My Tattoo Artist Gets Fired [MF] [Story] [Naughty Fuck] [Oral] [Fingering]

*Oh, fucccck! You idiot!*

I didn’t actually mean to fall asleep on my couch at 2pm on a Saturday, but sometimes that’s just how the shit hits the fan. My tattoo appointment was in 5 minutes.

I grabbed my phone more dramatically than I needed to and pulled up Instagram to message my tattoo artist. He probably wouldn’t see it right away but I figured it was better than nothing. His name was Jared, but everyone called him ‘Jare’.

This was my fourth tattoo with him, and I admittedly had a bit of a crush… . Not only did he do incredible work, but he was really fucking funny. And hot. He was really hot. Every time we saw each other, the sexual tension just seemed a little bit more…tense.

Earlier I had thought of putting on some makeup and doing my hair some sort of cute pig-tail way but it looked like I was just going to have to bolt. I had some striped, cotton lounge shorts on- They were definitely too short and pajama-like to wear out normally but I was just walking there and then immediately home, so I honestly didn’t care. I threw on a crewneck, some cute skate socks, and crocs. I was going for ‘hot mess’. Jared wouldn’t give a fuck, and I was comfy as hell. Win-win.

I got there 15 minutes later, and he was right at the front.

“Hey, how’s it going!” He said with a smile.

“Hey, good, sorry I’m late!” I smiled back. “I messaged you on Instagram but I should have just called, I–”

“Oh it’s fine!” He interrupted, “I have been looking forward to our appointment, though, so I was worried for a second.”

I leaned in towards him a little bit. “I mayyyy have woken up like 10 minutes ago and ran here”.

We laughed.

He smiled, “follow me!” He started walking to a seat near the back of the studio. He was wearing a cute light blue hoodie, which he lifted up over his buzz cut. I felt so stoked that this guy was about to touch me. Not touch touch, just in a professional, tattoo-artist touching your skin-type of way. It was always a little nice, and I was obviously touch deprived. He was clean shaven and had a septum piercing that looked so good on him.

It had been a shitty, chaste year. 1 year since the break-up, 1 year since having ANY body parts inside me. All the guys I’d been meeting lately were absolute losers. I knew exactly how they would fuck, and I wasn’t interested in that show. I also am in possession of a vibrating dildo at home in my bedside table, so honestly why would I bother with the real deal.

He sat down on his wheelie chair, and I started to lie down on the adjustable tattoo chair. He had my design printed on tattoo paper, and rolled towards me to show it to me again.

“Ok, how is this looking, size and everything ok?” He asked.

We had planned it out over Instagram and a brief phone call. Since he’d shown me sketches already, I had a pretty good idea of what it was going to look like but it looked even better than I’d hoped!

“Oh my god!? It’s literally perfect!”

He smiled and did a sort of dorky cheering movement with his whole body and laughed.

“Also sorry I’m literally wearing my pajamas,” I said, feeling a bit cheeky about it now that I was here.

“No pajamas No service’ here I’m afraid, so you’re OK.” He looked at me, and looked away, and for a second I thought he almost seemed nervous.

*Please have a crush on me. Please.*

I smiled and settled into the chair. He got supplies out to put the stencil right above my knee, where we planned.

“So how’s work slash how’s life been!” He asked as he put on his gloves.

I worked at a coffee shop at the moment and I didn’t really want to be there.

“Gosh, um.. Good days and bad days that’s for sure..” I started.

I started telling him the story of how an older man on an electric scooter crashed into our door the other day. I studied his face as he multitasked. My skin stung a bit where he had wiped the antiseptic. He was gently rubbing the stencil transfer gel onto me with his other hand around my knee bracing my leg. He glanced up at me every once and a while as I talked. “And then we all felt kinda bad so we gave him a free coffee..” I stared at his freckles and noted how perfect his skin was. I felt stupid for a moment when I thought about how many other people he tattoos probably looking at him too. We made eye contact again briefly and he quickly looked away.

“Well I wish crazy shit like that happened around here sometimes!” He took the stencil and placed it down onto my skin slowly and carefully, then gently rubbed on top in small circles to ensure all the stencil gel soaked in. He shifted his body a bit and brought his left hand over my thigh as his right hand started to peel the stencil off. “This shit’s fucking boring!” He joked.

I took him in again. He was so fucking cute. The second the stencil was off, he leaned over my knee a bit to get a better look, then locked eyes with me.

‘There we go!’ He smiled.

I sat up to look. “I am so ready!” I said.

He started prepping the gun and I got some normal pre-tattoo butterflies. And a few other butterflies as I looked at him again.

*OK, he can probably tell you’re looking at him much more than you need to. Stop it.*

I leaned my head back and tried to get comfortable. His shoulder bumped into my foot somehow and he grabbed it and gave it a little squeeze.

‘Sorry!’ He said.

‘Cute socks also.’ He added.

My head stayed back and I smiled.

‘Have you been busy lately?’ I asked.

It was small-talk but for some reason I didn’t mind at all with him. He also seemed to enjoy the chit-chat, so I indulged.

We talked on and off comfortably while he worked. Every so often he checked in on the pain, and I checked in on him and asked if he needed a break. It felt a little silly but I could tell he liked it. Everywhere he put his hands on my body seemed to feel a little more warm. Like a gentle sort of electricity running through his hands into me. He had big hands, too, that felt like they wrapped around my whole leg when he steadied me.

It started pouring rain outside and the sudden darkness made it feel late. It was a quaint, small, older studio that had had some renovations recently, the windows were sort of tinted, there was some old brick near the front that I liked. There was another tattoo artist, or maybe the shop owner sitting at the front on the computer, but other than that, we were the only ones there.

Suddenly I could feel this person’s eyes on us. They waited for Jared to pull up off a line, then interrupted.

‘Hey Jare, sorry to bug you’, they started walking closer.

‘No problem, what’s up!’ he asked.

‘If you’re cool with it, I might head home early and leave you the keys to lock up tonight. I think I’m coming down with something,’ they held their hand to their stomach.

‘Shit man, yeah feel better!’ He said.

‘Please text or call me if you need anything. Fingers crossed I’m not dying.’ They added with a wince as they turned to grab their bag from the back.

It was my turn to interrupt.

‘Hey,” I leaned up. “Could we swing a bathroom break right now, is that cool?’

“Of course, yeah” He said and leaned back.

I got up carefully and edged my way off the chair. Jared didn’t really move out of the way as he fiddled with the gun, so my whole left side brushed his as I left my seat.**I got back from the bathroom and Jared was up at the front plugging his phone into the studio’s soundsystem.

‘What do you want to listen to?’ He smirked. “We’ve got the place to ourselves!”

I smiled. “Surprise me, duh.” I said as I got back into the chair.

Our time together was starting to almost feel like a date. I was sure that he was into me, too. Just the way he would look at me, the way his hands would linger sometimes when he was touching me. He was being professional, still, of course. It was just those in-between moments where it felt like each of us was noticing the other. We were looking for things to notice, too. We were enjoying the space we were sharing.

He went over a sensitive spot right close to my knee and I jolted a bit and winced.

‘Ah, I got ya. You ok?’ He asked.

I scrunched my nose and nodded. He then lifted up my knee an inch and put his left hand under me, still stretching my skin with his thumb. He was sort of hugging my leg from underneath, which I thought was a bit unusual and felt kind of intimate. He seemed a bit nervous again somehow, and I teased him.

“You look like you could use a gatorade. A coffee? What do you need?” I asked.

His smiled big and kept working. There was a soft silence and I closed my eyes.

“We’re on the final stretch, babe! Maybe 30 minutes to go?” He said in almost a whisper.

*Fuck, why was that hot..?*

I felt his fingers under my knee start to move. It felt like he was moving them to caress me, not to adjust his hand.

I kept my eyes closed and just fell into my body. Despite the dull throb of the fresh tattoo, I felt so fucking good. Jare’s arm was trailing my shin, his left hand all across my thigh. I started thinking about how good it would feel to fuck him.

I let out the softest moan.

*Fuck.*

I kept my eyes closed but my heart started racing. There was no way to tell if he actually heard that over the hum of the tattoo gun. It was also starting to feel a bit warm in the studio and I started to peel off my crewneck. I hugged my sweater to my chest and opened my eyes a bit. Jare looked flush- maybe he had heard me moan!?

I swallowed. I opened my eyes and he was looking right at me. My stomach lurched as I held eye contact, not knowing what else to do. We were both buzzing with energy, unmoving.

Then Jare looked away and started to laugh nervously. I smiled, still frozen. There was definitely something happening, though. I just didn’t know what exactly.

“Um..I..I don’t..–” He started.He rolled his chair a little closer to me and started leaning his face into mine. I met his lips with urgency, and he pulled back gently, his eyes drunk.

“I don’t..I’ve never done this sort of thing before..” He started, clearly a little bit insecure of the situation as he was usually very professional.

I slurred back, “No, I mean, I’ve never…uh, either..but like..I’m…like…down..” I didn’t know how to speak. My pussy was throbbing with his face so close to mine, the tattoo gun still humming in his right hand. He turned off the machine and took off his gloves.

He laughed again and put his left hand behind my head and pulled me back into his face. We quickly got sloppy. His right hand ran down my neck and down over my top, circling my nipple.

I could have sworn I was soaking through my panties. His hands now under my shirt, pushing my bralette up over my boobs. His tongue was on my nipples, then he was licking my inner thigh. His one hand edged closer to my pussy. Without even slipping my cotton shorts off, he just wrapped his finger around my thong and pulled it aside. Holding it to the side, he looked right in my eyes as he started to finger me.

My jaw dropped and my entire body violently lurched back as pleasure surged through me. I started laughing a little bit and gave him a ‘are you seriously doing this?!’ sort of look.

At this point he was still sitting on his chair, leaning up and forward as he fingered me. Breathless, I tugged at his shirt to pull him up to standing. My eyes met his massive bulge and I smiled up at him as I started to touch him gently over his shorts. He was reeeeally fucking hard. I slid them down ever so slowly, taking all of him in. I helped the last of his cock out with my mouth and started to tease him.

He moaned. I moaned. I took his whole cock in my mouth, wanting to give him as much pleasure as possible.

‘Oh wow, fuck’ He said under his breath. He started gently rubbing my soaked clit with his thumb, and I started moaning on his cock. I don’t think I was going to last another minute.

Just then, the bells from the front door chimed. Jare immediately whipped his shorts back up and sat down on his chair, rolling over to grab a pair of gloves and fiddle with the gun. In the same breath I pulled my shirt down and laid my head back on my seat.

“Hey, sorry, it’s me again.” Jare’s coworker called out from the front as he grabbed a bag he’d left by the front desk.

Jare looked back and gave him a nod. “Oh hey,” he said.

We were still trying to breath normally as the bells chimed again and he left the studio.

There was a long pause, and Jare put down the gun and pulled his shirt up over his face and groaned.

“Oh my goddddd” he started, laughing. I couldn’t help but join in.

“I literally had a heart attack. Literally.” He laid his forehead down on my upper thigh. “Fuck, haha that was so hot!” He muffled into me.

I put my hand on his head and kept laughing.

“Oh my god.” I stopped suddenly. “Does this studio have any cameras in here?’

Jare looked around and sure enough, hidden at the back corner was a camera.

He looked pale.

“You won’t get in trouble for this, will you?” I said, hoping I wasn’t making this worse while desperately still wanting to fuck later.

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He was leaning on me again and looked genuinely frazzled.

“I also..kind of..don’t regret it.” He said slowly and looked up at me.

I smiled. He smiled.

“Wanna come back to my place?” I asked, biting my lip.

“We can touch this up next month, yeah?” He suggested.

“Yeah.” I said.

**

*Jare ended up getting fired a few months later for his unprofessional fingering and my professional blowjob. But he actually ended up opening his own studio a few years later. We stayed friends and he gave me many more tattoos, often at his place, where the sex was somehow even better than that naughty 10 minutes at his old studio, which we both remember quite fondly.*

****I kind of want to do a Jare sequel…suggestions pls! :)*

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/yofh74/my_tattoo_artist_gets_fired_mf_story_naughty_fuck