"They probably just want a four way." Jennifer said and I tried not to look at her or react in any way. "So, when are your brothers friends planning to come from Germany for a visit?"
"I don't believe they will, he'll go there to visit them. They wouldn't like the US in any event... I think if they came here they'd be crying to go home after three or four days."
She stood behind me and pressed her braless tits against my shoulder while combing some of the hair upwards and trimming it back with scissors. "Why wouldn't they like it here?"
"Traffic for a big reason. They are fussy and nervous women, I knew them before my brother did and it was because of me that they met. But, they are very nervous in traffic and the sheer volume of traffic in this area would have them frantic within days, even as passengers."
She stepped around to the side and continued combing up and trimming hair as we talked. Leaning close so her voice wouldn't carry to the other seats she said very low, "You know, I've never been in a foursome before, nor a three-way for that matter." She smiled and stood then, pushing her crotch against my elbow, where it rested on the arm of the barber chair, through the barber sheet.
I was a little in shock today over the way she was carrying on. Thinking she must either be having another fight with her husband, or he wasn't paying the proper attention to her - again. She always seemed more blatantly flirty when frustrated, but had never made an outright pass like she seemed to few minutes ago, nor pushed the conversations into the areas she was steering this one.
"You know, I'll bet I could find a few volunteers for you if you're really interested," I said softly as she worked.
"I'll bet you just could, but I wouldn't be interested in just anyone," and she emphasized her comment with a slight movement of her hips, she was still in contact with my elbow.
She stepped to the front then and turned to check her work, bending slightly more than normal and giving me a nice view down her blouse - her freckled breasts swinging slightly as she moved her head and body this way and that in examination. I made an obvious point of enjoying the view and her smile widened as she straightened, turning her back to choose her next tools from the rack. Knowingly or not she was now presenting me with a view I always enjoyed during my haircuts. Narrow waisted, with a high butt, she always wore skin tight jeans that were designed to separate and then lift the cheeks of her ass, the half inch center seam riding well within the valley between the moons. The leggings molding to the shape of her thighs and most of her calves as she moved.
For the umpteenth time since I'd started coming to her for my haircuts I wondered if she had to oil herself in the mornings to get into those britches. They pegged out just above delicate looking bare ankles which in turn disappeared into sneaker socks and designer tennis shoes with a two inch heel lift. The eight gold bangle bracelets on her wrist tinked together as she placed the small scissors into the drawer and switched combs with another from the jar of blue goop that always inhabited a barbers tool shelf. She dropped the comb and bent at the waist to retrieve it, moving somewhat slowly and giving me the impression it was intentional. As I watched a very definite set of 'camel toes' form around the center seam of her Calvin Kleins, she looked back at me around the edge of her leg and smiled, confirming my suspicion.
I can't say I was much impressed by her current hair style, which changed as often as she changed the color of her hair. She was still brown haired this time, though a slightly lighter brown than a few weeks ago, but it was the cut and style that bothered me a bit as it was now jaw length with an outward flip. She looked like that Dutch Boy I used to see on all of those paint commercials, or the drawings of the boy sticking his finger in the dike in those books from childhood. All she was missing was the right clothing and wooden shoes.
Rising, she retrieved another pair of scissors from the drawer and new comb before stepping once more behind me. Using her finger tips she guided my head forward and into the position she wanted for trimming the hair on the back of my head. Before she released me she scratched lightly at my scalp with her nails, commenting again about my birth mark and how much she enjoyed the blonde streak of hair within the darker brown. She had gotten into the habit of trimming the hair carefully around it and leaving it longer so it was more pronounced. and I allowed it, never commenting about her habit as long as she kept it trimmed above my collar. I never saw it anyway, since it was on the back of my head, never giving it a thought unless someone commented on it.
"Well, I still think they are coming here so they can have a foursome."
"If so Jennifer, I doubt they will want to include me. I was engaged to one of them for a couple of years and neither care much for me since."
"You and your brother have the most amazing stories of things in your life. They are so much more interesting than anyone else's. Have you ever been in a foursome?"
"Just after I left High School, back before you were born, I shared an apartment with eight other people for a while. It was a flop house really, sometimes having up to fifteen people sleeping in the same room, but get a good party going and some of the nights could get very interesting. At seventeen, on most nights, I usually slept sandwiched between two women, one twenty-two and the other thirty."
"You've both done so much more than other people who come in here."
"Not really. You're what? Twenty-four? Twenty-five? I'm right at twice your age, which gives me a lot more time to have experienced things, but I've not really experienced or done things much different than so many others have. You just haven't asked them the same questions you've asked me, have you?"
"No, probably not. You just seem so much more relaxed about things than most, I don't have any worries about saying something that may offend you. I don't think I could." She pressed her left breast tightly into my arm as she leaned to look at my eyebrows. "Shall I trim your eyebrows for you? They're getting a little wild again."
"If they need it, yes. It will keep them from hanging into my vision and bothering me." She returned the scissors to the drawer and took up a small pair of electric clippers. Turning to me she stepped up to my legs, resting her thighs against my knees and pressing tightly. Using a fine comb she raised the longer hairs and ran the clippers over the comb, trimming them back. That was one of the drawbacks of getting older, about half the hairs in my eyebrows grew wild and needed constant trimming.
She must really be in frustration mode right now if she was initiating so much direct body contact. Normally we flirted back and forth as we talked about whatever topic she brought up, but she was usually careful about things and had never done more than lightly brush against me here and there, while working. Today, she was really pushing the limits and warping the hell out of that imaginary line we never crossed in our dealings with one another. She began moving around me, giving my hair the light feathering I like so it wasn't over bulked and wouldn't stick out oddly in places, running her fingers into my hair at the sides, examining the length as she used the opportunity to stroke my ears and the edge of my jawline with her finger tips.
Much more of this and I might embarrass myself when I stood up. "Careful," I said softly.
Equally as softly she replied, "You know what they say, if there is something you want, or want to accomplish, you need to go after it. I believe that. So many people are satisfied to wait for things to come to them and it often doesn't, so if I want it, I go after it. I find it much more productive and satisfying for me if I do. "
Stepping around in front of me she stepped back and looked closely at me. "Turn your head to the right." She looked closely at the hair on the left side of my head. "Now to the left." An equally close look at the right side of my head. "Now look directly at me." I looked directly into her eyes as she tipped her head and upper body this way and that, studying her work before her eyes finally met mine. Her lips were slightly parted and she allowed the tip of tongue to appear, just a tiny bit, and trace the inside of her upper lips, the look in her eyes seemed to be saying, 'You have only to ask.'
I let it slide. I was very flattered that I might still be attractive to someone half my age, and I was very tempted to find out how serious she was, but she was not the only hairdresser in the place today. The shop was shared by four women, two of the others were present and tending to their female customers, Jennifer was the only one who cut men's hair. I had learned many years before that I had a very distinctive voice, low and rumbling in character it carried very well, even at lower tones and 'always' if I didn't want it to. I did not wish to cause problems for either of us, so I remained quiet.
Turning her back and retrieving a large hand mirror she stepped behind me to show a reflection of my new haircut. I was satisfied with it and told her so.
She had raised her prices a few months back from fifteen to eighteen dollars, I had noticed the change in her sign on the wall at the time, yet still she never asked for more than fifteen dollars from either my brother or I after a cut. I pulled a twenty and two ones from my wallet, holding them out for her as we walked towards the front counter and their cash drawer. Rather than simply taking the money, as she normally did, she supported my hand with her left as she placed her right into my palm and squeezed before accepting the money. She thanked me and placed the money in the cash drawer before following me outside, chatting quietly about nothing as we walked.
At the corner of the building, where a narrow drive led to parking in the rear of the building, was a sign on a hinge. It said 'Walk in Haircuts Welcome' and was her way of letting male customers know she was present and working. The others worked only by appointment and only on women, with rather substantial penalties for no-shows, but while the others were hairdressers, Jennifer was a barber, and her customers are all male. Though a few regulars showed at the same time each week for their haircuts, most, such as myself, simply walked in when they felt a cut was needed and had the extra time to get one. Men seldom do such things as getting haircuts by appointment and the sign was her way of inviting her customers for a cut. She turned the sign in now, flat to the wall, her message to customers that she was not there or not available.
"Time for a break," she said, turning back towards the door and I continued towards the corner and the parking lot. "Things have been a little slow today anyway."
"Well, thanks for the cut, excellent as always. You have a relaxing break and a good day, okay?"
"I think I just might," she said with a grin, an impish smile on her face and a glint in her eyes as she finished turning away.
I walked slowly towards the parking lot and my mini-van, replaying the haircut and her forwardness in my mind. Shaking my head and chuckling about the whole thing even as I wondered if I was making a mistake by not having made either move or comment. Especially once she had followed me outside. But, I hardly considered Main Street, in a small town like Willoughby Lake - where everyone's noses are buried up the asshole of everyone else's business - to be the proper place for such advances. Too many people knew her and some me, though lots less knew me than her. I hated the thought of providing fuel for the local gossips.
I was just unlocking my van's door when the rear door of the shop opened and Jennifer came out. "Wait a minute. I'd like to talk with you before you go." I turned the key and all of the locks on my small cargo van went 'thunk' as they opened, before replacing the keys in my pocket and waiting as she crossed the yard. I noticed as she came that her blouse, which had only two buttons undone earlier, during my cut, now had three undone and her breasts swayed as she walked, the inner side of first one, then the other coming momentarily into view as she approached. I was always amazed by women as they moved, she could just as easily, as most women could, have walked across that lot without causing more than the slightest jiggle in those peek-a-boo playing mounds of enticement. Instead, she chose to cause the swing and sway as she approached me, and I wondered what she had in mind. I didn't have to wait long to find out.
The back lot was completely surrounded by a high wooden fence, for privacy when it was someone's home, before it became a business. When she came within reach, she raised her arms and wrapped them under mine and around my back, pulling me close as she raised her lips to mine and kissed me. There was passion and need there as her lips parted mine and her tongue chased mine inside my mouth. The kiss didn't last long, but she was rubbing herself against my leg as she held me and my hands had moved to rest lightly on her hips.
"You are coming with me, mister." and she took my hand leading me to the wooden stairs for the second floor of the barber shop, a currently unused yet furnished apartment. Unlocking the door she told me, "It's pretty well sound-proofed so tenants won't disturb the business below, but we should try to keep the noise down a little to be safe."
"Exactly what do you have in mind, young lady?"
"I am 'exactly' going to fuck you silly, sir, and you are going to help me live out a fantasy I've had for years, but have been afraid to tell anyone before."
"That depends on the fantasy. I'm not into bondage or pain, for either of us."
"Nope, none of that, I don't think I would enjoy it either, but I do want, at least once, to be treated and used like a real slut. To be used and taken like a whore. Anything and everything goes, short of bondage, tearing clothes, intentionally inflicting real pain, or leaving marks." She said as she closed the door behind us and led the way into a bedroom. "The sheets and bedding are clean, by the way, I clean everything regularly in case someone comes to look at the place."
Grabbing the blankets and top sheet she flipped them completely off the bed and onto the floor before she began removing her clothes, her back was still towards me and I simply waited.
She kept her back to me as she removed her clothes, neither looking at me, nor turning towards me until she was completely naked, except for one silly white sneaker sock which had stayed in place when she kicked off her shoes and slid off her jeans. The other was stuck somewhere inside her pant leg when she tossed the jeans aside, as were her panties. Her buttocks were as high and firm as they'd appeared to be through the jeans, with a pronounced dimple above each, so her jeans hadn't supported or shaped her buttocks, as they do for some women, but had merely defined them. The blouse went last, slipping from her shoulders and revealing her pale back as she allowed it to fall to the floor behind her. Because of her work, she had little time to spend in the sun getting a tan, so there was only the barest trace of tan lines from what must have been a very skimpy bikini indeed, and from behind, her body was everything I had ever thought it would be.
She turned slowly then, looking down at the floor as she did so, as if suddenly shy and worried about what my reaction might be. Her breasts were slightly smaller and less naturally supported than I thought they'd be, but quite lovely nonetheless, wide areole, darker than expected, surrounded already excited nipples almost as thick as they were long. Having always been curious about her natural hair color I was happy to see the dark brown curls with hints of red that formed a sharp clean vee above her crotch.
She looked up then and seemed surprised to find me still dressed as I looked at her body, a questioning look in her eyes as she looked up into mine for some clue or reason. Reaching with both hands, I gripped her breasts more tightly than I needed to and pulled her towards me, saying, "You want to play the slut, you will be the slut, but if you really want this, you are going to undress me as we proceed. First though... "
I pinched both nipples between the side of my curled index finger and thumb, twisting slightly before transferring my left hand to the hair at the back of her neck and grasping it firmly. Pulling her closer still I tipped her head back to kiss her, at the same time running my right fingertips down the side of her stomach to her hips before moving sideways and into her curly short hairs. Her feet and thighs were still together and I slide one foot forward touching the insides of her ankles as we kissed. Following directions she spread her feet apart, moving first one, then the other as her arms went around my neck, pulling my face closer to hers as we kissed. Our teeth met and our mouths widened still more, allowing more play space for our tongues.
Her breath against my left cheek and mine against hers were in long slow inhalations and exhalations as I looked, finding her eyes closed, her brows arching high and a flush rising in her temples as we continued. Her hands dropped to my waist and began working on my belt as I slid my right hand between her thighs. She was already hot and wet to the touch when my fingers arrived and bringing three fingers together I rubbed them over and between her vulvae. Once, twice, three times and then, with fingers just barely dampened, I curled them and slid all three into her vagina, pushing firmly for maximum depth with the first entry. Still watching, I saw her brow furrow and felt as well as heard the soft "Unh!" of surprise and minor pain in her throat as they forced their way in. The knuckle of my thumb had come to rest against the upper end of her cleft, and though I had missed the clitoris on initial contact, I moved it in a sharp circle for stimulation before beginning to finger fuck her.
It was only a matter of a stroke or two before my fingers were fully moistened and easily moved within her wet nest, causing her no further pain and beginning to increase her sensations. My thumb was working better for her as well, as I'd found her love nubbin on the third or fourth such invasion and was now directly stimulating it with almost every stroke. I think she had her first orgasm then, riding my hand while we kissed as in the middle of that ride she suddenly lunged against me. In the middle of her lunge I released her hair and began sliding my free hand down her back.
Jennifer's hands had finished releasing my belt and she somehow pulled it from the belt loops in a single smooth move, something I could seldom do myself, before dropping it beside us. She began working on the button at my waistband then, and my zipper as I continued my ministrations.
I worked my fingers slowly down her back, beginning by dragging just the tips of my nails ever so lightly down either side of her spine for about three inches before spreading the fingers and sliding the pads up along her back to their starting point. Then it was the nail tips again as they slid down four inches along her spine before the pads spread and slid back up three inches. Down four, and up three, repeated continuously, gently, inevitably as they travelled further and further down her back. Finally I felt the dimples when I spread open my hand, one under my thumb, the other under a finger tip, and with the next pass down her spine, I didn't stop