Page 30 of Bulletproof
A second tattoo artist entered the room and set up two tables. After they were cleaned with disinfectant and draped in plastic, Travis and Derekconsulted privately with their designated artists to explain the designs they chose for each other.
“Ready?” Derek walked up to Travis and they both slowly unbuckled their belts and opened their jeans. Eyes focused on one another, they stood face to face about to drop their pants, each smiling at the other. Derek tried to think of something other than the gorgeous body of the manin front of him, but nothing could oust the image from his head. And he couldn’t look away. Sexual chemistry buzzed between them as thick as an electrical current, and Derek felt movement at his crotch.
Travis let out an erotic chuckle and let his jeans fall to the floor, exposing his semi-hard cock. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“How am I supposed to look at you whenyou’re standing in front of me naked from the waist down? And why aren’t you wearing underwear?”
“Put your dicks away and let’s get down to business,” one of the tattoo artists said, without bother. “Face down on the table.”
Derek quickly slipped off his jeans and briefs and slid onto the table only a few feet away from Travis. As soon as the needle hit Derek’s butt cheek,his cock and balls shriveled down to nothing. He held his breath and his muscles clenched. He had too many tattoos to count, but none on his buttocks. The sharp sting on the baby soft flesh totally eradicated any hint of an erection. Squeezing his eyes shut and taking a deep breath, he tried to focus on something else – the band, tomorrow’s show, new music. A silly giggle coming from Travismade him open his eyes. “What’s so funny?”
“You. You’re cringing like a girl.”
The tattoo artist withdrew his machine from Derek’s skin. “The last chick I had in here got her ribs tattooed for 8 hours. She sat like a champ.”
“I stand corrected,” Travis said with humility. “Chicks got balls. Some bigger than mine.”
The artist gave a curt nod inagreement and returned his needle to Derek’s butt.
“Ow.”
Travis giggled again. “When it’s done, I’ll kiss it and make it all better.”
The tattoo artist smirked at Travis.
“I know. Infection. I was just kidding. Sorry, Derek. You’ll have to settle for antibiotic ointment.”
Derek glared over his shoulder at the tattoo artist. “Killjoy.”
“So neither of you has any idea what you’re getting inked on your asses?” the artist asked.
“Nope,” Travis quickly answered. “And don’t tell him. It’s a surprise.”
“You guys got guts.”
Derek felt like his guts were about to spill out of his butt. Whether it was the pressure of the needle, or because the guy’s face was so close to his ass, theinsatiable urge to fart overwhelmed him. It was just like when a guy was giving him a rim job for the first time, and worry about passing gas interfered with the pleasure of the act. His butt cheeks were so cramped from squeezing his inner muscles together that he barely felt the prick of the needle any longer. Maybe he should just warn the guy and pass wind. While he was contemplating what to do,Travis let out a long, loud fart that sounded like someone let go of an air-filled balloon and it was flipping around the room.
Everyone froze for a millisecond and then they all burst out laughing.
“You’re getting charged extra for that,” Travis’ tattoo artist said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye with his shoulder.
Derek convulsed with laughter.“You’re a sick fuck!”
“I know you wanted to do it, too,” Travis said. “Don’t tell me differently.”
Derek nodded and finally let out his own small-by-comparison fart, although his almost cleared the room with its stench.
Derek’s tattoo artist got to his feet and backed away, waving an arm in front of him. “That’s foul!”
Their laughter died down,and after the tattoo artists got clearance that there wouldn’t be any more unexpected releases, they got back to work.
Derek started to daze out, but heavy footsteps on the floor made him open his eyes as a third tattoo artist entered the room.
“I heard Derek MacAlister is here. Holy shit! There you are! I’d recognize that long black hair anywhere.”
Dereklifted his head. “Hey. What’s up?”
“I just tattooed your signature on a girl’s shoulder. She told me she ran into you out front.”
