A Public Distraction
written by:
M to the Last

"You are really distracting." Chance said quietly, but loud enough for me to hear him over the buzz of the tattoo gun.

"Who? Me?" I asked with a grin. My back was to him as he tattooed my shoulder. He'd been working on me for the last hour, and we probably had an hour and a half or two hours to go. When I came in to look at the artists and choose one for my tattoo, I had been drawn to his book. We hadn't met, but I really liked the way he treated women's bodies - both the ones he tattooed (he had a knack for putting tattoos in exactly the right spot no matter what the woman's body was like) and the tattoos of women that he drew. I could tell he appreciated the female form. When I'd selected him and he came to talk to me, I think there was a mutual... spark. I wasn't sure, but I think there was a faint blush when I caught him looking me up and down.

Now, I sat in just my jeans and a bra, only one strap still on my shoulder, leaning against the side of the tattoo chair. I felt a soft breath of air as he leaned a little closer. The stations in the shop were semi-secluded, and we were in the back corner.

"Yes. You." he said. "Am I going to incite the wrath of some burly dude for telling you that?" I laughed at his question.

"No ‘burly dude' to speak of, thankfully. Which is good for you. Your face is too pretty to bust up." It was his turn to laugh.

"I will take that as a compliment." He was good looking, in his own way. And the tapestry of tattoos woven across his body were gorgeous. Goosebumps sprang up across my back and down my arms as his mouth moved in close to my ear. "You're going out for a drink with me when we're done."

"Don't boss me." I told him over my shoulder. His eyes sparkled at me.

"You're going out for a drink with me when we're done?" He asked, his voice jokingly going up in inflection at the end. I laughed again.

"That's better."

After that, his fingers danced across my body in a slightly more familiar way. I could tell by how often the other artists came in to check out my tattoo that he wasn't the only one I was distracting. I enjoyed the attention and chatted casually with him while he worked.

"Wait, you do what?" Chance asked me, pausing in his work.

"I write erotic stories for fun. Mostly for my own amusement, but occasionally I post them online. I used to get paid per story from this one site, but it closed down. I found I enjoyed it a lot, so I kept at it. It's fun."

"Based on your experiences, or on fantasies you have?" He asked.

"A little from column ‘A,' a little from columb ‘B.' I told him.

"I want to read one." He said in my ear, eliciting goosebumps again. His fingers moved across my back, gently caressing me. "I want to hear one right now."

"Won't that be distracting?" I said cheekily to him. I rather liked the idea of reading one out loud, not caring who else besides him was listening.

"Yes. In the best way."

I pulled on up on my phone and read it to him, and could tell when something particularly excited him, as the tattoo gun would pause. Reading him the story was a good distraction from the occasional discomfort from the tattoo. I could feel a wet spot between my legs as my own arousal.

When I was done, there was a long pause. Finally, I turned to look at Chance, and could see in his face how turned on he was. His eyes dipped to my chest and mine dipped to his crotch. His jeans looked a little tighter than before. Locking eyes again, one side of my mouth turned up in a saucy grin.

"Why don't we take a quick break? I need to stretch a little before we finish." I told him.

"Yeah. Sure." He said, leaning back a little on his stool. I reached my hand toward him, sliding it slowly up his thigh. He looked down, surprised, then back up at me.

"Is there a bathroom I can use to see my tattoo?" I asked him, my fingers moved across his hard cock. He raised an eyebrow at me, glanced at the full-length mirror at his station, and nodded yes.

"It's, uh, back that way." He said, nodding towards the back of the shop. He cleaned my shoulder up a little while I reached my hand back to continue touching him through his jeans. We walked back to the bathroom and he followed me inside. I paused for a moment, looking over my shoulder at the tattoo in the mirror.

"That looks awesome." I told him as he shut the door and turned to me.

"Good. I'm glad you like it." He just looked at me for a moment, then stepped closer to me, his hands going to my waist and pulling me closer. I loved the way his hands explored my body. They were warm on my cool skin, and he let them roam my exposed skin for a moment before pulling me even closer. "God, you're sexy." He said, kissing me. I stepped into the kiss, pushing my body against his, feeling his hard cock against me. He slipped my remaining bra strap off of my shoulder and pushed my bra down, where it fell around my waist. He pulled out the kiss. "Jesus." He whispered, taking in my full breasts. He leaned down, holding my breasts in his hands, taking time to explore the weight of them before kissing first one, then the other. He sucked on my nipples and gently bit one when I reached down and started to undo his jeans.

He helped me push his jeans down, tight around his hard cock, then breathed out softly as I took him in my hand and started to jerk him off. One hand on my tits, his other hand traveled to grab my ass, kneading it through my jeans. His hand came back, stroking my skin, cupping my hip, before reaching down to rub my pussy through my jeans.

I was wet and wonderfully turned on. This tattoo session just kept getting better and better. He used both hands to unbutton my jeans and push them down. I kicked off one shoe so that I could pull one leg free of my jeans and maneuver a bit better. He pushed me back so that my ass was resting on the sink. One hand slid up my inner thigh, then reached my pussy and he started sliding his fingers across my lips. I moaned quietly, and he smiled. I pushed his hand aside and got my own fingers wet, then spread my juice on the tip of his cock. He arched into my hand, loving the way it felt, then stepped into me. He pushed the tip of his cock into my pussy, getting it even wetter, then pulled back and rubbed the head of his cock on my clit. I reached my hands up, playing with my nipples, enjoying the feeling of him against my clit. He kissed me again, harder, and when his tongue slipped into my mouth he slid his cock into my pussy, stretching me wide. I used my free leg to pull him closer, wrapping it around his hip. His hands moved to my hips, pulling me against him, lifting me off the sink and turning to push me against the bathroom wall.

My jeans hanging off of my other leg, I wrapped that one around him, too. He plunged into me, pushing my lower back against the wall. I held one shoulder off the wall, sparing myself the pain of my half-tattooed skin rubbing on the wall.

I was so wet, he slid in and out me easily, a beautiful sound accompanying each thrust. My clit rubbed against him as he fucked me, and I got closer and closer to cumming.

When he leaned down to suck on my tits again, it pushed me over the edge, and I felt my pussy tighten around him, trying to hold him in place. He thrust against my orgasm, telling me how fucking hot and tight I was, that I was going to make him cum, asking me if he could cum inside me, and I nodded at him, lost in the euphoria of my orgasm. He could do whatever the hell he wanted.

He put me down and spun me around, bending me over the sink, and slipped back inside me without skipping a beat. I looked at him in the mirror, and he stared at my tits, watching them move with each thrust. He grabbed my hips, pulling me back roughly, pulling out a little less with each thrust, and planted himself deep inside me as he came.

I could feel an extra warmth fill me, feel him pulsing inside me, feel him rocking slightly into me as he let out a long breath/moan. He released my hips and leaned his hands on the counter on either side of me and we looked at each other in the mirror. Both breathing heavily, a slow smile spread across both of our faces. He picked up one hand and slid it slowly up my back, letting it rest on the shoulder he wasn't applying ink to.

"Holy shit." He whispered. I laughed quietly. "I don't want to pull out. You feel so fucking good. You look pretty fucking good, too." Then he looked alarmed. "How loud were we?" He asked.

"Not very, though there may have been a tell-tale rhythmic bumping your coworkers may have noticed." I smiled.

"Totally worth it." He said. Finally, he pulled out of me and I straightened. We righted our clothing, and he surprised me by kissing me passionately as I finished restoring my bra to it's correct position. He then cleaned up my tattoo a little bit before we slipped back to his station.

"So." He said as he resumed my tattoo.

"So." I mocked him, and he laughed.

"You going to write a story about that?"

"I already did." I told him. "You'll just have to inspire another story after our drink tonight."

"Deal."