
                           HAIRDRESSER
                                   by Les Brian

     I've been going to the same hairdresser for about three years. 
Carol is blond, in her late 20s and has a daughter who's three.  
Her husband and she split up a couple of years back, and I've heard
about a string of boyfriends, none of whom lasted although none of
them sounded particularly bad.   I've always liked her and when she
left her old place to open a new shop with another hairdresser last
year, I followed her.
     She and I are friends.  I was always hot for her, but I never
did anything about it.  For one reason, she also cuts my wife's
hair.  For another, a good hairdresser is hard to replace.
     Because I work for myself, my time isn't as rigid as some. 
Carol tends to fit me into slots that otherwise would be hard to
fill.  So I wasn't surprised when she asked me if she could move
my appointment ahead a couple of days, to 5:30 that day.  I left
a note for my wife and kept the appointment.
     It was a hot day in mid summer, and I was wearing a tee shirt
and shorts.  I'm in my early 30's, about 20 pounds heavier than I
was in college, and still have my hair.  Carol's receptionist said
hi and had me sit in the waiting area.  I picked up one of those
European hair magazines hairdressers always seem to have lying
around.
     "Hi."
     I looked up.  Carol was standing in the doorway to the salon. 
She had on a thin cotton dress that looked to be lowcut, but she
had an apron on over it.  Her blond hair was straight at the
moment, with half bangs.
     "How have you been?" she asked, while she was washing my hair. 
She always washed it twice, running her hands through it and
rubbing my scalp firmly.  For some reason, it always gave me a hard
on.  Fortunately, she always had an apron on me as well.  With this
heat and my shorts, it was a lot more noticeable.
     "How have I been?  The usual.  Clients who want to pay
tomorrow for projects that were due today.  How about you?"
     "Well, Jimmy and I broke up."  Jimmy was the latest boyfriend;
she'd had him for a couple of months.  She leaned over and I could
feel her stomach pressing against my arm.
     "Sorry to hear it."
     "I'm not.  He's ok, you know, but boring.  I mean, I don't
need to party every night, but I want a little life, you know, not
just someone to watch TV with."
     "I know.  Roz's promotion was a good one, but she's working
all the time now."  It was true.  Roz, my wife, was a project
manager with a local consulting firm.  It wasn't fast track, but
there was a good chunk of profit sharing waiting at the end of five
years.  We both agreed that the hours were worth it, but it seemed
like I hadn't been laid in weeks.
     "...been laid in weeks," Carol said.
     "What?" I asked.  She couldn't have said....
     Carol smiled.  She had a great smile.  With the bangs, she
reminded me of my older brother's girlfriends when I was in junior
high school.  She leaned forward to brush my hair and her apron
fell away.  I couldn't resist, so I took a look.  Nice long
breasts.  No bra.  I could just imagine coming on them.
     "So how's it look?" she said, stepping back.
     I straightened up, ears red and looked at the haircut in the
mirror.  Carol and I long ago agreed that I liked it short and
couldn't have purple hair because of my clients, but the rest was
up to her.  "It looks great," I said.  "Like it always does."
     "You spoil me."  She smiled.  "There's just one more spot,"
she said, stepping in front of me.  She reached over with her
scissors and her mound pressed against my hand on the armrest.  I
kept it there both because I liked it and to avoid drawing her
attention to it.  After all, it was an accident, right?
     She patted my hair.  "You're fine."  She rubbed some mousse
on her hands and started to rub it in.
     "I'm leaving, Carol," said her receptionist.  "Can you lock
up?"
     "Sure," she said.  "Lock the door, will you, and I'll let Sam
out."
     She combed my hair until we heard the lock snap.
     "So, do think I'm getting old?" she asked.
     "No way."
     "Jimmy thought so.  He kept screwing around with some college
girl.  Someone who was 20." 
     "I'd be the last person to think it.  You're looking great."
     She leaned forward and her breast pressed against my face. 
I smiled.
     "What?" she asked.
     "I like the feel," I said, trying to sound like I was joking.
     "There's more," she said.  I looked at her in the mirror.  She
looked back at me.  "It's been weeks, Sam," she said.  "I'm not
looking to break anything up.  I just want to, well, you know."
     "I do.  What happens though?  Do I have to get another
hairdresser?"
     "Sam, it's hot.  It's so hot that maybe this is all a dream. 
A nice dream for you.  A nice one for me."  She put her hands on
my shoulders and swung the chair slightly.
     "If it's a wet one, I hope I don't wake up before I come."
     She laughed and untied her apron.  Then she reached back and
untied mine.  Her eyes went to my dick.  "Dream on," she said and
unzipped my zipper.
     I arched slightly to let her pull my pants and underware off. 
She unhooked the straps of her dress and it fell to her waist.  Her
breasts were long and the nipples were large and hard.  I reached
out my hand to touch one and she moaned slightly.
     She pulled off her panties and, raising her dress, slid her
pussy on my leg.  She reached to touch my cock and rub the pearl
of moisture that had formed on it.
     "I don't have any rubbers and anyway, if you don't go inside
me than it's just heavy petting, right?"
     "Can't argue with your logic."  I reached out and slid my
hands on her crack.  It was slick and the hair was moist.  She
rocked slightly on it and grabbed my dick.  I slid my finger back
and forth, back and forth.  Her clit was hard enough to feel, so
I slid my finger on it.  She closed her eyes, beads of sweat on
her lip, her breasts, her forehead.  Her hair smelled sweet and as
she swung her head, it struck my face softly.
     "Oh, yes, harder," she whispered.  She braced her hands on the
arms of the chair, her forehead resting on my shoulder.  I reached
out to touch one nipple, and held it between my fingers.  She let
out a breath in a long, hot sigh.
     "Lie down," she said.  "I want to taste you in my mouth."
     I spread some aprons on the floor and ripped off my shirt. 
I lay on my back and she immediately straddled my face.  I licked
her, sliding my tongue in and out of her hole.  It smelled sweet,
like her hair, and tasted salty.
     She grabbed my cock and began rubbing it with her hands. 
Little beads of semen kept gathering at the hole and she daintily
licked each one off.  She circled my cock with her lips, stopping
at the head.  My tongue was sliding around her clit with a wild
mind of its own.
     She sucked on the head of my dick, her tongue licking it while
it was inside her mouth.  With her hands, she kept stroking the
length of my dick, now slick with her saliva.  She started to
shake, moaning deeply.
     "Yes," she whispered, "make me come now."
     I slid my tongue back and forth over her clit.  With my hands,
I pushed her hips at my face.  Juice kept running down my chin and
the air was hot and humid around me.  Her pussy smelled slightly
perfumed and salty, sweaty, and slick.  I jabbed my tongue in and
out of her pussy, then whipped her clit from side to side.  
     Carol stiffened for a second than began to buck.  Her pussy
ground into my face again and again.  She took my cock in her mouth
and sucked and sucked it, but then she couldn't breathe and let it
go.  Her pussy ground up and down on my face.  Her spasms finally
subsided and she put her head on my thighs, her hair spilling on
my stomach and legs.
     "Oh Sam," she said, "you're so sweet."  She blew gently on my
dick.  "He's still hot, don'tcha know."  She started licking it.
     "Wait," I said.  "I want to come on your breasts.  In the
chair."
     "You men.  I bet you think about that every time I cut your
hair."  I smiled and reddened.
     "Well get up," she said, rolling off me.  In a second, we were
in place.  She crouched on me, her pussy wet on my ankles.  She
smiled at me, both hands grabbing my dick.  "Like this?" she asked.
     "Exactly."
     She leaned forward and slid her mouth around my cock.  Slowly,
she slid it in her mouth until I felt the tip touch the back of her
throat.  Just as slowly, she slid it out.  "Ooh," she said, "I like
the taste of your come."
     She began to stroke it with her hands, keeping the head in her
mouth.  She sucked on it and licked the tip.  One hand reached to
touch my balls.  Around and around the tip of my cock, sliding
across the head, she ran her tongue.  My cock felt rock hard and
I felt like I was almost coming without actually having to come.
     Carol shoved it in her mouth again and again, licking the
sides with each thrust.  "It's wet enough," she said, then leaned
forward.  She wrapped her breasts around my cock, holding them in
place with her hands.  She rubbed her furry pussy on my leg.  The
touch of her breasts was soft and erotic, slippery and warm.  She
rubbed up and down up and down, licking the tip with her
outstretched tongue on the upstroke.  
     "Come," she whispered, "Come on my tits.  Come on my face."
     It was all I needed.  "Faster," I whispered.  She rubbed
faster and faster, squeezing my cock between her breasts.  She
jammed her mouth on the head, sucking and licking.  I felt a
familiar tightening in my balls and, like she felt it, she opened
her mouth and rubbed her breasts faster and faster.  Her hair, wet
with sweat, little come drops, and her pussy juice from my mouth,
stuck to her face, her breasts, my cock, my legs.
     "I'm going to," I said, "I'm going to..." Almost like
molasses, I could feel the come begin to rise.
     "Come," she whispered, "please come.  Please come.  Come on
my face."
     My cock erupted.  The first spurt hit her lips and falling,
spattered on her breasts.  She kept rubbing and a second, third
spurt shot out, dripping off her chin and falling on her breasts. 
I tried to look, but my eyes actually crossed and I had to close
them.  She rubbed until the throbbing ceased.  Then, stiffly, she
stood up, shaking her legs.  Come was still dripping off her chin
and rolling down one nipple and between her breasts.
     "Thank you, Sam," she said.  "That was very sweet,"
     "Jimmy doesn't know what he's missing," I said.
     "Yes he does.  The fucker."
     We both laughed.  She handed me a towel and we cleaned up. 
Then, all professional again, she took my check for the haircut and
scheduled my next appointment.  I bent to kiss her, but she put her
finger to her lips.
     "Hot day," she said.  "Hot and dreamy."  
     "Hope it stays that way."  She smiled and let me out.       
