“Oh, that does
feel good. Please don’t stop!”
Warm fingers
massaged the nape of my neck, kneading and circling in small, firm
movements. I felt my tension melt
away. The girl laughed.
“Some people come here just for this alone.”
“That wouldn’t
surprise me, Kara!”
Tepid water
coursed over the crown of my head.
“Could you make
it hotter?”
“Aren’t you warm
enough? Well, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you,
sweetie.”
Smooth, lightly
scented skin brushed my cheek as the girl reached forward to adjust the faucet
behind my head. It had to be at least
six months since I’d been in for a haircut.
I felt almost guilty, cringing inwardly as Kara raised a perfect eyebrow
at my split ends. What a gorgeous girl
she was, ‘though. A perfect figure. Large, firm breasts and smooth, round hips. She usually wore skin-tight jeans and a
loose-necked style of top, so that you could admire her cleavage when she bent
to squirt the shampoo onto your hair. I
envied her hair, a lush curling waist-length mass that varied in hue from
dazzling auburn to jet black, depending on Kara’s mood du jour.
“So, what can I
do for you today, Mrs B?”
God, she made me
feel like a senior citizen. OK, so I
wasn’t twenty-something like the lovely K, but I wasn’t ready for the
scrap-yard yet. I gave my usual
response.
“Just trim it to
shoulder length, cut me some bangs and add as much volume as you can, thanks.”
“You’re sure you
don’t want to try something new?”
I stared
longingly at the deep crevasse of golden skin before my eyes. Kara’s breasts wobbled as she briskly
massaged the shampoo through my saturated locks. I had an intense urge to reach up and squeeze
them. Her fiance was one lucky guy. I sighed softly.
“Any
suggestions?”
It’s not always
wise to give your stylist free rein but I felt in the mood for taking a
chance. Kara started to rinse off the
suds, the water nice and hot, just the way I like it.
“Well, what
about going a bit shorter than your regular style and adding some color? It doesn’t have to be permanent, so if you
don’t like it, it’ll wash out over a few shampoos.”
The young girl
looked down at me with an appraising eye.
“You actually
have quite a bit of red in your natural shade, so I’d suggest a light auburn
tint. I think you’ll love it and it’ll
really bring out those lovely blue eyes.”
I blushed. God help me, I actually went as red as the
hue the stylist proposed! Things were
really heating up in the salon.
“Are you sure
the water isn’t too warm, Mrs B? You’ve
gone rather pink.”
“It’s just
perfect, thank you, Kara. And I think
I’ll go with your ideas.”
The heat in my
cheeks intensified as the girl applied a dollop of conditioner and smoothed it
sensuously over my squeaky-clean tresses.
I looked blissfully up into a rather concerned pair of green eyes.
“You’re not
having a hot flash are you, Mrs B? Would
you like a glass of water?”
I
stiffened.
“I haven’t
reached that stage of life yet, Kara.
I’m just fine.”
It was the young
girl’s turn to color.
“Oops! Foot in mouth disease. But it does happen to women in their
thirties, you know. My cousin…”
“Light auburn,
you say? Can I see a shade chart?”
It was rude of
me to interrupt but I’ve battled raging hormones for nearly three decades and
the novelty of the topic has long since worn off. Kara entered obedient servant mode and
fetched me a chart. I sat up as she
swathed my head and shoulders in a towel and vigorously rubbed me dry. A dizzying selection of colored hair swatches
greeted my curious eye. How on earth
could I select the right one for me?
“I think I’m
going to need some help, Kara. I don’t
want anything too bright.”
We left the
basin and headed for the big swivel chair in front of the gilt-edged
mirror. As usual, I tried to avoid my
reflection in the glass. It’s not that
I’m ugly – far from it, or so I’ve been told – but the bright overhead light is
so unflattering. Kara flipped through
the hair samples with a critical gaze.
Finally, she selected one.
“I think we
should try Vavoom!”
I laughed.
“Well, it
certainly has a wonderful name. Let’s
have a look.”
Kara laid the
swatch against my cheek, nodded in satisfaction, then showed me the soft light
auburn strands. Suddenly, I felt a surge
of excitement, a sense of new and thrilling potentials opening up at the hint
of a tint. A change of hair color is
like that, if it’s a well selected choice.
“I think I’ll
take you in the back, Mrs B. The
beautician doesn’t have a client right now and it’s much more relaxing than the
main salon.”
Slightly
surprised, I let the stylist lead me, draped in my plastic cape and towel,
through a warren of cubicles to a small pink room with a state of the art
reclining chair. Kara closed the door
and, to my vague concern, locked it behind us.
She smiled reassuringly.
“Don’t want us
to be disturbed. You’re rather tense,
Mrs B. I’d like to offer you a special
relaxing treatment free of charge. I’ll
do your hair too, of course. But first,
I want to try out some special techniques I’ve been learning at home.”
I realized my
mouth was hanging open like a fish and promptly closed it. Kara handed me a thick toweling robe and
gestured to a screen.
“If you’ll just
take off your clothes and put this robe on.
This is all right with you, isn’t it, Mrs B? You do have time?”
“Yes, I suppose
so, Kara. But tell me – what does this
treatment involve?”
The young woman
smiled.
“If you don’t
mind, Mrs B, I’d like that to remain a surprise. I just know you’ll find it very helpful. Relaxing.”
Hmm. There was something about the way the minx
was looking at me. Had she sensed my
desire to lavish attention on her luscious boobs? Surely not.
I was imagining things. I stepped
behind the pretty floral screen and took off my clothes, feeling as nervy and
awkward as a patient at a gynecology clinic.
The luxurious robe allayed my fears, however, super-thick, baby soft and
lightly rose scented. Lovely. I crept out from behind the screen and lay
down on the long leatherette chair. Kara appeared to be fiddling with some kind
of electronic box. She turned off the
bright overhead light, leaving just a soft pink glow from a silk shaded
lamp. Mmm, I was already beginning to
relax, with the comfortable seat and the gentle, perfumed atmosphere. The stylist leaned over me and I realized,
with a sudden shock, that she was unwrapping the toweling robe.
“I just want to
see. Don’t worry, Mrs B. Please relax.
This is going to be wonderful, I promise.”
I held my breath
as Kara exposed my naked torso. I have a
very average kind of body, a bit plump around the tummy and hips. Quite large breasts of the soft and wobbly
variety. Remembering that I had shaved
my pussy the night before, I blushed again, glancing furtively down at my round
pink Mound of Venus. The stylist turned
to the little electronic box. A soft hum
commenced as she turned a dial. Then she
picked up what seemed to be a round headed massaging device, attached to the
box by a curly cord.
“You see, Mrs B,
there is more than one kind of Vavoom.
This is number two.”
Kara leaned over
me, her boobies bulging almost in my face.
I relaxed, deciding to enjoy the joyous vista sans guilt. After all, what did I have left to hide? The young woman applied the vibrating massage
head to my shoulders. The moment the
soft rubber cushion met my flesh it was as if we were intimately connected,
Kara and I. Her breasts jiggled
perfectly in time with the tiny circular motions her hand performed upon my
yielding skin. It felt divine and I told
her so. She smiled in satisfaction.
“I just knew
you’d love it, Mrs B.”
Soft, springy
curls of russet hair brushed my nipples and I felt a tiny drop of love-juice
ease its way over my plump, nude labia.
Kara was going to drive me crazy with this therapy of hers. I wanted to open my thighs to her. I was desperate for her to lower her crimson
lips to nuzzle my clit. Suddenly, it occurred
to me that she had asked me to lie face-up and, surely, such a massage would
normally be done in the reverse position.
Hmmm. Maybe there was more to the
young lady than met the eye… The
whirring rubber cushion completed its shoulder-loosening task and headed
south. I gasped as the buzzing sensation
edged its way to the outer limits of my right breast. Was she really going to give me such an
intimate massage?
“Breast massage
is becoming quite popular these days.
Stimulating the circulation seems to ease the symptoms of PMS. Would you like to try it, Mrs B?”
I swallowed hard
and almost squeaked out an affirmative response. Would Kara gossip about me in the staff
room? That lesbian pervert Mrs
Bright. Well, too bad. She had started it! My right boob began to wobble outrageously,
ecstatic sensations coursing through my blissed-out bod. It was too much. How could the girl keep a straight face, I
wondered, as I watched the stylist carefully apply the massage-head to my large
pink tits. It resembled an earthquake in
Jello. Carefully, Kara cupped my breast
in her free hand, holding it gently as she moved the rubber cushion round and
round. My nipples stood to attention,
fully erect. My pussy was slick, creamy,
juicy. I lay in an agony of ecstasy, a
helpless victim to the pretty girl with the electronic box.
“I think I’ll
turn it up a bit. You do seem to be
benefiting, Mrs B.”
I bit my lip as
the buzz intensified and Kara switched to my other breast. Instead of moving around the chair, she
leaned further over me, almost tipping her bountiful cleavage into my face. I decided that she was a sadist and was on
the verge of telling her so, when she paused to reach for a large pink bottle
labeled “Crème de Aphrodite”. With a flick of her wrist she squirted a copious
dollop of divinely scented mousse onto my chest and began to massage it all
over my tit. I couldn’t help
myself. I had an orgasm. I tried to suppress it, really I did, but I
might as well have attempted to stop the tide.
I glanced up at the stylist, feeling desperately guilty as the inner
contractions ebbed away. Had she
noticed? Smooth warm fingers kneaded my
melony mounds, spreading the lovely moisturizing mousse. My boobs glistened. Kara looked pleased.
“I think you’re
going to see a big improvement, Mrs B.
Now, just turn over and I’ll do your other side.”
I eased myself
out of the loosened robe and lay back down on my front. The smooth warm fingers rested on the small
of my back.
“Don’t think I
didn’t notice what happened then, Mrs B.”
I felt my face
grow scarlet and was quite pleased that it was hidden from the girl. Her hand began to caress my buttocks and I
moaned softly.
“I should spank
you, shouldn’t I? Would you like it if I
did?”
I was hearing
things. I had to be hallucinating. The electronic pulsing had fried my nervous
system and addled my brain. I ground my
hips against the warm soft surface of the leatherette chair. Almost involuntarily, I pushed my big plump
bottom up towards the stylist’s hand. I
adore being spanked. But I’d never been
spanked by another woman.
“Naughty, Mrs
B!”
Kara’s voice was
mildly taunting, very amused. Suddenly,
she brought the palm of her hand down smartly against the sensitive under-shelf
of my naked rear. I yelped, more from
surprise than pain. It was deliciously
stingy.
“Having an
orgasm in the beauty salon!”
The stingy
sensation repeated itself. I squirmed,
parting my thighs and beginning to make fucking motions on the chair. I desperately needed further release. Kara began to spank me quite hard, one hand
on my back, the other slapping my wobbling buttocks fast and sharp.
“I’ll expect a
decent tip after this session!”
I mumbled
promises of generosity into the chair. I
was coming again. My bottom felt hot and
happy. It was way too long since I’d
last been spanked. As my second orgasm
began to break, the young girl pushed her heated fingers deep inside my pulsing
cunt.
“Is that better,
Mrs B? I bet that feels good. Turn over again and we’ll finish your
treatment.”
I let her take
me to a third and final high, her deft, strong fingers spreading my copious
juice around and about my swollen clit.
I was like putty in the young woman’s hands. She could do anything with me. This was therapy indeed. I lay well-oiled and gasping like a fish out
of water, as Kara wrapped me in a heated towel.
“I trust I can
put you down for a monthly session, Mrs B?”
The minx. We hadn’t even started on my new
hairstyle. I’d need to take out a loan
to pay my salon bills if the girl kept this up.
A monthly session? Why, I’d have
a daily one if I could afford it…
“So, that was
Vavoom 2.”
Kara
laughed.
“Just wait ‘til
we do your hair. You’re going to be a
new woman!”
I eased myself
up from the oily chair. I could have
happily stayed there all day, so deep was my sense of relaxation.
“That’s
wonderful, Kara. Well, I suppose I did
need a bit of a lift!”
The young woman
gestured to the floral screen.
“Just get back
into your clothes and we’ll head into the salon for your color and cut.”
I limped over to
the screen, having a bit of trouble regaining the use of my legs. She was potent stuff, Miss Kara. Stifling a giggle, I wondered if it would be
safe to ask her for a bikini wax…
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