The New Tattoo

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I hadn’t been to the gym in a while, so it felt good to just do a simple workout. In the locker room I ran into a former workout buddy who I hadn’t seen in quite a while. Tom and I exchanged a few “Whatcha been up tos” and got caught up some, and he noticed my arm. “New Ink? Looks great. I don’t think I have seen that one before. A knockout of a vintage pinup. Vargas?” It was only a month or so old. But the story goes back a lot further. “I said yeah, I guess it might be his, but it is one of a kind, for sure.”

The image was a mostly black and white nude of a 1940’s era blonde with what best could be described as a wistful look. “Haunting” was what some had commented when they first saw it. They probably didn’t know how close they were to the truth!

Tom continued looking “Wow. I bet there is a story behind it, and from the look on your face, I’m guessing it’s something. C’mon, let’s go grab a drink and you can fill me in.” I could fill him in, but I wasn’t sure he’d believe me, or that anyone would. But hey, I was thirsty.

Tom and I went to a bar and got a couple of beers and sat in a booth. “We might need a pitcher, this could be a bit of a story.” and I started.

I do a little metal detecting. Just here and there, nothing serious, but have found a few things, coins, buckles, run of the mill things. Not many people know it, I’m not in a club or anything like that. So, this one day I am looking out back of my house. I live outside of town, have a couple acres and in the back there is an old foundation. Probably an old garage or shed, whatever, but it dates to the 1920’s or so. The previous owners used it to burn trash and compost leaves. As I said, I’m looking out there and I thought I saw some movement. Too big for squirrels, I thought. Maybe a deer. Eating the rest of my bushes. I watched and it wasn’t a dear, but an old lady. Must have been 80. Right away I’m thinking “Silver Alert”. Probably wandered away from the senior place a mile or so down the road. Checked the phone and there was nothing.

It was around June, so I didn’t need to grab a coat or anything, I just went out to see what she was doing. She had her back to me as I approached and it startled me a bit when she said “Hello. Maybe you can help me.” without turning around. I may not be the lightest thing on my feet, but I wasn’t making a lot of noise. It creeped me out a little. Maybe a little more than a little.

“Well, sure, maybe I can. What do you need? I’m Dave, by the way. This is my land.” She turned, and was definitely 80, but must have been pretty back in the day. Good bones as they say. “Oh, I know, my family lived her a long time ago! I believe I lost something here. Just came back to see if it was still here. By the looks of it, probably not.” Her voice trailed off. “Do you need me to call someone for you? Some help getting back to…” I left it open for her to finish. She just looked at me, smiled and said “No, I am fine. I’ll be going now. I’m Laurie. Thanks for coming out to check, I just wanted to see.” She began walking away. Quite well. I hoped I could get around like that at 80. Hell I hope I can do that at 60! I watched which way she walked and went back inside and called the Township police. No missing persons, no silver alerts, but they would have their patrols check the direction she was heading “just in case”.

I didn’t think much more about the incident for a while. But one Saturday I had an idea. She had “lost” something in the area of the shed. Maybe it was metal. So I grabbed the detector, a shovel, some water and went to the back. A few hours later I had found a small mountain of tinfoil, some metal bands from a barrel, an old road sign, beer cans and a couple of pennies that you couldn’t make out the details. Nice haul. I was filthy and a little tired. Esenyurt Escort But I figured a few more passes wouldn’t hurt. It was a nice summer’s day and I could consider it exercise.

I got a large ‘beep’ a little bit away from where I had been digging and dug down. I dug a bit and finally got a “clunk” as I hit something, at least it wasn’t tinfoil. A little more digging and I found a metal box! About a foot long and maybe 5 inches wide it appeared to have been in the ground a while. And it was locked. The lock was part of the box, and the hole was completely filled with dirt. I figured this was a good time to stop, so I carried the box, my tools and the pennies back to the house. The tinfoil could stay, maybe the deer would take it.

I took the box in and cleaned it up some. It was a little rusted, but not bad considering it had been in the ground for quite a while. It was locked, but it was a classic old tin box. In my subtle manner I pried it open with a ‘whack’ from a screwdriver. Visions of gold coins or stock certificates rolled through my mind. But what was inside might actually have been better.

I looked at Tom over our empty beers. He was still awake and actually listening! I told him to get that pitcher of beer. I had a bit more to tell.

Tom returned with the pitcher. So much for the workout benefits. But I had been wanting to tell someone this story for a while. Maybe I would leave a few parts out. Oh hell, Tom knew me well enough.

“Thanks.” I said as he poured us another round, and I continued.

The box opened with a little reluctance, and inside were a few old bills – maybe $50 total and a stack of what looked like old photos. I turned them over, and that is what they were, a few of a family, I am sure a long since deceased group, and then they got interesting. The next batch were maybe a dozen nudes. One of them is the tattoo you see on my arm. Great black and white, some were that brownish – sepia tone – I think it is called. At any rate, they were hot. Two of them actually showed a couple, my guess they were in their 20s, around the 1940s. About to engage in some fun, oral sex and a good fuck session! Damn, vintage porn! Looking closer, the nudes made me stop and think. She looked familiar. It couldn’t be, but, was it? If I squinted a little, it sure could have been the daughter of the old lady who I had found in my yard.

I put them back and went off to clean up. Later on I dug them out again. They had held up well in that box. I looked them over and took a picture of the one that inspired the tattoo with my phone. I went through them again, imagining the scene, the times.

Obviously the content seeped into my subconscious that night as I slept. If you are familiar with the concept of a ‘succubus’, I was definitely visited. You could also simplify things and just say I had a wet dream. A hell of a detailed wet dream.

As I was sleeping, I felt a hand on my thigh. In my dream, I woke up and standing next to my bed was that woman in the photos, her hand on my upper thigh and the other to her lips signalling “shhhh…” I watched as she pulled my shorts down releasing my stiffening cock. It grew with every beat of my heart which was starting to beat faster. I could see her looking at it and a smile crossed her face. It throbbed and was fully erect. I tried to move, but I was pinned to the bed. Not restrained, but I just couldn’t move a muscle, well, no muscle but one.

As I watched she lowered her mouth to my belly. Kissing it softly and moving lower. She was naked and her breasts were a milky white in the moonlight. Hard nipples surrounded by soft pink circles. Her tight ass would be wonderful to touch, to rub, so close, but I couldn’t reach it.

Her mouth went lower. I saw her İstanbul Escort pink tongue dart out and tease the tip of my cock. I was starting to leak a little pre cum, she took it in one swipe of her tongue, leaving a little wetness from her tongue. The feeling was exquisite. I couldn’t move, but didn’t feel like I wanted to. I could see everything before me. She looked at me and then took me full into her mouth, closing her lips around as she went down on my dick, taking it all into her mouth, sucking hard as she slowly let it come out covered in her wet saliva.

Her hands were on either side of my hips as her head bobbed up and down. Occasionally she would look up into my eyes and suck even harder. I started to feel the excitement of an orgasm start to swell up, but she stopped for a moment, lay my cock down with her hand until the feeling diminished some and then she began again. This dance of bringing me to the brink of cumming and pulling back went on for several turns, I guess it is like a tantric session, but then she went back to her fabulous sucking and tonguing of my rock hard dick. This time I felt the urge begin and she didn’t stop, but continued even faster. I started to squirt, and her mouth covered my cock completely, taking it all in. I came like I had never cum before, wave after wave. I felt like I could pass out. If I had been awake.

She lifted her head, swallowed and stood up. Her naked body was gorgeous in the moonlight. Erect nipples, a taut torso and a full bush between her legs, I guess you might call it ‘classic beauty’ like you see in a marble statue. She turned and walked away, her fine ass wiggling as I watched.

I woke up a bit later, and as I remembered the dream, I expected to find that I needed to change my shorts. I sat up, but my shorts were lost there in the bed, and I was dry. No ‘nocturnal emission’ to be found as I usually had after a dream like that. Wow, what a dream. No fuss, no muss, no mess.

I had put the box away, and honestly forgot about it since I was busy for the next week or so.

Then one morning I saw movement out back again – yes, you guessed it, the old lady was back. I went out to check on her and as I approached, she turned and looked at me. Those eyes. I had seen them before. Time may have changed the skin and hair, but not those eyes.

“Dave, I believe you found what I misplaced. I would like it now.” It was not a threat, but it was also not negotiable judging by her tone. I invited her in, but she preferred to stay in the yard. I went in and got the box and gave it to her. She saw that it had been opened, but instead of being mad, a knowing look came my way. I hurried to add “Everything is in there. I didn’t take anything out.”

She just added “Thank you” and turned. As I had felt during that night, I couldn’t move – not restrained, but like my muscles just couldn’t hear the command. She was gone in a few moments.

Since then I have researched who had lived at the property, talked to other neighbors, even asked the police again if there were an old ladies named ‘Laurie’ reported missing. Nothing. Not a clue to be had, just dead ends.

Then I remembered I had taken the photo of the one picture on my phone – sure enough, it was still there! I wasn’t dreaming the whole thing, it HAD happened! That’s when I had the idea for the tattoo. So I wouldn’t – couldn’t – forget.

I went to the local tattoo guy who had gotten good reviews from a few friends, he did his own artwork, and judging from the samples in his studio, he was pretty good. I showed him the picture on my phone and he asked if I minded if he printed it out to look closer. He studied the photo a bit and said “Yeah, I can do this. You wouldn’t have the original, would you?” I said I didn’t “does it Beylikdüzü Escort matter?” He replied, “No, but my guess is this is part of the Alfred Cheney Johnston collection. He did the Ziegfield girls, and a lot of others. He died about forty years ago, and left this huge collection. But haven’t seen this one. Nice. Might be worth a few bucks.”

We worked out when I could come back and see what he had and maybe get started. But best of all, I had a clue of a lead. Maybe I could find who that old lady was, probably the subject of the photo.

I went home and looked forward to taking the leap and having the ink done. I wasn’t sure where it should go, was thinking of one of the biceps, couldn’t decide on right or left. Just knew it wasn’t going on a butt cheek.

That night I again had a visit from the girl in the picture. I “awoke” with her standing above me by the bed and again she motioned “Shhhh…” with a finger to her lips. She again lowered my shorts and attended to my rising cock with her hands, rubbing it, stroking it until it seemed it would burst. She certainly knew how to make my dick hard.

As before, I couldn’t move, but could only watch as she stroked me. Her breasts jiggled some as her hand and arm moved up and down. She seemed intent on watching my member enlarge and grow, but then she turned and looked at me. Those eyes! They burrowed into mine. The connection was not only her hand on me, but through that look.

She stopped her rubbing and moved to the bed. She straddled me and I could see her pink pussy above my hard cock. Her hand slid the tip to her opening and she mounted me, taking me in as deep as it would go. Her cunt felt like it was sucking me as adeptly as she had with her mouth. She rocked back and forth, sliding on and off me. I wasn’t so much sliding into her as she was sliding on to me enveloping me inside her. I watched her face, it glowed. Eyes closed, lips together, a faint smile. She rocked faster I felt the urge to cum grow inside me, I knew I would explode, shooting hot gobs of cum inside her, deep inside her. Her mouth opened and I could sense she was close as well, as I started to spasm and cum I felt her pussy grasp on to me in waves. It seemed like I gushed for minutes on end. She pressed her hot cunt on my dick taking it in as far as it could. She collapsed on my chest but we remained joined as one at a common point.

After an exquisite moment, she got up and dismounted me and stepped off the bed. I watched as she turned, but then she turned back and looked deep into my eyes. Her hand reached out and touched my arm, my upper right arm. She smiled and then turned and walked away. Out the door of my room, and presumably out of my life.

The next day I knew where the tattoo would go. No doubt about it, had to be the right arm. I also decided to do a little digging into that A. C. Johnston. I’ll spare you the two months of following leads and dead ends, but I did find a listing of his subjects and clients and models. Only two were anywhere near this area, so I found some current addresses and arranged a couple of meetings.

The first was not promising, the grandson of the person in question produced a picture of his relatives. “This was a picture that they had done, maybe by that Johnston guy. He was supposed to be a big deal, at least that is what my mom said. A “handsome” woman as the saying goes, definitely not the woman I had seen in that photo or in my dreams.

I knew I had the right lead when I met the second person. I arrived at the house and knocked on the door. It was opened by the woman in the photo, an updated hairstyle, but it was her. “Hello, I’m Laurie. I’m the grandniece of the woman you said you were looking for. Won’t you come in?” I nearly fell in, but I did come in.

Tom looked at me and at the empty pitcher. He said “Well, whether or not the story is true, it’s a fantastic tattoo. And worth the cost of the pitcher.” I smiled, but I didn’t tell him that Laurie and I were meeting this Friday for dinner. I hoped her namesake might come along as a chaperone.

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