Do I get paid for it?
I don’t want to talk about it… Like seriously I find myself choosing tattoos over food.
Like the other day I was in the supermarket and had 8$ in change I found in my car. That’s all
I had because a couple tattoos in the same
Pay cycle.
So I was going to get milk and bread and some fruit to last me till pay… But then realised I was out of bepathan (tattoo aftercare cream) so found it and it was like $7.99 so that’s what I bought.
For 4 days I survived off frozen bread, milk that expired 1 day ago and the last scraps of rice bubbles which I hate because it’s all crushed in the bottom of the box.
So yea they cost a bit. I was going to add up how much but halfway through realised how expensive they are and instead cried in the shower while stroking my beautiful art work.
My skin is the most expensive thing I own.
Is a tattoo sugar daddy a thing?
pee mostly…
mostly about how much it hurts, pokemon, future tattoos, boys and world politics…
Have you seen the video I took? here is it: https://youtu.be/977bqzwwPtM
They suck!
Free the thighs!!!I wanna be able to legally cut people up.
I have already answered this so many times >.<
HAHA was actually thinking that but I dont own skinny jeans… (my thighs wont fit)
Please don’t say things like that.
Even as a joke “wishing” you were unwell is such a stupid thing to say. Imagine how someone who is actually sick would feel reading such a poorly thought out comment.
Come on dude. Think before talking yeah?
To become a doctor… Lol why else?
Haha wanna buy my house… Selling it in the next couple months… Plan to fund myself though med school so fingers crossed for a good price
Walking down Chapel street, he never let go of my hand. He was not bothered by being seen holding hands with another man. Needless to say I was ecstatic be to living within this moment. This stranger I had met a mere few hours ago had picked out me of all people. We wandered down the road before finding a nice little café for breakfast. I love breakfast.
We sat across from one another at a table just for two in the cutest little café that ever did exist, I actually have absolutely no recollection of the café décor, I was somewhat distracted by present company. Expecting some of his overwhelming hotness to be a result of nightclub lighting and vodka shots I was proven wrong. Even at nearly 7am after a night out dancing this man was still freakishly perfect.
Sitting across from him in complete admiration reality set in and I began to feel slightly underwhelming, too afraid to glace at any reflective surface just in case I looked worse than I imagined. Generally after an 8 hour overnight shift I wasn’t exactly looking my best. He must have noticed my sudden realisation and increasing discomfort because halfway through his full English breakfast he stopped, started directly at me and demanded to know what was wrong.
I explained about how worried I was that compared to him I looked like shit, in turn questioning why he would even be interested when we had just left a club full of available men. Without hesitation he started to laugh, told me I was being silly then continued crunching down on his freshly cooked bacon. Just like that, not even bothered or displaced by my sudden burst of crazy. We finished breakfast, he refused to allow me to pay and being a true gentlemen, he even bought some pastries to go (THAT people is romance).
Standing out on the street he was looking a little nervous, I think we were both unsure of our next move. Thankfully he broke the silence… “So, am I getting you a taxi home or did you want to come back to my hotel?” How was I going to say no after being treated to a full breakfast. Trying to play it all cool, clam and collected I responded, “I guess I could come back to your hotel.” Pretty sure the stupid grin on my face gave me away though.
Arriving at the hotel I started to get nervous, I had no idea what this boy was expecting or even what I was expecting to happen. The room was nice, comfy looking bed and huge bathroom with a shower large enough to fit a small party. Half-jokingly I said how badly I wanted to jump in the shower. He was already two steps ahead. "That was my plan if you wanted to join me.“ He said while walking toward the bathroom, removing his shirt in the process. His torso was thick and dusted with a fine layer of well groomed scruff. Though his shirt and by watching him dance I already knew he was fairly muscular but fuck me, his clothing had done no justice. I stood frozen as I watched his muscular back disappear into the bathroom.
I stood there in the centre of the room still trying to piece together what was unfolding in front of me. “Well, are you coming in?” He called out through the sound of running water. I walked sheepishly into the bathroom and there he was, naked and surrounded by steam. His thighs just as thick and muscular as the rest of him and with the same fine sprinkle of hair trailing down the arch of his back to connect to a perfectly formed and rounded arse. He turned around to face me, water running down that chest before dripping from a pleasingly low hanging and quite sizeable cock. He just stood there, confident and dangling. "You gonna just stand there and just watch or you gonna get your arse in here?“ Snapping out of my state of shock I clumsily removed my shirt and pants, fumbling with every damn button and zip. Standing there in front of him in only my underwear I felt unsure, inadequate and vulnerable. Half of me wanted to turn and flee while the other half beyond aroused.
He was looking right at me not saying a world, unsure if he was pleased or disappointed with what he saw I simply continued to stand there staring. He stepped out from under the shower, still soaking wet wrapped those muscular arms around my waist before pressing his lips against mine. We kissed for a few seconds before I finally thought to reach up and return the embrace. His hips were wide and skin felt warm and smooth. We continued to kiss now hard and pressed up against one another, my underwear still in place but now soaking wet from the water running off his body and no longer serving much purpose. He stopped and pulled back until our eyes met then without breaking contact whispered "Fuck you are beautiful.”
For once I actually believed those words. Standing there exposed and wet I felt beautiful. I slid my underwear down to my ankles and he lead me underneath the shower. The combination of his arms and the warm water was comforting and soothing beyond belief.
We spent the next at least half an hour together in the shower. Talking, laughing and taking time to lather each other up with milk and honey body wash, the aroma of which still fills me with such warm and comforting memories. Both of us now well beyond clean and finger tips well wrinkled, we exited the shower. He quickly dried himself before taking his time to dry me, extra attention given to his favourite part of my body.
Satisfied I was finally adequately dried off he picked me up onto his hips so my legs where wrapped around his waist to carry me onto the bed. Everything started off fine and to say I was enjoying myself is a bit of an understatement. Everything he did was done with patience and care, he took his time with each step making sure we both enjoyed the entire experience, not progressing further too early. Kissing down my stomach he stopped just above my navel, looked up to ask, “can I keep going?”. I didn’t answer. I didn’t know the answer. He stopped and crawled back up to lay beside me. Suddenly I was unsure and once more began to feel uncomfortable naked. Getting up from the bed I scrambled around to find my clothing, underwear still wet I left them on the bathroom floor.
“Are you ok? Was something wrong?”
I tried to explain but still didn’t have an exact reason for my sudden state of panic. I tried to reassure him that he was not a fault, but I simply needed to leave. He offered to call me a taxi but I refused to accept any more kindness from this essentially perfect man. I thanked him for an amazing morning, kissed him goodbye then made my exit, grabbing the brown paper bag full of fresh pastries on my way out the door. Once last glance back before closing the door, even sad he still looked perfect. What was I doing?
Walking to the train station I nearly turned back several times, still dumbfounded as to what on earth I was thinking by leaving that hotel room. Once on the train, digging into the bag of pastry it all started to sink in. I wasn’t ready. My past was not yet past. Intoxication had fooled me into thinking I was but reality was sobering. Sitting alone on the train I started to cry. Thankfully the train nearly empty on this fine sunny Sunday morning and I was left alone the rest of the journey to sit undisturbed and cry into a bag of baked goods.
Ugh who has the time for that…
Like thanks for the compliment but 24 hours… Like can I have snacks? Will there be wifi and and a phone charger?