Religious Forearm Tattoos For Guys Novels & Stories

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.

Watching. He was practicing with a sword. Not a real one—a wooden training blade. But he swung it like it weighed nothing, like it was an extension of his own arm. His muscles rippled with every movement. His back was broad, his shoulders were wide, his waist was narrow. Tattoos covered his left shoulder—dark ink, intricate patterns, something tribal and ancient that I wanted to trace with my tongue. I had never seen him without his uniform I had imagined it. Late at night, with my hand between my legs. I had pictured his chest, his arms, his stomach. But the reality was so much better than anything my imagination had conjured.

I also noticed his tattoos stretching from his wrist to his neck to his other wrist. It reminded me of Ace and how his sleeve stops near his shoulder where as this guy had both arms covered. "Do you like my tattoos?" he pulled up his sleeve, showing me more of the tattoos. "Yeah, they're cool" I commented, not trying to come off as flirty.

But he was still anticipating seeing what would be his next move. Carson just placed his hand right over the blanket covering his hard rock dick. He had his one leg was stretched straight and other was bent inside... He was looking no less than a sexy model. Displaying his tattoos. Only Carson among the three had tattoos on his body. His arm had a black band; his right leg had an ANCHOR right above his ankle and not to forget the DEVIL TRYING TO CATCH HIS NIPPLE. Well it was a devil printed on his chest above his left nipple extending his hand as in to grab his nipple.

Oh, did I mention he was only wearing his boxers? His upper torso was on full display as he turned over strips of bacon and eggs. He had a howling wolf head tattooed on his chest, right over his heart with the text “Wolf Riders” written under it. His entire right arm was covered in an intricate pattern of tribal black tattoos as well as part of his chest and shoulder. There was a weeping angel stretched between his shoulder blades and across his neck was his name. All of which moved with him like a living art piece, making me even more aware of every rippling muscle and hard plate this god-like man had. His toned stomach and wide chest. I was a bit surprised when I saw he didn’t have a six-p

He spent hours defining that slender and athletic torso. I continued my visual inspection and fell and in that wonderful "V" that well-built men have when they train, on the left side of that part of his body there was a beautiful tattoo that covered much of the side and was lost in his back. His arms were defined, wiry and muscular, on his right forearm he had another tattoo, I couldn't tell it was written but he looked like a slow death. When he was closer I saw that he was carrying a flannel in his hand and a bag in the other, this time I couldn't see his eyes, since they were covered by super posh sunglasses that made him look even more sexy and striking, when It was close enough, I yell

The sight of injustice always struck something raw in me. “I don’t care if you’ve got tattoos covering every inch of your body or piercings hanging from your face like Christmas ornaments, it doesn’t give you the right to act like a goddamn beast,” I spat at the guy ready to pounce on him but Rob drew me back asking me to knock it off. I was too adamant to heed what Rob was asking of me. I squared my shoulders and stepped toward the guy leaning on Roberto’s car. His jacket hung open, revealing inked sleeves, coiling dragons and skulls in black ink that crawled all the way to his neck.

I loved that he didn’t shave or wax all the way… it seemed more manly to me, plus it was soft to the touch and I couldn’t wait to feel more. He had tattoos, but he wasn’t tatted out like I had expected from a biker. He had the Dogs of Fire logo on his inner forearm, and that same arm was sleeved up to his shoulder. The other arm was also sleeved, but ended at the elbow. Down his left side and slightly across his ribs was a black and white tattoo of the lily flower with the word “Lily” interwoven in the design.

Mark was slightly taller than I and was a hundred and ninety pounds of rock solid muscle, his shoulders were wide and his waist narrow, he was not muscle bound, but there was not a damn thing on him that was not exactly where it should be including a set of abs that would make a twenty year old jealous. Mark, like me in a sleeveless shirt caught a bit of attention. Both of his arms shoulder to elbow were covered in enormous tattoo's, on the right was Pan the Celtic devil; horns, hooves and red eyes glaring, on the left was an incredibly detailed image of the Pale rider of revelations fame. With his build, the tats and his five o clock shadow Mark was flaunting the "Bad Boy" look and carried