Your Stuck On Me Like A Tattoo Novels & Stories

“And don’t forget to call me as soon as you can. I’ll be waiting to hear from you." I nod, a lump forming in my throat. “I will Jenna, I promise." I give her another hug, then I grab my bag and hurry out to my car. I load my bag into the driver’s seat of my old Honda Civic and slide into the driver’s seat. As I turn the key in the ignition, the engine sputters and creaks as it always does. “Come on Betty, don’t give out on me now," I plead as I turn the key again.

I tie the knot so tightly until I confirm to myself that he won't be able to rip it off. Alright. It's time to wake the tattooed mummy up.

engraved in tiny cursive writing. Tee gave me the same tattoo and I loved it, mine has "sugar +" so it completes her own. I was ten at the time, I felt invisible after barely crying from the needle in my skin as I got the tattoo. My second tattoo was also with Tee, this time we went to a tattoo parlour. I was fifteen, this time I had permission from Dad. I told him I wanted something meaningful to honor my late best friend and he agreed. Only I knew she was alive and the tattoos were meaningful, still are.

I saw him holding two thin sticks and batting against the black drums arranged according to some order and I wondered why the stick didn't break with the force he was striking it against the drums. And I was pulled towards him like a magnet while my eyes caught the tattoo on his back. It's not a huge one but different sizes of circles starting from his upper neck to his lower back. I went near him and my fingers automatically started to trace the tattoos from his upper neck. As I was tracing the tattoo way to his lower back, in the blink of an eye, he turned and pulled me towards him. He made me sit on his lap as he was sitting on the black stool and I became caged between the drums and his

The tattooist reached over and wiped away traces of blood that still oozed from her skin. "I love it!" said Jean as stepped off of the barber chair. The modesty towel fell away in her haste, and she she stood viewing her body in the full length mirror wearing only her panties. She'd really only intended to get a small tattoo on the back of her shoulder, but this seemed much bolder and more defiant. Like it or not, it was hers now, and only hers, forever. Tempted to touch it, she reached her fingers to her chest, only to be stopped by the 'tut-tutting' of the tattoo artist. Jean glanced at him watching her in the mirror. Was it too soon? She'd just had a bad breakup from a long relationship a

“You’re not going anywhere. Not from me. Not from him. We have to talk about the bond we share.” The weight of it crashed down on him. He had planned to have a threesome and probably bail again, continuing the chase, seeing how far they both would go to claim him as theirs. But the bond… the bond had taken root. He looked down at his body, at the flickering tattoo glowing a beautiful gold against his skin before disappearing again. He glanced back at them, then down at his arm. He could tell which pattern belonged to Dante and which one belonged to Maya just by how they thrummed against his skin, alive and undeniable. “You can’t—”

I was now home in my room and the image of the bastard’s arm wouldn’t leave my mind. His tattoos looked so familiar, they looked too familiar. I was now leaving foot prints in my carpet as I paced, the image of his tattoos kept plaguing me. They did look sexy on him and the urge to trace them with my tongue arose in me. Banishing the thought from my head I continued pacing, there wasn’t time to think about how sexy it was on him or how I wanted to run my tongue along him. I needed to figure out why they seemed so familiar, I hadn’t even known that he had tattoos.

"I don't know, just couldn't help it." A lazy smile appears on his kissable lips. "I like when you're impulsive." He takes our clasped hands and slides them under his shirt. To the place on his ribs his tattoo lies. Though the ink is a part of his skin, I can feel it like it's raised. A scar. "You still have yours?" "Yeah, I do," I say. Rex and I breathe together. We are synced. If I don't get out of here fast, I really will crawl in there with him.

I smeared everything we had already done—pussy cum, his cum, the slick mess from my ass—across his mouth and rode him like that, shameless, grinding down while he shoved his tongue into my pussy and licked me as if he had been starving for it. “You felt so perfect,” I whispered. I was still moving on his mouth when my eyes caught the back of his hand in the low light. The tattoo was black and detailed, a spider crawling across his knuckles. The same one I had seen in the club when the gun went off. The same one I had told myself I would never forget. I froze.

Just as he is about to turn from me, I ask what I must. “That tattoo” I start, making him halt and take a quick glance at his chest. “It wasn't there before” I add. “Mhm, it wasn't” He says, flicking his gaze back at me. “I got it after… you know” he sighs, “I had to do something to feel like you're still with me” “Do you feel stupid?” I ask, not knowing why I even ask that. “Should I? Is it too tacky?” He asks.