Real Love

by Alexandria House

She was lying on the table while I stood over her, tattoo gun in hand, working on the L when a knock came at the door. Since we only used that room for tattoos that may have included exposing some intimate areas of the body, I made sure to keep the door closed and had instituted a strict knocking policy for all of the artists, including me.

  “Yeah, hold up!” I shouted at whoever it was. I got to a good stopping point and said to my client, “Hey, I’m sorry. Can you excuse me for a moment?”

  She looked up at me and nodded. “Can I sit up?”

  “Yeah, just keep your right leg like that.”

  I pulled my vinyl gloves off and walked over to the door, cracking it open to see Lola on the other side. “Hey, H. Sorry to interrupt you, but your friend from across the street is out here looking for you, and Rafiq’s ignorant ass won’t get out of her face.”

  I glanced back in the room. “Hey, I’ve got to step out for a second, Cynthia. I won’t be gone long.”

  “Okay,” she replied.

  I followed Lola out to the front of the shop where Denise stood by my station in a bright green blouse and a short, white skirt with a slit up the right thigh. My brother was standing over her looking like a hungry dog who’d just found a meaty-ass bone. “Hey, Denise,” I said, as I approached them. “Rafiq, step.”

  “Why you gotta come at me like that, big bro? Me and Denise here just catching up and shit.”

  “Man, if you don’t take your ass on…”

  Rafiq flapped his hand at me and smiled down at Denise. “I’ma catch you later.” He took about three steps away from us and stopped, folding his arms over his chest. I glared at him and he finally left, mumbling something I couldn’t make out.

  “This is a nice surprise,” I said, as I moved a little closer to her. She smelled so good.

  She grinned, lifting a plastic sack. “I brought you lunch.”

  “From your mama’s place?!” Shit, I was excited about that for real.

  “Yep. Fried catfish, French fries, and okra, with hushpuppies and a few pickled green tomatoes on the side.”

  “Damn! What I owe you?”

  “Nothing. Just returning the favor from when you brought me food the other week.”

  “Thanks. Hey, what’s been up with you? I’ve been meaning to come over there and check on you, but I’ve been swamped over here.”

  “Humph, with all your female clients?”

  I laughed. “Girl, what’re you talking about? I got male clients, too.”

  “Mm-hmm. About three to the three hundred females that come in here looking for you.”

  “Who told you that? Rafiq?”

  “Yep.”

  “He’s a damn hater.”

  Just then, another one of my clients walked through the door. I’d completed a huge, ornamental cross tattoo on her back a week earlier. “Hey, Asia!” I greeted her. “Denise, give me a second.”

  “Nah, you ain’t got to stop talking for me. I just wanted to tell you I’ve been getting mad compliments on the tat you did. I been wearing backless shirts like every day to show it off,” Asia said with a huge smile on her face.

  “That’s great! Hey, you mind showing my friend here?” I turned to Denise. “You wanna see my work in the flesh?”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  Asia turned around, her tattoo framed by a backless red blouse. I watched as Denise’s eyes widened. She stepped closer to Asia, closely inspecting the tattoo. “Wow,” she finally said. “You did that, H?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What kind of cross is that? I’ve never seen one so intricate,” Denise asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s a particular type. She just told me how she wanted it to look, and I tried my best to accommodate her.”

  “Shit, he did more than that! This tattoo is the bomb!” Asia said.

  I chuckled. “Thanks.”

  Denise looked up at me and shook her head. “H…I don’t know what to say. You’re an amazing artist.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “When you gon’ let me hook you up, then?”

  She looked at Asia’s back again, then at me. “You got time after you close tonight? I have a ton of work to do, but I can go home and change clothes and be here around ten-thirty or so. Y’all close at ten, right?”

  “Yeah, or until we’re done with whatever we’re doing. But if you’re gonna let me tat you up, shit, I’ll close this place early.”

  She smiled. “I’ll see you at ten-thirty.” As Asia turned to face us, Denise added, “That tattoo really is gorgeous on you.”

  “Thanks,” Asia replied with a big grin on her face. Turning to me, she said, “See, nothing but compliments.”

  I smiled, and as Asia continued gushing about the tattoo, I watched Denise walk across the street.

  *****

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  When she said she wanted a tattoo, I thought she meant a starter tattoo. You know, those little inconsequential tattoos people get just to say they have one, like a tiny heart on the wrist or their initial on their ankle? When Denise said she actually wanted Sister Africa on her back, my damn mouth dropped open. I asked her if she was sure about ten times. She was sure.

  But sitting there staring at her bare back, I wasn’t sure of a damn thing.

  She was sitting backwards in the chair at my station, legs open, back exposed, butt pushed toward me. She had pulled her t-shirt over her head and was wearing yoga pants that were straining against that ass of hers, the top of which was peeking at me. And I could tell she was wearing a thong.

  A damn thong.

  Shit!

  I just sat there, staring. How the hell was I supposed to work with my stuff as hard as a damn aluminum bat?

  She glanced back at me with a curious look on her face. “Something wrong?”

  I frowned. “Huh?”

  “I mean, I’ve been sitting here like this for a while now. What’re you doing? Visualizing the tattoo or something? Is this part of your process? If so, I don’t wanna rush you.”

  If I’d had any damn sense, I would’ve pretended that me sitting there drooling was a part of my process. Instead, I said, “No…Denise, I don’t think I can do this.”

  She craned her neck and looked me in the eye. “Why?”

  “Because, shit…because…Denise, if I touch you, we both might end up naked, because your back is turning me on like a motherfucker right now.”

  She turned around in the chair, her t-shirt dangling from her neck like a scarf or necklace or something, her huge breasts spilling over the top of a lacy white bra. I sucked in a breath and rested a hand on my erection.

  Her eyes followed my hand, and she raised her eyebrows. “Oh…”

  “Yeah…”

  She leaned forward. “What you wanna do with that thing?”

  I frowned. “Are you playing with me?”

  “No…but I will.”

  “Denise, for real?” I was trying not to get my hopes up too far.

  She nodded. “Yeah, for real.”

  She stood and attempted to slide into my lap, but I stopped her, and asked, “What changed?”

  She shrugged. “I just realized I might be missing out on something good by rejecting you.” She bent over and kissed me softly on the lips. “Now, we can talk, or we can play. It’s up to you. But as long as you have protection, I’m game.”

  I closed my eyes and smiled as I stood from my chair and dug into my back pocket for my wallet. I pulled a condom out and showed it to her.

  “It ain’t old as hell, is it?” she asked.

  I chuckled. “Nah, baby. It’s a fresh one.”

  Standing in front of me, she placed her hand over my crotch and smiled. “Good.”

  I leaned in and kissed her, pulling her close when she opened her mouth and allowed my tongue inside. I slid my hand down her back to that beautiful ass of hers and gripped a handful before pulling away from her, and saying, “
Take those pants off, baby.”

  She tilted her head to the side as she dropped her yoga pants and white thong in one move.

  “Now, sit down.”

  She sat in the chair and spread her legs without me even asking her to. I reclaimed my seat in front of her and scooted closer, easing my hand between her thick thighs, opening her lower lips, and smiling as I said, “Damn, you got a pretty one, baby.”

  “Mm, thank you,” she moaned.

  I dipped a finger inside of her while dipping my tongue back into her mouth. She gasped into my mouth as I slid my fingers in and out of her warm moistness. When I backed away, she grabbed my shirt and pulled me to her, kissing me like my mouth was her lifeline.

  I broke free. “Wait,” I said, glancing toward the windows and locked glass door that made up the front wall of my shop, suddenly realizing how exposed we were. “You wanna go in the back or in my office?”

  She shook her head at me and reached between us, rubbing my erection through my pants. “No.”

  “Uh…want me to at least turn the lights off? Your mom still next door?”

  “No, she’s gone, and I really don’t give a shit who else sees us.”

  “Neither do I.”

  I sat there for a second and stared at her.

  “What?” she asked, a look of concern on her face.

  “If we’re seen, it probably won’t affect my business, but it might affect yours…”

  She leaned in, pressed her lips to my neck, and glided her tongue over my tattoo. “I still don’t give a shit.”

  Damn, now that really turned me on.

  I reached for her hand. “Come here, baby.”

  Under the bright overhead lights in my shop with cars passing by on the street, she followed me to the floor, lying on her back and opening wide for me as I ripped the wrapper off the condom, yanked my pants down, and covered myself. I stretched my body over hers, pulled her bra over her breasts, and took my time licking and sucking each of them as she wrapped her arms around me, rubbing her hands up and down the cloth of the t-shirt covering my back.

  “Take this off,” she said.

  I pulled the t-shirt off and went back to work on her breasts while she rubbed the big letter P that was tattooed on my chest, representing my last name.

  A few seconds later, she murmured, “Give it to me, baby. Give it to me now.”

  I kissed her again and slowly entered her as she wrapped those thick thighs around me. She sucked in a breath as I eased out and back in again, this time deeper. With every stroke, I buried myself deeper and deeper inside of her, picking up the pace and nearly losing all control at the sensation of her heat surrounding me until she finally screamed, “Shit!”

  I slowed up, and asked, “Am I hurting you, baby?”

  “Yessss,” she whined.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give it all to you like that. You want me to stop?”

  She grabbed me, holding me tight. “No…please-don’t-stop.”

  “Okay…”

  I slid in and out of her, trying to be as gentle as I could and not bury my full length inside of her, but damn, she just felt so good. So, before long, I was grinding deep again while she screamed my name over and over. And when she wasn’t screaming my name, she was telling me not to stop.

  I didn’t plan on it.

  I gave her all of me and put that shit on repeat, licked and sucked her neck, slid my hand between us and played with her clit. She felt so damn good, all I could say was, “Denise…”

  She jerked and shuddered on two separate occasions before I finally released and collapsed onto the floor beside her.

  As I lay there trying to catch my breath, she said, “Damn.”

  22

  I wasn’t ready.

  At. All.

  I was no virgin. Well, shit, I wasn’t a ho’, either. I could count all of my sexual partners on one hand—okay, two hands, or eight fingers at most—but it wasn’t like good sex and big penises were foreign to me.

  But daaaaaaaaamn!

  Hasaan was EVERYTHING. Had me walking all crazy the next day. I kept having flashbacks and shit while trying to do my work. Couldn’t keep my eyes off of his shop, the scene of the crime my ass wanted to recommit over and over again. I wanted to become a habitual offender, a repeat felon, a damn career criminal. It wasn’t just that he was blessed with girth and length, but shit, that was definitely a HUGE plus. And it wasn’t just that he knew exactly what to do with it or how to handle me or how to hit my spot over and over again, but he was also caring and gentle and fine as hell, and his kisses were like some addictive drug. I felt like sending Greer and Trevia thank-you cards for encouraging me to give Hasaan a chance. Shit, I felt like sending myself a card for having enough sense to take their advice. It had taken a few days for me to figure out a way to let him know I was ready to pull him out of the friend zone I had put him in, and what I did come up with was weak—taking him lunch. But hey, it gave me an excuse to see him without looking thirsty. And then he showed me that tattoo, and I could think of nothing else but how fly I would look with some of his artwork on my body. The thought did cross my mind that the time it took him to complete Sister Africa would allow us to get to know each other better, too, but having sex so quickly hadn’t crossed my mind. Shit, why am I lying? Of course, the thought crossed my mind. The thought of having sex always crossed my mind when I was in his presence. The man was too sexy to deny that.

  As I sat there with my bare back to him, all kinds of thoughts were running through my head, but most of them were about how bad it was going to hurt for that needle to pierce my skin. I was actually having second thoughts, so his sitting back there prolonging things by delaying the actual tattooing was irking me a little. I was actually poised to either go off on him or get up and leave, but I kept telling myself not to act a fool with the man, because it wasn’t like I was an artist and I’d never had a tattoo done before. So I asked him about the process, and when he finally told me what he was feeling and showed me that big bulge in his pants, it felt like a vat of heated liquid instantly flooded my coochie. And well, let’s just say I was suddenly afflicted with a severe case of tunnel vision, and at the end of that tunnel was Hasaan’s incredible penis. And now I couldn’t stop thinking about it or him. So I went back across the street for him to “work on my tattoo” every night after Elite Ink closed for a whole week. And I enjoyed every minute of it. I wasn’t sure if we were just fulfilling lustful desires or if we were building towards real love, but one thing I did know was I didn’t want to stop doing whatever it was we were doing.

  Lying on the cold floor of Elite Ink trying to catch my breath, I rolled over on my side and let my eyes roam over Hasaan’s gorgeous body of chiseled muscle in the moonlight.

  He glanced at me, his chest rapidly rising and falling. “You okay?”

  “Yeah...better than okay,” I responded.

  He shifted his eyes to the ceiling and smiled as he reached up to wipe sweat from his brow. “Me, too.”

  Returning his focus to me by rolling over on his side to face me, he said, “I wanna take you out. You know, we can get dressed up and go out for a night on the town.”

  “Where would we go?”

  He shrugged. “We can go wherever you want and do whatever you want. I just wanna show your fine ass off.”

  I giggled as I scooted closer to him and kissed him. Then I pushed him onto his back and straddled him. “The only place I want to be is right here, and the only thing I wanna do is you.”

  *****

  “Hey, I missed you,” I said, as he opened the door for me. It was the truth, even though we were just together the night before.

  “Hmm,” was his response. “Come on back so we can get started on your tat.”

  I grinned and said, “Yes, sir,” figuring we were going back there because Lola still had a client at her station even though it was past closing time. I waved at her as I followed Hasaan to the back of the shop.


  Once we were in the back room, I pulled my blouse over my head and turned around so he could unfasten my bra since I knew he liked doing that. He quickly unhooked it, and I turned to face him and wrapped my arms around his hard body, stretching up to flick my tongue across the H on his neck. His body was stiff and his voice strained as he said, “Lie down on the table.”

  Oh, so we’re getting right to it tonight? Fine with me. I climbed up on the table, lying on my back.

  “Turn over,” he commanded.

  I quickly obeyed him, closing my eyes in anticipation of what he was about to do to me. And then I felt something cold on my back. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “Cleaning your back.”

  “Oh…okay.” Well, this is different…

  “Next, I’m gonna make a sketch as a guide before I start inking with the tattoo gun.”

  He actually started writing on my back. What the hell?

  I sat up and faced him.

  “Shit, you made me drag the pen across your back.”

  “H, what are you doing?” I asked, looking him in the eye.

  “I just told you.”

  “Since when did you working on my tattoo turn into you actually working on my tattoo?”

  “Since you started treating me like I’m some sorry-ass fuck boy or something.”

  “What?”

  “Look, I’m not looking for just a fuck buddy, Denise.”

  “And I am?”

  “That’s what it looks like to me.”

  I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about how when I tried to take you out, you said you’d rather have sex.”

  “Shit, H! Your sex is good, par excellent! Of course I wanna have sex with you. I thought you felt the same way.”

  “I do...but I want to build something real with you. How are we supposed to do that if the only conversations we have consist of, ‘Give it to me, Daddy,’ and, ‘Shit, this pussy is good’?”

  I dropped my eyes and sat there for a minute, trying to pretend to myself that he was wrong when I knew he wasn’t. I had subconsciously slid him into the booty call slot and I knew why. So I said, “I’m sorry, H. I think...I didn’t mean to make you a fuck buddy. I think I’m just afraid of being disappointed.”