Brazo Frases Para Tatuajes Hombres Novels & Stories

He thought again, "sinuous, dangerous and supremely sexual." One tattoo in particular was prominent and drew the eye; it was a bright red "slut stamp" very low on her lower back that was repeated low on her belly, just above the pubic mound. It said, in both locations, "Candy Slut to Paulo Zero." The words of the tattoo were in a pre-Columbian language that Barnes would never have a hint of. In addition, like a Bay area poster from the psychedelic era the tat's lettering was very stylized, even if it was in English it would be near impossible to read. Some English word fragments were visible in the edging and lines of the distorted shapes. Incorporated into the tat were sexual images and tri

He was the stranger from last night. He was wearing only a pair of loose pants that hung too loosely on his waist. My eyes shamelessly roamed his bare torso, that resembled the work of a very gifted artist. The man before me was totally shredded. From his abs, to his chest and biceps. His right arm was totally covered in tattoo ink, all the way from his wrist to some part of his neck.

I shake my head at him and look away. He's sitting with his knees pulled up and his arms draped lazily over them, giving me a view of his arm and hand tattoos. He has 'love' and 'pain' tattooed across his knuckles; on his right hand, he has a rose, and on the left, he has a skull. My eyes follow up his arms looking at the artwork on them for a second before I rip them away and return my glare to him.

and still iam staring at the tattoo he asked "do you wanna touch it" I looked into his eyes there is no anger he is smiling last night he is the one who said iam a slave and I don't have any right to touch him now he is asking me to touch huh dangerous boys he taken my hand and kept on his tattoo I asked slowly "did it pained" he chuckled and said "no" what ansh said it's very painful I said "ansh said it's very painful" he replied "for others it might be painful not for me" I asked "why" he said "it depends on the reason for tattoo"

We keep each other safe. I touch the scars on his arms and count them. Like the stripes of a tiger, they go all the way up to his shoulders on both arms. Some are deeper than others. They are like braille on his skin. Even a blind man could tell there is a story of pain that burns upon his epidermis. I touch his scars and feel them on his shoulders. These scars are everywhere on his body. Even his mid-section probably has scars everywhere. He has marked himself for life with these man-made scar tattoos.

He looked at me as though I was faking my feelings. “Are you done with your drama? Or whatever the fuck that is?” he smirked, “you’ve ruined the fun” he retorted, standing up straight and pulling both his sleeve higher up his arm, his arms were covered with tattoos, these are new? The last time I saw Mateo he had just one, his mother’s name on his left shoulder. Every pattern of his tattoos was unique, there was a phoenix on his left arm, but it was bathed in blood, what could be the story behind that I wondered.

The only word that came to mind was drool worthy. My eyes were drawn to the tattoos that littered his body. The ones that lined his chest and ribs caught my attention and I badly wanted to know what they were. My fingers twitched at my sides wanting to go over there and run them across the tattoos. He threw his shirt off to the side and turned fully towards me. I couldn't stop myself from asking. "What are your tattoos of?" "Oh these." He glanced down at the ones on his chest. "This one," He pointed to the symbol on his left peck. "is the Marine's symbol. And this says 'Move mountains or die trying'." He touched the quote that was on his ribs.

They looked fucking delicious. He wasn't affected by my staring as he went on to remove his pants, leaving him in shorts. Did he plan to train me when he got dressed this morning? Hell, did he think we could get any training done when he was looking like that? He had a full sleeve tattoo on his right hand that I was sure extended to his chest; a snake tattoo. And on his left arm were different small tattoos, most of which were writings. "I said training, tesoro." Alessandro's voice made my eyes snap up to his. "I didn't say you should gawk."

I hand over his phone. He takes it and climbs out of the bed without a care that he's naked in broad daylight. His round ass and muscles flake when he walks to the window to answer the phone. A sudden heat pools in my aching core by looking at his naked glory. He's perfect, carves out of the ancient Greek scriptures. I plop on my elbow and take the time to admire his tattoos. Why these mafia men always have an obsession for inks? My eyes skims over the big lion's head covering most of his upper back and a serpent spitting fire. Something is written in Latin or Greek, I don't know as I'm only acquainted with English, my mother tongue.

"It's incomplete. Look at the whole thing, it'll make sense then." He bought up his other hand and I noticed a single word tattooed in the same font on his other wrist. My heart stopped. 'Dolore' I already knew what that word meant; Pain He placed both his wrists together so that the tattoo formed a single sentence; 'Ho ottenuto ciò che ho dato dolore.' "I got what I gave; pain"