Overlooked

by Lulu Pratt

  I’m shocked. My dick twitches at the knowledge Eloise Hutchinson is about to drop her panties for me.

  “I’ll have to see which type of piercing suits you. Ideally, you want the triangle.”

  “Right. Of course.” Her eyes avoid mine.

  “You won’t regret it. See what jewelry you like while I prepare,” I say, pointing to the jewelry case.

  Eloise gives a slight nod and shuffles to the case. I hurry into the back and lay a towel over my barber-style chair. Back at the front of the parlor, Eloise stands stiff in front of the counter.

  “See anything you like?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I like these ones, with the pretty blue jewels.”

  Of course she does. Opening the drawer underneath, I pull out a few sample styles of the ones with the pretty blue jewels and a few boxes of new, sterilized ones.

  “Okay, Jewel, I’m ready for you.”

  She follows me into the back room, and I lead her to the chair at my station. She freezes and her eyes take in the four tattoo stations, each with its own barber-style chair. I motion for her to sit. Her breathing is heavy as she stands beside the chair in my station.

  “What should I do?” she asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Should I take my panties off?” Her cheeks blaze red.

  I can’t help the massive smile that spreads across my face.

  “It’d be helpful.”

  “What about my skirt?”

  “Nah, you can leave it on, just bunch it up around your waist.” It kills me to say that. Maybe I can talk her into a nipple piercing to get her top off.

  She discreetly slips her hands under the waistband of her skirt and wiggles around. Taking her hands out of her waistband, she moves them under the hem of her skirt. A moment later, her panties are in her hand.

  I watch in amazement throughout the whole thing.

  “Ready,” she says.

  “Take a seat.”

  She backs into the chair, and flicks the back of her skirt up. Her ass plants on the towel, and she leans into the backrest. The front of her long skirt falls over her legs to her shins.

  “Put your feet there and there,” I say as I raise the footrest.

  Eloise does as I say, and I take a seat to begin my assessment. I squirt some hand sanitizer onto my palm and massage it in. Opening my bottom drawer, I pull out a new pair of latex gloves.

  “I hate wearing latex gloves,” Eloise says.

  I look up, and her dark eyes are wide, staring at me.

  “Me too, but gotta follow protocol.”

  She has no idea how much I hate these gloves right now. I want to feel her skin against mine. Why did I pull them out of the drawer?

  While I pull them on, her eyes are fixated on my right hand. The back of it is covered in a roaring lion tattoo.

  “I like your tattoo,” she says.

  “Yeah? I didn’t figure you for much of a tattoo person.”

  She shrugs, “I’m not really, but I love animals.”

  “Yeah, you like lions?”

  “Love them, but I prefer tigers.”

  “Are they your favorite animal?”

  “No, rabbits are my favorite.”

  I chuckle. Of course she’d like bunnies best, look at her.

  “I can always design you a fluffy little bunny to tattoo on your thigh.”

  “Oh, no. I definitely don’t want a tattoo,” she says, her eyes wide and her head recoiled into the chair.

  “Right, just the pussy piercing then.”

  Eloise’s body shifts, and I regret saying the word pussy. It just slipped out. I hope she doesn’t run out of here.

  “Well, I haven’t decided for sure yet. I need to know what I can have first. And some more information.”

  “Information? Like what? The healing time? I thought Kaylee went over all that with you.” I drop my hands to my thighs, and continue. “It can take up to six months. It’s best if you clean the area with a saline solution several times a day. You can have sex while it heals, but you have to be careful. Gentle. No swinging from chandeliers. And you have to keep it clean so it doesn’t get infected. So no oral sex without a dental dam.”

  Her eyes widen and then squeeze shut as I speak, and she looks more and more confused.

  “Just tell your boyfriend to be cautious,” I say.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  That’s music to my ears. Not that I want to be her boyfriend in any way. I just want to fuck her.

  “Okay, so the next guy you pick up in a bar has to go easy with you.”

  “I don’t pick up men in bars,” she snaps, and moves to stand.

  I block her escape route with my body, and say, “Sorry, I’m just joking around.”

  “What happened to you being a professional?”

  “I am professional. I’m trying to relax my nervous client.”

  “I’m not nervous.”

  “No?” I quirk an eyebrow at her.

  “Fine. Wouldn’t everyone be in this situation?”

  Without thinking, I put my hands on her thighs and rub them.

  Eloise

  Even with his gloves and my skirt separating our skin, something electric flies between us. I try to ignore it and focus on why I’m here.

  “What about with just me?” I ask, my cheeks blazing.

  Gabe furrows his brow for a moment before a look of understanding washes over his face.

  “You mean solo play?” he grins.

  Rolling my eyes, I say, “Yes.”

  “I guess that depends on how hard you like to go at yourself.”

  “Somehow I imagine it’s less vigorous than you go at yourself.”

  He laughs, his shoulders jiggling. The rich sound cuts through the tension in the air, and I can’t help but laugh as well.

  “You’ll be able to feel when it’s too much, but try not to rub the piercing. The most important thing while it heals is to keep the area clean. So if you use lube, be sure to wash when you’re done.”

  I mentally picture my favorite vibrator sitting on my bedside table, waiting for me with fresh batteries. If I go through with this, will it be too sore to use today?

  The thought of laying back on my bed in bliss fuels me with the need to carry through with this. Out of nowhere, the image of Gabe running his hands up my body and planting his lips on mine flashes through my mind. Heat rushes through my body at the thought.

  “Do you have the same problem by yourself as you do when you’re with a guy?” Gabe asks, snapping me out of my daydream.

  His hands are heavy on my thighs, grounding me to the chair. His intense eyes blaze into mine, and I’m unable to lie to him.

  “Usually,” I admit.

  “Well, a piercing will certainly help.”

  “You really think so?” I ask, hopeful.

  “You won’t know until you have it, but in my experience it will make a difference.”

  I manage a weak smile. Gabe’s done a good job at relaxing me, but there’s still something about him that intimidates me.

  “I hope so.”

  “Are you ready for me to look?”

  My chest explodes with butterflies, and my entire body trembles but I force myself to nod.

  Gabe tilts his head, his eyes examining me. It’s as though he can tell how I feel on the inside.

  “Did I tell you about the different jewelry options?” he asks, letting go of my thighs. The heat from his hands disappears and I realize how badly I want them back on my body.

  Twisting in his chair, he picks up two of the boxes that he took from under the counter. He passes me them one at a time.

  “You can go for the ring or the barbell. For the vertical piercing it’s probably better for your goal if you use the barbell. Same with the horizontal piercing. But most women who get the triangle go for the ring. We can hold these up and you can look in the mirror to see which you like best.”

  “I don’t think I need to look in the
mirror,” I say, shaking my head.

  Gabe laughs again, and says, “Okay, but you’re going to be wearing these all the time. Are you sure you don’t want to know what they will look like?”

  “I’m not doing this for aesthetics. Straight or curved makes no difference to me. These ones have pretty jewels on them, that’s good enough.”

  “Suit yourself, Jewel,” he says, shrugging.

  “If I have a choice, I like the ring best.”

  “What would be best is if you can have the ring as a triangle piercing. Do you want me to have a look now?”

  “Yes,” I say, more confident than before.

  Gabe takes the jewelry samples from my hands and sets them back on his table.

  He turns back in his chair to face me. My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my ribs. I don’t know whether to lift my skirt. Does he do that? Maybe he can use it as a tent so I don’t have to see him while he’s looking at me.

  The hem of my skirt reaches my shins, and I can’t reach it gracefully.

  Without saying anything, Gabe places his gloved hands on my exposed calves. My heart leaps at his touch. I take a deep breath to try to calm myself.

  His hands glide up my legs, pushing my skirt higher as they go. The pressure is gentle but firm, and leaves a trail of tingles in its wake.

  His eyes follow his hands as they travel up my legs. The hem of my skirt flips over my knees. Inch by inch, my thighs are exposed.

  The skirt hem reaches the tops of my thighs, and I’m sure he can see everything from where he’s sitting.

  “Slide your ass down a bit,” he says.

  I do as Gabe instructs, and the motion causes my knees to lift. He nudges my legs further apart, and I feel like I’m about to have an examination from the baddest doctor ever.

  Gabe flicks his eyes up to mine, and for a moment we simply stare into each other. When the intensity of his gaze becomes too much, I chew on my bottom lip.

  He gives my thighs a squeeze and lets go. Breaking our eye contact, he angles his head down and pushes the hem of my skirt up around my waist.

  Leaning my head back into the chair, I look up at the ceiling and pretend I’m elsewhere. I want to think about reading a book on a beach. Instead, all I can think of is the feel of Gabe’s hands on my thighs.

  Taking a deep breath, I wait for him to touch me again.

  “Nice,” he says, though it seems he’s talking to himself and not to me.

  His fingers make contact with my lips, and a thousand volts of electricity blast through me. My breath grows heavy.

  This is ridiculous. I have to calm myself. Gabe’s being a professional, and I need to be as well. It’s absurd that my body is reacting this way.

  Gabe gently pokes at me. His index finger runs up between my lips until he reaches the skin around my clit. With two fingers, he pulls back my hood, exposing my clit.

  As he touches it, my walls flood and I inwardly thank him for putting down the towel. I tell myself this is a normal reaction, and it must happen every time he does this.

  “So a vertical piercing would sit this way over your clit,” he says, tracing a vertical line with his finger. “And a horizontal like this.”

  Unexpectedly, a deep moan escapes my throat, and I immediately blaze scarlet from head to toe. Other than my redness, I struggle to care about anything other than Gabe’s fingers.

  “Eloise,” Gabe says, his voice sharp, and I realize he’s been talking to me.

  “Yeah?” I say, my voice far too breathy to retain any dignity.

  “Good news, it looks like you should be able to get the triangle piercing, but I’m going to make sure. Are you ready?”

  I nod.

  With his thumb and index finger, he pinches the skin underneath my clit.

  “The triangle sits behind the clit, at its base. The piercing will rub up against it from behind, like this.” Gabe rubs his fingers together, simulating where the piercing would rub.

  I clench my teeth together to stop from crying out. No one has ever touched me like that. I can’t believe how good it feels.

  Why did my ex-boyfriend, Chet, only ever rub me like a genie’s lantern?

  “You have the right anatomy. You could get all three, but you probably want to start with one. For your goal of sexual stimulation, the triangle’s the one you want,” he says, still holding the spot between his fingers.

  I look down at the heavily tattooed man with pierced nipples. Ordinarily I would never let anyone like him touch me. Right now all I want to do is sit in his chair forever.

  “Well?” he asks.

  “Well what?”

  A silence falls between us. He keeps moving his fingers, and my entire body hums and buzzes. My breathing is quick, and I’ve given up caring that I’m the color of a tomato.

  After a few moments, Gabe says, “I’m not sure a piercing is what you need.”

  Gabe

  My dick is rock hard and hurts like a bitch in my jeans. I lean forward so she doesn’t notice.

  The way Eloise is squirming under my touch makes it pretty clear that she doesn’t need a piercing to have an orgasm.

  “What do you mean?” she asks. Her voice is a breathy gasp.

  “I mean that I don’t think physical stimulation is your problem here.”

  Eloise says nothing, and I keep my fingers where they are. I’d love to make her come right now, but not if she doesn’t want me to.

  “Why do you say that?”

  With my free hand, I lift up the edge of the towel and wipe some of the dripping wet from her pussy.

  “It didn’t take much to make it all wet down here.”

  “Doesn’t that happen to everyone?”

  I look up at her and smirk. “Not usually.”

  She’s already the brightest red I’ve ever seen anyone but I swear she just went redder.

  “Oh God, how embarrassing.”

  I would definitely like to hear her say oh God a few more times, right before she screams my name.

  Holding her eyes in mine, I say, “I can show you right here.”

  “Huh?”

  “I can get you off right now if you want.”

  Eloise straightens her body, though I still haven’t let go.

  “What happened to being professional?”

  With a slight shrug, I say, “I’d just be doing a favor for an old friend.”

  She shuts her eyes, breaking our gaze. Without opening them, she says, “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Didn’t Mrs. Singleton always tell us to help our friends whenever we could?”

  Once again I start squeezing and rolling my fingertips. My face is a mere foot from her pussy and it takes all my self-control not to have one sweet taste.

  Her eyes shoot open, and she studies me, searching her memory.

  “Mrs. Singleton? What do you mean?”

  “You don’t remember me? I’m hurt,” I say, teasing her.

  “Did we go to school together? What did you say your name was?”

  “Gabe.”

  She thinks for a moment, and says, “Gabriel Irwin?”

  “You got it.”

  A huge smile spreads across her face, and she says, “You used to sit behind me in seventh grade.”

  “Yep, in Mrs. Singleton’s class.”

  “I thought you moved away,” she says, her brow furrowed.

  “I did and then I moved back.”

  “Well, this is awkward.”

  “Why? It shouldn’t be,” I say.

  “I’ve got a strange man’s fingers between my legs, and it turns out I went to grade school with him. Not awkward at all,” she says sarcastically.

  “I always wondered what became of you.”

  “I’m a physiotherapist. I work at my parents’ practice. Did you know they’re doctors?”

  The mention of them wrenches my gut. “Yeah, I knew.”

  “You used to get in trouble all the time because all you did was draw.”
>
  The memories of Mrs. Singleton telling me I’d never amount to anything if I didn’t work on my English come flooding back and I laugh. All that drawing is what made me a success in the tattoo industry.

  “Good thing I never listened to her.”

  “One time you drew me a picture of an elephant. I taped it to the inside of my science binder and it stayed there all year. I even transferred it to my eighth grade science binder.”

  I remember drawing that for her. I was too nervous to ask her to be my little girlfriend and I came up with a plan that I would draw her a picture she loved so much that she would automatically say I was her boyfriend. She took the picture but she never called me her boyfriend.

  “You kept that after I left?”

  “It was a good picture,” Eloise says, and smiles.

  “I can draw you another picture if you like, and put it right here on your thigh,” I say, rubbing her upper thigh with my free hand.

  “I already told you I don’t want a tattoo.”

  “Do you still want the piercing?”

  As much as I’d love to pierce this pussy, I want to make her come and I want all the credit for it. I don’t want her thinking it was because of the piercing. I need her to know it was all me, and have her begging me for more.

  “Do you think it would help me?”

  “I’m sure it would feel good, but I think your problem is you’re dating the wrong guys. You need someone who knows what they’re doing.”

  She bursts out laughing, and says, “And let me guess, you know what you’re doing.”

  Without saying anything, I start rolling my fingers again. Eloise swallows, and looks up at the ceiling. She’s not gonna stop me if I carry on now. She’s probably never felt this good before.

  Her breathing quickens, and I realize she’s gonna let me do this. But suddenly I don’t know if I want to. I want to do it right with her, I want to feel her bare skin against mine. Not this latex glove bullshit.

  I want her writhing underneath me.

  Plus if I pierce her now, I won’t be able to taste her until she’s healed. Fuck dental dams.

  “How about I buy you dinner first?”

  Eloise shifts her eyes from the ceiling to me. “Dinner?”

  “It’d just be two old friends having dinner. Followed by getting your mind blown.”

  She doesn’t react, and it’s impossible to read her face.

  “What about my piercing?”