They told the tattoo artist what they wanted, and he thought that they were joking. Soon he saw that they were completely serious. They chose a heart filled with flowers.
Cari lay there on the table. Her hot young pussy clearly visible under white nylon panties. The tattoo artist could hardly keep his mind on his work. He kept looking at those curly hairs escaping from the nylon.
Todd watched him and knew that his prick must be pushing to get at Cari's cunt. His own cock ached to ram up into that juicy hole.
The artist got through with Cari in record time. He could hardly move because of the bulge in his pants.
Ellen placed herself on the table just as Cari had done. The tattoo artist took out a dirty handkerchief and wiped his brow.
Ellen wiggled her mound of blonde hair into position for the tattoo.
Todd almost laughed. He thought that the artist was about to cream his jeans.
Cari admired her tattoo in the minor. It was a hard choice for the man to stick to his work or watch her.
Finally it was Todd's turn. It didn't help the man much to see Todd's prick throbbing against his jockey shorts. He turned away just to see the girls looking at themselves in the mirror. Todd knew that he would need a drink when this was all over. He hoped that he was steady enough to do a good job on him.
Then they all went to Cari's house and to her bedroom since no one was at home. They took off their pants and looked at their tattoos. Todd thought about the poor guy who tattooed them.
Cari leaned down to get a better look at Todd's tattoo. She grabbed his hard, pointing prick and put it in her mouth. Her tongue fucked across the purple head.
"Aaaaaaggghhhh," Todd moaned and leaned forward into the mirror his arms outstretched against his own image.
He watched Cari's head go up and down on his blood-filled cock. Ellen grabbed his balls and massaged them with her plump young fingers.
"Wow, it's going to be one hell of a summer."
The day of their departure the sun rose gloriously. They met a few blocks from Ellen's home. They had decided to go on bicycles with just their backpacks. Each had left a note at home. They would be well on their way before the notes were read by their sleepy Sunday morning parents.
It would be one whale summer of fucking under the sun and under the stars, maybe even in the rain too.