I'm trying to get into the habit of writing more frequently so I decided to write on an old subject from @bloghomework ! This is the story of my first tattoo. This is after several sessions and it is still not finished, which I will go into more detail at below.
My first tattoo was a love/hate sort of situation. To set the scene, you have to imagine at the time I got it I was a very different person--much more reserved, much less confident, and much more self conscious. This tattoo was part of what I hope will be a lifelong romance with body modification. I wanted a cyberpunk owl--something that has significance for a number of reasons, least of all of which it is a neat idea.
So, long story short, I go to the parlor. The artist is a friend of mine, has done numerous tattoos for friends. i hear he takes a while and can be hard to get him to finish tattoos, but his work as far as talent is nearly unparalleled by any local artist. Keep in mind, this is my first tattoo.
So, they set me down for some work. In the back of the shop. Keep in mind, I'm in a thong, underneath a dress, given the placement of the tattoo. The entire time I'm getting it done for the outline, I am screaming/crying, and have at least one-three wayward gentleman staring as much at my snatch as possible. Now, I should mention here I am a masochist, of a huge level. The more the pain, the better. About halfway through my first session, I start getting nerve-wracking screaming orgasms. AFter about three hours the orgasms turn to just straight crying. So I am arousing/terrifying all our clientele.
This shop is on 6th street in Austin, so a lot of our clientele around this time of night is drunken people coming in for a cute little arm or leg tattoo. The people across from me now is a caucasian gentleman trying to impress/likely bang two Latina women he is buying small arm tattoos for. I am of course terrifying them, and while I didn't mean to cockblock this fellow with my screamcrying I can't particularly help it at this point. So, I continue on. Five and a half hours later, the outline is done. For those of you who know anything about tatoos, you'll know while this one is lovely for how finished it is, five and a half hours is way too long for ANY outline that is not a full back piece.
A couple months later, it's my second session. This time the only difference--they've moved the artist's set up to directly in the front of the shop. I have all the same scream/crying/orgasms as before, except all of the drunken fratboys, woo girls and all other riff raff that comes in these parts at 1 am on a Saturday are moving directly in front of me to see the flash, ring up purchases, buy jewelry, pretty much anything one would come in a tattoo shop for. I am nearly mortified and want to die of embarassment, and am not yet forward as I am now to tell the man staring firmly at my crotch he can suck my figurative penis.
At the end of the tattoo, I'm feeling a bit more emblazoned. On the couch at the end of the shop there are two very nice looking young gentleman staring at their laps with their head in their hands looking too mortified to speak, cheeks red as can be. Loud orgasms and screaming for an hour straight tend to do that. I walk up to these gentlemen, hike up my skirt to reveal the new tattoo and say "Hey boys watcha think?" They give me a cursory glance, mumble ti looks nice and return their heads to their laps resting places. This was one of many such encounters with exhibitionism that would make me feel oh-so-delightful in my pant places.
The next session we do is in another more private place, thank God. I've decided to get the art finished by someone else because one of the most important things this experience taught me is the need for professionalism in a tattoo--privacy should the tattoo be in a "private" area, making sure the staff is making sure the fellow patrons respect me should any be around, and most importantly--not spending far too much on a tattoo that should've been finished already in about 1/3rd the time. While I very much enjoy this tattoo, its magic is long since lost on me given the long hours and money I spent on something that is still a work in progress. I am looking to have it finished soon by somebody else with a higher sense of professionalism, but I will always cherish it as my first, and the one with some of the most vivid and entertaining memories.