The Messenger

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Under cover tattooed messenger.
2k words
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The bell on the door chimed and a dark haired lady swept into the coffee shop. I paused from my newspaper to watch her approach the counter to order. Nice looking, brown eyes, cafe au lait skin and a slightly round face with a flat nose. Perhaps native American. I could not exactly hear her words when ordering coffee, but from the tonal inflections and the confused look on the barista's face, I guessed she was either central or south American. Probably looking for me.

A few minutes later, she appeared at my table.

"Pardon me, sir." She said a little timidly, "Do you have the correct time?"

I glanced at my watch and said, "No, I am sorry, my watch has been running slow for days."

"Perhaps you need a new battery," she offered and looked down at her hands, cradling the paper cup of coffee, maybe hoping that phrase, which was completely foreign to her mouth, proved her validity.

I looked into her eyes and saw apprehension, and that completed the test.

"Sit down," I said as I cleared my newspaper from the table.

My guess was Brazil now. Her accent was somewhat Spanish but more Portuguese. She could be Ecuadoran, but I suspected for them global travel was more difficult. The girl set her coffee and bag down and sat in the chair across from me.

"Você tem viajado muito. Você deve estar cansado?" I asked— You've traveled far. You must be tired?

"Sim senhor... I mean, yes sir," she responded with a small smile, recognizing her native language.

"That's fine, young lady. I will take you to a place to rest. You have something for me?" I asked.

She involuntarily glanced at her right breast and said, "Yes," and after a moment looked me in the eyes and said, "I do."

Thirty minutes later we pulled into the Starlight motel. I took her bag and led her to my room. The key turned easy in the lock, but the door stuck a little in the frame, so I shouldered it open and held it wide. "After you," I said graciously. She smiled nervously and stepped into the room. I followed her in, dropped the bag on the table by the door and switched on the overhead light.

In the stark light of the room her hair shone, and, as she turned curiously around the room, her dark eyes sparkled. She wore a brown tailored jacket, a crisp open collar white blouse, form fitted jeans and tooled leather boots. She moved with unexpected lightness and grace. Carlos fancied himself a man of style and enjoyed picking and outfitting his messengers well. Maybe this was his way of putting me in my place, but I suddenly felt embarrassed by the shabbiness of the room. Perhaps I will do better next time.

"I will call you Beleza," I said, pretty sure that translates to 'beauty.' "Does that work for you?"

She turned and smiled. "Sim senhor... SIR."

I zipped open my bag at the foot of the bed and retrieved a small notebook and a pen. "Ok, Beleza, let's see what you have for me," I said as I settled into the chair by the table.

The girl glanced around and stepped in front of me as she shrugged off her jacket and laid it on the bed. She loosened cuffs of her shirt. As she started unbuttoning her blouse her eyes met mine and held them. She slowed the process of revealing her body bit by bit. Maybe she was a stripper back home or maybe she was just a beautiful woman who knew her effect on men, but she was clearly enjoying teasing me. And, I was enjoying the show. She pulled the shirt tails from under her belt to reach the last button, and then raised her hands to her collar to pull the shirt off her shoulders. She let it fall to the floor.

Her upper torso was tattooed in various places and as she twisted to the side to remove her bra, I saw the full extent of the artwork. There were several colorful tattoos on her upper back. Her shoulders and upper arms were well marked and colorful. There was a large dragon on her ribs and side. A floral piece peeked up from her belt line. The crispest of all was an Incan motif that covered most of her right breast and encircled her nipple.

That one was for me.

Beleza silently knelt in front of me and arched her head back to illuminate her chest. She held her breast up slightly with her right hand to show the finer detail of the tattoo.

Carlos and I trade in commodities that are not considered legal. In that business, traditional communications, either electronic or paper, can be dangerous. Long ago we developed a code between us that couldn't be easily deciphered because it was visual, more like hieroglyphics, and could be embedded in drawn images. The problem is printed images could be lost or stolen en-route. Carlos came up with idea of having his messages tattooed on well paid deliverers. They would never be stopped in customs, and since they carried nothing, nothing could be stolen.

Beleza tattooed chest was Carlos' message to me.

I brushed aside Beleza's and held her breast in my hand. There was a lot of detail there about a large shipment I was expecting to be delivered within the next month. The negotiated amount and the bank destination in an off shore account. I committed this all to memory, because after tonight I would not see Beleza again. For security purposes, messengers were never used twice between Carlos and I.

Unfortunately for her, I needed further information from Carlos and had intelligence about his competitors. That meant she would be tattooed again tonight.

"Beleza, I'm going to need five or six inches of your skin," I said. "Where would you like it?"

The girl's face clouded for a moment as she mentally inventoried her body. She removed her boots, unbuckled her belt and dropped her pants to the floor. She turned away, bent at the hips and pulled her panties down exposing elaborate tiger tattoos on her ass, evidently intended for Carlos' business associates in Asia or India. She turned and sat demurely on the bed and slowly opened her legs. She thoughtfully considered a blank spot high up on her left inner thigh. As she splayed her legs for me, I could not help noticing her bald vulva, clean and ready but yet unmarked.

"You can make it beautiful for me?" She asked with an expectant smile.

I guess she caught me staring because her question had hung in the air a few seconds too long, so I stammered, "Uh, yes of course, yes we can make it a beautiful tattoo." In that moment my mind was wrenched from my business and I realized a stunningly beautiful woman was laid before me naked and offering a place on her body for a mark that would remain with her for the rest of her life. A jolt of adrenaline coursed through me. I hungered to be inside her.

"What...what kind of design would you like?" I asked feeling my face flush and forehead moisten.

The girl looked down at her thigh and brushed her hand lightly over the skin and then cocked her head towards me and said, "I think something of you. You are the only man I meet in this country. I want what you will give me."

I slid off of my chair and knee-walked to the bed, and between her legs I bent slightly to touch the smooth skin of her inner thigh. I kissed it, savored its taste and smell. I rolled my eyes up to see the girl smiling down at me- a knowing smile, an encouraging smile. I kissed up her thigh and around her vulva. She rolled back on the bed and spread her legs wider for me, inviting me in. Her clit was full and her labia were moist as I explored them with my tongue. Beleza moaned and slid her hands through my hair; pulling me in with the tips of her fingers on the back of my head. A few minutes later, the muscles in her legs tightened and she arched her back as she released a guttural groan. Small squirts of vaginal fluid splattered my face as she convulsed before me.

I stood and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. "Move back on the bed," I commanded. I stripped as she pushed back further on the bed with her elbows. She gasped just a little when my hardened cock appeared as I dropped my pants. She was as hungry for me as I was for her, and she eagerly accepted me as I plunged deep inside her. Once again, Beleza's body responded to my rhythmic pumping; her back arched and convulsed under me and I could feel my balls drenched with her juices. I slowed for her to savor the moment.

Beleza pushed my left shoulder away, urging me to roll over, and I did. She climbed on top, neatly inserted my cock between her legs and sat down, watching my face closely as she slid down glistening inch by inch. She began rocking forward and backward very slowly and as she did, she traced her fingers over my skin. First my chest and sides, and then my arms, and neck and face. Her well tattooed body was swaying above me and I could see dozens of artful business transactions knowing I could never translate any but the one for me, and she could never remove them from her body. I think she was fascinated by my completely unmarked skin, and she knew I was excited about adding my mark to her collection.

I held her tits in my hands as she ramped up the motion. Under my left hand was the Incan design with Carlos' message for me, and now it served no other purpose than an adornment for the messenger. Beleza bore down and I grabbed her sides to pull her down into me. In a few minutes, I exploded inside and held her hips fast as waves of orgasm momentarily froze all of the muscles in my body.

————

The shower turned off and a few minutes later, Beleza stepped out of the bath wrapped in a towel. I was sitting at the table where she left me earlier, still scribbling away. I had reserved a time with a local tattoo artist for her, and did not want to miss the appointment.

The messenger removed her towel and was now drying her hair in front of the mirror. Distracting.

The design I had sketched out would certainly be refined by the tattoo artist, but I had included all of the glyphs I needed to communicate with Carlos. I had also sketched a modification for her Incan tattoo that would obliterate key components and make it untranslatable in the future.

The girl turned toward me and was diligently applying skin moisturizer to her chest, stomach and legs— paying particularly close attention to the inside of her thigh, yet to be marked. The skin conditioner made her tattoos pop like they were all brand new.

I erased some of the traced lines and corrected. Finally, I set the pencil down and reviewed the drawing. The girl padded over, touched the back of my neck and looked over my shoulder. She gasped and held her fingers to her mouth. "Meu Deus!" she said.

The artwork I am sending her back with will be equally complex as the message for me engraved on the tit pressed to my cheek, so it had to be a little bigger than I had intended. The question is, is it good enough to grace her thigh?

Beleza hunched over, smiled and kissed me on the lips.

"Sir, it is beautiful!" she said.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 1 year ago

I love your stories, especially the ones where girls get tattoos. Any chance we could get a new instalment? Love the idea of a girl slowly and gradually letter her partner tattoo so much so she ends up having to tattoo her face, neck hands because that’s all she has left without ink.

AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago
Great story

Is there any chance of a second instalment? We need to know what her tattoo is.

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