Another salon appointment had come around for body waxing, but, for some reason, I had been looking forward to this one a little more than usual.
That might have had something to do with expectations as to what might happen as well as the fact that I had been sexually charged after recently spending a day locked in chastity and having my Lovense plug continually controlled by randoms for another work day.
(As an aside, one particular take-over of the device, amongst a string of back-to-back sessions was met with a quick DM which read: "Full power for you, slut!" as the plug burst straight into life at full whack.)
The receipt of a text before I'm due to leave to make the salon appointment time, stating: "I'm ready for you now," is becoming a regular thing. In the hour or two before the appointment, and after I had once again counted down the days, and then hours, my phone pinged with notifications for this, that and the other.
I would hear those notifications chime, but on a few occasions, would see they were all for just ordinary things. That was until around an hour before my actual appointment time. Again, the notification sound went, again I picked it up but this time, there it was again -- "I'm ready for you now" it said.
I was soon on my way with a whole range of possibilities going around my head.
Did He have a reason to get off home early hence calling me in early?
Would the salon be overly busy when I got there?
Would there be anyone else there at all?
Was I anticipating too much?
On arrival from a dull, damp and cold day outside, He was dismissing His staff from their shift. They already had their coat, hat and gloves on -- and all was quiet with no customers around.
As the staff left, I made my way into the comfortable, comforting warmth of the treatment room and heard the door close behind me. Through it, I could hear the muffled noises of the farewells and pleasantries that were going on out there.
There was something different about the chair in the corner of the room. This time, it had a towel on it, neatly folded flat to cover the seat pad for the user to sit upon. This was not something I had seen before and I came up with many reasons as to why this was but never asked.
I had only just started to undress when He came in but said that He hadn't locked the door as He was expecting the entry chime to go. He had barely had a chance to finish His sentence when that chime went.
I had still not even finished getting undressed, and had, in fact, still (only) got my skimpy new sexy thong on when He came back in. I lingered for a second or two before slowly and arguably sluttily peeling the undies down, neither knowing nor caring whether He had noticed or not.
As ever, the assessment of my body hair was carried out. Little needed doing but little was still done as if to justify the reason for the journey to the salon and the appointment to the World outside.
There was no idle chit chat as He worked though. We discussed the lack of hair growth and the conversation got on to how long I had been visiting the salon. It had been a while.
He had plans -- if I consented. I asked Him if that was a rhetorical question. He told me that two cocks that I had been used by and had serviced some time ago were due in after me. I enquired as to when, thinking of when I was booked in and that I had arrived around 25 minutes before I was due and wondered to myself as to whether there had been more than just arranging separate business appointments going on but took no offence from it. Quite the contrary.
As He waxed, He mused that they were due in around 30 minutes after my official appointment time had ended (but were likely to be in early) but that, if I wanted, and most importantly, if they wanted, there could be some playtime.
But He went further by saying that there could have been a third cock joining us, only they were not able to make it.
It felt like I was being prepared for what was to follow. But I wasn't objecting.
Conversation became direct. As he had done many times before, he again told me that I give the best blow jobs He has ever had. Again, I thanked Him modestly adding by way of reminder that I had never had any form of training.
He also freely admitted with a laugh in his voice, that when He had seen me servicing other cocks in his company before, he had felt a little jealous. I was flattered.
In between moments of anticipant yet somehow erotic silence, I opened up with a chronology of my development at His hands over the years -- from musing over my first ever innocent appointment to be body waxed, to when I first blew him many years later, then when he broke me in, and, latterly, when I first swallowed his load -- details down to the month and year, exact delivery of facts seemingly taken him by surprise.
His response to these revelations was that He felt He needed to be sucked between spells of waxing, just to keep Him at least partially satiated. As we talked and as he worked on waxing me, his crotch was occasionally pressed hard against me.
Again, after another period of erotic, sexual tension building silence had been broken, I opened up about one of my sexual fantasies, one being to be used by multiple cocks and take multiple loads.
He asked me how I wanted to take them.
"Both ends" I replied.
He asked me if I had ever been bred before. I replied stating that I hadn't, (my experiences only ever having been in his company -- not that he would necessarily remember nor conclude that) reminding him that on the odd occasion He had fucked me bareback, he had almost cum inside me as I was so tight.
He mused that multiple cocks could be made possible to make that fantasy a reality, but the conversation went on to the valid, key and most important matter of playing safe.
He remarked on the current rise in the number of certain STDs, that even pre-cum could lead to things, and more seriously, but yet positively, how HIV can be treated these days and wasn't the 'thing' it used to be, but that He would never put me at risk and would only ever prepare known safe cocks for me.
Again, I said that I didn't want to take any risks but seemingly, with far less caution than I had applied last time the subject of bareback sex was broached, which was some considerable time ago.
As it turned out, there were to be none of those forecast spells in which He could slot his hardening cock inside my mouth in between waxing, but He would soon get what He wanted anyway.
Suddenly, the door chime went again.
He left the room to answer it, closing the door behind Him. I could hear more than one voice, but the conversations were discreet, at a low level, and indistinguishable through the closed door, but somehow, I knew they were talking about (using) me, the added excitement for all being that I was there -- naked -- ready and readied -- just through the door.
The external conversation seemed to go on for some minutes and sounded like options were being presented.
Alone with my thoughts, and sitting on the edge of the treatment table, naked, I smiled smugly to myself knowing that I was the sub, the toy, the holes that had been put on a plate for use.
After a few minutes, He came back in to confirm that they were staying out there having a coffee, but were very much up for play and that He would finish waxing and then call them in because they were happy to come in and use me.
