The Tattoo Monster
As Mary came down the stairs she saw him immediately. Tony was six-nine at least. He was broad across the shoulders, a massive man. She noticed him even though he was seated, alone. Tony wore a loose white shirt and jeans, but his tattoos were obvious. They covered his body, his arms, neck and chest. However, he was incredibly neat and well-manicured, his hair was caught back into a ponytail that hung down to the base of his neck. She unexpectedly caught her breath and paused at the bottom of the stairs.
Her husband appeared at her elbow. He guided her towards the guests he wanted her to meet. He needed her smile and astonishing beauty to calm his investors in his new colossal real estate development. She loved and hated the project. Loved the money they made, but hated that it often yanked her husband away. Her skin-tight red dress, black heels and a thick solid gold necklace at her throat furnished her with amazing confidence. As she charmed the investors, she wandered around the party, and once again glimpsed the giant sitting alone squeezing the life out of his beer. She grabbed a fresh one, and headed over to him.
“Want a cold one?” she offered.
“This is my second, I really shouldn’t!”
His voice growled like a bear from inside a cave. It was raw, rough and threatening in some way. Tony’s voice sent a shiver down her spine. Her laugh was forced and tinkled lightly. She stretched out her arm and at arm’s length continued to offer the beer. Tony smiled and took the beer. His hand closed over her soft skin and the bottle of the beer, and both her hand and the beer disappeared in his mighty hand. She had let go of the beer and pulled her hand away. Her skin scraped against the coarse calluses of his working class hand. She visibly shivered again.
“You cold,” he rumbled.
The nervous laugh covered her embarrassment. She could never tell him that his voice, and hands had made her horny! She was making a soft excuse, but wanted to know why he was at this party.
“You’ve met Tony!” her husband said as he appeared at her side.
“Tony, right!” her sing-song voice betraying her to husband.
“This is the woman who will help you Tony,” he said.
Tony grunted a reply.
“Help you with what Tony?” she asked him.
“Tony is taking part in a photo shoot tomorrow. You see he was the most wonderful body art all over his body,” continued the husband, “And some “service group” has asked him to document this art. Now I agreed to help Tony.”
“…And where do I come in?” she chipped in with that sing-song voice of nervous wonder.
“Well you see, Tony will have to be naked for this shoot,” he continued without flinching, “But Tony is a little modest. He will not allow his penis to be photographed.”
Both men looked at her almost expectantly. She looked from one to the other.
“…And!?” she demanded.
The silence between the two men went on for a while too long. Tony’s eyes did not flinch as he watched her, she returned his gaze and counted the tiny teardrops around both of his eyes to avoid looking into his eyes.
“I am sending a car,” continued hubby, “It will get you at nine in the morning. You will wear a comfortable sweat suit, and take along your yellow bikini, the one we bought in the Caribbean last year. The one with those tiny black shaped diamonds.”
“I know it!” she protested, she protested because her bikini was very small, that she could fit the entire thing into a matchbox it was so small!
“When you get to the shoot,” continued the husband, “I want you to put on that bikini and your job is to cover Tony’s penis from the eye of the camera. You can use your hands, your thighs, your arms, your breasts, your butt, your face, hell any part of your body that you think is necessary!”
“You must be crazy,” she whispered urgently in his ear, “Look at the size of him, he’s a… he’s a… he’s a fucking monster!”
Mary was right about his size, Tony’s thigh was as big as her waist.
“I’m normal sized,” said Tony in a low threatening rasp.
“Be honest with me,” said her hubby with a confident smile, “Do you find Tony aggressively handsome?”
“Yes, but that’s not the point,” she protested.
“Sexy?”
“Yes but again…”
“Would you fuck him if you thought you could get away with it?” hubby asked.
“Maybe,” she laughed before she answered, the laugh was the real answer.
She looked Tony in the eye right now and blushed. Her laugh, her smile, her lingering hand in her hair, that was all for Tony. She was assessing him like one would a beautiful meal.
“Well you can get away with it! I’m giving you permission to get away with it,” said the hubby.
She tore her eyes away from Tony and glared at him.
“WHAT!”
“Permission given! Nine o’ clock tomorrow morning. The car. Go. And don’t let me down. Don’t let Tony down.”
She looked astounded and her jaw dropped as he retreated. Slowly she turned to Tony, still overcome.
Tony leaned forward and cupped her hand in his. He looked deep in her eyes. He leaned in close to her ear, and she slipped her head forward to catch his words.
“Tomorrow. At nine. Don’t be late.” Tony’s whisper was as frightening as his voice.
She watched in shock as he left the party, beer unfinished. She watched him as he stooped low before he could fit through the small garden door. He was gone.
“Oh my GOD!” she exclaimed to no one in particular.
As she climbed into the car a little after nine the next morning, she thought about the lengthy discussion she had with hubby. He was adamant that she should go. He knew her to be an extremely sexual woman and with his unrelenting recent schedule he was unable to provide for her entertainment. She knew hubby was very open minded, and had encouraged a holiday fling before, but this was next level!
Still her mind raced back to the very muscled Tony, his gruff Sicilian accent, gaunt looks and monstrous body! He was cute, she thought. Very bloody cute. And she wondered what was wrong with his penis that it could not be photographed? Why did the bloody cute man not want his penis snapped, was it tiny? The thought amused her.
They arrived at a very ramshackled building. The driver parked and led the way upstairs.
“What is this please?” she asked.
“One of your hubby’s! He bought the hotel and will tear it down next month. We are in the ballroom!” said the driver and opened the door to the ballroom.
“Funny word that! Ballroom!” she giggled.
The marble floor was checked with black and white tiles. A chandelier hung low, from the ceiling, bright lights on tripods struck a stark contrast to the grim old weather-beaten walls. peeling wallpaper and sagging ceiling.
“You’re not late!” Tony growled at her and laughed.
He was wearing a bathrobe, and Mary guessed he was nude under that. The room suddenly came to life. The “Director” introduced the camera man and his assistant, director’s assistant, and her own assistant! All men! And they bustled around her, storing her bag, touching up her make up and all at record speed.
“We only have 4 hours,” the director lamented to her.
Four hours! thought Mary. Surely that was enough time for a few pictures!
“Tony over here!” he shouted as he pointed to the furry animal skin in front of the camera man.
“We ready for you!” he added to Mary.
“Shall I help you take off the sweat suit?” her “assistant” asked thoughtfully.
“No!” she said as she went to Tony’s side, her assistant in tow.
She had not decided if she would stay, and she was overly self conscious right now. Tony seemed to know and gently put an arm around her shoulders, and grunted a few encouraging words. He slowly shed his bathrobe to an assistant, and shamelessly she looked at his penis.
“So that’s what all the fuss is about,” she smiled.
It was a dick. A good dick, very much like Tony. Thick, not as tall as he was, but very, very thick.
“Tony, there’s nothing wrong with that dick,” she admonished him, “You should be proud to have that on film, and no tattoos!”
“I don’t wanna be on no gay book!” He shot back, “With you here they know I’m no gay.”
She laughed, but the sight of that dick, that thick beast calmed her and she laughed, looking at him. He smiled at her with a small rumble of contentment, and put a massive hand around her. It was a small comfortable squeeze. She folded into the massive man, her shoulder scrunching up in both comfort and security. She giggled. A camera snapped and whirled.
“Come on now,” said Tony, “I got you!”
It was not the voice, but the smile that lowered her defences, and put her hand across his massive chest. She was tall but only reached up to his shoulder, so he had to stoop a little to kiss her on the forehead.
“You kiss me like I’m a child!” she complained mildly.
“Then be an adult,” he prompted and he slowly and deliberately tugged her sweat shirt up.
She lifted her hands over her head and surrendered. Her very small bikini was finally exposed. The body that she kept in shape with yoga, and hours of gym showed no fat, she was toned, tanned and beautiful. Her breasts were a wonderful C-cup and she hid them against his body and hid them from the rest of the crew.
“Fuck!” The words escaped, “You look damn beautiful!”
He held her at arms length and twirled her like a dancer.
“Wow,” said someone behind the lights.
“Beautiful!”
“Gorgeous,” said another and a chorus of men agreed, which made her drink from the cup of confidence.
His warm skin invited her, and her hugs turned into touching. All the while, the camera clicked and clicked and clicked.
“Sit down,” the director ordered him.
He sat on the floor, and guided her to sit between his legs. hiding his penis.
“Mary, face him!” said the director.
“Now face to the left!”
“Now face front.”
As she wriggled from position to position, her body rubbed against his penis, which encouraged it to raise and harden. It peeked out and looked at her. She laughed and so did the growling machine. She covered the head as she looked back at him, and they shared a secret joke.
