I watched him with apprehension, my eyes filled with fear, suspicion, anxiety and the excited anticipation of what was about to happen. Now and then, Big John, looked up at me and smiled reassuringly. He unscrewed the top of the short, squat, vasoline bottle and put it within easy reach, next to the blanket-covered cot on which I lay.

"Shadow is a pretty name", he said. From past experience he knew that idle conversation, into which was injected a bit of flattery, could ease a woman's anxiety. Prepare me for what was coming. "Wanna tell me about the history of your name?"

"It's my first time," I said, a little-girl quality in my voice. My lower lip began to tremble. "I am aware of that," he said. "Don't worry. I'll be real careful. As gentle as possible. It won't hurt much. Only at first - when it goes in for the first time. After that, it's kind of nice. You'll see. You'll like it."

"Where's my sister?" I asked, half-rising and looking around the small room. "She said it wouldn't hurt at all." My eyes scanned the framed pictures hanging on the wall and looking around the small room. I scanned the framed pictures hanging on the walls from floor to ceiling, and I tried to avert my eyes so that I didn't have to look at them, but wherever I looked, they were there, naked men and women, gazing down at me, smiling. The men, with biceps bulging, had their arms crossed on their chests. They stared down at me. I was afraid.

"Your sister is in the other room. She didn't want to be here when it happened. She was afraid you'd cry or something." "Will it hurt that much?" I asked, going rigid. "Will it take very long?"

"Naw. It won't hurt much and it won't take any longer than the usual sexual encounter. Or dying," he added. "Did you know that the average sexual encounter only takes seven minutes, and that's also how long it takes for the brain to die when it's deprived of oxygen. Funny, ain't it?" He stopped smiling and moved close to me, and in a soft voice he said, "Slide down your panties now. That's it. Take them right off. All the way. And kind of spread your legs. Don't be embarrassed. Uh-huh."

He drew in a sharp breath as I arched my back and wriggled, pulling my mesh bikini panties down over my silken, but firm thighs and legs. Big John drew in his breath and sighed audibly. Sharply, like a grasp.

"Damn! That's what I call pretty."

I blushed and turned my face away from him, but when I did I found myself looking directly as a lewdly-smiling woman with enormous breast, on one of which was tattooed a multi-coloured peacock.

His fingers kneaded my soft flesh. He touched my mound, brushing the hair softly with his palm, and I stiffened my fingers clutching the material of the cloth-covered cot. I felt him begin to move my legs so that I would be in a better position, raising my knees up a little and putting a pillow under them. He positioned another pillow, and with a little coaxing got me to raise my butt up so that he could work the pillow under me.

Now I lay in a less comfortable position, with my pelvis thrust forward, which in this case meant that it was the highest part of my body, and I could feel each breath Big John exhaled

He blew away a piece of lint that must have settled on my pubic hair, and goosebumps sprang up on my pale skin. I clenched my fists, gave a little shudder, and my knees trembled uncontrollably. Big John dipped his index finger into the vasoline jar. He moved closer to me. I felt him touching me on that section of super-delicate skin where the legs join the body.

"You'll like the feeling," he said.

"Don't be ashamed if you like it a lot. Sometimes women get wet - you know. I keep a roll of paper towels right here for afterwards."

I looked as if I were about to cry.

"Say, if you want to - I mean," he said, grinning, "if your sister wants to come in and -." He left the sentence unfinished.

"You devil," I said, giving him a sideways glance. I reached out and squeezed his hand. "Maybe next time." He moved closer and pressed down on me, and I made a little sound.

"Get ready," Big John said. I tensed, quickly.

I felt the prick. I wanted to cry out in pain, but instead, I clenched my teeth and tried to remain stoic. What my sister had said was right. The first pain didn't last very long at all. It was sharp and stinging, but lessened after a moment, and then the soft, even stroking began to do things to me. I felt a thrill run through me and I dug my fingers into the cot until my nails hurt. I tipped my head back and I let the pain and the throbbing vibrations soak into me, knowing that my secret little bump wasn't so secret any more, but was standing up. Erect. Exposing itself. I knew he would see it like that. Sense it first, and then look, and I hoped he would watch what he was doing rather than pay too much attention to my reaction.

Then I felt moisture flow down the insides of my legs, first one and then the other. It took a lot to cause that reaction, but this combination of pain and vibration was just what was needed to set me off.

"Oh, God!" I cried, through gritted teeth, arching upward. "Uungh!" I said, sounding very unfeminine. I bit my lip, ashamed of the sound. "Yeti" stopped and drew back. He looked into my eyes.

"You O.K.?" he asked.

"Don't stop now, for crissakes," I panted. "Don't stop. Keep going. Jesus! "Don't stop now."

"A few more strokes is all, " he said, reassuringly. He stopped twice to smooth the vasoline, spreading it over my delicate skin and brushing away fine drops of blood and ink created by the plunging, rapidly vibrating needle.

"When it's finished and healed, you'll like it. It's a pretty butterfly," he said. "Your sister has one like it on one of her breasts." That tattoo needle hummed and vibrated as he finished the job with an artistic flourish.

© Copyright 2000 "Big John Nasty"