Roses to Heaven
From the story collection Seduced and Abandoned, available at Amazon.com
Copyright 2001, 2005 Jade Blackmore
It had been years since I'd seen Eric—so long I did not recognize him 'til a complete stranger pointed him out to me.
He had lost so much weight—he wasn't skinny, but hard and lean. His arms muscular with new tattoos, not so many as to
be freakish, and perfectly placed, as if to draw attention to his body and not to the tattoo itself. He wore nothing but a pair
of navy shorts. Reverting to a giggly junior high school mode, I only had one thought—He's wearing one piece of clothing
I sashayed up to him.
"Did you do this on purpose?"
"Did I do what on purpose?"
I tapped my fingers on the small of his back. He flinched at my long, cool fingernails on his hot skin.
"Get this tattoo. Are you trying to tease every woman who glances at your body? Are trying to make grown women blush
and giggle? I need to know ... aren't you going to let me see?"
"Not right now!!" he laughed, "What sort of man do you think I am?"
And that laugh, that full, clear surfer dude laugh. It comforted me to hear it again.
"I live out in Huntington now. I'll take you there sometime," he promised.
"Is there some story behind this I don't want to hear— were you drunk, was it for some other woman?"
"Oh, don't sound so sad ... it wasn't a random drunken act." Eric reached underneath my blouse and squeezed an
already hard nipple. "I got the tattoos because I was thinking of you and how you used to kiss me all over, leaving little
traces of your lipstick and perfume leading all the way down my stomach to my cock. That was one of the sexiest things
you ever did. There were so many hot little things you did."
"So I inspired your tattoo." I rested my head on his shoulder. "Did you think of me while other girls were following
the trail to heaven?"
"Depends how well they sucked cock."
"Silly boy," I faux slapped him.
"Well, you weren't celibate the past couple years, either. I heard about you and Tom Falcone."
"Ahh, that was a long time ago..." I said.
"At least he had a name. Half of my lovers, I don't even know their last names."
"Didn't leave that much of an impression, huh?"
"Ummm, let me play connect the bars."
The years had dimmed my memory of his body. Madonna once sang "Like A Virgin," and now I knew what the song
meant. I was exploring his body all over again. It bore no resemblance to the man I had loved and lusted for five years
before, the voice and the laugh were all that remained from the man I had known. The body, sleek supine, provoked new
desires that surpassed even the ones I'd had in for him the past. I had never thought it was possible to lust for a man
more than I had lusted for Eric when we lived together, but the passage of time had proven me wrong.
I kissed the small of his back—the slight musky smell, the gentle salty taste I had missed for years. Brushing my cheek
against it, I glimpsed the tattooed bars that colored his flesh, curving around his hips. I followed them with kisses and the
bar descended down, disappearing into his pubic hair, accentuating the obvious and drawing the line of sight where
it would go even more naturally. With no time to contain or indeed perceive my impulses, I took action. It was as though
no time had passed, as though I had just sucked him yesterday. I could tell he had just taken a shower, the smell
of soap mingled with his sweat. The bars that surreptitiously highlighted his cock intensified my lust. My only regret was
that I could not see the look of pleasure on his face as I sucked him, but I heard him moan that sweet half moan, half
evil laugh and felt his hand slinking through my hair.
* * * *
I was never one to sit still for anything—a candidate for Ritalin from the start. But for Eric, I'd suffer through even the
rigors of a multiple tattoo sessions. I sat in Adara's Sunset Strip studio, still as a statue while he etched a creation we'd
specifically concocted for Eric's enjoyment. Knowing absolutely nothing about tattooing, Adara and I spent a good
hour talking about the effect I wanted to achieve. "Aah, yes that's good, original. Using a tattoo to seduce your lover. I
There are very few things harder than sitting still for hours. I listened to soothing, meditative music and thought
moderately innocent thoughts about him. When I went home I had to sleep on my stomach while the tattoos on my lower
back set and crusted over. The things I did for love!! The next weekend, we repeated the same process on my hips and
stomach. The tiny pink roses looked so cute once they settled into my skin, so dainty. Adara noted my squeamishness and
placed the closest rose just above my pubic bone, careful not o get to close to any ultra-sensitive skin. She wished me luck
and told me she liked it when tattoos were used as lovemaking aids. Of course it dawned on me that I had invested a lot of
time, pain, and money in getting these exquisite tattoos. Oh, well, I reasoned, if Eric had disappeared again, I would surely
meet another man soon to enjoy them. Luckily, I did not have to wait that long because Eric was at the bar when I got
there. He and his friends from work were playing pool.
Although I was a terrible pool player, I joined them, taking the game as a subtle opportunity for Eric to discover my
tattoos. After all I was wearing low cut jeans and no panties. I made sure to stretch way across the table to aim my pool
cue, giving Eric an ample view of my back. I knew he saw Adara's handiwork when I heard him moan, "Lordy, lordy,
that woman is crazy—look what she gone and done." He slipped his arms around my waist.
"Carry on without us, boys."
Patience was never one of Eric's virtues, but he managed to wait until we got to his apartment to do anything more
than smooth his fingers along my waist and my back. Its almost fresh ... fresh paint." As we drove down towards the beach, the people seemed
to thin out as we got closer to Eric's house.
* * * *
"Follow the roses to heaven ... You did it for me. I thought I'd return the favor."
I let him watch me gyrate slowly, teasing him, letting him watch the sweat lingering on my stomach.
"Welcome home," I whispered, leaning against the pillows propped up on his bed. His fingers and his lips followed the
painted pink roses all the way to heaven. As surely as I had followed the trail to the paradise between his legs.
Eric looked up at me and smiled, smacking his lips as he fingered my pussy. He didn't take his eyes off me. "That's so
beautiful ... you shaved yourself clean for me. I love when you do that."
His tousled head of dishwater blond hair satisfied my eyes while his sweet minty mouth lapped my pussy until I
convulsed with delight. I rewarded him for his oral prowess by riding his cock. And the look in his eyes—intent and loving, but inherently
salacious, as he studied my bouncing, oiled tits and the pink roses etched into my pale skin.
"I always thought your body was a work of art," he said, "Now I have proof."