I've been working out and weight lifting since I was seventeen. I was a pudgy little pussy back then. My prom date lost a bet and had to take the fatty. I was flattered before I found out about the bet he lost. Stupid boy... He was supposed to seduce me in his car in the park, but I tricked him. I told him I needed room to get undressed. The stupid shit got out of his car and I locked the doors behind him until the cops found us in the park.
I was pissed, and started working out the very next day. Now my body is chiseled. I'm a Mexican goddess, my body toned and my muscle definition to die for. I have a string of boys that salivate in the palm of my hand. If I sense any of them losing interest, I give them a hand job. They get to paint my face with their creamy white cum and it keeps them happy and interested. Their spunk contrasts with my naturally bronze skin and the jet black tattoos that I have on my upper left quadrant. My little fuck toy boys want to see all of my tats, but all they ever get is glimpses.
If my tattoo artist quits, retires, or dies, I will be seriously fucked. Little by little I have covered two quadrants of my body with geometric/tribal patterns a bit at a time. Upper left and lower right. He's a genius and I let him fuck me whenever he inks me. He's got a lovely dick covered in tattoos. Oh God I love watching his dick sink into my cunt. I think it was inked while he was hard. One day I will have him tattoo my anus. I can't wait until he sinks that lovely dick of his into my ass.
But I digress. What I really want to talk about is the time I posed for BBB Galleries; that bitch Zsa Zsa. If I ever catch her alone I will finger fuck her and fist her until she cums to death while I rape her mouth with my cunt. I swear.
Okay, maybe it was my own fault that I called the number on the flier. Maybe it was my own fault that I agreed to meet her for the interview. Maybe it was my own fault that I signed that fucking contract to get paid for that fucking art that she was going to perpetrate on my stupid ass. Ignore the fact that I came like a bitch in heat at the end. I know what edging means now. I will never fucking do something like that again!
I'm sorry. I'm having trouble sticking to the point. I should be telling you about my session instead of dwelling on what that cunt put me through. Fuck! Oh God, I'm cumming again! Dammit, I should be telling you why you need to avoid answering that bitch's ads to pose for her.
I thought I had learned my lesson with that stupid boy that took me to my prom. But, No! I called Hayley and I went for the interview with Zsa Zsa Azzanti. I thought it would be a big break for me. I think it fucking broke me instead. I went because I wanted the pesos for finishing my ink. I wanted to have a spread in the magazine -- Body And Ink.
I showed up for the interview on time. I walked through the exhibits at the gallery. None of the models in the artwork had tats like me. I remember thinking that I wouldn't qualify because of my body art. I was prepared to argue with her about that. First thing she says is that I need to undress and there is a robe I can wear to the studio for the interview. Robe? I'm here to get ready for people to worship my body. Fuck the robe!
First of all, the studio was kind of cool from being air conditioned. It was warmer in the dressing room. The studio was cooler. I prefer heat actually, so right off, my nipples were hard because of the different temperature. But I thought that might work in my favor.
Zsa Zsa said, "That's good darling. Bra and panty lines already faded."
"I don't wear no panties or bra, they get in the way of my toning reps."
"Very good, darling, tell me more. I see good muscle definition. You have strength too?"
I said, "Hell yeah," and I flexed my pecs making my tits bob up and down. I also flexed one at a time. I think it looks better on my chest than it does on The Rock.
Zsa Zsa smiles and continues, "Delightful darling, you are comfortable with public nudity then, yes?"
The interview was not exactly going the way I expected it, but it didn't seem to be going badly either. I started getting my hopes up. "Yeah, do I get the job?" My hopes dipped again when she asked another question.
Zsa Zsa held a light meter up to my chest, both sides, inked and not, "Do you masturbate darling?" She continued measuring with the meter over several other places on my body while waiting for my answer.
"Yeah, sure, don't everybody?"
Zsa Zsa ran a finger along my damp slit. "Show me darling. Show me how fast you can orgasm."
I wasn't sure why the artist wanted to see that, but if it landed me this job I figured it would be worth it. My nipples were already rock hard, so in order to get that first spark all I had to do was roll one between my fore-finger and thumb, twist and pull, kind of like pinching off a section of Twizzlers candy. While I was doing that I stretched my vulva open between the middle fingers on my other hand, slowly rubbed down and then up a couple of times, then three and four more until the moisture built up.
For me that was just easing up off the clutch and engaging first gear. Just like a car, I didn't want to over rev my engine in first gear. To switch into second gear all I had to do was drag those same fingers back up all the way to my clit and clamp it pulling the little girl up and pushing it back down grinding like that way a dozen strokes or so. And there it was, right where I was expecting it, that slow twitch of my thighs like I wanted to ride something. My left foot settled on the rung of the stool there on the pedestal.
I started feeling my groove and leaned into it. My eyelids slid slowly down. Now I was getting ready to switch into the next gear. I imagined my tat artist's cock, rock hard. The tat looking like the threads of a screw getting ready to impale me, wide bulbous tip nudging my clit, pressing my button first, tap, tap, tap, tapping just like my fingers are doing. The carpenter is getting ready to pound the screw in with a hammer. My cunt is starting to drip, my juices running down my leg as my thighs start to quiver.
I no longer see the studio I'm standing in, just that beautiful threaded cock. I'm going to mimic it with my fingers of course since that lovely piece of meat is hanging somewhere else, but I'm wet enough I can slam them home as I hunker down and I start riding my hand. I go slow but steady at first until the juices build up in the palm of my hand and it starts making squishing, squelching noises against my clit. I steady myself against the stool with my other hand and my hips are rocking now.
I lose myself in the cacophony of loud panting and wet rapid-fire slapping of my palm against my mound as I'm rapidly fucking my cunt with my hand. And finally, there it goes, that electric jolt from the tip of my clit to the root on down around my fingers and through my asshole. "Gah!" My hips locked, ass clenched, bunghole puckered. I'm in overdrive now and all that's left is rooting around and grinding and digging and mashing and jabbing at my g-spot until I rocket past the checkered flag in a flash of light and take my victory lap; my butt splashing against the floor.
After that I can see Zsa Zsa Azzanti again grinning and clapping at my performance, "Marvelous darling! I've got just the exhibit for you! Come to my office and I get paperwork ready."
I caught my breath and staggered back to the dressing room where I pulled my clothes back on. My cunt was still soaked, but that wasn't something I hadn't dealt with before. All I would need to do would be a visit to the gym to work off the excess adrenaline. I needed some thigh work too so I wouldn't fall on my ass again after masturbating like that.
In her office, she asked if I had any questions. All I wanted to know was how soon I would be available for people to worship my body. I knew some people who would pay for the proofs I assumed I would end up with; people with connections to a magazine I could show my ink. One of them was Freddy. He was a fun fuck too. Anyway, she told me that there was one other model that would be doing the exhibit before mine. I would have to wait for probably 6 or 7 weeks.
With that advance check in my hand, I was giddy. I could finally get my clit and labia inked. Three diamonds on the right side of my clit, three chevron stripes on my right labia; it was going to be glorious. I was squirming just thinking about it, that needle piercing against my tender spots. So much delicious torture and orgasms at the hands of my tat artist; I wanted that so much! I didn't really pay much attention to anything else and signed the contract. I was set for somewhere between 3 and 4 hours.
I left the studio and went straight to the gym and pumped all my adrenaline out until it was time for my shower. I was calmer after my workout, made my way to the bank to cash that check from the studio and finally to see my tat artist. He left me with a delicious memory of his balls slapping against the half of my clit and labia that were still puffy from being inked when he fucked me after that. He let me sleep it off in the studio, on display for the other customers the rest of the day, while his cum dripped out.
The waiting period until my exhibition should give my pussy enough time to normalize after getting inked. At least a couple of weeks to heal, then I'd have to get back into my workout routine. I spent the time getting caught up with my course work at the university. When I was able to get back to my workout routine, I heard rumors about the previous exhibition. I'd missed it while I was in the library and school admin was pissed that it was televised all over campus. I found myself hoping they wouldn't be able to do anything to stop my exhibition from being televised. I got damp thinking about all the people that would see me in all my glory while I came for them.
Not long after, I got a call from the studio. They needed me to go see a tailor for getting some measurements. I thought that was funny since I wasn't going to be wearing any clothing, but I went there and the man took my measurements. It was weird. The guy made me creep out because he didn't seem interested in my body at all, just making sure my measurements were accurate. I figured maybe he was gay or something. I was accustomed to getting hit on by a lot of guys that I have met, but no sense of desire or anything from him.
I shrugged it off and started working out again. My aim was to make sure I was buff for the viewers and I had to make up for the time I wasn't working out after getting my pussy inked. I drove myself hard. Working out also helped me build up my sexual tension, so I tried not to masturbate as much while I waited. I wanted to be ready to have a monster orgasm on camera. But then I had second thoughts. The exhibition was supposed to last between 3 and 4 hours. I began to wonder if I could go that long masturbating.
I experimented and timed myself. My first experiment only lasted an hour and a half going my normal speed while I did so. Damn! My next experiment I tried slow stroking it, drawing out the session as long as I could. I made it just over two hours before I gave up with a sore puffy over sensitive pussy. An exhibit of three hours would make me a really sore whore. If I had to go longer, I expected I'd be crying at the end. I called the gallery to express my concerns to Zsa Zsa.
"Zsa Zsa? Juanita here."
