To give you some backstory, I'm twenty-five, I'm a finance manager based out of central London, and, until the events of this story, I truly believed I was a
good
person.
I'd first met Alice just before my twenty third birthday, and within a week I knew she was the one I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
She was only a little shorter than me, 5'7" to my 5'11", with blue eyes to contrast my hazel ones, and dirty blonde hair to compliment my dark brown. It wasn't her looks that drew me in though, she only had a small bum, and her chest was next to non-existent.
We had the same sense of humour, seemed to have the same plans for life, a house, dog and kids, that whole dream of a picket fence life.
Within a year of seeing her, we'd moved in together, and the year after that I had proposed and to my amazement, she had said yes.
It was two weeks to our wedding, when out of the blue Alice turned to me and said this.
"I want to make out wedding night out of this world."
"Oh" I replied with a raised eyebrow. My fiancΓ©, love her dearly as I did was never one for adventure, especially in the bedroom, so her suggestion intrigued me.
"I have a surprise planned, but we can't have sex until then," she said.
Two weeks I thought, I could manage that easily, I'd done it before. Besides it wasn't like we were nymphos in that department anyway, rarely having sex more than a couple times a week. Though I had to admit to myself I would eagerly increase that number. Regardless, before I knew, it would be the wedding. What I hadn't planned for however, was my fiancΓ© constantly teasing throughout.
In those two weeks she'd strutted about in more sexy outfits than our entire relationship up to that point. Made every other sentence some form of sexual innuendo and seemed to have some form of Fifty Shades style film playing at all times.
By the time it was the day before the wedding I was close to bursting with sexual frustration. I had never anticipated sex like this since when I was virgin teenager at the height of puberty.
The plan was to spend the night before the big day in separate hotel rooms, to build the anticipation even more, and avoid the age-old bad luck of seeing the bride to be in her wedding dress.
As I went to bid her farewell before we spent the night apart, she kissed me, far longer and far more passionately than needed I noted.
"Hmm," Alice said as she ran a hand down my cheek, "you need a shave, you're far too stubbly."
"I'll do it today."
"No baby, you always tend to nick yourself shaving, and I don't want to see you with shaving cuts on our big day."
She paused for a moment, making the face she did when thinking hard, then she beamed with inspiration.
"I've got an idea, my childhood friend Susanna is a barber, I bet she can shave you a lot better than yourself, why don't you go see her this afternoon?" It wasn't so much a question, but a polite command.
"It'll also be good for you to meet her before the wedding," she added. "She's spent most of the past few years working in Australia, but I've told her so much about you, she's absolutely dying to meet you!"
With that it was settled, we said our goodbyes once more, and I was given yet another extremely passionate embrace, then we parted.
-----
When I got to the barbers it was about four thirty, the shop was a small, cute place just off the high street.
Susanna's - Barber's & Hair Stylist
, sat above the door in ornate writing, and unusually the windows only revealed a reception and a corridor leading back into the building.
A bell rung as I pushed open the door, and a woman in her early twenties got up from the reception desk.
I couldn't help but give her an instinctive look over, and cursed myself for doing so, hoping she hadn't noticed.
A pair of tight blue jeans clung to her shapely legs and a low-cut t-shirt displayed her impressive cleavage. Even Alice would be jealous of the young woman's size.
"Hi there, can I help you?" she flashed me a smile and twirled a finger through a blonde curl absently.
I straightened and replied that I was here to see Susanna and that I had an appointment in a few minutes.
The girl deflated somewhat then smiled again as if she had thought of something amusing.
"She's just down the corridor, last door on your right."
"Thank you," I replied with a smile of my own and headed in the direction she indicated.
As I walked down it, she called back.
"I hope you
enjoy
yourself," and then giggled.
Strange,
I thought to myself. But oh well, maybe she was just laughing at the older man who couldn't help but perv at her boobs. Not that I really considered myself that old, and it was only a glance at that.
I reached the door she had told me and tapped gently on it.
"Come in," a light voice called out. I opened the door and entered.
Inside the room was lined on one wall with a mirror, with counter and basins like a traditional barbershop. However, the other walls were a dark green, and a bamboo stool held a diffuser that softly released a thin ribbon of wispy steam.
There was one chair, a rich leather chair like that in any barber shop I seen before. Beside it stood a goddess.
The word had come to me instinctively, but I regretted thinking it all the same. The only goddess in my life was Alice. Still, I couldn't deny how attractive the woman was.
She stood 5'4" tall, luscious dark curls that ended at her shoulders, wicked eyes, and full lips the colour of ripe peaches. She wore white trainers with no socks. My eyes trailed up the sleek smooth skin of her bare legs until they reached the high placement of her thrilled miniskirt.
Next, I bathed in the view of her toned midriff, slightly exposed before a tight t-shirt two sizes too small hid the rest from view. It didn't hide the shape of her chest however, two b or c cups constrained by the tight fabric, the outline of her nipples clearly visible.
I realized I hadn't spoken since entering the room, but she took the first move.
"Hi! You must be Alice's fiance, I'm so glad to
finally
meet you." She exclaimed confidentiality closing the gap between us and embracing me in a hug like lifelong friends. I felt myself stir ever so slightly below as her tits squished themselves against my chest. Tomorrow couldn't come sooner.
"Alice has told me literally
everything
there is about you, and I can see she did not lie about your good looks," she said as she released me, leaving me glad that she wouldn't feel the semi growing in my pants, but also I thought guilty, regretful that the embrace didn't last longer.
"Now," she said, "Alice said you wanted a shave, right?" As she spoke she ran her hand along my whiskers. "Personally I prefer a man with stubble, that rugged look y'know, though clean shaven is better for some." The sensation of her hand running down my jaw left me with goosebumps.
I'd always tended to go clean shaven, I preferred how I looked that way. Not just my face either. Ever since 18 I'd kept downstairs well-groomed as well, the few girls I'd seen before settling with Alice always appreciated the look of it too.
"Especially," Susanna continued, as if reading the line of my thoughts, "if the man intends to...