Ok, I'm finally getting some of my momentum back. While I'm likely not going to be able to post regularly yet, I will try to write when the clouds part and I have the drive. Once I get out of my funk, I should be able to get back on a regular schedule. For now, here is a post about a topic I love very much: My nipple rings.
I remember how spontaneous it felt when I went to get them. Spontaneous even though I had been thinking about getting them pierced since I knew that was an option. I've always been a lover of nipple play, and I had tugged on nipple rings with my teeth before. Everything I read and saw about them made me want them more, made them seem more erotic and inviting. It got to the point where I couldn't imagine not getting it done. I knew it would hurt, and I knew they would take time to heal, but I also knew I would love the way they look and feel. I just had to do it.
I finally got the nerve to go to the tattoo and piercing parlor when I was staying on campus over Thanksgiving break my Junior year. A friend of mine who lived on the floor below me was staying too, and I grabbed her on my way out, not really knowing if I was actually going to go through with it. I believe I told her that I was just going to see how much it would cost and make sure that the place was clean. Maybe schedule a time if everything seemed like it was going to be safe.
When I got to the shop, however, I knew I was going the whole way. I was in it.
The man at the counter told me that the place was closing in twenty minutes, but that he didn't mind doing me. The rest of the people working there were apparently in the back giving each other tattoos for fun. It had been a slow night.
I explained to him that I wanted to pierce my nipples. He showed me my options for first rings, suggesting full circles because they apparently heal better than the bars I had wanted. He lifted his shirt up, exposing his beautifully tattooed chest to show me his own rings. He told me that it would cost me $45 for the piercing and the stainless steel rings. Back then I didn't have a job (had lost my on campus job the year before when my college decided to cut financial aid options) so I was taken aback by the price for a moment, but decided that I deserved a gift.
"Have you ever gotten a piercing before?" he asked, casually glancing at my ears.
"Not permanently," I said, "I've had needles stuck through me before. Just no rings."
He looked somewhat shocked at that revelation, but he also was impressed that I was going for nipples with my first piercing. "My dad has told me that he will rip out any piercings he sees on me," I explained, "So I've gotta get them done where he can't see. That leaves pretty much three places." He laughed and took me and my friend out back.
He was extremely careful and methodical in everything he did. He cleaned off the table before I got on it. He changed gloves every time he finished something. Everything was clean and neat. I felt very safe as he pulled the needle and ring out of the first bag, getting everything ready for my right nipple.
I was a little nervous as I waited for him to start, but I also was excited to go through it. I was ready. He clamped my nipple tightly, and the sharp pain surprised me a bit. It took longer than I thought to become a dull ache. From years of subjecting my nipples to a lot of pain, I knew I could adjust, but I rarely went from just the air to a hard clamp. My breath caught for a moment.
Then I saw him grab the needle. This is it, I thought, Bring it on. When the needle went in I gripped the side of the table hard and my legs went stiff and shook a bit. But, much to the surprise of me, the piercer, and my friend, I started laughing. As I laughed I realized that the pain was not bad at all, and even when I felt the sharp pain again as he pushed the needle out and the ring through, I was beyond excited.
As evidenced by the erection I was now sporting.
I jumped up under the pretense of checking the piercing in the mirror, but I have little doubt that he saw my cock pressing against from my jeans before I had the chance. The realization that I was that hard came too late. But he didn't say a thing.
When I felt that I had gone down enough to resume, he did the left one. It hurt a bit more, but again it was not anything I couldn't handle. This time I didn't even bother to hide my erection. Not only had I gotten hard again from the pain in my nipples, but I had started leaking pre-cum enough to leave a nice dark spot in my crotch. The exhilaration of the pain and the pleasure I felt with it had brought me very close to an orgasm. I didn't even have time to think about the implications of the fact that four puncture wounds in my chest turned me on. I was too busy listening to all the health tips from the guy and admiring the new accessories I had sticking out of my body.
I can't lie: I thought about paying him more to just go ahead and do my cock with it. But I was able to step back from the piercing euphoria for long enough to just leave. I had felt the same after getting my tattoo the year earlier (I got hard for that too). When it was over I just wanted to get more and more. Body modification had become like an addiction to me in that moment. It isn't a real addiction in that I constantly think about it and perform it on myself, but it can get that way in the moment.
I can't wait for my next piercing and my next tattoo. When I have the money I'm going in for a double job: getting an industrial in my ear and a tattoo on my shoulder at the same time. What can I say? I'm a glutten for punishment.