I can honestly say I love my job. Not just the fact that at this moment I am looking at a woman's completely bare sex. Though I admit this is one of the high points. I am putting a tattoo on her pelvis. This is completely work related. No fun, well a little fun to see her naked lips right below my hands. I wonder what it would be like just to run my fingers down ......ok cut it out. Enough distraction, back to work.
I roll my neck and shoulders to relieve the tension. We're an hour and a half in, that's only about half way. Back to my point, I love my job. One of the things I love the most is no matter what is going on in my life I can completely push it aside. It takes a lot of concentration to do this work. What I put on can never be removed. I have to see the image as a matter of lines, completing a complex scene. Have to know what lines to do next. Staying five or so steps ahead in my mind. No place for errors.
So my mind doesn't have time to worry about the strain in my relationship with Kayla. She called the day after the blow job incident. After plenty of tears and apologies, on her part. I agreed to have dinner with her so we could talk about our relationship. Our schedules don't match up until tomorrow. It has been two days since we talked.
The more time I have to reflect on things the less I think I want to pursue a future with her. I try to deny that the strange woman I slept with has anything to do with it. I haven't seen her since she showed up at my place and fucked me senseless that night. I don't know much more than her name anyway and how good she tasted.
I need to get myself in check so I suggest taking a break. She gladly says she needs a cigarette. I take a piss, get a drink and go back to the room. I am looking at a rough sketch of what she asked for. She requested something seductive. Wanted an image that would drive a man wild when he saw it. Who better to create such a thing? A sex starved man. I am thinking of a few minor changes I would like to do when she comes back in. Hiking her skirt up she positions herself in front of me. I describe the changes I want to make.
"By all means. I trust you." She says with a smile.
Why wouldn't she, I have done two of her other tats. I turn the movie back on and with renewed focus, dive back in. I get the bulk of the work done, she'll only need to come back for some color and touch up in a few weeks. Out on the main floor she gives me a kiss on the cheek and tells me how pleased she is with the results. I am too.
"Thanks. Jared is going to die when he sees this."
"He is a lucky man." I offer.
She tips me generously and leaves. Flexing my shoulders, trying to relieve the tension I walk over to the counter. It's around eight p.m. It took a longer than expected on that one. My neck is a little sore from the angle I had to work.
"Anyone else?" I ask Janet. She is our receptionist. She is exactly what you would picture for a tattoo shop. Black hair, piercings, nose, lip , all the way up both ears. She likes to wear tank tops to show off all her art. Some of it is mine.
"Not at the moment. No appointments. Jerry took the last walk in." She spins on her stool. Dropping the magazine she was reading, she starts rubbing my shoulders. I let out an long appreciative sigh. "What would you guys do without me?" She teases.
"Still be in the cave rubbing sticks together." Joking her back.
She giggles. I relish in the attention to my sore muscles until the doorbell chimes. Janet stops and turns to greet the customer. He is a menacing looking figure. Probably 6'2" long dark hair, dark eyes, big muscles. He stares directly at me. Before Janet can launch into her usual meet and greet he speaks.
"I am looking for Connor." He says in a demanding tone.
"Well you're in luck. Our number one artist is right here." Motioning to me.
His eyes are still on me. After a moment he lets out a sinister sounding laugh. "You are Connor?"
"One and only." I answer.
"I expected someone very different." If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that.
"Is there something I can help you with?" There is something very unnerving about his grin.
"I hear you are a very talented man."
"He's the best." Janet cuts in. "Does all his own work." Offering the book of my original art work. He looks her over before taking it. He flips through it rather quickly.
"You have dark taste." He comments as he continues.
"That is just some of my work. It varies with my mood. These have never been done on anyone." I motion to the book. "I never duplicate an image once I place it on someone's skin. What you get from me is unique. It will vary from the picture slightly since I do it free hand. This is just a template." Tapping a finger on the book. "If you want me to create something from scratch it will be quite a bit more expensive."
"This is interesting." He says studying a picture of the Angel of Death. I give him a moment to study it.
When he pulls a wad of cash from his pocket I don't care how long it will take. "Third door on the left." I offer, dazed by the bills.
"Five grand." Janet mouths as she counts it quickly. I can count on her to charge the appropriate amount and hand over the rest. With the nod I give her, she knows she will get a handsome tip tonight.
"Where were you thinking?" I ask when I walk in.
"Not sure. Have any suggestions?"
