Date: Wed, 30 Apr 2003 17:47:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: Reverend Dark <reverend_dark07@yahoo.com>
Subject: Mother-Daughter Tattoos

Mother-Daughter Tattoos
by reverend dark
reverend_dark07 (at) yahoo dot com

Ever since I was twelve I had been talking about
getting a tattoo. All of my favorite bands featured
heavily tattooed musicians and I had bought a
subscription to three differen tattoo magazines with
my own money. You can imagine my sweet surprise when,
on my fourteenth birthday, my mother offered to take
me to a tattoo shop for my first tattoo.

"On one condition," she said. "We get the same tattoo
in the same place."

That was fine with me. I was ready to go to the tattoo
shop that day. I pulled out my book of tattoo ideas
and went through them all with my mother. She didn't
like any of the designs and she didn't like any of the
places I wanted them (my ankle, my shoulder, my back,
my calf).

It took us two months to agree on a design and a
location: a sinister Chinese-style dragon on our left
breasts.

We went to the only female tattoo artist in the whole
area and explained our situation. She was happy to
work with us and said she'd take care of both of us on
the same day one week later. I was so excited. I took
my design to school and showed it to everyone. A lot
of boys said they wanted to see the finished piece,
but they really just wanted to see my tits.

Boys chase me around. It may be because I have nice
little round tits and I like tight shirts, but it may
be because I'm one of only about ten girls in my whole
freshman class. My school has a well-known, highly
prestigious science and technology program, and most
girls just aren't interested, I guess. The other nine
girls aren't as pretty as me, in my opinion, except
maybe Janice, who's pretty in that bleached-blonde
Baywatch slutty kind of way. I kind of look like Avril
Lavigne -- long straight hair, slender but not skinny
(except my legs). I like black eyeliner and tight
clothes that are sort of punk or goth, but I also like
pretty stuff like Hello Kitty shirts, my pink purse,
and glitter.

My mom is kind of a hippie biker type. She has long
straight hair like mine but she always wears it either
in a ponytail or two long braids. She has sun
freckles, amazing green eyes (mine are a dull hazel),
and a sweet smile. She's pretty, but she can also turn
into a hateful old witch when she's mad, I guess. I'm
jealous of two things: her big boobs (I'm a 30B, she's
a 36D) and her solid legs. My legs are like
matchsticks, they're gross. Mom also has a big ass and
I tease her about it since mine is nice and round and
tight.

Finally the day arrived. I was so excited. Mom drove
us to the tattoo place and we joked about it the whole
time. When we got there, the artist said she had been
doing some thinking about the design. She said we
shouldn't waste our time and money with a tiny dragon
at the very top of our breasts. She suggested doing
the same design but larger that would cover the breast
from top to the areola. It would only cost about $50
more and it would look much, much better. After she
showed us some photos of tiny tattoos that had become
colorless blobs over the years, and compared them with
photos of large tattoos that had survived time's
ravages, we agreed to get the larger ones.

Mom went first. She was wearing a denim button-up
shirt with the sleeves ripped off so that her slightly
doughy upper arms were visible. I hated that shirt!
She undid the buttons and took it right off. She
wasn't wearing a bra -- she hardly ever did. (Neither
did I, but I was small enough to get away with it,
mostly. Except when my nipples got hard.)

At first I was a little shocked that Mom was topless
but we were in the back of the artist's shop where no
one could see us. Mom lay back in what looked like a
modified dentist's chair and the artist went to work.
It was weird to see my mom half-naked with her tit
being handled by this cute punk woman with tattoos and
dreadlocks. I have to admit it made me feel a little
odd. It was hot in the back of the shop too, so maybe
that's why I was sweating a little.

It took an hour and a half for the outline and
coloring to be finished. When the tattooer wiped away
all the blood I got to see the dragon for the first
time. It looked awesome! I couldn't wait to get mine
done but I was still a little nervous.

The artist placed a huge, clear bandage over Mom's
breast and told her to stand up and get a drink of
water. She apologized for the heat in her shop and
explained that her air conditioner was broken. Mom was
perspiring freely, more than me. She walked over to me
and said "So, what do you think?" I leaned over to
look at the detail and I noticed Mom's nipple was
really hard. That gave me a little odd feeling again,
like being excited and embarrassed at the same time.
It was so weird. I told her it looked awesome and she
said "Your turn, kiddo!"

I felt kind of embarrassed about taking off my shirt.
Mom rolled her eyes and started to bug me. "Well
kiddo, you've got to do it if you want to get this. I
thought you really wanted a tattoo?" Blah blah blah.
But when the artist offered to take off her shirt if
it would make me more comfortable, I agreed.

I pulled my shirt over my head with some difficulty.
My sweat had made it stick to my back a little bit.
When I finally got it off me, I noticed that the
artist had already taken off her black T-shirt. She
had really nice tits and rings in both nipples, and
really cool tattoos everywhere. Her nipples were hard
like my Mom's -- and so were mine, all of a sudden.

I laid down on the dentist's chair as the artist put
on a fresh pair of latex gloves and changed her
needle. There was some small talk about my school,
boys, and the bands I liked. I had never heard of any
of the bands she liked because they were all
underground independent metal bands and stuff.

When she was ready to start, she rubbed some ointment
into my tit. The heel of her hand kept brushing my
nipple and that little odd feeling was getting
stronger. I knew what it was ... I got the same
feeling when I stayed up late to watch dirty movies on
cable, or when I clenched and unclenched my thighs
together in class while staring at people I thought
were cute.

Once the tattoo needle hit me I wasn't turned on at
all though. It HURT. I knew it was going to hurt so I
wasn't complaining, and I didn't cry or anything. But
it still hurt like hell.

My half-naked mother stood next to the chair, smiling
down at me, holding my hand, and making jokes. She
even said "I would offer to kiss and make it better,
but I might get in trouble!" We all laughed at that.

Finally it was done and when the artist wiped the
blood away I couldn't wait to see it. I looked down at
it first, then the artist handed me a mirror and I was
able to see the whole thing from the front. It looked
so fucking cool! My first tattoo! I was really happy.

The artist warned us to leave the bandage on for 24
hours, and then to clean the tattoo every day with a
special lotion. She also warned us not to get it wet
for three days, and then not to get in a pool after
that for at least a week. Furthermore, we should never
expose our tattoos to sunlight if we could help it,
unless we had at least 30 SPF sunblock.

On the way home we laughed about our experience and
half-jokingly complained about not being able to wear
bikinis in the sun anymore (not that we ever did
before).

As soon as she could take her bandage off, Mom showed
her tattoo to her boyfriend Dave. Of course, when I
went to school the next day, the boys asked to see my
tattoo and I pulled down the neck of my shirt a little
bit to let them see the edge of the bandage. I'm such
a tease! It was funny.

A few days later Mom asked if I wanted to shower with
her.

"Why Mom?" I yelped.

"We've got these tattoos to take care of, we may as
well do it together," she said, shrugging. "But if you
don't want to then I understand."

"No, it's OK, we can," I said quickly. I thought it
would be cool to compare our fresh tattoos in the
shower. Mom had the same idea.

We undressed in the bathroom together. I turned away
from Mom until the last minute because for some reason
I didn't want her to see my pussy hair. My Mom has a
tendency to comment on stuff like that. When my boobs
started showing she kept teasing me about them. Same
thing with my armpit hair. But when I turned around to
quickly jump in the shower, I noticed Mom had no pubic
hair at all!

"You shave, Mom?" I said without thinking, then
blushed. I was standing behind her looking at her
back.

"Oh yeah, Dave likes it that way," she replied,
wetting her long hair under the shower head.

I giggled. "That's weird. You don't shave your pits or
your legs, but you shave down there. I shave my pits
and my legs but I let my pubes grow."

Mom shrugged. "It's your choice, honey. Here, your
turn under the water."

We had to press up against each other to change places
in our narrow shower. I got that odd little feeling
again as Mom's nipples raked across my back and her
hand pressed against my belly for balance.

"Do you like it, though?" I said a little too quietly
underneath the shower.

"What?"

I repeated my question and she giggled just like I
had. "Yeah, I think so. It's not easy to maintain, but
the extra, um, feelings are worth it, I guess."

I didn't say anything, so she continued. "You just
have a little down there now, but by the time you're
17 or 18 you might start thinking about trimming or
shaving it completely. Or you can keep a big old bush,
either way."

Ugh, I KNEW she was going to say something about my
pubes. I never should have mentioned her shaved stuff!

I had to admit, though, it made Mom look younger --
and sexier. Not only were her thick labia visible, but
her big clit hood could be seen too. I bet Dave really
liked to eat her out, or better still, look down and
see his dick going into her bare pussy.

After I'd finished wetting my hair, Mom said it was
time to compare tattoos, so we stood right in front of
each other. Both of our tattoos looked awesome. I
moved closer at the same time Mom did and first our
nipples touched, and since both of them were hard it
was like an electric shock going through me, and then
we couldn't get our balance and we both fell into each
other, hugging and laughing and trying not to fall
over. It was awkward, but cool, in that odd little
way, if you know what I mean.

Later, when Mom told Dave we'd compared tattoos in the
shower, he said "Whoa, I wish I could have seen THAT!"
in his gross chauvinist way, and Mom hit him with her
newspaper. I had been thinking about that shower ever
since it ended in a really happy and sort of sexy way,
but that comment just wrecked it for me. Blah. Yuck.

*****

About a month before my 15th birthday, my mom asked if
I was thinking about getting another tattoo. I told
her yes, definitely! She said that we had only a month
to think of a design, so we started brainstorming
right away. We ended up settling on a rose with a
thorny stem, with one thorn seeming to prick the skin
and draw blood. It was a really cool design.

We couldn't agree on where to do it, though. I wanted
the stem to wrap around my upper arm and have the
flower on my shoulder, but my mom wanted to have it on
her ass! She said she didn't want anything that
couldn't be hidden by a swimsuit. I told her it was a
little late for that, but she reminded me that her old
swimsuit was a one-piece that went up to her neck.

I had started shaving my pubic hair a few weeks before
this, so I thought about having the rose tattooed near
the bikini line. When I proposed this to Mom, she
thought it was a great idea. It would mean smaller,
cheaper tattoos, and maybe less detail, but the more
we talked about it, the more we liked it.

Our tattoo artist was enthusiastic about it too. We
made an appointment and the artist said that we should
wear comfortable, loose underwear and sweatpants.
After Mom hung up the phone she said out loud, "Oh
shit, we're gonna have to get naked to get these
tattoos!" I laughed, but I was thinking the same
thing. I decided to wear sweatpants but Mom said she
would wear a sundress.

Sure enough, on that day, the artist took us in the
back room (with repaired air conditioning, thank god)
and said that whoever was going first should get
ready. I told Mom I would go first this time. I think
part of the reason I wanted to go first was because I
was feeling a little exhibitionist. I slid off my
pants and underwear right away and positioned myself
in the dentist's chair. The tattoo artist didn't react
at all to my hairless pussy but my Mom said "Wow! I
guess you decided to take the plunge, huh?"

"Yep, just a few weeks ago. You were right, as I got
hairier I thought it would be better this way."

"I used to shave mine all the time," the artist said
as she got her needles ready.

"Oh yeah? But you let it grow out now?" asked my mom.

"Nope. I had electrolysis because I was getting a
tattoo on my crotch."

"Really? What is it?"

"Wanna see it?"

I felt that weird combination of embarrassment and
excitement again as the tattoo artist unbuckled her
metal-studded belt, then unbuttoned her tight black
denim pants. She pushed the top of her pants down to
the tops of her thighs so we could see her black silk
thong panties, then pushed her panties down. She had
an amazing tattoo of a garden where her pubic hair
should have been -- all flowers and grass and leaves,
with a bright butterfly on top. It was awesome. But it
was also awesome to see the top of her hairless pussy
lips.

"Pretty cool huh? Maybe someday we'll do something
like this on you," the artist said to me as she pulled
her pants back up and refastened her belt. "It would
be so easy to work your rose design into a larger
garden piece."

"Maybe so," I said, my mouth a little dry. I
swallowed.

"Nervous?" she asked, pulling her dreadlocks back into
a ponytail.

"No. Yeah."

"It doesn't hurt that much, especially since your rose
will be over to the side. If I was tattooing right on
your pubic mound, it would hurt a lot more."

"OK."

She snapped on her latex gloves and the tattooing
began. It still hurt, dammit.

This one took much less time. In fact, it seemed to be
over really quickly. She wiped off the excess ink and
blood and handed me a mirror. I held it over my crotch
and spread my legs a little. The tattoo was awesome
but I was also looking at my open pussy, and wondering
if the tattoo artist was looking there too. She wasn't
-- she was taking off her gloves on the other side of
the room -- but Mom was.

She noticed that I'd caught her looking at my pussy
but she didn't look away. "It looks so good, kiddo,"
she murmured, still staring down there, then looking
me in the eye. "My turn!"

After the artist bandaged me, I stood up and dressed
myself. Mom laid down in the chair and pulled up her
sundress. She wasn't wearing any underwear!

She noticed me staring at her hairless pussy and said
"I thought it would be easier to just not wear
underwear, you know?" I nodded and made myself look
away.

The artist came back over with fresh gloves and a
needle right out of the autoclave. She smiled down at
my mom, sat down, and got to work.

Mom grimaced a few times but I held her hand and joked
with her, just like she'd done for me the first time.
Again, it didn't seem to take that much time, and it
was over pretty quickly. When the artist wiped away
the blood and ink, she wiped right across the top of
Mom's pussy. Mom jumped a bit and the artist
apologized, but then Mom really embarrassed me (and
gave me that odd little feeling) when she laughed and
said "Do you charge extra for that?" The artist
laughed too, but I said "Mom!" and turned away. That
made Mom and the artist laugh even more.

We walked funny with those big clear bandages around
our crotches and joked about it all the way home. Dave
was away on a trip so I didn't have to endure any of
his stupid comments. We ordered a pizza and watched TV
together for the rest of the night.

The next night Mom suggested a shower together again
and I was all for it. This time I wasn't embarrassed
to undress in front of her and I even said "like
mother, like daughter" as I took off my panties to
reveal my bare crotch.

In the shower I was more relaxed and so was Mom. We
soaped each other's backs and I didn't flinch when we
squeezed past each other in the shower. It was fun,
actually, and also a little sexy, I have to admit.

When we were done, Mom pulled back the shower curtain
and we both stepped out onto the bath mat. "Oh shit,
there's only one clean towel!" Mom said.

"We'll have to share," I observed. And we did -- first
Mom dried me, then I dried her. I got that odd little
feeling as she ran her hands all over my body and then
I returned the favor. Even though the towel prevented
skin-to-skin contact, it was still sort of exciting to
rub Mom's buttocks or breasts.

When we were both dry, Mom surprised me by hugging me
tight and pressing her face into my neck. This wasn't
a shy little "oops we're both naked" hug but a full
embrace. I felt my whole body get warm as she pressed
against me and I returned the hug as much as I could.
At last she pulled back and held my face in her hands.
She was smiling and her eyes were shining.

"I love you, kiddo," she said. "I love you so much."

I had to look away or I would have started crying. "I
love you too, Mom," I murmured.

"I have another present for you," she said. "Come into
my room."

"Right now?"

"Right now."

"Um, shouldn't I get dressed?"

"No, baby. Come on."

She took my hand and practically pulled me out of the
bathroom and into her bedroom. Her bed was unmade, of
course, and there were clothes and magazines and books
all over the floor. My mom was kind of a slob.

"Sit on the bed, kiddo. I got something for you."

I obeyed. I was so curious. What was it?

She went into her closet and I could see her reaching
up on the top shelf. "Oh my god!" I thought as I gazed
at her big butt flexing as she fumbled around on the
top shelf. There were only a few things she kept on
that top shelf: important documents (birth
certificates, tax returns), Dave's Glock, her penny
jar .... and her vibrator.

I had already discovered it years ago and pleasured
myself with it many times. Oh my god, this was going
to be really awkward!

But she didn't come back with a vibrator. Instead she
pulled a long red package from the back of the shelf
and brought it to me, her wet hair swinging around her
head as she flopped on the bed next to me.

"Go ahead, open it," she said softly, putting one hand
on my bare back. Her touch sent a nice chill through
me. That odd little feeling hadn't quite gone away.

I tore through the packaging as Mom's hand started to
stroke and caress my back.

Oh my god. She had given me a brand new vibrator!

"Mom!" I hollered. I felt that familiar flood of
embarrassment and excitement. I fell over on my side
and hid my face. Mom's hand kept stroking my lower
back and I realized that she could see my exposed
pussy when I was all curled up on my side like this.
But I didn't care. I wanted to see what would happen
next.

"Kiddo, don't be embarrassed," she said. "Really. I
have my own, see."

I didn't feel like looking up just yet. "But Mom, it's
--"

"Don't be embarrassed," she said again. "Here, I can
show you how to use it."

What? Did I hear that right? I whipped my head around
and stared at her.

"It's OK, kiddo. Come on." She pulled her vibrator out
from underneath her pillow.

"Mom!" I hollered again, hiding my face once more.

"Sweetie ... I thought it would be neat, that's all.
Oh, shit. Now I feel stupid." My Mom's tone had
changed from sultry to self-loathing.

I sat up and faced her. "Oh Mom, no! I'm just ... it's
just ..."

I hugged her.

She hugged me back, hard, then moved backward and held
my face again, staring into my eyes.

She kissed me: once, twice.

On the third time I kissed her back.

It was an amazing kiss. I felt a long hot rush from my
face down my spine to my pussy. I was suddenly wetter
than I had ever been.

I couldn't believe my mother and I were frenching on
her bed, but what was even more unbelievable was that
my hands had dropped to her heavy breasts and were
stroking them, lifting them, pulling at the nipples.
My mom returned the favor, cupping my little tits and
rubbing my nipples with her thumbs.

I was hornier than I had ever been in my life.

Mom broke the kiss and said "Can I show you now,
kiddo?"

I nodded.

Instead of using her vibrator on herself while I
watched -- which is what I thought she was going to do
-- she pressed that white wand against my open,
aching, soaking cunt and turned it on. Which turned me
on even more. That rounded tip was pressed right
against my clit and I came right away.

I grabbed her elbows and shrieked something, I don't
remember what, as I started cumming. It came out of me
in long heaving gasps and sighs which lasted forever
until I fell back against the pillows to catch my
breath.

"Let me show you something else, kiddo," Mom said as
she lowered her face between my thighs.

"Oh my god, no, Mom --" I started to say. Instead of
finishing, I yelped as I felt her tongue part my pussy
lips. Then I became totally nonverbal as my mother ate
my pussy.

I had never been eaten out before. It was heaven. I
thought the vibrator orgasm had been powerful, but the
crashing waves of orgasm that wracked my body were ten
times as strong.

At last, after I had begged her to let me rest, she
ceased. She moved slowly up my torso, dragging her
heavy tits from my pussy to my chest, then grinned
right before she kissed me. But I didn't have the
strength for another passionate tongue kiss. Instead I
just chirped and moaned while she sucked at my lips
and tongue.

She stood next to me and pulled her sheets up to my
chin. "Happy birthday, kiddo," she said, kissing my
forehead.

I slept for ten hours, and the next day we started
right where we left off.

After I had cum many times, I asked Mom to let me do
her, and she was more than happy to teach me how to
eat her pussy. I loved her musky taste and juicy
insides, but I really loved having that hairless flesh
in my mouth. When she held my head and grinded her
naked, hairless crotch against my face, I was in
heaven.

We stayed in bed all day. She had me lay on top of her
for a 69, and after I thought I couldn't cum any more
she started licking my asshole instead of my pussy. At
first I was grossed out and I almost got off of her,
but then I surrendered to the amazing sensations --
and had more orgasms! I had no idea that it was even
possible.

After the fourth day of our new relationship, Mom said
that Dave was due home soon. I tearfully begged her to
kick him out, but she said no, we had to carry on as
if everything was normal. She assured me that our
liaisons would become even sweeter if we had to
restrain ourselves most of the time, and she was
right. However, she did end up kicking Dave out right
before my 16th birthday, and for four months my mother
and I slept in the same bed and made love every night
(and many mornings before work and school).

Then I met Cary, and things started to change. But
that's another story.

[feedback appreciated: reverend_dark07 (at) yahoo dot com]