Calligraphy 1999 Tattoo Font Novels & Stories

My orgasm rips through my soul as flashes of light dance behind my eyelids. "Look at me, Erica. Open your eyes and watch." At his command, I open my eyes in time to watch as Callan reaches behind his neck, tugging his shirt off over his head, revealing the tattoo I've seen peeking through the collar of his dress shirts on several occasions. His tattoo is of two black and grey. The design is intricate and spans his whole right shoulder and over his peck. If I had to guess, I'd say the tattoo is a representation of his last name. My eyes travel south to where he is lowering the zipper of his jeans and pulling them down just enough for his length to spring free. I look on, hypnotized at the way

The Sect Master’s body trembled as she was shocked. She could not help but take a deep breath; her face still looked in shock. She was totally stunned. Darryl’s calligraphy looked spiritual and lively; the clouds and water looked almost alive. Each word was perfect and flawless. Its spirit was amazing. Compared to Darryl’s, Master Cecil’s calligraphy looked like a child’s writing. It was on a completely different level.

he asked with a light laugh which sounded so sexy. I scolded myself for acting like a school girl in front of her crush. Everything about my ex could make your mouth water. Though I didn't need to feel embarrassed admiring his body because we were a couple, I couldn't help it. Any woman could easily go gaga over him and do sinful things for this man. I couldn't blame Lolla at all. With a bikini-wrecking smile, he raised his right arm and placed his hand at the back of his head so I could see his tattoo clearly. My eyes widened. His tattoo was my name in Kanji characters. Below, the translation of each character was written in English alphabets.

She heard nothing but her breathing, feeling the needle methodically pierce the inches that should have filled in the 39 tattoos on her back. The 16-year-old had a really concentrated crease as she sat so close to Karila, contemplating the bare back of the princess who said nothing, her attitudes were respectful, from the moment she put gloves on her hands and wrapped the thin support of crystal that was attached to a fine needle. Nothing like tiny and noisy machines full of modernity, the practical handpoked she was old and came from ancient Egyptian influences of Pharaonic eras, starting to influence other cultures to follow ancient and slow methods. The fact was that it took longer, while

In black, grey and blue ink, beautiful, intricate patterns of floral and wing designs mar my skin, but at its centre, Zefiro name sits majestically in stunning calligraphy. The bastard tattooed his name into my skin.

I carry my face from his chest slowly and carefully, not to wake him up I roll over and lie on my side. I admire his sinful beauty, if I can just touch it once more. That's right I can touch it, after all he's sleeping. I flatten my palm on his chest and feel each rhythmic movement his chest makes when he breathes. I outline his body with my hands, over the six divisions on his belly to the tattoo on his chest. I remember when he got that, I came back tired from the classes I had and he came into my house grinning like he just won a lottery. He made me close my eyes, trust me I still cheated, opening my eyes slightly to try to take peaks of whatever surprise he was bringing up. When I opened

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Along with them are the New School and Watercolor which I think has something in common, they just look a little bit alike but you'll see the difference if you'll look at it closely. There's Flowers, Letterings such as calligraphy, Trash Folks which consist of almost every element but using only a black and red ink that made it more bold and dark. But the design that really had my attention was the Biomechanical tattoo, the details are so fine that if you won't take a good look at it, you might think it's a real tool attached to the skin. So amazing. "You wanna have your skin inked?"

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

That would be too plain. He carved a single, elaborate, Gothic ‘L’. The stylus moved with the confidence of a master calligrapher, adding serifs, flourishes, and a subtle curve that turned the letter into a barbed hook. It was beautiful and cruel. As he carved, he spoke, his voice a low, hypnotic chant.