we're together

Just ink the two middle buttocks and the text lines up perfectly.

StoryKettle » Tinge » we're together

Copyright © 2017, Michael M Wayman

We're together. Just those two words were a real money spinner. Lots of extra money for Captain Jane. Quick and easy, not much ink, any one colour as long as it was black, any old words as long as they just a few.

All she needed was the short phrase, some cash and two buttocks, preferably belonging to two persons, preferably female. Captain Jane had a list of phrases, but if you could think of better ones, especially if they are witty together and apart, just email me.

we're I love I love kiss me you love you love all to cheeky bashful kick don't fondle for sitting close cover buttocks how many times butt together you love you quick me love me get her cheeks buttocks me kick me at will purposes only before striking away can I write buttocks off

Mrs Pearson and Mrs Tinge had given her the idea – they had wanted two phrases, one on Mrs Pearson right buttock and one on Mrs Tinge's left buttock. But Captain Jane had the idea of one shorter phrase, the first half on one buttock and the second on the other. It was a real winner.

In the private backroom of her Tattoo Studio there was a table covered with several blankets and several mirrors. She called it the comfy table – you get the idea – it was just right for four buttocks. It made it easier for her – just ink the two middle buttocks and the text lines up perfectly.

She had note paper specially printed, a sketch of four buttocks with the phrase “we're together” at the top left and “Captain Jane's Tattoo Studio”, address, phone number and stuff at the top right. She wrote the phrase in the middle. “Do you want block caps, or all small or script?” What ever the customers wanted.

She put the sheet of paper on a music stand and got to work. This was the best bit. She liked buttocks, she liked to look at them, sometimes she invited the owners of the buttocks to her place. Usually she recorded the fee and signed and dated the sheet of paper. She rolled it up, tied it up with red string: “Here's your receipt.”

It was the end of the day, how many buttocks had she seen that day, maybe over fifty, when had she last seen Mrs Pearson and Mrs Tinge?

“Hello Captain Jane, come to check out our tattoos again?”

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