Thanks to EmeraldKitten for all her help with this story.
Once again, this is a pure stroke story. No great redeeming literary value at all.
And don't forget to vote and send me comments. The more feedback I get, the harder I'll work to keep you entertained.
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Halloween, just after 5:30. I'm glad of my leather jacket for the fall evening is chilly.
Turning my head to the right I can see my reflection in a convenience store window. Rangy is the best word to describe my build. I'm thin and rather tall. My hair and beard are now mostly grey, changing from the dull brown they used to be. With my jacket, black jeans and black cowboy boots I look like a biker who gave it up to be a literature prof. I smile at myself, pleased with the dichotomy.
"But I could use a haircut,"
I decide.
Looking ahead, I see a bit of serendipity. There's a hair stylist's shop just up the street a bit.
I continue walking until I reach the stylist's door. I open it and a little bell rings to announce my entrance. The shop is very small. All I can see is a front desk with a cash register and some beauty products displayed behind glass. A divider walls off the entrance from the bulk of the shop. Construction paper pumpkins and witches decorate the walls. Creepy music sounds from speakers mounted on the dividing barrier.
The door closes behind me and the bell rings again. A young woman emerges from the working area hidden from me.
"Woof!"
is my first thought on seeing her.
The young lady in question is taller than many, about 5' 8". She is not that stick insect thin widely popular, but rather nicely filled out. She would attract my attention even if she wasn't dressed the way she was. I scan my eyes over the length of her to take in the full effect.
I start at her neck, and note the pale, soft skin there.
"Tasty,"
I think. She's wearing a black shirt with brown trim, top buttons undone so that her full breasts are displayed almost to the nipple. A very short black skirt encases her hips. Her lovely legs are contained in fishnet stockings of matching colour. Ankle boots with four inch heels and the same shade are on her trim feet.
With a bit of chagrin, I realize what I'm doing. I move my eyes to hers, which are a sparkling brown. Her beautiful face is long with a pointed chin. Hair is a deep, dark red and curly. A pair of leopard spotted ears sticks out from the riotous mane.
"Ah, yes. A real sex kitten indeed."
She grins at me, as if she's following my thoughts. "Hello. Can I help you?" she asks.
"You certainly may," I reply. My lecherous smile indicates exactly what that help could be. "I need a hair cut and beard trim."
"It's going to cost you," she laughs back. "But I can take care of you. Just follow me..." And she turns to head back towards the area she emerged from.
Following her, I move past the Halloween decorations and through the spooky music. As I do, I admire her from behind. Those statuesque legs that lead up to a gorgeous well-built ass. A leopard's tail completes the kitten ensemble. Her back towards me offers an opportunity. I reach into my pants to adjust my stiffening anatomy. There's no subtle way to do that.
As I move past the wall I see her station. A small shelf full of her equipment sits under a large mirror with a barber's chair in front of it. There is only the one station. This shop must be her own.
She leans forward to pick up a cape. Her skirt rides up a bit and I can just see the bottoms of her cheeks. I can't tell if she's wearing a thong or doing without. My prick grows harder at the sight.
The lovely woman I've been staring at turns to me with a smile and gestures at the chair. "Have a seat, sir." I think I see her eyes widen a bit as they run over the bulge in my pants.
Grinning back at her, I climb into the chair.
Graceful hands fasten the cape around my neck and pivot the chair towards the mirror. Standing to my right, she catches my reflected eyes with hers and asks, "So, what am I doing to you today?" There's a slight pause as she realizes what she's said. "Er, rather, how close do you want it?"
"As close as you want to get," is my answer. I arch an eyebrow at her to make it plain I'm not talking about hair.
Her shimmering eyes expand for a second, then a slow, wicked smile creeps across her mouth. "Sounds good to me," she says.
Reaching over to grab the clippers, she slips an attachment on them and starts it whirring. One leg goes to the foot pump of the chair. She hikes her skirt a touch, revealing her thigh to me. With forceful steps, the chair is raised to the height needed for her work. My gaze travels to the erotic sight, watching the muscles work. A wave of pure lust passes through me.
Her brown eyes smirk at me in the mirror, amused by my hard wired male reaction. Moving closer she presses her lush breasts into my shoulder. The clippers are moved towards my hair.