Hot Bubblegum by SoapyMayhem
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
0. . . oO•.o.Hot Bubblegum.o.•Oo . . .0
Chapter 5
*\o\Edward Masen Cullen/o/*
"Got anything good for me today?" I asked Jake as I was
walking in through the back door of the shop. He must have gotten an early
start because he was already working, leaning over a burly biker's left bicep,
tattooing the likeness of an English bulldog.
My buddy and business partner, Jake, did all the realistic work -
likenesses of faces, pets, celebrities and such were his specialty, and he did them
with an almost photo-realistic precision. He was highly-sought-after and his
work was what put our shop on the map. I was pretty fucking awesome myself, but
Jake was a master.
My cousin Rose was our piercer. She did a lot of the simple tats -
mostly easy stuff like hearts and stars, Chinese lettering - things people
usually got when they were drunk. On most days, she usually handled the
walk-ins, but her boyfriend, Emmett, had pulled her away for the weekend to a
hot-rod show in San Diego.
Shit rolls downhill around here, so that put my ass on walk-in duty for
the rest of the day.
As for me, I usually did all the fancy, abstract work. All the custom
tats were mine to design, and I loved being able to be creative like that.
These days, those special pieces were sometimes few and far between and
generally only requested by our regulars - the people who came back over and
over till there was almost no clean skin left to ink.
"You have a walk-in and an appointment at one - the walk-in is up
front now, needing a little color touch up on a two-color piece, and the
appointment was a chick - sounded young, mentioned it would be her first
time," he replied.
"Great…" I muttered sarcastically "…fucking
virgins." The girl would probably pick a cutie-pie little butterfly or
some boring Gothic-style lettering of her boyfriend's name.
It had been weeks since I'd had a chance to ink something interesting
and even remotely original. I usually ended up turning back to my sketches,
designing new tats that I'd eventually get for myself.
I still had room for a few more on my right bicep as well as my back,
but only because I was still trying to decide what I wanted. As young as I was,
I had time to gain a bit more life experiences worth commemorating.
Thinking back to todays agenda, I sighed disappointedly and walked up
front, ready to greet the walk-in I'd soon be working on.
.
.
"So there I was, pounding into her - legs wide open, propped on my
shoulders, and crying out 'fuck me Daddy, fuck me Daddy' over and over. I was
about to fucking lose it. Then all of a sudden, the door flies open behind us,
and there stands her mother looking just completely horrified, and my girl's
oblivious, still screaming that 'fuck me Daddy' chant at the top of her lungs.
I don't know what the fuck to do, so I pull out and I'm about to grab something
to cover up with when I blow my load all over the fucking couch," Jared,
my walk-in, regaled, cracking us all up with his weird and ridiculous story.
"Goddamn… I bet your girl was embarrassed," I commented,
shaking my head at the poor bastard.
"Nah… that girl ain't got no shame, but her Mom was sure as hell
pissed off - wanting to know if she was acting out some kind of unfulfilled sex
fantasy about her deadbeat father," he replied with a grimace. "That
was an awkward conversation."
"Shit… that's fucking insane," Jake said from the other chair,
still working on the bulldog tat.
"Last time I went over there, the couch had been fitted with one of
those plastic covers," he added, making us howl with laughter again.
He kept telling us more and more raunchy stories, but I turned my focus
back to finishing the retouch, taking my cues from the others and laughing
slightly whenever he got them cracking up about whatever he was talking about.
"Okay, you're all set," I said after taping up the fresh ink
on his arm.
"Thanks man… listen... I checked out your work on the shop's blog
and I was pretty impressed, so I wanted to let you know that you'd be seeing me
again as soon as I'm ready to get my next piece," he complimented.
I got him taken care of and went back to get everything set up for the
next client.
My last appointment was going to be arriving soon, and I was starting to
get antsy since I'd finished the touch-up. Not that I was eager to work on
whatever silly thing she'd likely want - I was ready to get it over with - have
a couple beers and relax for a while.
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