• Sex Story: All I Wanted Was A Tramp Stamp..

    I know that I’m not the only one who’s guilty of doing it. Doing what you might ask. We all have seen on Facebook the suggested friends someone attractive pop up and we take a little lurk and creep through some of their profile pictures. You know you’ve done it, because I’m not ashamed to say I’ve done it.. several times. Sometimes what happens from my occasional lurking is pretty juicy.

    Well around Christmas last year, when I was out in Prince Edward Island visiting my mother and father for the holidays. I was in the house one evening just taking a gander (look) on Facebook being the big pervert that I am seeing one of those cute boys on Facebook as a suggested friend.   Of course I took a looksee.  After a few photos I noticed he was a tattoo artist.  I was like dayum well maybe I could just get him to do a tattoo on me and then if I can’t get the dick well at least I could have his hands touch my body.

    Damn right I messaged him.   He lived near Montreal and I took advantage of that.   But I didn’t even take a second to think that he may only speak French.   I forget a lot of the time when I’m in Quebec that some people just speak French and no English.   With that being said when he first responded back to me he had to get his current girlfriend to translate for him because he couldn’t speak English at all.. as I was told.  After a couple back and forth messages and a deposit was sent he drew up my tattoo and scheduled a date.

    I’ve always wanted a tramp stamp.  From the placement of the tattoo and how it can look I always liked the idea of that.  I never did it for the whole “tramp” stamp reason. A little while after I initially contacted him he started to message me on his own.  I find out recently after that his girlfriend well she wasn’t in the picture anymore. I only found out that piece of information when he asked me for a photo of my back area so he could put the stencil on with some photo editor to give me a idea of how the tattoo would look.   Because I’m such a diva and all that, so I needed to make sure it was perfect before I got it inked on my body.   The photo I sent him was a photo that was a still from a porn set I have done.   But I had to crop most of my ass because my balls were hanging low and I didn’t want him to know that I was trans..  hehe.

    Yes, I’m clearly a horrible horrible person not telling anyone that I have a cock.  But I don’t believe him giving me a tattoo was any of his Buisness for me to spill the t and tell him I was a tgirl… but that’s just my personal view on things.  Doesn’t mean my approach is right or wrong.. either way I still did what I did.  After a few days had past he messaged me on Facebook again.   Normally you’d assume that it would be something regarding my tattoo.   Well it was partially regarding my tattoo.   It was him telling me that he did some investigating of his own on my Facebook.

    I know right, how do I do it?  Sometimes I really don’t know how I luck out and strike gold when it comes to getting what I want in the opposite sex.    Throughout the messages it was hard to figure out what he was saying.   The language barrier from English and French was very strong.   There was a lot of google translation used to communicate from both of us.   From what I remember he told me that he realized I was transgendered and that it was the biggest fantasy for him to experience with a woman like myself.   At this point I was wondering if I needed to be pinched and brought back to reality since I wasn’t expecting to see that message appear on my screen.

    I repeat he told me he always dreamed of having experience with a girl like myself but because of the location of where he is outside of Montreal and hasn’t had the opportunity to come his way.   Then he told me that I was perfect, and he would pick me up on the day of the appointment and take me to his tattoo studio and I spend a few hours with him and he would only charge me half for the tattoo which consisted of 5 hours of straight tattooing.   What he didn’t know is that in my mind I already wanted the dick I just wasn’t expecting to get what I wanted.    So of course we all know what happened was I sent the response to the man with a confirmation of the date of meeting.

    He never specifically mentioned at that time, when he messaged me, that he wanted to fuck.   But common sense any person would have been able to see what is trying to be said when reading over his response to me.   Indirectly it was spelled right out there for anyone to see (if they had google translate or a good understanding of Quebecois French) if they were to read the Facebook conversation.     But as the days went on and the more and more teasing and flirting that built up to the date of meeting happened it was all fully known on both parties what was going to happen.

    It’s hard..  I am such a spoiled brat.  But I don’t intently try to be that way.   But it happens time after time when I have something that I want.. I 9/10 always get what I wanted effortlessly.   How I don’t know but I sure as hell don’t question it.

    Time lead up to the date but he got so impatient to see me that he was trying to get me to go a evening before the appointment to see him. Which I had no problem of doing so until when it was time to go from my phone and a incident at my home I couldn’t leave. The language barrier was very thick at this point for communication. So I attempted FaceTime. The man thought I was crazy and that I was playing games. It got to the point that he took a cab a hour into the city after a hour debate. I remember it plain as day. He calls annoyed saying to me that he was there downstairs and I told them told him it was open. He comes upstairs and I open the door and he looks at me taken back. He then says to me “tres belle tres belle babe” with a big smile and he forces me against the wall and makes out with me as I then push across to put him against the opposite wall ripping the clothing off each other. Then he throws me into my bed and eats my ass giving full eye contact not taking a second away from my eyes. I grab a condom and he put my legs over my head and fucked me until he ejaculated hard and loud filling the condom inside my slightly loosened ass. It was late he then slept over and we taxied to his place in the morning.

    Throughout the day he tattooed me it probably wouldn’t have taken so long if it wasn’t for me occasionally grabbing the cock and putting it in my mouth while I was laying face down in the leather chair in his tattoo studio. You’d think from the 5 hours of tattooing plus the stop and go of the job that I would have gotten sore. I honestly felt nothing, I was stoned out of my tree and I think from my thirst for the cock in my mouth kept my mind focused on other things. I just wanted to keep mauling the man, it’s not my fault I wanted him more and more as the time went on.   I think it was just the sexual tension between the both of us as the time went on.    It’s only natural though, hell he was tattooing my lower back and had my ass in his face for 5 hours.   What would you do?

    God that day was a adrenaline rush. Right when it was done he started cleaning up but some how me being bent over to pick up a article of clothing got him to manage his way into my ass again. I swear it’s like a open invitation half the time. I stood up against the wall in the studio and felt him throb inside my ass.

    Then the door knocks. Needless to say his tattoo studio was located inside of his home. I guess some friendly flirty neighbour of his was there to wish him well that week. I should have took it as a red flag he was a man whore. Then again I didn’t care since I was just considering it as a dick and go kind of thing at that time in knowing him. He answered the door with half of his clothes off but still cocky as usual saying hi then getting her gone and then going right back to me right where he left off.. After slowly starting to feel something growing that I couldn’t explain the effort for him to get to know me was more effort on his part as the drive went on. We arrived at my condo front door at the street and he said for me to have a goodnight and he enjoyed his day with me.


    I would continue but the rest of the story is just the month of the relationship that developed and out of respect for him I don’t believe anything else is needed from the story.   Maybe it’s because I still care for him partially or because I have humanity who knows.   But all I know is that is how I got the wings and the bow above my ass from one sexy french tattooed basterd.   Gave me a beautiful piece of art, could suck a mean dick, and knew how to make me smile where it was worth.



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