Invisible Lines (Part 5)

Invisible Lines

(5)                          {start with Part 1}

Sima floated; relaxed, exhausted, unspeakably satisfied.

God, that hurt, but the only ache left was that of well-used muscles. Paul had soothed and cooled lines of fire on her torso into the kind of stings that reminded her she was alive. Tomorrow everything would be tender and sore, which was good in its own way, too. But for the moment, she was just happy, relieved, and, looking at Paul, simply grateful. He’d been cool, almost serene, as she’d gone to pieces under him. None of her previous sojourns under the needle had been quite like this; given and taken so much. Her fourth tattoo had actually never been finished because she’d freaked out the artist with her imperfectly hidden climax. But Paul kept on – almost as solid and steady as the machine itself.

But he was human, after all. The bulge in his pants – and then the erect cock he’d freed to the air demonstrated that. The move had surprised her, but it was flattering in its way, and, well, it was a natural reaction. It was also lot better than it could have been. Sima could now face the memory of her third tattooist, though she’d succeeded in blotting out his name and face. “Pre-payment” the guy had called it, and it had tainted almost the whole experience.

This was different. Sima wanted it. Or at least, she was more than okay with it when he laid her back and took hold of her head in one strong hand. His cock fit her lips well, tasting… male against her tongue. She knew she was no expert fellatist, but old boyfriends had never complained. Paul didn’t complain. He just held her with strong fingers as she sucked him. She brought her hands to his hips, not so much to resist as to hold on to him. The rhythm lasted a short while, as her tongue teased, cheeks hollowed, lips slid along the shaft, until he felt his muscles tensing. His cock swelled one last fraction as he let out a low, breaking sigh and pushed almost to the back of her throat, nearly causing her to gag. She relaxed herself as best she could when his cum erupted into her.

Paul held her there until his cock began softening and subsiding in her mouth, then relaxed his fingers and released her. He finally pulled the glove off the other hand, and stroked her cheek with its warm fingers. His thumb collected an errant drop of cum, and brought it back to her lips, she licked the salty-sweet stuff from it as she looked up at his face. Then, they both took a deep breath almost together, and something, maybe the very air itself sighed in release. Paul half-turned to put himself away and set his pants in order.

“Thank you,” he said, and then almost audibly shifting gears, went into care and healing instructions for the tattoo. Of course she’d heard them many times before, but she listened dutifully, in case his methods were different.

“Take the bandage off between 6 and 8 hours, OK? Even if it means waking up early.”

She nodded.

“I’d recommend loose clothing for a few days, too.”

He helped her sit up, then busied himself cleaning his work area, keeping an eye on her as she gingerly stretched her limbs and back. He insisted she drink water, and watched her as she stood up. She waved that she felt fine, and he finished putting things away, opening the glass studio door to the front of the shop. Sima felt the presence of her new lines as she moved. She felt warm and damp between her legs, and decided not to look too carefully at her jeans.

“It’s dark out now. You shouldn’t walk alone.”

Was that some kind of offer?

“I live uptown. I’ll catch a taxi.”

“No, I’ll call one to come pick you up right here.”

“All right.”

He went over to the computer/register at the counter and rang her up while he dialed the cab company on his cell phone. Full price, which Sima paid with her credit card.

“Yellow has somebody a couple blocks away. Just a few minutes.”


She still glowed, embers inside still hot.  Yet there was something missing in how she was feeling, and Sima couldn’t quite place it at first, but then realized that missing thing wasn’t a bad thing at all. For the first time since she’d started doing this, she felt unashamed.

“Um, Paul?”


“If I come back here, next time…”


“Would you do another one?” This was the first time she’d asked before she’d left. The first time she’d been emboldened to think of it.

Paul regarded her for a moment, eyes shifting to where her blouse covered the inkless tattoo he’d just given her. Sima guessed he was in his late 30’s.  And his hair wasn’t all black – there were a handful of grey hairs at his temples.

“Maybe. I have to think about it. I can’t say yes right now. But I won’t say no.”

“All right.” It was not the answer she’d hoped for, but better than the one she’d made herself expect.

The cab ride home was a blur of city lights. This one smelled of cigar smoke, which made her realize that Chrysalis Tattoo, unlike most of the parlors she’d been to, hadn’t had a hint of smoke smell at all. The dredlocked cabby talked nonstop in a thick Jamaican accent on a hands-free phone about some soccer game the whole way home.

Back in her apartment, Sima moved quietly so as not to awaken sleeping roommates. In the privacy of her room, she forwent her usual nightshirt, opting for only a fresh pair of panties before carefully laying down in her bed. She closed her eyes and thought of the needle and what it did to her; the lines, Paul’s hands, Paul’s … she slept like the dead until her alarm woke her to change her dressing.

{Continued in Part 6}

Latest Comments

  1. filledandfooled says:

    I love the unrelenting chills I get when I read stories like this. Bravo!

  2. paul1510 says:

    a beautiful well rounded tale, thank you.

  3. Liz says:

    this was great, start to finish. it had a quietness to it but also very erotic.

    • Monocle says:

      Thank you so much, Liz. Though I have to say, it’s not ove. I neglected to put “To Be Continued” at the end of this post. I don’t know if I’ll have another part tomorrow, but there’s more to come.

  4. dark gracie ® says:

    I am really enjoying this series. It brings back memories and has pushed for my need to get my next tattoo. I noticed it’s to be continued, I hope we don’t have to wait too long.

    • Monocle says:

      Thank you very much, Gracie! I’m hoping to continue it in the coming week. I’d like to keep the momentum going. I’m enjoying seeing where this is going. Also this story – this past two weeks of posts (not including the poetry pages) has been more new writing than I’ve done in the previous 20 months combined.

  5. April says:

    I have only just been able to catch up on reading this. I am truly running out if words to describe this series. Wow. Just wow.


  6. thelustfulliterate says:

    I wrote a poem awhile back about getting a tattoo called The Image Poet, and how it can be, well….rather erotic. Having to disrobe, show a certain amount of flesh…having their hands on you…ummm….I’m feeling another tattoo coming on…

  7. dragon says:

    I read Invisible Lines parts one through five in one sitting. I loved every word and shared the link with two friends. Those who know me best would be shocked I didn’t close the window at the first bead of blood. I was a bit shocked myself, but kept going. I can’t “handle” certain topics and themes. Blood and “blurred lines” regarding consent are RED issues for me most of the time and make me anxious. None the less, you pulled me into this story. I think the way you wrote it allowed me to safely take this journey with your characters. Thank you for the gift of your words and for writing this particular tale in a way which kept me safe. I think you’ll understand what I mean by all of that. *lip nibble* I’m looking forward to reading more.

    • Monocle says:

      I believe I do understand, and I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed the series so far, and even moreso that it’s not been a barrier to negotiate difficult territory. It’s a challenge both to write and to read outside one’s comfort zone, but so well worth it.

    • dragon says:

      I thought you would. You are welcome. It was refreshing to negotiate difficult territory. Reading outside my comfort zone is a challenge. This is especially true when the writer is able to paint images in my head. *warm smile* You paint very well! As far as writing is concerned, I don’t think I’ve truly written outside my comfort zone in over twenty years. Typing that bit made me frown. I’ve written about uncomfortable things, but that’s not the same thing. It sounds like you meet the challenge far more often!

    • Monocle says:

      Heh. Oh, it’s taken a LONG time to get this – to get anything – moving. But I’m glad to be doing it, even though it’s hard. It seems writing anything at the moment is out of my comfort zone. As for writing subjects outside one’s comfort zone, it’s very much the same thing. You have to grit your teeth and force it out. You don’t have to like the process or even the product – it doesn’t need to see the light of day, really. Just having done it will have benefits.

    • dragon says:

      “Oh, it’s taken a LONG time to get this – to get anything – moving.” You’ve just reminded me of Newton’s First Law! *geeky grin* Keep forcing it if it makes you feel good! Does composing in the darkness of my mind count as writing subjects outside my comfort zone? If so, I’ve done a bit of that over the past two years. I should probably return to keeping a journal. I do miss that sometimes, but I don’t like the thought of someone going back and reading my journals. *shudder* Typing a journal would be easier to get rid of at some point, but I prefer using a pencil!

    • Monocle says:

      I think whatever milieu works for you is how you should do it. For my part, it turns out I liked writing stories independently of self exploration and naming of demons, and gratifying libido. Which means I still want to do it when it’s hard. It’s just harder. Heh.

    • dragon says:

      *chuckle* Well said! I used to enjoy writing stories, but I haven’t in a while. I’m not sure I had the knack, but it was fun!

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