

She laughed and said, “Well, there’s no need for the signature. Let me just get a few specifics. Where do you want the tat?”

“Here,” I said, touching the right side of my groin area.

“Okay, I’ll have to shave you.” I could swear she smirked when she said that.
“I’m already shaved. Completely.”

Her eyebrows shot upward, then she asked, “How big do you want it?”

Again, my brain was going to the gutter, but I kept it cool and replied, “Nothing too big. About two inches around.”

“All right. How about something like this?” She pulled a page from a book and brought it over to me, showing me a tribal design encased in an octagon. As I studied the design, I couldn’t help but look at her glorious cleavage, which was now mere inches from my face. It took all my willpower not to lean over and lick her, but I finally got myself together and told her that the design was perfect.
“Great, let’s get started,” she said, shutting the door. “I’m going to need you to remove your shorts, and panties as well.”

“Okay,” I said, in a shaky voice. Did I mention that I hate the sting of the needle? And I was having some weird conflict between that and feeling excited at the same time. Not to mention, Gia’s energy was full of sexuality, and her hands were soon going to be on my half-naked body.

As I undressed, she turned her back to me, fiddling with things on the table. When I had everything off from the waist down, I sat on the table, put my hands in my lap and said, “Okay, I’m ready.”

She turned around, allowing her gaze to travel over my bare legs, then said, “I’m going to need you to lie back. That’ll keep the skin taut, and it’ll make it easier for me to work on you.”

Oh, I wanted her to work on me all right, but I tried to keep my thoughts in check as I eased myself backward. The table was cushioned with padded leather and a disposable linen cover, so it was soft and comfortable. Its reclined position made it so that I could see what she was doing, although I wasn’t sure I wanted to – I hated needles of any kind. As I tried to get my nerves under control, her voice startled me, causing me to jump slightly.

“I’m going to clean the area with alcohol. It’s going to be a cold, sorry.”
Even though she had warned me, I jumped when I felt the spray hit my skin. She placed her warm hand on my abdomen, and said “Easy” in a low voice, and that turned my arousal up a notch. This is not the state I wanted to be in. I wanted to be relaxed, not anxious and aroused. I tried to focus on anything but her hand, which was so close to my pussy that I wanted to scream, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I secretly wanted her to touch me there. But she was all business and seemed not to notice anything out of the ordinary as she wiped my skin clean with a sterile gauze pad.

Then I heard the buzz of the gun, and all thoughts of anything sexual disappeared in an instant. I tried to calm myself by breathing slowly and thinking about warm, tropical places and sandy beaches. I reminded myself about how happy I’d be when it was all over and I would be sporting a gorgeous new tattoo. It was a nice idea, but I bit my lip anyway, bracing against the pain.

As Gia worked on me, she kept moving her hand to different areas on my body, trying to get the best angle. I felt her fingers move from my abdomen, to my thigh, to my hip, and although I know she didn’t do this for any purpose other than her work, it was turning me on like crazy. I decided to use this as a distraction from the pain. I pulled my focus together, thinking only of her hand. No more thoughts of that annoying sting that kept biting me. Although my arousal was intensifying, I kept reminding myself that her touch was not for this purpose. But when she placed her hand just above my pussy to pull it taut, I couldn’t help but moan and arch my hips slightly. She looked up at me then and said, “Everything okay?”

I could feel my cheeks turning red, as I answered, “Yes, sorry.”

She smiled at me and said, “If you need a break, just let me know. Otherwise, I really need you to keep still.”

She had no idea how difficult a task that was proving to be, but I nodded anyway and forced myself to relax. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, keeping it steady and even, trying to forget the now insistent throb in my pussy.

As I began to finally reach a state of calmness, her voice brought me slamming back to present when she said, “You’re wet.”

My eyes flew open and I looked at her while she stared into my eyes, and then glanced down at my center of arousal. I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. Instead, I lay there, mortified, my face turning fifteen shades of red.

“Do you like the sting of the needle?” she asked, running her finger lightly between my pussy lips. “Is that why you’re so wet?”

I shook my head no, still unable to speak.

“No? You could have fooled me,” she said as she dipped her finger in and pressed lightly on my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned, finding my voice and arching my hips toward her.
She put the tattoo gun down and ran her hands slowly upward, over my stomach, then back down over my thighs. “You have great skin,” she said, pushing my legs apart. Her voice was like liquid silk; I could have listened to it all day. I gladly let her spread my legs. “That’s it, let me open you up,” she said, using her fingers to part my swollen lips. I thought I was going to come just from watching her touch me, but when she leaned down and let the tip of her tongue glide over my pussy, I thought I was going to pass out.

As I lay there, moaning and panting, I suddenly I wondered if anyone else could hear me. Realizing they probably could, I tried to be quiet, but when she eased two fingers into my cunt, I gasped and moaned even louder.

“Ssshhhh,” she said, coaxing me to be quiet as she continued to trace my clit with her tongue. It felt good, but I wanted to come already. Her touch was so light though, I knew I needed it harder, and more friction. I thrust upward to try to get more, but she said, “If you don’t stop that, I’m going to spank you.”

I looked at her with an amused smile, but honestly I couldn’t tell if she was serious or kidding. I thrust upward once more and she surprised me by giving my pussy a quick, stinging slap.

I was so shocked I didn’t know what to do. I lay there, rigid and teetering on an invisible line between arousal and forfeiture. No, it was too soon to give up, I decided. I wanted to see where she was going to take me.

“Yes, Ma’am”, I answered, hoping that would signal to her that I wanted to continue.

“Good girl,” she said as she continued to play for several glorious minutes, her fingers in my cunt and her tongue on my clit.

“You’re so wet,” she said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that you do like the sting. Perhaps not from the needle, but maybe from something more intimate, like my hand. What do you think? Should we experiment a little?”

I whimpered, not sure which way to go, but she made my mind up for me by giving my pussy a little tap. That didn’t hurt at all. In fact, the pressure of it felt pretty good, if only for a moment. I wanted more and started to thrust upward, but then remembered she didn’t like that, and quickly stopped myself.

“Ah, you’re learning. That’s very good.”

She continued to administer quick slaps, a little harder each time, and with a little more frequency. The more she did it, the more aroused I got, and eventually I didn’t even mind that the slaps were getting harder. Finally I couldn’t control my body anymore, I had to move. I started thrusting my hips gently in time with her hand spanking my pussy, and she let me. At one point she pushed my legs apart, and the effect of her bare hand spanking my open pussy was almost too much to take. Each time her hand came down on me, she hesitated momentarily, keeping her hand there, putting pressure on my clit for a prolonged moment each time. I knew it was only a matter of seconds and I wouldn’t be able to hold off any longer. Finally she bent down and bit my clit gently, pulling it with her teeth, and that was all I could take. I gripped the table, clenched my jaw shut, and came in her mouth as she gave my pussy a few quick slaps while three of her fingers deliciously fucked me.

I finally collapsed against the table, exhausted. After a few moments, I forced my eyes to focus and looked at her with a mixture of relief and surprise.

She winked at me then said, “Welcome back. That was amazing, but I need to finish you off now.”

I gave a short laugh then said, “I think you just did.”

“No, I mean, your tattoo. It isn’t finished yet.”

“Oh, yeah,” I replied, suddenly aware that I wasn’t feeling any pain.

No comments:

Post a Comment