I was getting my first tattoo. I wanted to be happy, ecstatic even, yet my stomach churned with trepidation and anticipation. I was woozy like when I’d eaten too much junk food and rode the tilt-a-whirl. Once he’d seen my design, Rock left in a rush. I shut and locked my door after him. He’d flipped all my girly parts on, and I wondered if I’d be able to hold on to my fading resolve. My nipples puckered tight and...

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