I was running late, but I had an interview the next day and I wanted to look presentable, so I ducked into my regular salon. The woman that usually cut my hair was not available, but Susan was there, and she agreed to stay late and give me the trim that I needed.
I had noticed Susan the last few times that I was in because she had long, curly red hair and bedroom blue-green eyes, and I had a particular weakness for redheads. I never saw her in anything other than a skirt and blouse, and the skirt was never more than halfway down her thighs while the shirt always exposed some nice cleavage.
I took off my tie and leaned back in the seat to get my hair washed. For me, at least up until that night, the hair washing was my favorite part of the haircut. It was so sensual, the feel of a pretty woman's fingers working through my hair. One time I had to wait twenty minutes for my stylist to free up, and I paid one of the girls to wash my hair the entire time.
But back to that night, Susan pushed my chair back so that my head was in the sink. In this particular establishment, the sink was against the wall, so Susan had to stand next to me as she wet and washed my hair. We chatted a bit, as I explained why I needed this cut so badly tonight and the job I was interviewing for, however it was a bit hard to concentrate on my story with Susan's breasts swaying in front of me. Her shirt was not quite so low cut as to give me a good view down it, but it sure did not appear that she was wearing a bra.
And while I watched her lovely breasts, smelled her delightful aroma and listened to her lilting accent, I felt her hip pushing against my hand, which was resting on the armrest. Susan turned slightly, and suddenly it wasn't her hip that were pushing against my hand.
I froze, not quite sure what to do. Then Susan pulled back a little, and I saw her eyes briefly, at least till they turned away, her face blushing prettily. When she turned back to run the conditioner in my hair, she pressed against my hand again. This time, instead of fearing that I would inadvertently offend this lovely woman, I jutted the knuckles of my three middle fingers out.
Susan had been in the middle of telling me how she planned to take a vacation next month, but her voice caught momentarily, and when she continued her voice was somewhat deeper, huskier. When she was done rinsing my hair, I stood up and took her hand, bringing it to my lips.
"Thank you. That was a most sensual experience."
She blushed and sat me in the chair. She slowly cut my hair, brushing against me frequently. As she did, and we had our outwardly innocent conversation going on, I looked at her in the mirror. She would glance quickly at me, always turning away when she realized that I was looking at her. As my hair became neater, her furtive glances became more frequent.
When she was done, she brushed me off, and I was starting to feel sorry that I had to leave.
"Would you like a hot towel and a shave?" Susan asked me.
I didn't really have much growth on my chin, but on the other hand I really didn't want to leave.
"Please," I replied.
She led me towards the back to an old fashioned barber's chair. I sat down and she leaned it all the way back. She went and got the shaving supplies while she warmed the towel. With her eyes lowered, avoiding mine, she had a Moan Lisa smile as she wrapped the towel around my face.
I felt Susan move around, then I felt her hand on my belt, loosening it.
"What!" I exclaimed.
"Shhhh,, " she said soothingly.
.... There is more of this story ...