Free Blurred Lines by Scott Hildreth

to want to tweak her nipples into their correct locations.
    “Hi, I’m Candee, but my friends call me Diamond. I’m a friend of Sandy’s. She said I should ask for Blake, are you Blake?” she asked.
    Sandy was a single mother who had come in early in the previous winter, wanting a complete back piece done. If I was giving a quote for the tattoo she had requested, it would have been the upside of $2,000, but she negotiated getting it free of charge.
    I nodded my head. “Sure am. What can I do for you?”
    “Well…” she said.
    Roughly thirty blowjobs, a dozen or so good solid fuckings, and an afternoon of fucking Tyler and me simultaneously, she paid for her tattoo, and the three of us were pleased with everything. Since completing the tattoo, I hadn’t seen her, but that was typical for the women who chose to trade sex for tattoos. It seemed after it was all over, most of them felt like nothing but a whore, and were embarrassed about what they had chosen to do.
    I wondered how many of them regretted it later, as I would expect every time they looked at the tattoo, it would act as a reminder of their willingness to trade their bodies for sex.
    ”I was thinking about getting a back piece. Like almost exactly like Sandy’s,” she said as he twisted her hips from side to side.
    “Oh really?” I asked.
    “Yeah, but maybe like a big dragon instead of the peacock she got. But the same size and everything,” she said.
    “I see. It’d be a pretty intricate piece. It could be free-handed, and I could start on it today, or I could draw something up and see what you thought about it, maybe make an appointment for this weekend. Turn around and let me see the width of your back,” I said.
    She turned around, hooked her thumbs in the pockets of her shorts, and bent slightly at the waist. There was no doubt she was attractive, and in her altered state she was built for one thing and one thing only: fucking. My interest, however, remained solely with Riley. After a quick study of her back, I asked her to turn around.
    “You have any scars, birthmarks, or imperfections on your back?” I asked.
    She turned her head, peered over her shoulder toward the window. After feeling satisfied no one was passing by, she reached down and pulled off her shirt in one quick yank. Her two cantaloupe sized tits held firm and high on her size two frame. Her nipples looked much worse in the flesh than they did hidden by the thin fabric of her shirt.
    “I don’t know, you tell me,” she said as she slowly turned around.
    “You wanting to suck a little cock and maybe give up that little pussy for this tat?” I asked flatly.
    She peered over her shoulder. “I’d like to.”
    “Tyler,” I hollered, “This one’s for you.”
    As he hurried toward the front of the shop, I turned away and got my cigarettes. Instead of walking past them again and being forced to see her dumb naked self again, I walked out the back door, sat down on my motorcycle, and lit a cigarette.
    Halfway through the cigarette, I took my phone from my front pocket, scrolled to Riley’s number, and typed a simple text.
    Thinking of you
    After reading and rereading it a few times, I decided it was perfect.
    I pressed send, grinned at the thought of her reading it, and wondered what would go through her mind when she did. It was actually the first text message I had sent her, and my first step toward anything with her that was beyond total professionalism. As I pushed the phone into my pocket, it beeped.
    I bit the butt of the cigarette in my teeth, pulled the phone from my pocket and opened the text message.
    I’ve never stopped
    Reading the text caused me to smile from ear to ear. The thought of her thinking of me provided me with an odd sense of satisfaction that everything I was feeling wasn’t all for not. As I pursed my lips around the cigarette and inhaled a long drag, I pressed the buttons on the screen.
    Coffee?
    I pressed send, flicked the cigarette butt into