Subtle Bi Tattoos Novels & Stories

I placed my hands on his chest to steady myself, bouncing slightly on his thighs, stifling a small moan when I felt his shaft harden behind my ass crack. “What about this one?” I leaned forward, squinting at a tattoo I hadn’t noticed before. It looked like a bird… or a dead bird, etched under his bicep. The ink was rough and fuzzy, like it had been done in a rush… no like it was done by a toddler. Adrian glanced at it, then quickly looked away. I didn’t miss the slight expression that flashed across his face. “It’s nothing,” he responded too fast. I leaned closer, mouthing the words written beneath it.

They rippled slightly as the tattoo gun continued it's work. Deft gloved hands drew and colored the skin. A quick swipe removed excess ink. Heavily tattooed arms moved with each stroke, the artwork colorful and bright with splotches of pinks, blues, purples, and greens. She marveled at those arms, strong, tight, and remarkably hairless. The artist wore a black sleeveless shirt, cut to resemble a tank top with wide cut underarms. A faded yellow batman logo was printed on the front. The artist wore tight blue jeans, revealing wide hips and a round ass. Grey boxes poked out of the back as she hunched over her work.

Her face was relaxed and she looked serene, the soft glow of the lamp on her bedside cast on her face like a filter. Fuck... She is beautiful. With how she was positioned on the bed, her shirt had slipped down a bit, revealing a bit of cleavage and I sighted the tattoo. The memory of her in that tattoo palour flashed through my head for a split second, I also caught a glimpse of the tattoo on the beach party day. But now, I could see it more clearly, it was a small wing and right below it, the word 'libre' was written in cursive.

I try to get to his shirt buttons, but he’s bent over too far. “Please, Seb.” I keep my voice quiet, but I keep pulling at the shirt. “Can I see them?” He lifts his head. “See what?” He pinches my nipple, and I gasp. “Tattoos. I wanna see your tattoos.” But I don’t wait for him to reply, because now that he’s sitting up, I’m already undoing his shirt. Each button reveals another strip of skin, another strip of hard muscles, and black ink. Another button and a skull stare up at me from Seb’s rising and falling chest. Another button and his defined stomach is revealed.

“I will tell you everything while I help you bathe.” Once I am inside the bathtub, he picks up a sponge to help me wash my back. He places it on my right shoulder. Then he removes it. “I am pretty sure you didn’t have this tattoo before. When did you get it?” he asks. Instinctively, I turn my head to look at my back. While I can’t see it, I know what Caleb is talking about—the contour of a water lily on the middle of my back, a moon rising above it, and two stars on either side of it.

On the left side of his back, I saw a compass tattoo. But what piqued my curiosity the most was a lone tattoo at the left bottom of his back. There were two hands. One was big and bulky, indicating that it was of man's. The other was slim and slightly smaller in size, indicating that it was of a woman's. Both hands were at a little distance away from each other and were connected through the chains. They were facing away from each other as if trying to oppose the chains. Beneath the tattoo, I noticed some lettering.

The suit's fabric embraced his form with precision, sculpting his frame in a way that conveyed strength and elegance in equal measure. The darkness of his attire was punctuated by a bold statement: a deep red shirt that accentuated his confidence. The top buttons of the shirt remained undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his tattooed chest. The inked patterns danced across his skin, a testament to a hidden side of him that few were privy to witness. The intricate designs told stories of his past, a tapestry of experiences woven into the very fabric of his being.

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.

“Right there. Your name and music notes on either side. Maybe some little butterflies.” “Are you serious, Reb? That’s permanent, you know.” “I know. You don’t want me to?” She traced a tattoo on his forearm with one finger. It showed a dagger through a skull. It was a beautiful piece of art, but masculine. “Would you rather I get one that matches yours?” “I would love my name permanently etched on your sexy little back. I could stare at it while…” He lifted her shirt and took a peek at the area in question. “Damn…” he said breathlessly and gave himself a little shake. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

Gianna gazed down at her wrist, looking at the small tattoo she got in her teenage years. It was a dandelion, some of the seeds scattered as if blown by the wind, forming a small musical note. Nothing about the drawing was unique, as surely, a lot of women already had the same tattoo as hers now. She had been thinking about erasing it many times over but decided not to. The black ink looked good in her milky skin, but she would rather it stayed hidden.