The Haircut - an Erotic Story With a Cutting Edge

Not only did she look good enough to eat, but she also smelled terrific—peppermint on her breath and flowery deodorant. Her delicate boobs dangled invitingly in the flashy, low-cut halter top, nipples grazing the cotton. A solemn look on her face betrayed her concentration as she stood hunched over me to trim my bangs with her sharp barber’s scissors. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, so my view was unobstructed, straight down the neck of her top, between her delectable B-cup breasts. Her arm and wrist movements lightly shook her torso, which made those mouthwatering scoops of flesh wiggle left and right. She seemed oblivious.

Her brow furrowed as she made sure both sides of my hairdo were more or less symmetrical. She sucked her lip between her teeth, biting down as she wrapped up with a few last snips. When she was this close to me, I was sure she could hear the butterflies in my stomach flap their wings.

Our paths had crossed a few times before. I was a regular at the trendy hipster hair salon where she worked. It catered to those averse to mainstream fashion, cozily decorated with sixties and seventies paraphernalia and handmade indie products. There was a coffee corner, an old wooden table piled with thumbed assorted magazines, and a mix of alternative rock and avant-garde metal whispering from vintage speakers, all of it breathing an inviting atmosphere.

As usual, she avoided looking in my eyes for longer than a second. She’d cut my hair a few times before, and she always blushed and averted her gaze when I looked at her too long. No doubt she liked girls; my radar never failed me.

So now too, even though she tried to focus on my hairline, her giddy green eyes constantly darted below it, meeting mine. Her cheeks reddened despite her best efforts to be nonchalant about it all. It probably didn’t help that I kept staring, or that my own cleavage was deep enough for her to fall into.

Not that it matters to this story, but I am a succubus.

Oh, don’t bother looking that up, you’ll only find myths and fables in books. I have no fangs or horns, no leathery wings, and I don’t visit people in their sleep to have sex with them. I make sure they’re wide awake.

All kidding aside, I do need sex to survive. And I don’t mean that in a metaphorical sense. The people I am with—preferably girls or couples—get the best sex of their lives, as my succubus energy increases their delight and receptiveness to erotic stimuli. More delight means more sustenance for me. That’s what I feed on.

Slim and somewhat lanky, about four inches taller than my five-feet-six, Elbe was one tasty morsel. She’d been working at my favorite barbershop for about six months, and I liked to make sure she was on duty whenever I needed to get my hair done, about once every two to three weeks. Today, I felt we’d done enough staring and blushing. Time for me to raise the heat.

It had been an exceptionally hot July, and most people treated layers of clothing as a bare-minimum necessity in these conditions. Besides her revealing top, Elbe wore a skimpy pair of jeans shorts with canvas loafers, her girly legs and cute narrow ass prancing up and down the shop as she went from one customer to another. The laboring air conditioner barely managed to chip a few degrees off the boiling hot temperatures, so all skin was wet and warm all the time. Covered or bare, it didn’t seem to make any difference. Pleasing the eye was a welcome side effect.

She made the usual small talk, now seated on her stool behind me to thin out my shoulder-length bundle of hair.

“I swear, if these temperatures persist for much longer I’m moving to Antarctica.”

She looked in the mirror repeatedly to check for symmetry, but I caught her answering my gaze a few times. My own reflection contrasted sharply with her pretty, slightly angular face. I was somewhat curvy, with a round head, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair. My skin was deeply tanned, not from the sun but from my Latina heritage. I wasn’t wearing a bra either and my fleshy D-cup strained against the damp fabric of my sleeveless T-shirt.

“Who’s going to keep all those horny Eskimos off your ass?” I said, relishing in the feel of her fingers in my hair as she tossed it into shape.

“There are no Eskimos in Antarctica, Lucy,” she said to me, grinning as she turned away for a few minutes to take care of an elderly lady who needed her blue rinse brushed. My eyes tracked her wherever she went.

“I knew that,” I said, “but I figured you could handle the horny penguins yourself.”

“And who’s going to save the Eskimos when I get my freak on?” She looked at me in the mirror while she combed through Granny’s perm. Her eyes and smile hinted at all kinds of igloo mayhem.

Even the pensioned lady had to laugh at this.

Watching Elbe, I felt a familiar gnawing in my belly. Not hunger for food, but a different kind of want. It had been a while since I had fed. Elbe looked delicious and highly nutritious. Despite her shy and timid nature, she was funny and sociable, once she felt at ease around someone. Her straight strawberry blond hair was tied up with a blue scarf, revealing a cute freckled face, slender neck, and narrow shoulders. I wouldn’t call her spindly, but she had a natural disposition for thinness, something I could only be envious about. Her posture was elegant, lower back at the perfect angle and her tush sticking out. Despite her modest curves, she had a refreshing feminine air.

She turned back my way. I must have been a bit too obvious about looking at her because she gave me that maddening shy grin again. I answered with a warm smile of my own, resisting the impulse to run my eyes up and down her slender frame.

“What?” She smiled nervously and blushed, putting in a commendable effort to stand firm under my scrutiny.

“Nothing,” I said, enjoying the mild unease I caused her. She was so cute when she didn’t know how to comport herself.

“So is this okay for you?” she said, changing the subject. She jostled my hair up a few last times.

“Perfect!” I was a bit disappointed that she’d broken the spell. Maybe she wasn’t ready yet.

“You have such a pretty hair color,” she added, after a loaded pause. If she had at all picked up on my mild downcast mood, she didn’t show it. “It brings out the brown of your eyes.”

For the first time in six months, she held my gaze for more than a few seconds. She was visibly uncomfortable with it, but despite her flushed cheeks, she looked determined to let me know she appreciated me. Her mouth curled up in the most endearing smile. It had taken her a while, but now she finally seemed to have gathered enough courage to openly flirt with me. Perhaps she was ready, after all.

I was about to test the significance of this moment when a high-pitched ring from a little bell attached to the doorframe chirped through the salon. A man entered the premises, and the flirtiness melted from Elbe’s composure the second she realized who the newcomer was.

A formidable man in a smart gray business suit walked straight to us. He was maybe a few years younger than my thirty-one summers.

“Here you are,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice, ignoring everyone else in the shop. He unceremoniously took Elbe by the arm and pulled her away from me. She cringed and sheepishly let him drag her along to a quiet corner of the salon, where they started an animated discussion. It was mostly him who did the talking, waving his arms expressively at her. She tried in vain to have a say but didn’t succeed in interrupting him.

He was almost a foot taller than her with a long hipster beard, gauges in his ears and tattoos visible above the collar of his suit and where his wrists showed under his cuffs. He was impeccably dressed, despite the heat, although the sweat on his forehead could have come from his excitement as well. He gestured theatrically, the subdued tone of his voice heavy with animosity and disapproval as he obviously threw some kind of lecture at her. Elbe listened reluctantly, anxious to rebuke.

“It’s her older brother,” the old lady with the blueish hue on her hair whispered in a confiding tone.

“Ever since she refused to go to those church meetings of his,” she explained, “he’s been bugging her to ‘change her wicked ways’ and ‘embrace her salvation,’ or some nonsense like that.”

She looked around as if checking no one was listening in and went on.

“I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about, but someone ought to tell him he should mind his own business.”

She nodded to confirm her own insight, her eyes bulging suggestively at me.

I swiveled in my chair to look at Elbe, who had finally broken through his torrent of words. She jabbed her finger at her brother’s broad chest a couple of times, throwing her rebuttal in his face with her teeth clenched and her face twisted in a defiant sneer.

“She looks like she’s doing okay,” I said, more to myself than to Granny, ready to intervene when Elbe ran out of steam. Not sure what I could do if this sharp-dressed ogre decided to assert his strength, but I wasn’t just going to let him take a swing at her if it came to that.

But after another minute, she showed him the door. He didn’t seem inclined to resist, although he did have another exchange with her at the entrance, gentler now. The pleading tone of his voice reached me through the stifling hot air in the humid salon.

As I looked at them, I could feel her energy reach me across the room. I was already in love with her. She confidently set things straight with her brother, not frail and intimidated any longer. After a perfunctory hug—which visibly made her recoil—he turned and left. She peered out the window, shaking, but her calm returned as she watched him cross the street and walk out of sight.

“What was that all about?” I asked when she came back. She slumped in the seat between Blue Rinse and me, her delicate features blurred with worry, the blush on her cheeks a deeper red.

“Oh, never mind him,” she said, waving her hands as if dissipating the pungent smell of a fart. “He needs to stop treating me like his baby sister already. I’m almost twenty-four, for crying out loud!”

“What did he want?” It was probably none of my business, but since we had been about to take our customer relationship to the next level, I felt it appropriate to show her my genuine concern. Suddenly, the thought of anything compromising her happiness stirred protective emotions in me.

“It ... it’s complicated.”

She wanted to get up, but I put my hand on her wrist until she looked at me. Where her eyes had conveyed initiative and infatuation a few minutes earlier, they now looked tired and worn.

“What time do you get off work?” I asked.

It would have been my next move anyway before her brother spoiled the mood. “I’m a good listener, especially when someone buys me coffee.”

It was an honest friendship offer. She hesitated a few seconds, but my smile encouraged her. She grabbed a pen from her pants pocket, took my hand and started writing something on it. The pen hesitated a bit, too, so she brought it to her mouth and breathed on the tip. When the ink finally flowed, it arranged itself in the outlines of a phone number.

“Give me a call at around five, okay?” She raised her eyes at me and smiled timidly, finishing the doodle with a little heart.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” she added with a nervous giggle, “but I’d love to buy you that coffee.”

“Okay, then,” I said, barely able to contain a giggle myself. I checked my hair one last time in the mirror and grabbed my shoulder bag. I got out my wallet to pay for the haircut. She walked me over to the register and graciously accepted the generous tip I added. It was enough for two coffees.

“You can expect my call.”

Under different circumstances, I’d rather have skipped the coffee and gone straight for the toffee. Tact isn’t always my strong suit, but I had enough empathy to realize she had been quite upset by the confrontation with her brother. I finished my errands and grabbed a late lunch before heading home to freshen up.

Over tea and French toast, I called my friend Sabine in Helsinki. She and her boyfriend, Marc, were one of my go-to couples when I needed a few days of uncomplicated friendship and passion. I didn’t visit Finland often, and it had been ages since I had seen them, but my dad’s firm would soon send me up north again for business, so a city trip to Helsinki was definitely on my itinerary.

“Of course, Lucy. Marc and I always look forward to your visits. I’ll stock up on lobster.”

I giggled at her unspoken wink. Lobster is a potent aphrodisiac, as we had the pleasure of finding out, the night we seduced and bedded her boyfriend together.

“Anyone special in your life now I should know about?” she asked. Sabine knew how restless I got when I was in between romantic involvements. But she also knew my restlessness was wearing me out.

“Not yet, but I’m working on it.”

The cold shower was a lifesaver after a day of clothes sticking to my damp skin. The water refreshed my body and helped me unwind. I thought about the embarrassing scene I had witnessed at the salon, and my mind automatically snipped away the uncomfortable bits until Elbe stood out clearly. She radiated with the kind of energy I was drawn to as a succubus, but something was holding her back. Undoubtedly the poisoned relationship with her brother had something to do with that.

Physically, she wasn’t the type of girl I usually fell for, but she had a quality about her I found extremely attractive. Her shyness mostly, and the fact she was so unaware of her appeal. The way she’d practically rubbed her breasts in my face; I’m sure it wasn’t intentional or calculated in any way. It was just the way she was wired, innocent and profoundly sincere.

Almost out of habit, my hand glided down between my legs in response to my wandering mind. The cold water took a little longer to trigger me than warm water would, but it did get my nipples hard in no time. I pinched them in turn and kneaded the flesh of my boobs, while my other hand lazily stimulated my pussy. It didn’t take long for my juices to add to the lubrication of the water and for images of Elbe’s warm smile and supple body to flutter around in my head.

Nothing too detailed yet, just flashes of how I’d kiss her full lips and cup her firm ass cheeks as she straddled me and dangled her juicy boobs in my face. She’d dip a nipple in my mouth—it would come back trailing a thread of my saliva—and then we’d kiss again.

Before long, I was panting and trembling on legs that could barely keep me standing as an invigorating orgasm gave me the quick physical relief I had known it would. I leaned against the wall and pressed my fingers into my G-spot, intensifying the already marvelous feeling. The energy of my climax heated me more than the cold water could compensate for. Sweat trickled down my face and between my breasts, mixing with the water.

My body was sated, but not my hunger. I needed more than fantasizing about making love to her.

That was the curse of being a succubus. I had traveled all around Europe, searching without knowing or understanding what it was I was looking for. Finding enough sex wasn’t so much a problem as it was to replenish my energy from what my partners had to offer. Quality was definitely more important than quantity in this regard. I could spend a week with a low-energy couple and still feel ravenous, while one night with the right person could sate me for weeks. So I guess I had been looking for the right person, who could break my exhausting compulsion to wander around.

Elbe gave me a promising feeling.

I got out of the shower and opened the window wide to expel the damp air. I toweled off, which was a bit pointless in this stifling heat; I sweated harder afterward than before I went in the shower. Nothing to do about that. It was the downside of this exceptional weather, and everyone had to bear it.

I put on a light sundress, tight around the chest and loose around the hips, accentuating the former and masking—to my contentment—the latter. My figure had never been a major point of worry for me. The Latina genes of my beautiful half-Brazilian mother had equipped me with a short and voluptuous body, and a light caramel skin to match. My curvy hips had never caused me more than mild insecurity, though. Next to the slender Elbe, however, I wanted my assets balanced just perfectly.

I carried my phone out to the shadow-side terrace of my flat to dial her number. I looked at where she had written it on my hand but it was gone. Of course, what the sweat hadn’t already smeared out, the shower would certainly have washed away

Splendid, Lucy. Real smart of you.

I cursed out loud, but the flapping and squeaking sounds of the startled pigeons on a nearby ledge weren’t going to solve my problem. It was ten to five, and she’d be expecting my call at five. I’m punctual like that. The hair salon closed at four thirty, so I doubted anyone would still be around. I looked up their contact card anyway, in the hope that anyone still there could give me Elbe’s number.

The line connected after twelve rings, followed by a few seconds of silence.

“Hello, who’s this?”

It was Elbe’s voice, thick and hoarse like she’d been crying.

“This is Lucy. I’m sorry to call you on this number, but I accidentally washed yours from my hand ... Are you okay?”

She said nothing for a long moment, but I could hear her tear-burdened breathing through the speaker.

“Elbe? Are you okay? What’s going—”

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to buy you that coffee. I’m sorry.”

Before I could press her to tell me more, she’d hung up.

I looked out over the railing at the cooking city and wondered briefly if the trouble I was going to get myself in would be worth it. But then I thought of Elbe’s sparkling green eyes and her shy smile. Two minutes later I tore out of my garage with screeching tires.

My apartment building was on the other side of the city, but traffic was low due to the high temperatures. Most people had retreated to cooler places until the heat had abated enough to make wandering outside bearable again. It was now a little past five, but the sun was still high in the sky and the air shimmered above the asphalt.

The stereo of my SUV blasted the progressive death metal I had been listening to that morning, but not even Persefone playing “Spiritual Migration” could distract me from Elbe’s predicament.

Most likely the collision with her brother had affected her more than she’d wanted to admit that afternoon. The old lady had hinted at some religious zealousness on his part, with church meetings she had stopped attending. I guessed he disapproved of her attraction to girls, and used guilt and fear of hell to shame her into conforming.

Mingling in family disputes was a bad idea in the best of circumstances, and when religiosity was involved, the smartest thing would probably be for me to just mind my own business. But like tact, smart wasn’t always high on my priority list. Instinctively, I pressed the pedal a little deeper and gunned the engine of my Range Rover Sportage into high RPM. The last five miles zipped by in less than five minutes.

When I arrived at the salon, the door stood ajar, although the blinds of the windows were already down. Cautiously, I walked in. The air inside was still hot, but the dampness had alleviated a bit. The odor of shampoo and ammonia lingered heavily and was now mixed with the slightly nauseating smells that drifted in from the fast-food restaurant next door.

From the entrance, I could see the entire deserted service area. Enough light came in through the door to see, but the shutters painted everything in gloomy shadows. In the far corner, there was a door to a small supply room annex administration corner.

“Hello? Anyone in here?”

At first, I heard nothing but the murmurings of a city slowly coming back to life as the most severe heat had dissipated. I closed the door and walked inside a few feet, listening intently.

“Elbe? Are you there?”

I focused my hearing on the door of the supply room and heard a subdued sniveling. I hurried over there, calling Elbe’s name. At once, my worry for her happiness morphed into fear. The thought anything bad might have happened to her clamped around my heart like an icy fist. Despite the heat, cold sweat ran down my back.

I barged in and pushed past the shelves filled with shampoo bottles, coloring products, and other various hairstyling supplies. It was quite a bit darker in the windowless room than in the salon, but I’d been in here once before to go to the bathroom and I knew the layout. Past the shelves and the toilet door, I turned a corner and entered the little break area, where the employees of the salon took their lunch and handled the business’s scarce administration. The soft neon light from a ceiling fixture showed a single table, which doubled as eating space and office desk. Against the far wall, there was a kitchenette with a tiny fridge and a few plastic trays for incoming and outgoing paperwork. There was a phone on the table, one empty chair, and the chair where Elbe sat, huddled like a frightened little animal. I almost hadn’t seen her. She cried into her hands, her shoulders shaking with every deep sob.

“Oh honey, are you okay?”

I hurried over and wrapped my arms around her narrow shoulders. Her sobbing and crying intensified as she returned the embrace. She’d warmed my heart before, but now it all but melted in my chest. She clung to me, seemingly for dear life, and started wailing passionately and without holding back the despair.

I let her vent for a while without asking questions or serving hollow platitudes about how everything would be all right. I didn’t know the depths of her grief; she’d tell me about it when she was ready.

Eventually, she would calm down enough to control her breathing and tell me what the problem was. That’s what I expected. I almost didn’t notice when her hands gingerly moved to stroke my shoulders and back. We were still caught in each other’s embrace, but she wandered to my flanks and brushed the side of my breasts. Not sure if this was real or not, I waited to find out what she would do next.

She pressed her face into mine. First just her wet cheek, but then she searched my lips with hers and offered me a tentative kiss, saline in taste from the tears that still flowed abundantly.

My body responded before my mind realized what happened. Adrenaline-flooded blood pulsed in my temples. I could feel my hardening nipples dig into her chest, and was briefly torn between my sense of decency and my physical yearning for this girl. Her kiss was warm and inviting, and before I could give it any more thought, I parted my lips and welcomed her wet tongue into my mouth. She wrapped her arms around my head and kissed me eagerly. Hot air wheezed into her nostrils as she locked us in a dizzying exchange of passion. She got up from the chair and pressed her lithe body into my softer curves, moaning and panting as her kiss turned more urgent. Her hands wandered off and roamed freely over my body, feverishly groped my boobs and then glided farther down to my ass, squeezing my buttocks almost painfully. She leaned into me until we stumbled backward into the counter of the kitchenette.

Thought was impossible, rationality pointless, resistance futile. I tasted the tears on her face and lips, and smelled the peppermint on her breath; they competed to fill my universe with the sensation of her hand crawling under the hem of my sundress. She hiked up the thin material until I felt her greedy fingers glide between my naked thighs and search the warm and damp environs of my pussy. Because of the heat, and since going pantyless made me feel sexy, I hadn’t bothered to wear anything underneath my dress. Not that I had planned—hoped, yes—for any action between Elbe and me on our first date; that coffee we’d never have now. She didn’t waste any time; her fingers clumsily but eagerly explored and triggered me before I could even think about reciprocating.

I knew from experience I could have an overwhelming effect on people. Their self-control usually evaporated whenever my own arousal reached a critical point. This was also part of the curse of the succubus: slow and gentle foreplay was hardly ever an option.

Elbe had totally caught me off guard. Sex had been on my mind, feeding on her youthful and unselfconscious enthusiasm my goal, but I had enough decency in me to realize now probably wasn’t the ideal time for us to consummate our budding mutual attraction. Her zeal was obviously fueled by her fragile emotional state, and part of me felt like I would be taking advantage of that.

But another, infinitely more horny and demanding part of me beat my common sense into a dark, desolate corner of my mind and opened up to her. We hadn’t stopped kissing, our hands kneading flesh, caressing skin, and yanking at cloth. She fingered and fondled my pussy, groped and squeezed my ample boobs through the fabric of my dress, and pulled the elastic down to free them. She buried her face between my sweaty mounds as they toppled out heavily. I let her indulge while my own hands roamed without restriction, exploring her warm and strong, supple body.

The energy of her arousal had started flowing from every point of contact we shared. Wherever her skin touched mine—through the union of our lips and tongues, the mixing of our sweat and saliva, fingers digging in overheated flesh—I could feel her dormant strength siphon off to whatever part of me it was that needed to feed. It was like an involuntary muscle, flexing and contracting in my mind as I envisioned her sexual persona pour its essence into mine. Beyond my conscious control, but still, I had become acutely aware of it. I swilled it all down hungrily and fed my appreciation back into her nerves, magnifying her delight. It worked wonders; she became even more aroused, letting go of all inhibitions as she ravenously fed on my physical goodies.

In retrospect, I guess I could have felt it earlier. Should have. But her sweet assault had been too disarming. The firmness of her perky breasts, the enticing curvature of the small of her back as it seamlessly evolved into the soft rounding of her strong ass cheeks ... I was too distracted by the texture of her skin and her amazing smell—peppermint is my new favorite odor—to feel anything but lust and passion. Even when she pressed into my vulva with her pubic bone and fused our bodies together, I didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary.

She paused her kissing to catch her breath; her feral green eyes poured animal lust into mine. I grabbed her by the hips and spun us around, pinning her against the counter. Our sweaty bodies fused again, our hands and mouths resumed their passionate exploration. With shaky fingers, I fumbled with the fly buttons of her jeans shorts. She cramped up and stopped kissing, closed her eyes and held her breath, as if she waited for a sudden bout of pain, like a shot with a syringe at the doctor’s. I assumed she was just overcome with expectancy; my own impatience was almost unbearable. When I finally got her pants open, I eagerly slid my hand down her belly, under the elastic of her cotton panties, and found her warm and hard cock.