My wife, Drew, cuts my hair.
She's been doing it for years. Every two or three weeks she sits me down on a stool in the kitchen, gathers up the electric shears and a set of scissors cuts my hair, trims my eyebrows and ears, and generally makes me presentable to the world. She makes the decision about when she's going to do it, but it's usually on a Saturday morning. I'm one of those guys who doesn't seem to be particularly sensitive about how I look to others. My wife cares, though, and she teases me that people will think I'm some sort of a bum and that's she's not a very good wife since her husband looks so crummy.
The fact is she's a terrific wife. She takes care of me very well, feeds me, does my laundry, keeps the house clean and neat, gardens, sews, helps people a lot, entertains company very nicely, and even earns some money with various jobs she does. Everyone who knows her thinks she's the most terrific person they ever met.
I think so, too. And beside all that, she's terrific looking, and a great bed partner. We've been married for just over twelve years, and I don't know of any woman who looks better than she does, especially when she's naked. I keep telling her that with her 34C boobs, narrow waist and tight little ass she's centerfold material. She giggles and accuses me of some sort of bias. We enjoy a lot of sex, which suits me just fine, of course. Haircuts are a playtime for us. We both know that it's going to end up with a great fuck, sometimes more than that.
This morning, her eyes twinkling, she reminds me over the breakfast table that it's time for my hair cut. We both know what happens when she makes that announcement. Breakfast was French toast with fruit syrup, and good Colombian coffee. We're both in our sweats, our normal haircut attire. We always put our sweats on when she schedules me for the barber shop, even though both of us usually are naked on Saturday mornings. We finish eating and while she goes to collect the necessary tools I clear the table and load the dishwasher. I pull the stool out from under the kitchen counter and put it in the middle of the floor. She returns with the tools and puts them on the counter.
She stands in front of me when I take my seat on the stool. She's checking out her strategy of what to do with my hair, and I'm checking out her body. She's not wearing any bra or panties, I know that. Under her sweats she's entirely naked, the way I like her to be. She hardly ever wears a bra out of deference to me. I can see her tits jiggling lightly on her chest. I feel the heat begin to build up in my groin. My hands feel a little tight, wanting to grasp those luscious boobs and squeeze them. In fact, I find myself salivating as I think about sucking on them. I reach out and put my arms around her waist and pull her between my knees, sliding my hands down around her ass and squeezing. She bends her head down and we kiss. I can taste her hormones faintly. It makes me grin. I slide my hands inside her seat bottoms. She slaps at them and laughs.
"Careful, dear, or you won't get your hair done," she giggles. "Or it will be all chopped up and you won't be happy with me."
"You know I'm always happy with you, darling," I murmur as I lift her top a little and kiss her belly button. My cheek brushes against the bottoms of her tits.
She pushes me away a little.
"Now be patient," she says. "It's not playtime, not yet, it's hair cutting time."
"With you, my darling, it's always play time and you know it!" I mutter against her chest, feeling the swellings of her breasts against my cheeks.
"Yes, I know," she says in mock resignation as she pushes my head back and making me sit up straight. "Now just behave and let's get this done. You're such a naughty boy sometimes! Come on, help me, I want to get this done before you brother gets here."
I laugh as she picks up the electric clippers and moves around me to get in good position. My twin brother is due to arrive in about an hour. She had a hard time deciding which of us to marry, not that it makes a lot of difference now. I do my best to keep a hand lightly on her butt, but of course I can't keep it there without moving my head and making her scold me. I can't begin to describe how much I love this woman!
She snips away, come of the clippings falling into my lap and on my shoulders. She moves around me as she works. When she gets into a place where I can reach her, my hands are on her body, under her clothes as much as I can manage it. She doesn't mind, as long as I hold still. We chat about different things as she cuts, but a lot of it is foreplay in words. I tease her about Dave coming over later.
"I love you!" I tell her. "Dave loves you, too!"
"I know, I know, and that's very nice, but just hold still for now, okay?" she teases me. "I mean it!" she says as she tries to keep me on task.
She finally puts the electric clippers down and picks up the scissors. She stands in front of me again, looking at where she has to refine her job. I push my head against her chest and try to take a nipple between my lips, right through her top. She pushes me away playfully.
"You are so naughty!" she says.
"You don't like it!" I tease.
"That's not the point!" she exclaims, "the question is, do you want a hair cut or not?"
"I don't care. Well, yeah, I guess," I answer, letting the words hang in the air as I reach behind her and grasp her ass again. I fumble to get my hands inside her sweat pants and grasp her skin directly. She wiggles as if to shake me off.
"I'd really rather just fuck you, you know!" I leer at her.
