- 1 Gengetsu [ 2009/09/04(Fri) 07:55 ID:Os7IsM8I ]
- The needle pierced through her skin. She wiggled. Something was growing in his jeans, his groin. This was just the first ink of her tatoo. Another girl was waiting for him in room 1113 and he knew that. But tatooing...or say art, is something an artist should never procrastinate.
It was 9:30 p.m. He was tired, longing for the body of a woman. But the picture is a naked tarantula which bore a rose. The girl was already weeping, but out of pain or grief he couldn't tell.
He had seen too many girls came with lost love. He didn't know if she's one of them. Not so long ago a girlfriend he had had let another man mounted her. He pictured the man lying on her back, like what he is completing right now, with his customer.He was panting, in cold light and the pungency of Isopropyl alcohol.
His customer fell asleep after running out of tears, shrugging her shoulder occasionally when ink is injected. It has been 2 hours. Has the girl been waiting in room 1113? Did she leave? She said she won't wait. But that being a lie or not he couldn't tell either. Lover sometime promises and they leave; stranger lies but sometime stay.
The rose was blooming. People got some strange tatoos for themsleves thesedays. Some are graceful, some are tacky. A tarantula with no hair? What was that supposed to mean? It's unusual. The funny look reminds him of a persian cat which has all its long hair trimmed off. The cat was made nothing like its own kind by a man out of his love. In fact the humiliated cat looked like a rat. He was almost certain that this girl was a lesbian. He has seen some gruesome tatoo on lesbians.
'How much longer is it going to take?' the girl under him implored. Her sore. He was sweating, console her as if they are having sex, he said 'It won't be long'.
- 2 Gengetsu [ 2009/09/04(Fri) 08:04 ID:Os7IsM8I ]
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