Sure why not! Especially if it was her idea.So right after dinner I helped her wash off the magic marker, shaved her pussy again, and took her out to ...ook for a tattoo artist. Gail had told me where she had gotten hers done so we went right there first. The guy was old but still in business. He smiled when we told him what we wanted and watched as he pulled out an old photo album to show us a Polaroid picture of our daughter’s tattooed pussy. It even had the date on it. My wife sat in his chair. He wasn’t being bad he was just being a dog. My dog and me, completely quiet and alone in my kitchen, only the sounds of panting and now it wasn’t just him breathing hard it was me too and I didn’t know what to do.All the humping, and feeling his long red dripping dick on my leg, and then that nose! That was a surprise, as you can imagine, a shock but a nice shock; a hot shock, teasing me there and I stopped playing and started petting him, directing him. The wine, my body, my breathing,. He is running his hand slowly up my skirt and he can feel my wetness. He runs his wine glass along the outline of my breast. We spend the next hours slow dancing and sipping on wine. He discreetly ever so gently plays with my brests through my silk shirt, keeping my titties so very taut and hard. He kisses me with the equality of the goodbye warkiss in Cold Mountain. His seduction is almost complete, I give in, I ask him if we can leave. He smiles with victory in his eyes, and he kisses me one. I took mine graciously, taking a sip of the sweet liquid. “Let’s go upstairs.” He said. Those words. Those three little words that I had been waiting for. My sudden uncertainty must have been written all over my face. Scott came over and gently took my hand, placing a soft kiss on my cheek, “Don’t worry, I just have a better sound system up there. We can just hang out for a bit.” A wave of relief washed over me as I smiled at him. I gripped his hand tighter and made my way upstairs. His room.