The tattoo

The tattoo had been the thing that first caught my eye. A fiery red and green dragon wound down around the girl’s muscular arm from her shoulder to where the tip of its tail curled seductively around her elbow. It was ripe and erotic like Japanese anime. The dragon was inked in vivid colors and boasted a bright pink phallus that seemed to pulse with life. Caroline must have felt me staring because she turned in her seat and smiled back at me.

“He is so boring.” I whispered, referring to the lecture, embarrassed at having been caught admiring her.

Caroline smiled, “Well, this is a class about numbers,” she offered, "not rockets."

We laughed a little at that, then retreated back into our private thoughts as Dr. Boyer’s lecture droned on. Before long my eyes wandered back to the tattoo and the smooth, graceful curve of Caroline’s neck.

Truth be told, I was roiling in lust for Caroline. The attraction had been as instantaneous as it was unexpected. I had been heterosexual for my entire life; never before had I experienced nor sought out relations with other women. I had been blissfully happy, newly married woman until I had decided to pursue my masters degree at the local college while my husband Paul was busy working at building his new law firm.

Caroline had walked into class that first night and had captivated me. She was dark and exotic-looking, with a mess of long, cumin-colored ringlets and a peppering of faint freckles across her nose and cheeks. She wore jeans and cowboy boots and a gray over-sized sweatshirt that said MARINES across the chest in navy blue. She introduced herself as Caroline Zarga, extending a hand, every one of her fingers adorned with silver bands. She parted her lush, coral-painted lips in a warm smile. Caroline had set her bag on the floor and fished out a small, plastic tote. She set it down in the center of her desk. I was temporarily distracted by movement from within it.

“What’s that?” I asked.

Caroline grinned at me. “Hector,” she said, and tugged the lid off the tote.

Hector, as it turned out, was a baby monitor lizard, about six inches long. He was a beautiful creature with black scales that glistened and bright blinking eyes. A pair of yellow stripes ran down the length of his body down to the tip of his sinewy tail.

“Oh, he’s pretty.” I exclaimed.

It was clear Caroline had not expected my reaction but was, nevertheless, delighted by it. She reached in and fished Hector out, holding him proudly out to me.

“He can bite sometimes,” she confessed, “and he’s wicked fast. I had to take him to the vet today and I didn't have time to take him home before class."

I reached out and ran my fingertips down the monitor’s back. Hector was slick and warm under my touch. His bead-like eyes watched me warily, his tiny claws flexed in the open air.

“I used to have an iguana,” I told Caroline.

Caroline looked at me; her hazel pools appraised me silently for a few moments.

“Cool.” She said simply.

Midway through the class, Caroline sat up straight and tugged her sweatshirt off. The garment had concealed a body that was deliciously voluptuous with broad shoulders and heavy breasts that strained against thin cotton tee-shirt. She was thick-bodied with ample, womanly curves. Caroline was wrapped in skin the color of caramel that, aside from the dragon tattoo, appeared flawlessly unblemished.

It was that tattoo really, that had awakened my desire that very first night. It was so erotic, so blatantly sensual that I could not take my eyes off it. It stirred me somehow, spawned a hot flush that seemed to slowly creep over the surface of my skin. I missed most of Dr. Boyer’s lecture and when it had ended, I was dismayed to find that I had failed to take even one single note during the class.

I fumbled my things back into my bag, confused by my fascination with this stranger. Caroline collected Hector and started to leave. She stopped, pausing in front of me.

“See you next week,” she started, then realizing she did not know my name, she waited, shifting from foot to foot.

“Alex.” I said.

“Alex” Caroline repeated, as if committing the names to memory, then she was gone.

Several weeks had passed since that first night and the semester was pretty well into full swing. Since then I had come to know a bit more about Caroline through our brief exchanges before, after and sometimes during class. She was also pursuing her masters, taking advantage of the college tuition reimbursment she'd accumulated from her years in the national guard. Caroline had a small apartment with a roommate in Hoboken and made the 40 minute commute in four days a week.

I knew very little about Caroline’s personal life. Though I was intensely curious, I had no idea if the roommate she had eluded to was male or female, friend or lover. She never asked me details about my relationship but I had seen her looking at my ring a few times. She was easy to talk to and each conversation seemed to end too soon for both of us. I got the distinct impression she wanted to get to know me more, though not for anything less innocent than friendship.

I often thought about asking her to grab a coffee after class but it was nearly ten by the time class ended and I knew she faced a long drive home. Aside from that, I was conflicted by the feelings she evoked in me. On the surface, she was very cool and seemed like a lot of fun. Caroline was quick to laugh and joke and she was always in good spirits. She was unique and interesting, and I discovered, a dedicated and brilliant student.

Then, there was the other side of it, the feeling of being drawn to her in a purely physical sense. Waiting for her to arrive for class I was always seized by this excited, anxious feeling in my gut. It was a fluttering deep inside akin, to the same sense of heightened sexual anticipation that I sometimes experienced before dates that I knew would end with sex. I never knew those same feelings could be attributed to a woman, but they were. If I had to admit it, those feelings were even stronger with Caroline. When she’d breeze into class, often mere moments before the Professor, my heart would quicken and I feel myself suddenly awash with a tickling warmth. As she sat scribbling in her notebook, I was assaulted by thoughts of what kissing her would be like, of what fucking her would be like. Admittedly, I had only the vaguest impression of what such an act would entail, but it did not stop my ceaseless imaginings.

I was tormented. There were moments when I’d feel her eyes on me, long stares that lingered over me. Sometimes, in conversation, she could seem almost flirtatious then other times, I would become convinced the roommate she spoken of was a boyfriend and that her interests did not extend to forbidden lesbian trysts. One day, I came up on her talking animatedly on her cell phone outside of class. Her tone was teasing and she giggled, her voice sounding like tiny bells. I walked past Caroline, my head down as if engrossed in the patterns of cracks in the pavement. She abruptly ended the call and pocketed the cell phone, remnants of a secret smile still lingering on her lovely mouth. I decided then, man or woman, Caroline had someone and my disappoint was palatable.

The one day, I got arrived early to class to find Caroline had gotten there ahead of me, which was unusual, and she looked devastated. Alarmed by the change in her demeanor, I dropped down next to her.

“Caroline, what happened?”

She looked up and I saw her beautiful hazel eyes were pooled with tears.

“Hector died this morning.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry. Did he get sick?” I knew from experience, reptiles required more care than most pets and that they were prone to sudden sicknesses.

“He was so pretty. Wasn’t he?” She asked, ignoring my question.

“Yes. Do you know what happened?” Her sorrow made me ache.

“No, when I went to feed him before class, he was just gone. He was curled up on his heat rock but he was dead.” Caroline’s statement came out as a near wail.

I reached out and patted her arm. “I am so sorry,” I said simply, unable to think of anything more comforting.

Caroline nodded. She sat back and wiped her eyes. The class seemed exceeding long that night. For most all of it, Caroline sat, unmoving, rigid with grief for her lost pet. When class had ended, she stood up and began gathering her things.

“Alex, do you drink coffee?” It took me a minute to respond to her question.

“Sure. You want to grab one before you head back?” I said, and I wondered how ridiculously hopeful I sounded.

Caroline smiled and looked relieved by the promise of company. We walked to the student center in virtual silence, got our coffees and settled into a table in the back. We both sipped and seemed to be waiting for something.

“Thanks for this,” Caroline said, raising her paper cup of machine vended java. “I guess I just didn’t want to go home yet. Nadene never liked Hector. She’s not very sympathetic.”

Ah, the roommate. I wanted to press a bit more about Nadene but I left it alone, letting Caroline take the conversational lead.

"Hector was a gift from my ex-boyfriend. Hector was the only great thing he ever did for me. We met in basic training, he was a liar and a cheat but he loved lizards...his only redeemable quality." Caroline shrugged and managed a soft chuckle.

There it was, I had my confirmation that Caroline was not a lesbian, she was just heartbroken. Strangely disappointed, but grateful to be free of my expectations and misconceptions, I relaxed into conversation with her, a conversation which flowed easily around a barrage of subjects from husbands and boyfriends to family to classes. After a while, we had drank our fill of watery coffee. I walked with her back to her car.

“Well, thanks Alex, have a good weekend.” Caroline said, unlocking the door to a beat up yellow camry.

Suddenly, without having a clear understanding of how it came to be, her mouth was on mine, soft and tentative, just our lips touching. The contact ignited something inside me and I pressed forward, into her, kissing her back. Caroline tasted like the mocha coffee she’d been drinking, sweet and nutty. Her mouth was small, her tongue almost politely seeking the tip of my own. I sank both hands into the soft mounds of curls and felt her strong arms go around me in the dark. We stood there, kissing against her car, oblivious to the few passing cars or the buzzing streetlamps lining the lot.

Caroline was the first to break free. She mumbled something incoherent and dropped down into her seat. I backed away, in a pleasant state of shock. She closed the door and revved the car to life. I expected her to say something more, anything but she didn’t. She just smiled, waved, and drove off into the night.

I drove home to find Paul sleeping. I sat up for hours in bed, trying to process what I was feeling. I could still taste her on my tongue and my lips felt a little swollen. Paul and I made love the following afternoon. I enjoyed the sex with my husband but thoughts of Caroline kept penetrating my bliss. Paul did not seem to notice my disconnect however. He left Monday for another business conference in Cleveland after kissing me deeply at the door and making me promise to "miss him terribly".

Back at school that following Thursday night, I was anxious and uncertain what my next meeting with Caroline would bring. I got to class fifteen minutes early and hovered in the alleyway between the building and the parking lot. Caroline arrived shortly after.

“Hey, how was your weekend?” She asked, smiling, overly casual.

She was dressed in a bright orange and turquoise tunic, with wide, flowing sleeves. Her neck was swathed in a deep blue scarf adorned with tiny blue crystals. Caroline’s hair was wet, and the damp ringlets hugged the sides of her face calling attention to her chocolate freckles and the tiny diamond stud embedded in the side of her nose. The piercing was new, I thought it only added to her already powerful allure.

Caroline looked up at the building and sighed. “I don’t feel like going to class tonight.” she admitted, leveling a look at me that spoke a sweet secret right to my loins.

Forty-five minutes later, we sat drinking Coronas on her couch.

Caroline took a long swing from her bottle, retrieved the wedge of lime from the neck and sucked at it and said, "I like you, Alex. You have pretty body, like a pixie.”

All at once, Caroline seemed to be a bolder version of herself. She set down her beer and reached for me. Without the slightest protest, I let her slip my shirt up over my head, let her work my jeans down my hips until I could kick them off. She stripped down, revealing a translucent black bra and thong. Her dark nipples pressed against the shimmering fabric. I covered her breasts with my hands, feeling those nipples rise into the hollows of my palms. We laid down on the narrow couch, exploring each other,shy at first, but with an ever increasing urgency.

Aroused and emboldened, I slipped my hands down her hips and slid my fingers under her thong. I probed her sex with my fingertips, surprised that it was both like and unlike my own. Her pubis was shaved and smooth. She was slick and wet. Caroline moved up over me, kneeling along side me. She slid my underwear down and off my legs. She covered my thighs and stomach with a feathering of kisses. I felt myself opening to her as she spread my legs and settled down in between them. The first flick of her tongue was like fire. She spread me wider and covered me with her mouth. I rocked my hips, moving up into her as her tongue pressed and sucked. When I felt the orgasm building in my stomach, furling and unfurling, I covered my face with a pillow, howling into the damp cotton as I exploded in Caroline’s mouth.

I was still panting when she pulled the pillow aside and kissed me. Her mouth was wet with my juices. I felt consumed with the need to see every inch of her. I reached up and unhooked her bra, freeing her heavy breasts. I sucked one then, the other into my mouth, biting down on her nipples, rolling my tongue over the bumps of each areola. I had no idea if I was doing things right, but each time I put my mouth against the smooth and silky flesh, she shuddered and cooed. I gripped the hard muscles of her ass and began to run my tongue over the inside of her thighs, up into her folds. I gently sucked at her swollen clitoris. Caroline grabbed fistfuls of my short hair and pulled me tighter against her. I felt shivers of delight wash over me as Caroline suddenly came with a frenzied thrusting of her hips and a chorus of lustful obscenities.

We fell back against the couch together, chests heaving. After a few moments, I lifted Caroline's inked arm from my belly. I gazed at the tattoo for a few long moments.

"Why a dragon?" I asked, still a bit breathless.

"Why not?" Caroline sat up. "I used to have a thing for dragons."

"Why does yours have a penis?"

"I used to have a thing for those too." She answered, and we both laughed.

"I'm not gay, Caroline. I still have a thing for penises." I admitted.

"I don't know what you and I, what just happened, means. But I know I'm not a lesbian and I've never been a cheat. I love Paul. Before tonight, I never did anything like this." I confessed.

"Are you sure?" Caroline cocked her head and licked her lips suggestively, "You seemed pretty okay at it."

She saw my face, and quickly became serious. She pulled me closer and kissed me, tenderly, not with lust. "I really like you, Alex. I don't want to fuck anything up for you."

I lay next to her, our shoulders touching. I wondered how we must look together, her dark, full breasts and hips transposed with my thin frame, pale and almost boyish. The buds of my breasts seem to glow in the dim light. I felt euphoric, perplexed, but euphoric. I had to admit that I felt more intimately connected to this relative stranger than I did with my own husband. I left Caroline's house, awash in confusion and riddled with terrible guilt. I had betrayed my husband but what was worse, it seemed to have been so much more than just sex.

That night I dreamed not of Caroline, but of her dragon. He chased me through familiar streets and past a cafes where my friends dined al fresco under bright blue umbrellas. I could feel his raging hot breath on my heels. I stumbled and he was upon me, smelling of sulfur, his throbbing cock pressed obscenely against my body. While I screamed with revulsion, the dragon began to rape and devour me, tearing at my flesh with iridescent teeth while the onlookers gawked and cheered.