“Sweet spot,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, as his gloved hands brushed against my inner thigh. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the shiver that ran through my body. The chair beneath me felt cold and sterile, but the heat pooling between my legs was anything but. I spread my legs wider, my skirt bunched up around my hips, my thong tugged down just enough to expose my shaved pubic mound. His smirk was subtle, but I caught it, and it made my heart race.The buzz of the tattoo machine filled the room, a high-pitched hum that seemed to echo in my ears. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin as he positioned the needle just above my pussy. The first touch of the needle was sharp, a quick sting that made me gasp. But then, the vibration—oh, the vibration—radiated down, sending tingles straight to my core. I clenched the edge of the chair, my knuckles white, as I tried to steady myself.“You okay?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was a glint in his eyes that told me he knew exactly what he was doing.“Yeah,” I breathed, my voice shaky. “Just… intense.”He chuckled softly, the sound sending another wave of warmth through me. “Relax,” he said, his free hand brushing against my thigh again. “I’ve got you.”But then his fingers slid lower, just a fraction, and I felt the tip of his gloved finger graze my clit. My breath hitched, and I couldn’t stop the small moan that escaped my lips. He didn’t stop tattooing, the needle still buzzing against my skin, but his fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, teasing me with just the right amount of pressure.“Gotta keep you calm,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. I could feel the smugness in his tone, and it only turned me on more. My hips rocked slightly against his hand, and I could feel how wet I already was. The combination of the needle’s sting and his fingers working me was intoxicating, a mix of pain and pleasure that had me on the edge.“Fuck,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Keep going.”He didn’t hesitate. His fingers pressed harder against my clit, and then, without warning, he slipped three fingers inside me. I gasped, my body arching off the chair as he stretched me, his fingers pumping in and out with a rhythm that made my head spin. The needle was still vibrating against my skin, the sting of it blending perfectly with the pleasure coursing through me.“Oh my god,” I moaned, my hips moving in time with his hand. “Yes, yes, yes…”He chuckled again, his breath warm against my neck as he leaned in closer. “You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You like this, don’t you?”“Yes,” I breathed, my voice barely audible over the sound of the tattoo machine and my own moans. My thighs were shaking, my body so close to the edge that I could hardly think straight.---It had started weeks ago, when I first walked into his shop. I had been thinking about getting a tattoo for ages—something small, something sexy—and I’d seen his work online. His name was Ash, and his designs were incredible. Intricate, detailed, and always with a dark, seductive edge. I’d booked the appointment on a whim, not really thinking too much about it, but the moment I walked into the shop and saw him, I knew I was in trouble.He was tall, lean, with sleeves of tattoos covering his arms and a piercing in his eyebrow that made him look dangerous in the best possible way. His hands—god, his hands—were long and slender, the kind of hands you couldn’t help but imagine on your body. He’d been professional, of course, asking me what I wanted and where I wanted it. But there was something in the way he looked at me, something in the way his eyes lingered just a little too long, that made me wonder if he was thinking the same thing I was.I’d told him my idea—a small succubus, just above my pussy, with little wings curling down—and he’d smirked. “Sweet spot,” he’d said, and that had been enough to make my cheeks flush. We’d set a date, and I’d left the shop with a feeling of anticipation that I couldn’t shake.Now, here I was, spread out on the chair, his fingers inside me, his hand working me in a way that made it impossible to focus on anything else. The needle was still buzzing against my skin, but I could barely feel it anymore. All I could feel was the pleasure building inside me, the way his fingers curled just right, hitting that spot that made me see stars.“You’re so close, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and thick. I could feel his breath against my neck, and it sent shivers down my spine.“Yes,” I gasped, my hips rocking against his hand. “Please, don’t stop.”He didn’t. His fingers moved faster, harder, and I could feel the tension in my body coiling tighter and tighter. The combination of the needle’s sting and his hand working me was too much, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. My body tensed, and then I was coming, my thighs shaking, my moans filling the room as waves of pleasure washed over me.

I got a succubus tattoo on my pubic mound, and the needle’s buzz got me soaked. My tattoo guy teased my clit, then fingered me with three fingers while inking, making me come hard. He flipped me on my back, fucked me raw with his pierced dick—beads rubbing inside—pounding me till I squirted, then came all over me, leaving my new tat burning.



“Sweet spot,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, as his gloved hands brushed against my inner thigh. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the shiver that ran through my body. The chair beneath me felt cold and sterile, but the heat pooling between my legs was anything but. I spread my legs wider, my skirt bunched up around my hips, my thong tugged down just enough to expose my shaved pubic mound. His smirk was subtle, but I caught it, and it made my heart race.

The buzz of the tattoo machine filled the room, a high-pitched hum that seemed to echo in my ears. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin as he positioned the needle just above my pussy. The first touch of the needle was sharp, a quick sting that made me gasp. But then, the vibration—oh, the vibration—radiated down, sending tingles straight to my core. I clenched the edge of the chair, my knuckles white, as I tried to steady myself.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone casual, but there was a glint in his eyes that told me he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Yeah,” I breathed, my voice shaky. “Just… intense.”

He chuckled softly, the sound sending another wave of warmth through me. “Relax,” he said, his free hand brushing against my thigh again. “I’ve got you.”

But then his fingers slid lower, just a fraction, and I felt the tip of his gloved finger graze my clit. My breath hitched, and I couldn’t stop the small moan that escaped my lips. He didn’t stop tattooing, the needle still buzzing against my skin, but his fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, teasing me with just the right amount of pressure.

“Gotta keep you calm,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. I could feel the smugness in his tone, and it only turned me on more. My hips rocked slightly against his hand, and I could feel how wet I already was. The combination of the needle’s sting and his fingers working me was intoxicating, a mix of pain and pleasure that had me on the edge.

“Fuck,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Keep going.”

He didn’t hesitate. His fingers pressed harder against my clit, and then, without warning, he slipped three fingers inside me. I gasped, my body arching off the chair as he stretched me, his fingers pumping in and out with a rhythm that made my head spin. The needle was still vibrating against my skin, the sting of it blending perfectly with the pleasure coursing through me.

“Oh my god,” I moaned, my hips moving in time with his hand. “Yes, yes, yes…”

He chuckled again, his breath warm against my neck as he leaned in closer. “You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I breathed, my voice barely audible over the sound of the tattoo machine and my own moans. My thighs were shaking, my body so close to the edge that I could hardly think straight.

---

It had started weeks ago, when I first walked into his shop. I had been thinking about getting a tattoo for ages—something small, something sexy—and I’d seen his work online. His name was Ash, and his designs were incredible. Intricate, detailed, and always with a dark, seductive edge. I’d booked the appointment on a whim, not really thinking too much about it, but the moment I walked into the shop and saw him, I knew I was in trouble.

He was tall, lean, with sleeves of tattoos covering his arms and a piercing in his eyebrow that made him look dangerous in the best possible way. His hands—god, his hands—were long and slender, the kind of hands you couldn’t help but imagine on your body. He’d been professional, of course, asking me what I wanted and where I wanted it. But there was something in the way he looked at me, something in the way his eyes lingered just a little too long, that made me wonder if he was thinking the same thing I was.

I’d told him my idea—a small succubus, just above my pussy, with little wings curling down—and he’d smirked. “Sweet spot,” he’d said, and that had been enough to make my cheeks flush. We’d set a date, and I’d left the shop with a feeling of anticipation that I couldn’t shake.

Now, here I was, spread out on the chair, his fingers inside me, his hand working me in a way that made it impossible to focus on anything else. The needle was still buzzing against my skin, but I could barely feel it anymore. All I could feel was the pleasure building inside me, the way his fingers curled just right, hitting that spot that made me see stars.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and thick. I could feel his breath against my neck, and it sent shivers down my spine.

“Yes,” I gasped, my hips rocking against his hand. “Please, don’t stop.”

He didn’t. His fingers moved faster, harder, and I could feel the tension in my body coiling tighter and tighter. The combination of the needle’s sting and his hand working me was too much, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. My body tensed, and then I was coming, my thighs shaking, my moans filling the room as waves of pleasure washed over me.

I got a succubus tattoo on my pubic mound, and the needle’s buzz got me soaked. My tattoo guy teased my clit, then fingered me with three fingers while inking, making me come hard. He flipped me on my back, fucked me raw with his pierced dick—beads rubbing inside—pounding me till I squirted, then came all over me, leaving my new tat burning.

I Let a Tattoo Artist Fuck Me on His Chair After My Session (F25)

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