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I get final approval on mine.”“That’s not fair!” she pointed out.“Do you want a tattoo or not?”“Fine. Is there a tattoo parlor in town?”“Not that I’m aware of.” Before she could protest, I added, “We’ll consult an expert. You can’t go to any old tattoo place.”“Which expert?”An hour later I led Rachael into Fred’s Barber Shop. Four dark red vinyl barber seats lined one wall of the small shop, mirrors facing each. Blue Barbasol glass containers had black combs and scissors soaking in them. An old leather strop hung at one station.The shop was empty. It was early.“Who’re we meeting?” Rachael asked as she followed me in, a small bell fastened to the door tinkling.Fred emerged from the back room. Fred was in his mid-fifties. He was big, as in BIG. Six-four, bushy beard, and a build like a biker, his most amazing feature was the colorful tattoos covering his arms. Not one piece of natural skin was left untouched.“Holy shit!” Rachael exclaimed under her breath.“Hey! Jake!” Fred said with a. Monica got off her desk and went back home, leaving a wet spot in her chair.That night, Monica was standing against the bedroom wall, ready to be fucked. Her Master climbed up her shapely legs and wrapped around her hips. Monica’s lubricating fluid was already dripping down her thighs. But something different happened. The bug penetrated her ass instead of her pussy. Monica squealed softly, surprised by the unexpected change. As the tentacle entered deeper and deeper, she realized that she loved this too. It was her master’s wish so it was right. It wasn’t long before she reached the first orgasm of the night.***The next morning, Monica’s eyes were fixed on the pulsating lights but she wasn’t looking at all. Her pupils were just channels that let the detailed instructions burst into her mesmerized mind. All she had to do was to obey. Monica got dressed and left her house.One hour later, the bedroom door opened and Monica walked in followed closely by her friend Jennifer.“So, are you.
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..“Mattson? What does this mean? How do you feel about me?”Mattson looked at her for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he sighed and looked away. “I...” He couldn’t say it. It simply wouldn’t come out. His mind was in too much turmoil from the kiss, and the discovery that he felt more for her than just friendship. He saw it in her eyes; she knew that secret he held deep inside himself, and had tried, almost perfectly, to keep it from ever coming to light.“I’m five years older than you, Cory.”Light dawned anew in her eyes. “Oh my ... god...”“Yeah.” He said quietly.“How long?”“How long what?”“How long have you been in love with me, Mattson?”He was silent for a long time, not trusting himself to speak. She reached out and grabbed his arm with both hands, and shook him gently to try to get his attention.“I have to know, Mattson. I have to know.” She said it with some urgency, as a thought, merely the beginning of a concept, began to form deep in the recesses of her.

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