A long time ago, in a tattoo shop far, far away, there once worked a young lad who loved to show off his testicles. Well, not really, but here’s the story.
I was about a year and a half into the business, when this very attractive female came in with her boyfriend and her mother. She got a small tattoo on her ankle (keep in mind, back then I had to do all those hearts and roses just like everyone else). I set her up on a low table that was about the same height as the seat of my chair. I hung her ankle off the end, and hunched over to work with my elbows on my knees.
During the course of the tattoo, her boyfriend kept leaving the room and seemed to grow increasingly irritated for some strange reason. Also, her mother stood at the other end of the table next to her daughter, both of them staring intently at the tattoo I was creating. Or so I had thought. The boyfriend kept bugging the mother to go look at flash with him, but she wouldn’t budge from her daughter’s side.
“What a noble woman,” I thought. It didn’t dawn on me that while mother and daughter gazed so intently at this tattoo, the boyfriend was becoming a bigger and bigger baby. So, we wrapped it up and off they went. As they opened the door to my room to leave, I sat back in my chair and made a discovery.
I had been free ballin’ on that hot summer day, and as I sat back, I felt a breeze between my legs that seemed quite refreshing. For some reason, I looked down and found there was a tear in the crotch of my pants, and one entire testicle seemed to have found it way out into the open. I realized I had done the entire tattoo with my nut out. I then realized, that from the vantage point of mother and daughter. Just past the tattoo was one ripe ball and there was no way they didn’t see it.
Was I embarrassed? You figure it out. The thing is, the mom was pretty cute, too. At the end of the day, I guess I’m just another pervert.
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