The drive seemed longer than its typical thirty minutes. Her heart raced. It wasn’t her first time, so she wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. Her eyes focused on each car that passed her by. A bead of sweat trickled down her brow.
She pulled up into a vacant spot. She stepped out of her car and lit up a joint. The smelly skunked odour sure packed a punch. She needed to slow her heart that pounded and smashed against her chest wall. She slumped against the curb and savoured the puffs. With each inhale, her heart slowed.
She rested her arms on her knees and her head rested lazily. She smiled when she recalled her first time. She was nervous but she knew she was ready. Everyone said that she should wait. They said she was too young. When she met him, she knew he was the one. He was experienced. She knew he wasn’t her first nor would she be his last.
She never forgot the pain and discomfort that first time. They sat outside to have a smoke together. He held her hand and made sure she was ok with it. He made her as comfortable as he could. He needed to make sure she was ready for her first time.
He undressed her. Carefully, slowly, he helped her out of her tee-shirt. She could have walked away but she wanted him to be her first. She nodded and he began. A lone tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away. She didn’t want him to think that she wasn’t ready.
A car horn, shook her from her memory. She opened the door and he smiled at her.
“I missed you. I haven’t seen you in a bit. Glad you’re here. Want a drink? Go to my room and I’ll be there in a sec,” he said with a wink.
“Ok. Last time I was sore for two weeks,” she said with concern.
He returned to his room. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. Are you sure you want to go through with this today? You could come another day if you like,” he said genuinely.
“No. It’s all right. I only want you to touch me,” she said. She sipped a glass of water nervously. She undid the button and slowly unzipped her zipper. She dropped her trousers and placed it on the bench. She lied down as he instructed. She tucked the extra pillow under her head. She looked up at him anxiously. His hand slowly caressed her knee and he slowly moved up to her hip. His hands were gentle and it gave her goosebumps.
He sprayed cold liquid and he smoothed and lifted the paper from her thigh. She smiled broadly.
“Ready. This dragon will be sick!” he said and placed his tattoo machine against her upper thigh.
Karen J. Mossman 