I used to think I was just a normal guy. And in terms of appearance, I am. There is nothing special about me at all - average height, average build, dull hair and eyes and a need for glasses just to complete the look. The only thing that isn't average is my cock - it's nine inches long, and thick with it. I haven't made much of an impact on the world, either. I still live in the town I was born, even though all my family moved away a long time ago. I live in a small flat above the shop I run and my social circle is pretty small.
But I am not as average as it may seem. You see, I have a talent. It isn't one that will make me win one of those TV talent shows. It isn't one I can just show off to anyone. But I have it.
It all has to do with my cum. Yes, you did read that right. Once it touches someone's skin, that person starts to do exactly what I say. Not only that, they also become horny as all hell. Being the type of guy I am (a loner) it took me a while to discover this ability. In fact, it wasn't until I was at college that it became apparent there was something different about me.
For a long time after I discovered this talent, I was too scared to use it. I started off by visiting hookers and getting the sex for free when I tell them I don't want to pay. But that began to pall quite quickly. There were so many beautiful women around town and I could have any of them ... if I could just get them to touch my cum. They didn't even have to swallow it - all it takes is a touch on the skin.
But how could I do that? I couldn't very well just throw it around. And even if I carefully brushed against them in the street, it could have led to some awkward questions when they began to follow me. I considered going to a bar and spiking their drinks, but soon thought better of it. It was far too risky and I didn't want to risk a stint in jail. It was only when I heard a woman talking about her disappointment at a new tattoo that it hit me. Of course! I could do something perfectly legal, something that would bring these babes to me. I had always had a flair for art, even though I didn't study it at college. It didn't take me long to get the necessary licenses and my shop was open. Even better, it came with an upstairs flat so if my plan worked out I wouldn't have far to go to get some privacy.
And work my plan did! Things may have gotten off to a slow start and most of my early customers were men, but when word got around that I was good at what I did, the women soon flocked to me.
I had two sets of ink. One was normal, that I used on men, and women I didn't find attractive. The other was kept hidden away and contained an extra ingredient - my cum. The first time I tried it out, I was a little nervous. She was an older woman, probably mid-forties, but still in good shape despite having had a couple of kids. She was cheerful and chatty but seconds after the needle touched her skin for the first time, she went quiet and began to moan to herself. I saw her pupils dilate and I knew I had her. As soon as I was sure, I told her to come up to my flat. I'm embarrassed to say, I didn't last too long that first time. It was the excitement at finding out my plan would work. Or at least that's the excuse I'm sticking with. She went to work on my cock with her mouth and in no time at all I was firing a load of cum down her throat. I had gotten carried away so much I even forgot to finish her tattoo. Who knows what her husband or kids thought of the barely half-done Celtic symbol on her right arm.
As time went by and I settled into my new lifestyle, I became much better at it. I'll give you an example of one of my earlier conquests.
I never found out her name. I remember her well though, mostly because of her red hair. Even though it had clearly come out of a bottle, it still looked damn good on her. From the second she walked in through my front door, I knew I had to have her. She had big, firm tits, the tops of which her strappy red top left bare. They looked like they wanted to burst out of her bra. Her face was pretty too, with full, red lips and green eyes.
I stood up behind the counter. There was no one else in the shop so I was able to give her my full attention ... which I fully intended to do. "Hello," I said. "How can I help you?" A stupid question, as she was hardly likely to come into a shop like this looking for a sandwich, but it was my usual greeting and I was sticking to it.
"I heard you're good at tattoos," she said. She looked a little sceptical as she eyed me.
"I hope so. Otherwise I won't be in business very long! Seriously though, I haven't had any complaints yet and with the amount of customers I've had that has to say something, doesn't it? So, what sort of tat do you want and where do you want it? I can do just about anything."
She pulled out a piece of paper. "I want a rose done, like this one here. And I want it on my right side just below my armpit."
I looked at the picture she offered me. It was just a standard rose, no different to hundreds I had done before. Just an outline, not even a coloured one. I could have done it in my sleep. "Of course, I can do that for you right now. Do you want to come through to the back?"
I guided her through a door into the rear of the shop. I then closed the door with its "Busy" sign hanging on it to stop us getting disturbed. In the back room, there was a cabinet with bottles of all different colours of ink - and a locked compartment with my special ink as well, of course. And in the middle of the room was the customers' chair. It was a leather recliner, adaptable to lots of different positions.
