Hairdresser Lesbian Experience
After a short summer vacation with too much to do, I thought I'd get my hair done before the school doors open for the year. One thing, one project, one crisis lead to another and I just couldn't get to my usual hair stylist in time. I called three days before school started and she was booked solid, right through the following week. So out of desperation, and with my eyes closed tight, I prayed that things would work out as I, with great hesitation, opened the heavy metal door of this new walk-in salon. I mean, I'm not looking for anything special, but I need to look presentable when I go back to school. The rush of air conditioning calmed me. Nice place. It seemed clean and the girl looked good, whatever that means, so I stayed.
"What's your name?" the girl with the freckled nose said as she smiled at me, looking directly into my eyes, not my hair, which is what I would expect, but my eyes. I looked back. "Patty," I blurted quickly. She put down her pen and told me the bad news "we're closing, really we are closed; we closed at 5." Seven goddamn minutes, I hissed silently. She could see my frustration. "I'll cut you, if you don't mind paying with cash." Yes! Thank you so much! I have no time, really this is my only chance, thank... she stopped me mid-sentence, "come on."
I don't want a lot cut off, just shaped a bit in the back, I instructed. "I'm Lindsay" she smiled again. We chatted about the usual topics during the cut. And I must say I was very relaxed with no other customers waiting and no other employees making noise; this was rather enjoyable. Serendipity, I thought.
All of the lights were off except the few that were necessary, so as not to attract any more customers. She clipped and asked me about my husband. What's there to say, I thought. She talked on and on. Thank God, because I didn't have much to say. Her fingers felt good on my scalp and neck.
“Wash?” Yes! I almost squealed. I followed Lindsay over to the sink. She wore a thin, blue and white flowered summer dress that fit her well. It drooped down loosely, showing off her cleavage and her extremely freckled back. “Sit down, Patty,” she gently spun the chair my way. I leaned my head back onto the hard sink. The edge was mis-shaped and was uncomfortable, but I didn’t care. Getting my hair washed is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Her hands felt so good! Slow, circular movements almost put me to sleep. Lindsay could detect my pleasure. “Feel nice?” Yes! I almost squealed, again. Over and over, her fingers rubbed my head and neck. She slowly rinsed and then re-lathered. Re-lathered! I thought. Her fingers had much experience for being so youthful. Not a day over 26, for sure. But so good; she’s good, wow! she is so good. I smiled.
Without doubt, Lindsay took the shampooing seriously, I thought. Her touch moved from my scalp to my eyebrows, to my forehead, and then circled my face so gently. “Is this part of the shampoo?” I asked with my eyes closed. “Not usually,” she answered. Then, out of the blue and with no warning, like magic, she kissed me on the lips. Just a kiss. Just a long, wet, sweet kiss. She just kissed me! My eyes opened wide. “Sorry!” She said, holding her breath. I smiled and with no words I brought my face up to meet hers. We kissed with the water running into the sink like an impractical, but perfectly timed waterfall. We kissed and kissed and she rinsed me while we kissed more. My hand moved up, out of the safety of the salon apron and roamed her summer dress. I lunged into her breasts from the neckline. We kissed with hunger. Our hands began the same dance. Our awkward movements began to rhyme. Our kissing migrated from lips to ears to cheeks to necks. Her freckled chest was on my mouth. I sucked her nipples right into my mouth. I was sucking her tits! Her hands were so good. She found my wetness. There I was at 5:45, being fingered by a 26 year old hairdresser. Son of a bitch, this is good, I thought. I almost squealed, again.
"What's your name?" the girl with the freckled nose said as she smiled at me, looking directly into my eyes, not my hair, which is what I would expect, but my eyes. I looked back. "Patty," I blurted quickly. She put down her pen and told me the bad news "we're closing, really we are closed; we closed at 5." Seven goddamn minutes, I hissed silently. She could see my frustration. "I'll cut you, if you don't mind paying with cash." Yes! Thank you so much! I have no time, really this is my only chance, thank... she stopped me mid-sentence, "come on."
I don't want a lot cut off, just shaped a bit in the back, I instructed. "I'm Lindsay" she smiled again. We chatted about the usual topics during the cut. And I must say I was very relaxed with no other customers waiting and no other employees making noise; this was rather enjoyable. Serendipity, I thought.
All of the lights were off except the few that were necessary, so as not to attract any more customers. She clipped and asked me about my husband. What's there to say, I thought. She talked on and on. Thank God, because I didn't have much to say. Her fingers felt good on my scalp and neck.
“Wash?” Yes! I almost squealed. I followed Lindsay over to the sink. She wore a thin, blue and white flowered summer dress that fit her well. It drooped down loosely, showing off her cleavage and her extremely freckled back. “Sit down, Patty,” she gently spun the chair my way. I leaned my head back onto the hard sink. The edge was mis-shaped and was uncomfortable, but I didn’t care. Getting my hair washed is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Her hands felt so good! Slow, circular movements almost put me to sleep. Lindsay could detect my pleasure. “Feel nice?” Yes! I almost squealed, again. Over and over, her fingers rubbed my head and neck. She slowly rinsed and then re-lathered. Re-lathered! I thought. Her fingers had much experience for being so youthful. Not a day over 26, for sure. But so good; she’s good, wow! she is so good. I smiled.
Without doubt, Lindsay took the shampooing seriously, I thought. Her touch moved from my scalp to my eyebrows, to my forehead, and then circled my face so gently. “Is this part of the shampoo?” I asked with my eyes closed. “Not usually,” she answered. Then, out of the blue and with no warning, like magic, she kissed me on the lips. Just a kiss. Just a long, wet, sweet kiss. She just kissed me! My eyes opened wide. “Sorry!” She said, holding her breath. I smiled and with no words I brought my face up to meet hers. We kissed with the water running into the sink like an impractical, but perfectly timed waterfall. We kissed and kissed and she rinsed me while we kissed more. My hand moved up, out of the safety of the salon apron and roamed her summer dress. I lunged into her breasts from the neckline. We kissed with hunger. Our hands began the same dance. Our awkward movements began to rhyme. Our kissing migrated from lips to ears to cheeks to necks. Her freckled chest was on my mouth. I sucked her nipples right into my mouth. I was sucking her tits! Her hands were so good. She found my wetness. There I was at 5:45, being fingered by a 26 year old hairdresser. Son of a bitch, this is good, I thought. I almost squealed, again.
13年前
