Late the next afternoon, the sky had darkened quickly and our generator failed. We were on a narrow highway in the middle of the woods, and for a moment Dylann began to panic.
"My worst nightmare," she moaned. There was no other traffic on the road; we were out in the Alabama countryside far from any help, and a storm was about to begin...
A white wooden church steeple appeared around the corner as our lights dimmed, and we caught sight of a mailbox just after that.
"What do you think?" asked Dylann.
"Let's take a chance. We don't have much choice." I replied. We nosed the car down the clay driveway.
A long covered porch appeared through the trees and we parked in front of the house. A slim figure stepped out onto the porch, and we waved. Melanie was in her late thirties, slim and tall with shoulder-length curly black hair and lots of tattoos. She lived there with her daughter Bailey, a slim very pale teenager with her mother's green eyes, but with freckles and longer black hair. We chatted for a bit, and then went inside the house. It was an older home, with a pine-needle covered tin roof.
Melanie had an interesting story. She was married, her husband currently in jail serving a sentence for meth possession. She was a cosmetologist, who worked at a salon but also at home. Her home was filled with plants and antiques, and had stained glass windows and it had lots of quirky character.
I went outside, and put the top up on the convertible. It was starting to rain hard, and I brought a couple of bags inside.
"You can borrow my car," Melanie said. "I sure ain't using it. The auto parts store just an hour away, over in White Shoals." She couldn't drive her car because she had lost her license after a drunk driving arrest. I didn't have my license yet, so obviously I would have to stay while Dylann went. The town was only about a half-hour away though. As Dylann drove out of the driveway, the rain turned into a downpour, the rain beating relentlessly on the tin roof. Melanie lit about a dozen candles when the lights went out.
"I guess I'm collateral, so you'll be sure that Dylann brings the car back," I laughed.
"Don't be silly, I'm not worried, what with you here with your car. It's a lot nicer than mine," replied Melanie.
Melanie and Bailey were striking, with those pale-green eyes. There was a clap of thunder and a flash somewhere outside, and the lights flickered and died.
"Great," complained Bailey. The rain was coming down in sheets now, and making a racket on the tin roof. We could barely hear each other talk.
"You can still listen to the radio," said Melanie. "You have batteries, and your headphones." Bailey trudged upstairs, like a typical teenager.
"Be good," smirked Dylann, and gave me a brief kiss.
"Of course I will," I replied, and she dashed out to Melanie's car, a jacket flapping over her head.
Melanie lit several candles, and showed me around the house. There was a kitchen, a small bedroom leading to an old wooden deck, and a small living room that she used for her business. We got to know each other a little better, and I looked out the windows at her overgrown yard. Maybe I could clean it up a bit to pay her back. Melanie closed the windows and showed me her antique barber's chair that she used for her home beauty appointments.
"This is spectacular," I marveled. It was a beautiful chair. "Do you ever do men's haircuts? Shaves and that sort of thing?"
"Not very often," she smiled. "Do you need one?"
"I don't know," I replied. "Do I?"
Melanie tilted her head to one side and stroked my cheek and chin with her hand. "You could use one. Hop up into the chair." She moved several candles closer.
I sat in the chair, and Melanie tied a towel around my neck and lowered my head to the sink. She brought in a bucket of water from outside, and filled a pan. She shampooed my hair, and quickly toweled it dry. I closed my eyes while she clipped a tiny bit off my light blonde hair.
"If my clippers worked, I'd shape your cut a little more," she said. "Maybe later. Put your head back." I'd never had anyone shave me before, and it felt great. The thick lather, applied with a brush, the straight edge razor, and the hot towel. It was pretty heavenly. She did a great job.
"Baby, why don't you take your radio upstairs," ordered Melanie, and Bailey rolled her eyes and trudged up the stairs. I felt Melanie lean forward.
Then I heard Melanie put something on her hands and she gave me a scalp massage, which turned into a face massage as well.
"Do you shave your body, sweetheart?"
"Yes. I don't have much body hair, though."
"I see that," smiled Melanie. "Go ahead and take off your shirt anyway." I pulled my t-shirt over my head, and dropped it next to the chair. Melanie was expressionless as she smeared shaving cream on my chest with her hand and shaved me with an old-fashioned safety razor. She was very careful and thorough, and ran her hand slowly over my chest to check her work.
"Your armpits?"
"I did those the other night," I grinned at her, and lifted my elbow to show her. Melanie smiled, and checked with her own hand, then wiped the extra lather from my chest with a small towel. She ran her fingertips over my abs.
"No hair there," she said, dreamily. My arms had a little light stubble on them, so she lathered them up and shaved them. This was luxury! It felt great, and I was getting a little mini-massage in the process and Melanie fondled me and checked her work.
"Okay!" she said, more crisply. "How about your pubic hair?" I lifted my eyebrows at her.
"Your cock and balls," she said. "Do you keep those smooth?"
I curled my lip at her. "Not... yet." This sounded interesting!
"Take your shorts off," she ordered, reaching for the lather cup. I slid down my old cargo shorts, and dropped them on top of my shirt. Melanie knelt down in front of me, and lathered the base of my cock with her shaving brush. My penis grew a little larger, and swayed towards her face.
"That's just a bit distracting, sweetheart," she giggled. She shaved my cock, leaving it completely smooth and baby bare..
