"Pete's, this is Barbara, can I help you?"

"Babs. It's me. I'm running late," I said, "but I really need a cut. Are you going to be there another 15 minutes?" I had called in the morning to let her know I was coming. The shop didn't make appointments, but I always called to make sure Barbara was working that day before coming in. Now I was late.

"Sure," she said, cheerily. "There's one still waiting, but we flipped the sign off. I got nowhere else to be. I can fit you in."

"You're a sweetheart," I offered. "Thanks ... cya in a few minutes."

Barbara -- Babs to her friends -- was Barbara Thornton, daughter of Pete. Pete was the owner and proprietor of 'Pete's Barber Shop'. Imagine that? A female barber, you say? Yup. Maybe where you come from that's not uncommon. Around here, sleepy old Cape Cod, it's a rarity to be sure. Most women who decide to cut hair for a living become hairdressers in the fancy salons. Not Babs. She grew up in the barber shop and I guess when it came time, she decided to follow in the old man's footsteps directly. She always was a bit of a tomboy.

We grew up together, but she was two years ahead of me in school. In many places, larger towns, that would have meant we never knew each other. In this small town, everyone knows everyone else, and Babs and I had been friends for years. She was way out of my league in high school, a statuesque blond with curves in all the right places and an ass to kill for. I was the nerdy math and science geek. Babs got married just out of high school to a local guy, but it turned out his best years had been in high school. After one kid and years of struggle, he just up and left her one day. Last I heard, he was in jail in Texas. A real winner. Babs was too good for him anyway.

I turned my love of science and math into degrees in computer science and biology and moved back to the Cape after college to start and run a successful local software company. A software company on Cape Cod isn't the most glamorous of jobs, but being the boss was pretty cool. Someone -- the Chamber of Commerce, I think -- once tried to get more interest in the area by dubbing us the 'Silicon Sandbar'. It didn't stick and the recent national economic woes haven't left many of the companies that were here solvent. We do some specialized work for the government and the local national marine research lab, so things are usually pretty stable for us.

I had a big meeting in Washington in two days trying to make sure our contracts got extended -- maybe even increased -- and had been neglecting my personal appearance while spending 20-plus hour days preparing. Now I was ready for the presentations, but a quick look in the mirror had revealed a desperate need for a cut and Babs was the only person I trusted with my hair. Sounds weird coming from a nerd, huh? But I had done a pretty good job keeping in decent shape in recent years and was proud to not be the quintessential computer geek stereotype.

My 'growth spurt' had been a little late, though, and the string-bean of a kid from high school had filled out pretty nicely in college and beyond. I was always a surprise when I bumped into a classmate that I hadn't seen in many years. One particularly shallow former cheerleader from high school had insisted on seeing my driver's license at a recent social event. She pretended to be joking when she saw it, 'Oh, I knew it was you.' She wouldn't have given me the time of day in high school, but suddenly the successful, single entrepreneur was 'hot stuff'. I wasn't sure if it was my physique or my checkbook she was more interested in. I don't usually hold a grudge, especially from high school, but shallow is shallow and I could see right through her.

Babs, on the other hand, had always been a friend. As I said, even though she was two years ahead of me in school, she was always friendly and never 'too good' for anyone. To her infinite credit, she treated everyone the same way -- great. It's probably how she ended up married to the loser she got stuck with. She was too nice to say 'No'. I had tutored her in math and science in her junior and senior years. I was taking the same classes as her anyway, being the little brainiac, at least in those subjects. Of course, having a giant crush on her at the time -- still? -- didn't have anything to do with wanting to spend time with her, did it? Right.

I lucked into a parking spot on the street right in front of the shop and bounded up the stairs. As expected, the barber pole was off, but the door was open. Babs looked to the door and smiled warmly when she saw me. She was working on a fellow that I recognized, but didn't really know all that well.

"Hiya, Babs," I called from the doorway as I hung my coat and scarf on the rack near the door and came in from the February cold. "Hi to you, too, Pete."

"Always second fiddle around here ... in my own shop," Pete grumbled, but couldn't help hiding a smile as he said it.

Business had been great for Pete ever since Barbara started working in the shop, and I'm sure more than half the clientele came in hoping she'd be the one cutting their hair. With no appointments and first-come-first-served service, you got who you got. I usually planned my appearances for the end of the day and by unwritten rule, Babs always cut my hair, even if I had to go out of turn. It got me a few dirty looks from other patrons once in a while, but Pete always seemed to smooth things over, and me being Babs 'high school friend' usually settled any complaints.

Barbara looked particularly amazing today and it was no surprise why any guy would be fighting to have her running her hands through their hair. At 5'9", she was pretty tall. Not center-on-a-basketball-team tall, of course, but above average to be sure. Her legs seemed to go on forever and she was wearing heels today ... or at least now. I wasn't sure how she could walk around in those all day cutting hair, but I started at the dark shoes and worked my way upward as I slowly made my way to the waiting area. I grabbed a 'seat with a view' (of Barbara) and pretended to read a magazine while I continued to check her out. Thankfully, she was working on the guy in the seat nearest the door and waiting area.

The shoes were only the beginning of the show and as I worked my way up her body, trying to hide my ogling as well as possible, I followed her shapely, stocking-covered leg up to the short (for winter) black thigh-length skirt. It had a sexy slit in the side and when she moved just so, more of her fabulous legs came tantalizingly into view. The skirt was topped with a wide, shiny belt which led up to a tight-fitting, red, zip-front, long-sleeve, hooded cardigan. The zipper was down low enough to reveal a bit of cleavage, but not enough to raise too many eyebrows in small-town Cape Cod. Her hair (duh!) and make-up were understated, but lovely, and as I reached her gorgeous face, I was stopped cold. She was staring right at me and I had clearly been caught checking her out.

'Busted, ' she mouthed, but she winked and went back to her work. Turning away she offered, "Dad and I are almost finished with both of these fine citizens. I'll take you in a minute."

'I'd like to take you somewhere, ' I thought as I watched her move. My high-school crush had morphed into full-blown lust over the years, but timing and events seemed to always keep me from doing anything about it. It always seemed that one of us was either married or deeply involved in a relationship and if I was anything, it was respectful of that. Babs had supposedly been dating a local guy for a couple of years since her divorce went final, but I heard that ended a few months ago. I was just getting over a break-up with a woman who I thought loved me, but was apparently just another gold-digger. Thankfully I found out soon enough before half my company was hers in a divorce. It still stung.

I found a better magazine and settled in for the wait. It didn't look to be long, but I stole glances Barbara's way as often as I could and only got caught staring one more time. My phone went off -- the office -- but I was able to quickly answer the question and tried to stress to my sales manager that we were as ready as we were going to be for the meetings and to go home, see his family, and get some rest. He reluctantly agreed, and I was hoping I'd make it through the night without another call.

"Serves me right for sneaking out of the office 30 minutes early to get a haircut," I grumbled under my breath. Or so I thought.

"What was that?" Babs asked.

"Oh ... sorry ... I thought I kept that snarky comment to myself."

"Tough day?" she asked while brushing off her customer and carefully removing the cape, keeping all of the hair off him.

"Tough month. Months," I muttered.

"Well, come have a seat and tell Babs your troubles," she smiled. "I'll take care of Bob here and we'll be good to go."

Next to bartenders, I think barbers are probably the next best listeners in the world. Maybe even better than shrinks. They hear all kinds of stories, theories, local news, and outright fabrications in the course of a day, and usually have to remain pretty stoic and neutral. I don't think barbers have politics or religion. If they do, my experience is that they usually keep it to themselves. Wouldn't do much for business to be a right-wing republican in a town full of liberal democrats ... or vice-versa. Maybe it was just Babs and Pete that were this quiet. I'd been coming here for 30 years or more. Even in college, I'd find time to get home to get a cut.

'Bob' settled up with Babs just as Pete was finishing up with his guy and the two customers grabbed their coats and hats and headed out together. The tip jar got a little more full from Babs' guy and she smiled enough to light up the room as she offered him a 'Thanks'.

"Now, where were we?" Barbara said playfully, returning to my chair and running her hands through my hair. As she surveyed the situation, her touch sent chills through me and I had to work very hard to stifle a groan of desire. I had to shift in my seat just a little bit, though. "Jeez ... you're a mess," she offered. "Been a while, huh?"

I had to stifle a laugh this time as I read way too much innuendo into that last statement. I had to agree, though. I hadn't had the touch of a woman in way too long. Claudia and I had broken up nearly four months previously and work had been all-consuming for the better part of three of those months. I must have gotten a funny look on my face even as I tried to hide it, though.

"What's so funny?" Babs asked.

"Sorry," I said. "Just a weird picture popped into my head. I must still be thinking about work." I hoped I was a decent liar.

Barbara gave me a funny look back as though she knew I wasn't being honest, but she let it go.

"I'm heading out, Babs," Pete said as he finished up at the cash register. He had been tidying up the floor and shop quickly while Babs had been surveying my mess of a head. Now he was done and apparently leaving for the day. I didn't recall ever being in the shop this late and not seeing both of them still working. The blinds were down and some of the lights were already out. It was kind of weird. "You'll be OK with this one?" Pete asked, pointing to me as he headed for the coat rack at the front door.

"I think he's mostly harmless," Babs offered her father with a smile. "Thanks for taking Jeremy tonight!"

"My pleasure," he said. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. The back's all locked up," he added as he turned off the lights in the waiting area and closed the door. He shut it behind him and I heard it lock.

"Free babysitting?" I asked. "Hot date? You look great in those clothes, by the way. I'm not keeping you from something, am I?" I tried to sound sincere.

"Yes. No, Thanks, and no, again," she said. "I already told you I had no plans."

"Why waste a night of grampa kid-sitting, then?" I asked. "You really do look ready for a night out."

"Thanks -- again -- for the compliment. Pete loves watching Jeremy. He'd do it every night if I asked. I'm just going to watch some TV or read a book or have a long soak in the tub," she said with a wink, "Unless something better comes up."

The thought of Barbara soaking in the tub certainly had something 'coming up' alright, but I was pretty sure that wasn't on her agenda for the night.

"Sounds like heaven," I said, honestly.

Babs just smiled that smile. "Want a wash?"

Again ... my mind was apparently fully in the gutter and I heard 'want to watch?'. My eyes got big and something else got a little bigger as I pictured her in the tub again.

"Earth calling," she said. "Do you want me to wash your head first?"

"Oh ... I ... umm ... sure," I stammered, trying to figure out how I was going to move from this chair to the wash station with the ever-expanding bulge in my pants. A wash wasn't usually part of the routine at a barber shop, but they were setup for it. Barbara had some female clients that weren't intimidated by coming to a barber shop. She was really good and worth stepping out of your usual comfort zone (for women). It made for some interesting conversations on the occasion that I was in the shop for one of these women. Most could hold their own talking about local events or sports or whatever typically flew around a barber shop.

"Well, don't get too excited," she said with a hint of disappointment in her voice at my seeming reluctance. My stuttering must have been seen as a rejection.

"It's not that I don't want you to," I said, trying to recover. "It's not something I ... you usually do," I offered, unsure of how to actually pull out of the nosedive I was in. Not coming up with a better plan, I just stood up and walked over to the wash area. I thought that my bulge must have had neon lights pointing at it, but Babs didn't show any signs of noticing and I managed to make it to the wash-station chair with minimal embarrassment.

She fussed with the water for a bit, getting the temperature just right, and as I was lying there looking up at her, I thought that I noticed a change in her clothes. Nothing major, of course, but did the zipper on her sweater drop by about two inches in the last five minutes? My imagination and libido were in overdrive at this point, and it seemed like I caught the slightest glimpse of a black lace bra as she continued to fuss with the water. It seemed to be taking way too long, but who was I to complain as I looked up at this beautiful woman.

"There!" she said, a hint of (fake?) exasperation in her voice as she brought the sprayer to my messy locks. She tenderly worked the warm water into my hair and scalp. This certainly was doing nothing to alleviate the problem in my pants. My cock was getting harder by the second and a small groan finally escaped my lips. "Glad you're enjoying it, but I haven't even started the good part yet," Babs offered.

"The go ... good part?" I stammered again.

"The shampoo, silly. What's gotten into you today?"

"Sorry. Just distracted," I offered truthfully trying desperately to maintain my composure. Unfortunately, my mind offered, 'I'd like to get something into you, ' as my cock lurched again in my pants. This time I was pretty sure Babs noticed. Did her face just flush a bit?

She regained what little poise she might have lost and squirted a blob of shampoo into her hand. When her soapy hands hit my head and began to massage the warm shampoo into my head, I couldn't stifle a second quiet moan and another lurch.

"Is it too warm in here?" Babs asked to my confusion.

"N ... No ... I ... I'm OK, I guess," I continued to stutter.

"Phew," she sighed. "I'm a little warm," she said and her hand came up to the zipper on her sweater and dropped it another inch. A bit of soap was left behind on the swell of her right breast and I couldn't help but to stare now. "Oopsie," she squealed and scooped up the errant bubbles, flicking them back into the sink. "Oh ... I almost forgot this," she said and put a dry towel over my eyes to keep the soap out. I was disappointed, to say the least.

'I'd love to be those bubbles right now, ' my brain offered again. Unfortunately, the blood rushing out of my brain to other parts of my body wasn't from the 'libido district' and the sexual thoughts kept coming. This led to a few more spasms in my nether regions, but I don't think Babs noticed this time. She was really working the lather on my head now, and her eyes were closed as she continued to work the suds in. She leaned in a few times for a particularly hard massage and her breasts were mere inches from me. I groaned a little more loudly this time and I thought I heard a small one from her.

If she had been distracted, she recovered quickly and grabbed the sprayer. Checking the temperature, she got it back where she wanted it and rinsed my head gently, careful to get all the suds out and be sure I was squeaky clean.

"Back in the chair?" I suggested, starting to rise and forgetting that my head was soaking wet.

Babs gently put her hand on my chest and pushed me back down. Her touch again sent sparks through me. She could have just told me what I had forgotten, but she leaned in very close to my ear and almost whispered, "I'm going to use conditioner, too." Her breasts were brushing against my upper arm and shoulder now and blood was continuing to flow south. I wasn't sure how much longer I could actually remain conscious with this little blood flow to my brain. My erection was painful. "Just relax," she said soothingly, and I tried.

With the towel over my eyes, my other senses were somehow more alert. Now I noticed her smell. Even over the fragrance of the shampoo and conditioner, I could smell her. It was very subtle, but it smelled faintly of perfume ... and arousal?

The conditioner being worked into my hair was no less stimulating than the shampoo, but I tried to remain calm and relax. 'Was that the sound of a zipper again?' my undersexed brain asked. This wasn't really working, so I tried again to calm down. It worked a little and my cock was thankful for any slight decrease in pressure. Barbara worked the sprayer again and soon had the conditioner rinsed out, too. She carefully dried my head with a towel, oddly leaving the hand towel over my eyes. I went to remove it, but she held it in place with her hand over mine. That touch again ... so much for the reduced pressure.

"I'll help you to the chair. Just leave it for a minute, please?" she asked.

"O ... OK," was all I could manage to croak out as she led me back to the barber chair.

And then it happened, as she guided me to the chair and turned me to get me seated, her hand brushed up against my groin. It could have been an accident, but it was hard to tell with the cloth still obstructing most of my vision. She didn't react in disgust or shock and I swore I heard her moan and whisper something. Maybe approval? She laid a warm towel on my neck next and wrapped the cloak around me to keep the hair off. When I was seated and covered, I managed to re-arrange my cock in my pants a bit and relieve some of the discomfort. I heard a giggle for sure this time.

I'm not sure where my boldness came from all of a sudden. I was still kind of that shy geek from high school, but I had been lusting over this woman for years and never had the balls to do anything about it. I'll chalk it up to the fact that my brain was blood-deprived and I just blurted out, "Well ... if you weren't so fucking gorgeous, it wouldn't be such a problem now would it?" It came out in a burst of words and just hung there in the room for a second. I regretted saying it as soon as I was done.

"God, do you know how long I've been waiting and hoping to hear you say that? You're not too hard on the eyes yourself, sailor," she said and she removed the towel covering my eyes. She was on my right side now and I blinked a bit when the lights first struck my eyes. I caught sight of her in the mirror first and my eyes nearly popped from my head when I noticed that her skirt was gone. It was carefully laid on the countertop near some of the shavers, but that 'zip' I thought I heard wasn't just my imagination run wild. She had taken off her skirt and was standing next to me in her gorgeous heels, with those stunning legs encased in stockings, wearing a garter and very small, frilly black panties. Her sweater was still on, but it was unzipped nearly to her navel now and her large, firm breasts were straining against a bra which matched the panties in both style and near-nothingness. It could barely contain her lovely tits and she just smiled at me in the mirror. "I told you it was hot in here," she said with a smile and walked forward to grab a scissor and comb.

'If it wasn't hot before, it is now, ' my brain offered. The next-to-nothing panties turned out to be a g-string and I got a full, but quick, view of her spectacular ass as she grabbed the tools of her trade from their place on the shelf and turned back to me. She was still smiling as she sauntered the few steps back to me. "You like?" she asked, twirling in place just for full effect.

"What's not to like? Have I been missing this kind of 'after hours' service all these years?" I offered jokingly, trying to keep from leaping from my seat and attacking her right on the spot.

"Maybe," she responded. "Let's just have a little fun with it, OK?" And with that she went to work. My cock was nearly bursting at this point, but Babs managed to put on her business face and began to cut my hair. It was maybe more caring and touchy-feely than any haircut I've ever had, but it was still done with purpose. If she was as hot and horny as I was, she hid it much better than I did as she got down to business.

I heard the sound before she did and I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was a rattle and then a key in the lock of the front door!

"Babs!" I hissed, throwing my head towards the door. Babs grabbed the zipper of her sweater and yanked it upwards. Thankfully or disappointingly, depending on your viewpoint, she hadn't completely unzipped and removed it it, merely left it hanging wide open and inviting. There was no way she was going to get back into her skirt before the door opened, so she pressed herself into the chair and went back to cutting. The chair essentially screened her lower body from the doorway.

Pete's head popped through first and the rest quickly followed. "You two still at it?" he asked, not realizing that we hadn't yet started to 'go at it' and that he was probably interrupting the 'at it' part. "I forgot my hat. It's freezing out there. Stay warm!" he offered. And with that, he was out the door, locking it behind him again as quickly as he had come in.

Babs burst out laughing as soon as the lock snicked home, thankfully moving the sharp scissors away from me as her body convulsed in laughter. It was a joyous sound, but also filled with a bit of relief. "I'm a big girl," she offered between laughs, "but I'm still not sure I want Dad catching me half naked and 'with a boy'!" She leaned in and put her forehead on the side of my head. She smelled delicious and I turned my head and kissed her full on the lips. She tasted great, too. I snaked my right arm out from beneath the cloak and wrapped it around her waist, dropping it briefly to cup her ass as our tongues fought for space in each others mouths. I pulled her to me against the chair and she sighed a bit, moaned, and then pulled away.