12 comments/ 79972 views/ 10 favorites Cut and BJ By: Xamphos Dear readers I have been away for sometime, but I have continued to read the stories online. Some really good contributions. Congratulations to those who have attracted my vote or comment. Hope you enjoy my latest imaginary friend. This is a work of pure fiction, and is not intended to bear any relation to anyone either alive or dead. If you don't like whores don't read anymore. If you don't like wives who stray same again. If you don't like long stories go watch a movie. If you like reading about sex with a mature woman with an ample figure come and meet Andrea, my very attractive fantasy. Andrea was a mobile hairdresser. She had been cutting hair for almost 30 years. Starting in a salon, she became independant as her kids grew up and her husband's career improved. With the family grown, her income paid for the luxuries in life. The holidays away, her car, and the bigger items around the house. So when her daugther announced she was planning on marrying her long term boyfriend, Andrea as mum automatically said it would not be a problem for her to finance the wedding and the honeymoon, as a present to start them off in their new life. Andrea knew that the two lovers had been saving towards a new home, and she felt that by paying for the wedding it would give the youngsters a better chance in their new life together. Her husband Peter whilst supporting her in the gesture was concerned about how much she had offered to contribute. whilst they were comfortable, it would be a large amount of money to find and at this time he could not contribute any extra. His company had frozen staff salaries so whilst they were not poor there was not any slack within their budget. For Andrea this was not a problem she already had some money put by and on her estimates with 12 months to save she would be able to fulfill her promise. This was all true until her car unexpectedly expired with a major mechanical failure. It would be a lot to fix and even more to replace. Andrea's car was her livelihood and with it off the road she could not earn money. She took the aggressive decision to buy another second hand car, newer, a better model. But that emptied her savings. She took a long cool look at her position and started by extending her hours to accept more appointments. Peter reluctantly accepted her position, he saw little of his wife as it was and now she was permanently tired. . It was after all for a few months and hopefully things would improve after the wedding. He was already noticing the decline in his sex life and looked forward to a special celebration after the wedding. It was not just his daughter who was going to be well laid on that night. Andrea's daughter Michelle did offer to amend her wedding plans and her boyfriend Alex suggested a change to their foreign honeymoon plans but that had already been paid for at a very special no cancellation rate. Andrea was adamant. She had made the commitment, the promise, she would not let her family down. She did not want them to start with disillusionment or unfulfilled promises. Andrea would achieve her goal. Peter despite his talk of no slack did find some extra budget and added an extra £100 a month into the budget. He did also talk of cutting out his golf, but as Andrea pointed out, that was as much business as pleasure. He needed to maintain his contacts, no she would resolve this. Peter was relieved, the thought of being at home and not getting any sex either had been worrying him. But the grateful peck on the cheek was a little less than he had hoped for as a thank you. Andrea was detailing all this to one of her regular clients Rose, whilst she waited for the colour on Rose's hair to set. 'I am running out of time Rose. I am also feeling very tired. I am starting to consider Sunday appointments. I don't know what to do. I have nine months left and only the Honeymoon and the dress are completely paid for. I have paid the deposits on the venue and the catering but there is still so much more to find.' Rose her hair cooking under the blue plastic bag, studied the features of the 48 year old woman who had cut and dyed her hair for the last 10 years. She was pretty with a rounded cherubic face, soft thick blond hair which ended just above her shoulders. She always spoke with a lively animated action that made her hair swish when she was excited or happy. She wore very little makeup, but she did have a soft pink lip gloss which matched her manicured nails. When you work as a beautician you have to look good. Beneath the apron protecting her clothes from the dyes, Andrea wore a round neck loose fitting jumper and a pair of plain black trousers which fitted snugly onto her broad hips. Andrea had what the English would describe as a classic Pear shape. She had a modest 36C bust, plenty to keep her husband happy, but then she swelled out at the hips, and she had a more Afro Carribbean look about her with a broad round, firm ass, the kind you could bounce coins off. Beneath her hips, her legs were long and curved into a graceful taper. Whilst Andrea had often complained about the size of her ass and was constantly on a diet to shrink it, for many male eyes this was one of her best features as Rose knew from personal experience. Often if he was at home, her husband Harry, would take the opporunity to have his hair trimmed by Andrea, just so he could watch her tight butt filling out her trousers. He would take delight in having her thighs pressed closed to him inches from his face, the visible outline of her bikini panties showing through her trousers and the round swell of her abdomen giving the vaguest hint of a camel toe as her trousers gripped her thighs and crotch. Rose always liked it when Harry had had his haircut, he was often quite appreciative of her afterward, though he was under orders not to mess up her hair. Andrea, decided it was time to complete Rose's hair cut, washing out the remaining dye and then wet cutting the hair before drying it. Rose considered the conservative family woman and wondered if she would be interested in the proposition she was about to offer her. 'Andrea. You and I have known each other for a number of years. I have a thought that may help you. A temporary solution to your money problems. Please don't say anything straight away. Please don't be offended. It is just an idea. Well this may sound a bit drastic. But it could solve your problem. Have you ever thought of perhaps offering a little extra service?' Rose's cheeks flushed. She just hoped this would not end in an argument or her loosing her hairdresser. They were so difficult to find. The ones you could welcome into your home, the ones you knew would not not wreck your hair, or leave your looking green or scalped. Rose waited for Andrea's reaction. 'Well I don't know Rose. I can do manicures, and I used to do some wedding makeup. But I don't have that stuff now. A lot of things require spending more money and I don't have the time to make it back.' Rose closed her eyes. Was Andrea so innocent and naive or was she deliberately not understanding the question. Rose considered how to say the next thing without it sounding well horrible. Rose licked her upper lip and sucked in her tummy taking a deep breath, to contain the butterflies. 'Have you ever considered perhaps offering massage. For say your male customers.' Andrea was just teasing the last of the hairs into shape using the handle of her comb, Rose feared the hairdresser would stab her with it, but Andrea appeared still not to understand the question. Was Andrea really that dumb? 'Massage? Well no. But that takes ages, you have to train, get certificates and stuff. Why just....males.....? You mean..?' Rose watched as Andrea stepped back from her the implements of her trade hanging loose in her fingers. 'Yes relief massage. Men can get very tense. My Harry gets very tense around you. I...' 'Oh my god! Harry! Your Harry! Rose I am so sorry. I didn't realise. I didn't know. I don't. You know I don't' Now it was Andrea blushing, flustered and flushed concerned that Rose may think she had been flirting or encouraging her clients husband into improper thoughts or actions. 'Oh my. Oh god. Rose I...I..' Rose held up her hand and took hold of the hairdressers wrist pulling her towards her and removing the sharp implements from her hand in case they slipped and pierced the floor or worse still Rose. 'Andrea I know! I know! Look I am not saying you did anything wrong. I quite like the effect you have on him. I am at times very grateful for the effect you have on him. Look he would be horrified if I were telling you this. What I am saying is, he finds you very attractive. Sexy' Now Andrea begin to giggle as a nervous reaction to what Rose was saying. 'Hell Rose. He must need new glasses if he finds me sexy. Look at me. I am fat, over forty, I have two children both working. I have fat on my fat. I look like the Michelin woman. Even Peter jokes about my handles. Look at you by comparison so trim and neat. Now you are sexy. Me I am a big lump.' 'But it does not stop Peter from fucking you does it? Or using those handles you refer to, to grab you by in the throes of passion.' Rose was shocked by her own sexual reference. But she was trying desperately to communicate with Andrea while they had some time alone. Her appointment was almost over and she knew Andrea had to move on and her own children would be home soon. She just had to put the thought, the idea into Andrea's head. 'The truth is, fat or not. Let's just say voluptuous. A lot of guys love girls with curves. They fantasize about girls with your shape, your assetts and they would pay a lot. To well maybe extend that fantasy into life. I know my Harry would love to...' 'Rose what are you saying? I am a hairdresser. I earn a living. I work hard to earn a living. But I am not a prostitute. I am not so money driven that...' 'Andrea. I am not saying anything about you. Your morals. Whatever. It is just a thought. In the timescale you have it is a quick way to solve your problem. The other answer is simple. Go to a bank. Get out a loan and be in debt for your daughters wedding for the next five years and work yourself to death paying it off. No need to worry about sex. Because you will be too tired and your husband will be fucking someone else.' The two parted in silence. Rose paid for her haircut and added a tip, that Andrea reluctantly accepted. Andrea went to her next appointment. When the husband answered the door she ran straight past him, to meet her client. She hurriedly shut the door, just in case he too had a thing about her ass. It was three more days before Andrea looked at her bank balance, her appointment schedule, and the amount she still had to find. The florist quotation had arrived £4,000 she almost threw it away. What was she to do. She loved Peter. He would have been disgusted by Rose's suggestion just like she was. But the more she thought about it. The more she realised, Rose had given her the honest answer to her question. What was she to do. It was time to ring Rose again. 'Hi Rose. It's me Andrea. Is too late to apologise?' 'What for? It should be me apologising. I went too far. I never meant....you are such a decent person and...' 'Truth hurts Rose. You gave me the honest answer. Borrow it or work for it. There is only one way to earn that kind of money. But at my age. I know what you said. But do you really think anyone would pay for me? I sneaked a look on the internet. It seems like it is all pretty young things almost school girls. Younger than my daughter.' 'You were looking in the wrong places. A lot of guys feel threatened by these skinny kids. They want someone, soft, sexy, who will be a little naughty. Forbidden fruit. The woman from the office, at the checkout, the neighbours wife, the pretty hairdresser whose body is inches from theirs.' There was a long pause on the phone. 'Rose how do you know all of this?' 'You used to have a teenage boy? Did you not ever read through the porn mags he used to smuggle into his bedroom. Very revealing. You find the readers's wives section very easily. It is the most thumbed part. It is also the part you least want to touch. Not unless you particularly have a fetish for your son's or his pals dried sperm.' 'Yuck Rose. You do have a way with words don't you. Look what you said about Harry. Is that true? Aren't you well uncomfortable with, knowing he has these fantasies about me. You should be jealous, finding another hairdresser.' 'Men are men. Unless you want to turn gay you are stuck with them and all their weaknesses. Overall it is not too bad a deal. Do you want to talk about this?' 'I need someone to talk to. Would you mind?' 'I started this so I guess, I had better say yes. I will find some of the less stained magazines for you to look at. Then you will perhaps understand something of my reasoning.' Andrea and Rose met in the morning two days later. Both were apprehensive, both a little excited. After two hours of talking Rose looked at her watch. 'You are loosing time here Andrea. You had best go away and make your decision.' 'I think it is made. I don't know how I am going to do it. How it is going to work. But I need the extra money. I just need to figure out how. I mean it is not the sort of thing you can advertise without my husband finding out. I don't want Peter knowing. I have never cheated on him. After the wedding I will never do this again. But..What do they say pride before a fall. I just don't know where to start.' Rose reached across for Andrea's hand. 'Start with Harry. I haven't bought him a birthday present yet. You will guarantee I can do anything I like with him for the next 12 months. He will be permanently in my debt.' 'Harry? Your Harry? I...I.. When? What do I have to do? How?' Rose smiled. 'I'll work that out. I'll also sort out your appointments. Leave it to me. My mother said when I grow up I will be a proper little madam. Well guess I have grown up and I am going to be a madam. Your Madam. Now shift that shapely ass and get to work. I will phone you tonight when everything is arranged.' With butterflies in both their stomachs the two women parted company and set to work on their individual projects. Andrea could barely concentrate all day and she jumped up like a startled rabbit when her mobile phone finally rang that evening. 'Everything is organised. You have an appointment with Harry this Friday evening. My son is stopping over with a friend. You also have appointments arranged for all of next week. I took the liberty of planning your schedule. The last appointment of each evening will be 'a special'' Rose emphasised special over the phone 'The gentlemen know what to expect nothing too kinky. Ah I forgot to ask, you do suck cock don't you only...' 'ROSE! What? Look it is not something I regularly do. More special occasions' Rose at the other end of the line went quiet as she heard the sound of Peter's voice in the background questioning Andrea. 'Everything alright darling? Who is that' 'Rose, you know Rose lives out at Holly Bush.' 'Yes nice lady, teenage son. We met her and her husband in the supermarket six months ago. The son, Andrew? Plays cricket just moved up from the junior team to the seniors. What's the problem?' 'No problem.' said Andrea just picturing herself with Peter meeting Harry after she had sucked his dick. Oh god could she really do this. Could she go anywhere again without people looking at her knowing, what she did for her daughters wedding. Maybe this was a bad idea. 'Andrea? Andrea are you still on the line? Don't hang up. You are not having second thoughts?' 'Rose I might have to come back to you on this one. I will have to consider if I can help with what you want.' Peter looked across at Andrea, 'Whatever it is I am sure you can do it. Don't turn away customers at this time you have a bloody wedding to pay for.' Andrea at this point wanted to throw the phone at Peter or the wall, or maybe just beat Peter with it for making her so angry. 'Fuck him. Okay Rose, I will do it. But well I have just not..' 'Done it with anyone other than your husband. Special treat is it? Well it is a special treat for these guys too which is why they are paying. One other thing. You need to dispense with your normal clothes bring something sexy you can change into. Maybe some new underwear, a little bit silky, satin, a push up bra to show off your breasts, and some pretty panties, I don't think a thong is quite you. All guys love black or red lingerie, but you could try blue or pink to go with you lip gloss. A short skirt, and maybe some hold up stockings and wear a top that is low cut in a vee or with buttons so you show some cleavage. Oh yes heels. Some real fuck me shoes.' 'Oh Rose. That sounds terrible, disgusting. I just cannot put into words.' 'How does sleazy and slutty sound? I know it is going to make you look like a whore, but for a short time only that is what you will be. Look I know you are apprehensive. I would be if it was me. ' 'If it was you? You sounded so confident. I thought that...' 'I am or have been. No this is new ground for both of us and I am not offended by your thinking. It is exciting though. It is one of those things you wonder what would it be like. I wondered what it would be like to have Harry fuck another woman. I won't frighten you by being there. What happens is between the two of you. I have also told him I will personally cut off his balls if he tells anyone else or tries anything on with you without my knowing. I have told him you are doing this as a one off. That after the wedding it will not happen again. But this is a special treat.' Andrea suddenly found herself shaking. She wanted to go away and hide. The clothes, she had a short skirt, yes she had some sexy lingerie, but those were for Peter. She would buy a set of clothes, some changes of underwear, that she could burn and never see again. There was one other thing troubling her immediately. 'Rose? I understand the Harry thing. But the others? Organising my appointments for me?' 'I guess it is my inner bitch. Sure I want to help you. But there is something particularly what is the word sadistic? In organising your appointments. It has given me an especial thrill. I owe you a lot for this chance to should I say take liberties.' 'Liberties? What kind of liberties? Rose!' Andrea hissed realising this conversation may at any time be interrupted by Peter. 'No one is going to hurt you or your marriage Andrea. Well not intentionally. It is the rule of the appointments. You are the forbidden fruit anyone who cheats or tries to break away from this arrangement will have me to deal with. If you are like me, this whole project has made me very wet and Harry is going to have to reward me tonight if he is to get his Friday treat. Ciao!' The line went dead. Andrea wrapped her arms around herself. What had she done? What was she going to do? Maybe, just maybe she would win the lottery, someone would just give her the money. Her face was glowing, she felt ashamed already. She thought of the clothes she had to find. How much would she earn from Harry? Would it even cover the cost of paying for her slut outfit? She could be worse off and be shamed for ever. She had till Friday to find a way out of this. She suddenly thought of Rose's words. Did she really want to know the intimate details of Rose's experience. Did she need to know that Rose was in a state of arousal. She shivered again then she felt the tingle in her tummy. She realised her nipples had grown taut, slowly she realised she too was aroused. How could she be this was the most obscene thing she could be doing. She remembered the embarrassment when Alex her future son had commented on some old photos on the fridge door of her in a bikini, when she still had a figure. She remembered him saying how pretty she looked. Her face glowed, she did like to be noticed. She did like to be wanted to be the centre of attention. Her pussy tingled her labia lips parted as she began to lubricate imagining Harry's erection. Oh god how big would it be? How thick would it be? Would she gag when she had to take it in her mouth. The picture came into her head of her bent over Harry's cock and Alex saying how sexy she looked. How pretty she was, how like her Michelle was, Andrea was close to tears, could she really do this? Her pussy fluttered again, her pants grew damp and she felt excited and ashamed. She got out of her chair and went to find her husband. She wanted to hold him, hug him, kiss him, and maybe, just maybe, suck his cock. Cut and BJ Rose came to the door on the Friday evening looking radiant. Just a few years younger than Andrea, at 42, Rose's hair shone beneath the light the red tinge of the chestnut colour Andrea had applied the previous week, her hair was sparkling just like the woman's eyes. She was buzzing with adrenalin. She hugged her tense guest closing the door behind her. 'You look like you need a drink girl.' 'I would love one but I have to drive home after this. Oh god Rose. The last thing I feel tonight is sexy. I am as tense a drum. I think Harry would be better off fucking you. You look really lovely.' 'Well thank you' Rose spun on the high heels of her red shoes, she was wearing a soft satin robe in brown and red, tied with a red sash at her waist. Andrea caught a brief glimpse of the top the black hold up stockings Rose was wearing. Rose was much thinner than Andrea, an English size 10 with a tiny ass and 34b tits. Her legs were slender and her frame petite the total opposite to Andrea. 'Don't worry, after he has rested, Harry will be telling me all the things he did with you whilst licking my pussy, and then sinking his cock into my....' 'Oh Rose! Too much information. I am shitting myself here. I am really not sure if I can do this and now you tell me, I am a fucking sex toy preliminary so your husband can get off on you! I am not a piece of meat. I am not a piece of meat. I am not....' Rose slapped Andrea across the cheek not hard just enough to shock her. 'You are hyper ventilating.' Rose held Andrea close to her. Andrea relaxed against the warm softness of Rose's lean body. She could feel the firm bones of a corset under the thin fabric of the robe. She just so wanted to be out of this house. She began to wonder if all the lives of her clients were like this. Charged with all this repressed sexuality. Andrea's face was stinging from the slap. 'You do want this money don't you Andrea? You don't want to go back on your promise now. Harry is so looking forward to this. He does not believe I have arranged it for him. God he has been like a little puppy dog all day. He was practically drooling tonight when he came home Now he is so ready. He was not allowed to touch me or kiss me when he came in. I have put him in the kitchen . Sorry one of my rules. He is not allowed to fuck you in our bed. If things go wrong I don't want may son to find anything you may accidentally leave behind so you are changing in the spare room. The lounge. Well the lounge you shouldn't know about in your sensitive mood but that is going to be my play area when you have gone. Now no talk of shitting yourself not erotic. Think sexy. Have you got all the clothes in your bag?' 'Yes' Andrea lifted her holdall. 'Good go and get changed and I will check your makeup when you are dressed. Harry really is looking forward to this. He thinks you have the most amazing ass. So go and get ready.' 'Um. Rose. We never mentioned this. It was very foolish of me but it does kind of help me work things out. How much is Harry paying for this?' 'I have given him some money. How much you have to work out between you. What do you figure your body is worth. Say nothing, you get nothing. Say cheap you will get cheap and he will probably treat you cheap. He has plenty to reward you with for a good service. Should easily cover your expenses for the outfit. That is the idea isn't it? Not just getting laid, but getting paid enough for your daughters wedding. Now get moving the clock is running and I am sure your husband will start worrying about you.' Start worrying about me. Andrea thought as she started to peel off her clothes in the spare bedroom. She carefully spread her work clothes out on the bed in the spare room. She removed the simple white cotton lingerie she normally wore. She looked in the mirror at he naked body. What is this worth? She still had the pale shadow of the tan lines from her last holiday in the sun. She had worn a one piece swim suit so there were expanses of white on body with shading of brown on the top of her cleavage and on her shoulders where her straps had been. She felt happier when she looked at her legs. The swimsuit had been cut high so the full length of her thighs were tanned. She held her tummy in pulling in the excess that overhung her pubic triangle. She had trimmed her mound, leaving a dark even vee mat of hair that pointed towards the hood covering her clit. She pressed her legs together and felt the tingle in her belly as her vagina began to trickle a little damp. She was excited and nervous at the same time. She pulled at her nipples. They sprang to attention at her touch. She sat in front of the mirror and brushed her hair before applying some spray to hold it in place. She applied fresh lip gloss and added some eye shadow. Her lips glistened in the light. Her husband had not worried about her, when she got on her knees and unzipped his trousers. Peter was not the least concerned as he fucked her mouth, causing her to gag. She looked in the mirror and remembered how wet her lips were with his cum. He had been surprised, taken her gift and then left her wanting to cum. The dirty selfish bastard. So that is what it would feel to be a whore to be used. Well at least Harry was paying her. Paying her lots, paying her the full price for the use of her full body. Andrea reached into the holdall and removed her slut clothes. She pulled on a pair of pink satin short briefs. She smoothed them over her ample buttocks, adjusted the crotch looking at how close they fitted into her pussy. They felt so soft and she became lost in the reverie of stroking herself through the lingerie. She felt little tremors inside of her body. The jolts brought her back to the job in hand. She eased her breasts into the pink satin cups of her strapless bra. The cups were cut low to show off, the curves of her breasts, whilst the contour of her nipple pressed against the satin pushing the cups out making them jut forward. She arranged her bosom, pleased with the effect. Next she slipped on a pair of pink hold up stockings sliding them up her legs slowly enjoying the thrill as her fingers reached to the limit of her thigh. She added a short black wrap around skirt that fastened at the front and then a fitted white blouse. She had bought it tight to focus the attention on to her bust. She buttoned the front at the middle just to the point where her bra was showing. Because of the swell of her hips she left the midriff unbuttoned her pale tummy and navel pushing forward. She was less happy with that, but she felt it matched the slut image she had to project. Last were the black heeled shoes. She had no time to get used to them and she wobbled as she balanced, on the heels. She walked slowly around the bedroom, trying to look sexy rather than clumsy. Rose knocked on the door. 'Are you ready yet?' 'Yes come in.' Rose entered the room, and smiled. 'I think Harry will be very pleased with his birthday present. Hairdresser to whore. Absolutely perfect.' Andrea was not certain if that would be her verdict. She felt incredibly sexy, the way the underwear hugged her as she moved was exciting, what was making her unhappy was the thought that she was dressed like this for someone who was almost a stranger. Even more unsettling was the gleam in Rose's eyes, she was almost devouring Andrea, as she walked around her. Rose adjusted the collar of Andrea's blouse, rearranged the opening at the front, the back of her hand touching the top of Andrea's bust. Andrea shivered at the feel of the woman's hand. Rose looked at Andrea's hands. 'Do you really want these on darling?' Rose indicated Andrea's rings. Andrea looked at the wedding band and her engagement ring. Rose was right. Andrea needed to suspend her vows, become detached from the woman who was a wife and mother just for a short time she would be a slut. Rose helped her ease the rings off, and the pair headed off down the stairs. Harry sat waiting on a high backed chair in the kitchenhe was bare to the waist his body firm, a little soft at the middle. His back and chest were a little hairy. Not a bad thing Andrea thought. She did not like men who were hairless, too much like boys. Andrea despite never ever having actually strayed before, always had fantasies, and in them her men were men not pretty boys. Like Andrea Harry was trembling with anticipation his own nipples were taut upon his chest. He could not believe it when Rose said she had a surprise for him, his heart leaped into his mouth, when Andrea entered the room in her short tight fitting outfit. She teetered on her heels, but walked slowly carrying her hairdressing pack. Harry had been told he was to have a very special haircut. How special was between him and Andrea, but Rose would be waiting for him when the appointment was finished and she made it plain, Andrea was only the first part of the evening and he would be expected to thank Rose properly for his present. Andrea heard Rose close the door behind her. It was just Harry and Andrea alone in the room. She tried to focus on the normal part of the evening. The part she knew about cutting Harry's hair. She laid her pack of scissors combs and razors on the work surface. She waited before turning to face Harry. She guessed he would be studying the back of her legs, her calves tautened by the stretch of the heels, she feel her ass filling her pants pushing against her skirt. She turned slowly, Harry's eyes were staring wide open just taking in her figure. She looked down at his hands he was nervously ringing his fingers, his palms attempting to conceal the bulge in his trousers. Andrea was grateful it looked pretty much like Peter's she was apprehensive that it could have been huge. Neither of them spoke. Andrea licked her lips, her throat feeling dry. 'So er Harry. Harry what would you like today.' There was an awkward silence as Harry tried to phrase his reply. 'Shall we start with a haircut?' Andrea said nervously fumbling with her scissors. Andrea stepped forward, and stood behind Harry. She placed her hands on his shoulders, straightened his head and began to cut Harry's hair. The air was thick and heavy with anticipation, each waiting for the other to suggest what else could be on offer for Harry. Andrea moved to the side of Harry, her satin skirt brushing his shoulders. 'You look very nice tonight Andrea. Very....Very pretty.' Andrea paused. 'Thank you Harry. Rose suggested you might like this.' Andrea paused and wondered if the use of Harry's wife name was the right thing. Had she just lost out on the money. The silence hung in the air, her heart pounding. Andrea brushed against Harry's leg. She was almost in front of him. Harry's hand nervously slid from his lap and brushed her thigh. She stiffened to his touch. He dropped his hand to his side. 'Sorry!' he said. ' I don't, you know I have never.' 'Neither have I Harry. We are learning together. You can put your hand back. You just startled me that is all.' 'Thanks. Thanks. I just didn't.... Er I have been thinking about this. About you for days. I have fantasised about your body, never quite this close. Never quite like this. When Rose said she had a surprise. Well we share fantasies when we. When we make love and your ass. Well not just your ass but...' 'Its Okay Harry. It is strange though knowing someone has been watching me, fantasising about me in that way. Was there ever anything in what I did.' Andrea kept cutting Harry's hair it helped her focus as she came to terms with being a sex object. A fantasy. Harry's hand tentatively stroked the back of Andrea's leg, sliding up her thigh towards the hem of her short skirt reaching up till his fingers touched her bare thigh at the top of her stockings. Andrea paused. A strangers hand was on her naked thigh. It was so close to the heat radiating from inside her panties. Goose bumps raised on her flesh and she felt her nipples pressing against the soft lining of her bra. She focussed on cutting Harry's hair as he fumbled for more words. 'I don't you know, go around thinking about all my wife's friends or anything. I am not a pervert or anything. It has always been a game for us. You were...are so different. Imagining you like this. Well I am very excited. I can hardly control my hands.' Harry's hands had reached the edge of her panties. She could feel him tracing the edges of the elastic, moving from her leg up to the waistband, and then across to her back. His fingers mapping every contour of her satin clad buttocks. Andrea was trembling as she neared the completion of Harry's haircut. She did not know what to say next. Would this be it? Would it be over? Harry stroking her ass while she cut his hair. No. She knew there was more and there was also the question of the money. What would she say? How do you start selling your body? Harry in his nervousness and excitement answered her question. 'I....we have never done anything like this before. Rose left an envelope on the side. I hope it is enough, because I would like to well...touch you some more and......' Harry struggled to find the right words but finally just spurted out what he was thinking, what he truly wanted. 'I want to Fuck you Andrea. I want to see you naked, while I fuck you.' Andrea blushed. Then looked at Harry's face, he was partially shocked by his own admission. His hand began to descend down her leg. She could see he had been too blunt. In contrast Andrea felt excited. Yes Peter had at times of passion had said he wanted to fuck her. But when Harry had said it, it was like the sharp thump of a drum. She wanted him to say it again. Andrea leaned forward, briefly his face was filled with the sight of her bosom, then her pink glossed lips touch his cheek and brushed his lips. 'What do you want to do Harry? Don't be afraid Harry. Tell me again.' 'Touch you.' Harry's fingers crept back up to her panties. 'Fuck you.' 'Again Harry' 'Fuck you.' Andrea's hips moved to the words. 'Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.' eventually Harry's hand touched the front of her panties, his fingers stroked the outline of her pubic mound. 'You are sweet Harry. Thank you. You can touch where ever you like. You can also see what ever you like too. Let me look at the envelope Rose left and put it away with my hairdressing kit. I think your hair is done.' Andrea slowly eased away from Harry's fingers, she collected her pack of hairdressing equipment and walked to the work surface where Rose had left the envelope. It was a fat envelope. Andrea looked inside, she began to count the money, she soon reached the amount she had paid for the outfit, there was at least £300 left. Andrea's cheeks glowed. Was it really this easy? Would everyone be this generous? What was too cheap? What was too high? 'Is that ....Is that enough, I mean you know to....' Andrea bent forward resting her weight onto the work surface, she waggled her bottom at the seated Harry. 'I am waiting for you Harry, start where ever you like.' Harry leapt to his feet, his erection pushing the front of his trousers out, a damp patch already forming around the head of his penis. Andrea sucked her lower lip over her teeth and tensed herself expecting a sudden passionate assault. Instead Harry halted at her side, his hand softly stroking the round of her bottom through the fabric of her skirt. He leant over her, the heat of his cock pressing against her thighs, his fingers slipped to her hair brushing it away from her face. His lips touched her cheek, then her neck, before closing over the lobe of her ear. He pulled Andrea onto him, easing her to a standing position as he licked and sucked her ear. His free hand, stroked her bare midriff, unbuttoning the front of her blouse. He cradled her breast squeezing it through her bra. Slowly she turned to face him. Harry broke away from nibbling Andrea's ear and clamped his mouth over hers. The sudden lunge, the pressure of his tongue forcing her lips apart, left Andrea struggling for breath. She could not remember when she had been kissed like this. Her skin prickled with the heat of her excitement, each stroke of his hand, each light touch of his fingers carressing her body sent little jolts of pleasure to her core. Stripping Andrea of her blouse Harry's face descended from her lips to her neck, her bare shoulders, to the magnified swell of her uplifted breasts. Andrea's head fell back as she surrendered to his kisses. Harry was soon bent at the waist, his hands exploring Andrea's panties beneath her skirt as his lips charted the swell and deep cleavage of her breasts. His tongue explored the soft satin edge of her bra, as he slowly nuzzled at her breast till he could expose her taut, pert nipples. Andrea was helpless. She could not believe this quiet man who had said so little when she had cut his hair over the years could hide such an overpowering lust for her mature body. As he teased her breasts, fully exposing them to his lips, his teeth, Andrea found herself comparing her body to the petite form of Harry's wife Rose. By contrast she was slender, with a balanced figure her tummy still flat she appeared almost unchanged from her years as a wife and mother, whilst Andrea's form had spread expanded on her frame. The tits that Harry, was nibbling licking the underside of, making Andrea shudder were the only part of her that had not grown. But her hips and bottom pressed against the work surface by the pressure of Harry's advances had broadened and gain flesh throughout the years how could this man be so excited, be so hungry for her round supple flesh. Andrea yelped as Harry bit into the soft breast flesh. 'Gently Harry.' she gasped stroking and rearranging the work she had just completed on his hair. 'No marks, no bruises.' Harry released her breast his hand untying the sash that held her skirt in place. 'Sorry. I just can't believe you are here. That I have you. You are so fucking amazing. I want to eat you all up. Your husband is such a lucky man.' The mention of Andrea's husband, diminished the power of the heat burning within her. She suddenly thought of Peter, her vows, what she was doing. She was going to have another man inside of her. He was going to put his straining cock into her. She began to push Harry away, could she really let him fuck her. The wraparound skirt fell to the ground. Harry's hands were at her waist, stroking the band of her panties, his palm rested on her abdomen following the curved dome as fell towards her very wet pussy. ' Harry. If you want me. Don't talk of the outside, of your wife, my husband. Talk about us, my body, your body. Let me kiss you. Feel you, touch you.' Andrea had a plan, to ease her guilt. If she could manipulate Harry's cock with her hands, her mouth, make him cum, without entering her. That would not be so bad would it? Harry was still lost in the pleasure of Andrea's body, the curve the swell, of her thighs and her gorgeous round bottom. He slipped to his knees, his tongue flicked around Andrea's navel, as his hands gripped her panty clad ass. He buried his face into the front of Andrea's panties, she could feel his hot breath, against her pubic mound. His lips touched her naked thighs, his hands slipped under the satin of her panties and Andrea had to grip the worktop for support as his fingers, firstly touched her buttocks then found the sensitive waiting flesh of her parted labia lips. He ran his fingers over her slit making them slick with her dribbling juices, then he eased his fingers into her pussy. Andrea's head fell back and she gasped with pleasure. She could not believe how good it was to have this stranger's fingers inside of her, how thrilling it was to feel his lips charting each curve of her lower body. She felt him manipulating her body, making her turn away from his till her big ripe, taut pink panty clad buttocks were in front of his face filling his vision. His fingers were still inside her pussy, as his free hand pulled up the leg of her briefs exposing her left buttock. He kissed the flesh, his teeth nibbled at the crease where he buttock rose from her thigh. He began to push deeper into her pussy, as he reached up for the middle of her waist band and slowly pulled her panties down over hips. His tongue burrowed into the exposed cleavage of her ass. He pulled her against his face by pressing against her clit. Cut and BJ Andrea's body was covered in goose flesh, as Harry's probing fingers and tongue started to make her convulse with pleasure. She felt him rise, his fingers fucking deep into her pussy, his thumb circling her clit, as his palm pressed against the flat mat of her pubic hair. His tongue ran along the slit of her ass, till he reached the small of her back. He then traced the line of her spine with his tongue till he was standing bent over her, his erection pressing against her buttocks. 'Cum for me.' he whispered into her ear. 'Cover my fingers, my hands, with your juices. Show me how much you are enjoying this Whore.' The word stung, whore, but at the same time it eased the guilt and shame bubbling beneath her conscience. Harry had expressed what she was at this moment. A whore, a slut for money, an object of fantasy and pleasure. His hands were so good. His lips were so exciting. Harry reached up and grabbed her aching breast, as he ground his cock against her ass, his fingers driving faster and harder into her pussy. He pulled and pinched her erect nipple, he kissed her neck, his breath was hot. As hot as the bubbling feeling deep inside of her. Suddenly she felt her body begin to convulse, she cried out.'I am cumming Harry. Your dirty whore is cumming! Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Andrea could no longer control herself. Her body tookover almost sucking Harry's hand deep into her womb. The orgasm that followed, left her skin tingling and her knees weak. She could not believe how easily Harry turned her to face him. He plunged his tongue into her open mouth, pressed his stiff cock against her dripping palpitating pussy. She could do nothing else than wrap herself around his body. Returning his urgent kisses, she stroked his solid frame, she kissed his shoulder as her fingers ran down his back, she licked his erect nipples, delighting at the response as she bit them, she could hear Harry fumbling with his trousers, the distintive rasp of a zipper and the urgent wet prodding of Harry's cock against her body, indicating he was now naked for her. She looked down at the puddle of clothes at Harry's ankles, and the glistening purple head of his cock rising from his middle. She could see it throbbing to the pulse of his heart. She reached down gripping the shaft. It was stiff, firm, Harry groaned as her fingers circled it. About the same size as Andrea's husband, a little over six inches, nothing too threatening, other than the obvious urgency for her attention. Holding Harry's shaft firmly, Andrea continued to kiss her way down his body till she was on her knees, his cock level with her face. She rolled her tongue around her mouth, hesitant could she do this? She saw Harry looking down at her. His fingers lightly stroking her hair, reaching for her breast. She stroked the shaft, ran her thumb over the glistening purple head, spreading the clear gloop of his pre cum, onto her fingers. She slipped a finger into her mouth, sucked and then slid her slips over Harry's cock. His reaction was instant she felt him stiffen, his hands urging her to take more of him. She steadied herself on his hairy muscular thighs. She worked her tongue across the head, down the shaft, she drew him deep into her mouth, she touched his balls then withdrew almost to the tip. Breathing through her nose she began to bob up and down on his cock, making loud sucking sounds, releasing his cock to let it spring free briefly before closing her lips around the shaft and drawing him back inside. Her actions got faster, she sucked and bobbed till he started to fuck her face, his hand clasped gently against the back of her head. She could feel his cock begin to expand, soon he would cum. She grasped the base of his cock and looked up at him. 'Are you going to cum for me now Harry?' 'Yes. But on your ass. I want to cum all over your beautiful big ass. Lay across the worktop again.' Harry placed his hand around the base of his cock and guided Andrea back to the worktop, he bent her over, teasing her legs apart so he could see her still gaping pussy, her legs taut still clad in pink stockings. He ran his hand over her back, down to her buttocks, edging closer all the time, slowly he stroked his cock. His fingers hooked into her hips, as he guided himself to rest the head of his cock against her pussy. 'I want to feel you cunt grip my cock. I want to feel it wanking my cock, till I am ready to cum, then i am going to shoot my cum all over your bare ass.' Andrea was hesitant this was not part of her plan, this meant he would be inside of her. His cock filling her, maybe flooding her. She did not have the time to resist, her slick pussy was no defence for his well lubricated cock. She was surprised how much it seemed to fill her, how tighly her vagina gripped his cock, how easily her body responded to his thrusts. His fingers had found her clit, he was massaging, her towards another orgasm, she felt his cock twitch inside of her. She felt it expand and grow again, he was going to cum in her. She began to panic, but then he pulled out and she was left with this horrible aching void. The hot splashes of his semen, told her his timing had been good. He seemed to cover her with jets of semen. As his fingers continued to stroke her clit, he released his cock, and his semen covered fingers slipped inside of her, his body pressed against her, spreading his seed across her naked flesh, as he ground against her. He kissed her neck, sucked her earlobe, as his hands contiinued to work on her pussy. Her second climax was more sudden, violent, and draining than the first. She slowly sank to the floor and he knelt beside her, kissing her face, her mouth, and stroking her breasts. 'You are the best present I have ever had Andrea. In my fantasy I could never have imagined, how soft and warm your body is, or how beautiful it is to touch and hold. I hope this won't be the only time we can do this.' Andrea stared back at Harry, his cock was still erect. It had been a long while since she had been pleasured in this way, that distant country called the past when she had been a young bride. The memory reminded her of why she was doing this and how this would be the only time Harry could indulge his fantasy of her. But she was not going to tell him that. Let him enjoy the moment. The door to the kitchen opened Andrea and Harry, both attempting to cover themselves. It was Rose entering. 'I take it you two have had a good time. It looks like Andrea has looked after you. I am glad to see the little pills you took are working and you have a little something left for me. Time for you to clean up and go now Andrea. The bathroom is free. Can I ask you to let yourself out, Harry has to say thank you to me now. Don't you darling.' Rose picked up Harry's strewn clothes and led him away into the lounge. Andrea suddenly felt very alone, very dirty, and ashamed. She gathered up the money, her clothes, and her hairdressing things. She showered quickly and got back into her work clothes packing away Andrea the whore into her holdall bag. It was not till she got into her car to drive home, that everything hit her, she felt very weary. She began to shake and cry, she wanted it to be over. She sat for 15 minutes before she was able to drive home. By then the flutters in her stomach had started and the memory of the thrill, the power of Harry's desire, she was ashamed, emboldened and determined to get the money for her daughter's wedding. Cut and Blow "You look very nice today." "Why, thank you," the hairdresser replied crisply. "In about fifteen minutes, if you allow me to finish, then so might you." He suppressed a grin and caught the eye of a passing assistant. Around twenty, short blonde hair, tits out to here and legs to die for. Not that he was looking. "Hi, have we met?" he flashed a smile. "Guy Pearson." The girl simpered a little, and blushed shyly. "Pleased to meet you, Mr Pearson." "You've met him, Annette," Cynthia ushered her away. "He comes once a month." "And on holidays," Guy added. "Oh, right, I just, I mean, you know, I was being polite." "Well, get back to whatever you were doing. And you, Mr Pearson," she leaned over Guy to block his view of Annette's departing rear, "should be ashamed. That girl could be your daughter." "Impossible, she has blue eyes." "It says something, I suppose, that you noticed." "And also great tits." He shook his head wistfully. "All the women in my family are flat-chested." "Are you going to behave?" "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I was just kidding. You know you've always been the one for me." He slipped a playful arm around her waist. She gave a reproving smack, and eased it off. "Behave." The harassed hairdresser tugged the neck of the wide cape that covered both customer and chair tighter, so he withdrew his arms, and settled back. He fixed on the mirror over the worktop in front, and examined her critically. "Am I the first customer that ever flirted with you?" She put a hand on his head to make him face down as she worked on the neck. "Oh, is that what you call flirting?" He kept the smile and shrugged. "When you get married, you fall out of practice." "I somehow think you've had all the practice you need." "A little more doesn't hurt." "Dream on, loverboy." She combed and snipped. Guy clasped his hands and twiddled thumbs under the folds of the cape. He looked up again to study the hairdresser in the mirror as she worked; she was really quite something. Cynthia looked much the same age as her client, and was smartly dressed in a tight dark skirt that fairly strained across her smooth rounded backside. Her short-sleeved silk blouse shimmered under halogen downlights that reflected off every shiny surface of the salon. Guy couldn't see her feet, but heels clicked on the polished tile floor. He didn't especially relish having his hair cut, yet his work required that he be well groomed at all times, and he found the ritual relaxing. It was time alone with Cynthia. He closed his eyes and thrilled to the light press of her stomach against his arm, as she leaned close. He was alive to every subtle hint of femininity - the light waft of scent; a tinkle of bracelets; the tiny suppressed exhalation of a sneeze with a near silent: "Excuse me". There was something intoxicating about her; the dark eyes, flawless skin, red lips slightly parted with teeth touched together, as she hummed to herself or frowned in concentration. At any moment, she might linger with a hand, brushing his collar, or soft brown hair might caress the nape of his neck, as she leaned to assess progress from his angle, or - what joy! - a supple breast might press against his back, and all with the object of his exquisitely restrained desire seemingly unaware. Yet, surely she must know the effect such tiny intimacies might inflict on a man sensitive enough to be receptive to them - at least one of a certain age. Oh, yes, these other young girls might have more superficial charms, gaudy and obvious, but here was a real woman: self-assured, of unaffected grace, with an acquired sensuality that came with experience of years. He followed her movements in the mirror, and observed, with razor clarity, the rise and fall of a slender chain at her neck, cast between two open buttons of her blouse, on each measured breath as she bent to her work, deftly snip-snipping. Her movements became magnified, the intensity of his focus running the details to slow motion, as he watched her fingers flow. Light glinted off the ring on her left hand. He closed his eyes again. They were in a semi-private room at the rear of the salon, with a wide open doorway through which the salon owner could keep an eye on the running of her business. From time to time they might glimpse one of the assistants in the many mirrors placed everywhere about, but they were otherwise fairly secluded. "How about a drink?" he asked. "What would you like? We have herbal tea; filter coffee; or there is bottled water there." "I mean you and me, tonight." "Uh," she reminded him with a small laugh: "Kids?" "Perhaps just a drink to begin." "I mean, who will look after the two adorable little kids that will soon be waiting at home for their mother to finish work and make dinner, and otherwise generally look after them, and the running of the house. Or are there no children to consider in your fantasy world?" "You could get a babysitter." "For my husband?" "If a husband loves his wife, he should want her to be happy." "I sometimes wonder." "How long have you been married?" "You know perfectly well. Eleven years, four months-" "-and sixteen days," he said along with her. "Just testing." "You go through this exact same routine every time you come in here." "And you always indulge me. I'm simply making sure that you are keeping score of the days you have been married to that very lucky Guy." "And I tell you every time that I have been completely in love with my husband for each one." She moved the sides of his head to face forwards again. He glanced up at her in the mirror to catch her eye, but she was absorbed with the back of his head. "All I'm asking is that you keep checking your calendar. Count the days, and really, really think about it. You can talk to me here, I will understand. Tell me anything, I'm just a customer ready to pass the time of day. But this is important: I want to know the moment you are not sure." "I have many other things to do than wait in anticipation of your next appointment." "But, if you ever change your mind...?" "As I keep telling you," she emphasized each word: "I love my husband." "Then he really is a lucky man. I bet you could have any guy that walks in here." "Have you seen our clients? No thanks." "Ah, so you're saying if a really handsome man came in, you wouldn't be interested?" "I have a handsome man right here." She put down the scissors. "What do you think?" Guy glanced out into the shop. Annette was busy sweeping the floor, and the receptionist, Sadie, sat bent over the phone. He swiftly grabbed Cynthia by the waist again, and this time pulled her towards him and kissed her full on the mouth. He might have expected her to react sharply; fight him off or shout for help, but she stayed perfectly still and let the kiss go on. She didn't respond in the slightest. He broke off, chastened. "Are you done?" She straightened up and moved away, brushing her clothes. He shook his head with an apologetic look. "Yeah, I guess. I'm sorry, I just sort of thought-" "This is a place of business." He stirred at that. "Oh, you mean you would be prepared to do this someplace else?" "I mean that while you might think you are charming and witty and devilishly debonair, if you carry on like that in here, I'm the one that would be charged with permitting sexual conduct on the premises liable to constitute harassment to my staff." "Harassment? Hey, lighten up, I only said, 'Hi'." "Oh, please. You had that girl stripped to her underwear." "I don't think she's wearing a bra." "The hands; the leers; that kiss?" "All right, I'm sorry," he looked genuinely contrite. "You're right. But it's all because of you." "Now, look-" "Hear me out, Cynthia. You should know what you do to me. I try not to think about you so much, but I can't. I think about you all the time, and this... I love this. I love being close, I love the attention. I know it's your job, but I just..." He looked at her for a long moment. "I love you." Cynthia now glanced into the shop, and seeing the girls busy, she quickly sat in Guy's lap and looped her arms around his neck. The two were squashed between the leather arms of the seat. "You really mean that?" He looked shocked as she leaned close and gazed into his eyes. He could see the lacy edge of her bra down her cleavage, smell her perfume, feel her breath, the warmth off her skin. "Why not come home with me, right now?" "Now?" he stammered. "No, heck, I can't, I--I have work." "There, I knew it." She rolled off and stood up. "You like to play games." He heaved a deep breath. "Are you saying you don't?" "No, I like to play. In fact, sometimes I love it." Before he could make another move, Cynthia lifted the hem of the cape off his legs and ducked under. Guy gasped as she nimbly unzipped his pants and reached straight for his dick. It was hard from the moment she sat on his lap. He struggled upright in his seat and squirmed over his shoulder to check that the assistants had not seen what was going on. He groaned and shut his eyes as the hairdresser's hot mouth closed around his straining erection. He moaned under his breath and grasped for the back of her head, tangling fingers through her hair and staring, wide-eyed in fascination, as the shape under the folds of the gown began to bob back and forth. She knew precisely what to do: he had never in his life had another woman so expertly find the exact spot where his dick was most sensitive, and use her hand on the shaft, pressing the base, building pressure, while cupping his balls caught under his shorts. He shuffled his hips and fumbled under the cape to release the top of his pants, as that busy tongue licked, and pressed, and probed the full length. Her mouth compressed and relaxed as she sucked, and rolled her tongue: smoothing the girth and then feathering the tip. Faint slurps sounded muffled beneath the gown as she slid tight moist lips to the head of his cock, and teased the sensitive glans as her tongue probed the slit. He felt a swelling rise from his balls held firmly in her hand, as if a hose had been switched to full pressure. His head surged on a giddy rush as he bucked his hips to alert her to the impending eruption. She was ready, with a thumb pressed underneath, and brought him so swiftly to the point of release that it exploded in an instant. He gripped her head tight, and writhed in juddering spasms, grunting through gritted teeth as he shot his full load - spurt after spurt of hot frothy liquid, showering delight into the wet tunnel of her mouth. She took every drop. He gasped, trembled, and shook, heaving for breath as he struggled not to make a sound until the last departing waves of the intense, unexpected orgasm subsided to a hush. "Is everything all right?" Sadie appeared at the door, and Guy quickly snatched up a towel and ran it over his face, doubled forwards, so that Cynthia was safely hidden on the other side of the chair, still under the cape. "Yeah, I'm sorry, I just had to cough. And, um, sneeze." "Would you like a glass of water?" He made an extravagant noise, clearing his throat. "No, no," he saw the bottle and glass on the counter in front of him. "I can manage with this." He smiled weakly, aware that his face was still flushed. "I'm fine now, really." Sadie seemed satisfied. "I thought Cyn was doing you?" The receptionist searched all around, and moved as if to come in. "Oh," Guy quickly blurted, "she is." "Is she here?" "I think she went down- I mean out." Cynthia dug her fingers into his thigh, making him yelp. "For something. She has pretty well finished me off, anyway." He felt the pinch again, and prodded the insolent body smothered beneath the cape. He glanced down, seeing the head shaking between his legs with the noiseless laughter of the shameless proprietor. Sadie gave him a strange look. "Well, Annie and I have to go. Could you tell her I won't be in until ten tomorrow morning?" "I certainly will." "Thanks, Mr Pearson, goodnight." "Yes, goodnight, Sadie." "Goodnight, Mrs Pearson," Sadie called out, as she turned and departed. Cynthia emerged from under the cape, looking a little sheepish but grinning from ear to ear. Guy stared at her for a moment, and then both burst into laughter. He pulled her towards him and kissed her again, and this time she returned the kiss, hard and strong. She eased back and hummed lightly as she ran her fingers through his hair, making slight adjustments either side. "You know, we'd better see about that babysitter," she murmured, as her husband held her tight. "I think we've a busy night to come." THE END Cut & Dried This story has been written jointly by Matriarch and EmeraldKitten. Both have put in an equal amount of time and effort, writing a section each consecutively. This story could not have been written without Kitten. It was an immense pleasure working with her, and an honour. She has a huge talent and has taught me a great deal during this time. As posting can only take place on one site, it was decided to submit on my page, but all comments and voting will be for us both. Matriach. I was sitting in the reception area of the salon, reading the newspaper, cursing the slow day. How was I supposed to make money out of invisible people? The shrill ring of the telephone cut off my thoughts. Aha! At last, some last minute person needing in to get their hair done. I practically ran to the phone, and once I answered, I frowned, realizing it was someone wanting an appointment with a different operator for the following day. Just my luck. I'd put them on hold, and walked over to Susana's book, when the bell above the front door jangled. I looked up, saw a woman had entered the salon, told her I'd be with her in a minute, and went about making the appointment. Hanging up the phone, I moved back to the front of the shop, smiling. "Hi, can I help you?" I asked, as I took in her appearance. She was older, probably somewhere between forty and fifty, with brown hair, shot with silver strands, that reached just past her shoulders. Eyes a cross between green and brown. Wearing a light blue sundress, she looked like she'd just gotten off work, or was about to go in. "Yes, I don't have an appointment, but I was wondering if there was a chance to get a hair cut? If no one has time, I understand, but I just thought I'd check." "You're in luck. It's been an awfully slow day. You're actually saving me from myself," I finished, with a laugh. Turning slightly, I said, "You can come on back." I led her from the reception area, around the corner, and back to my station. It was a cosy little nook, and I always liked being back there. It seemed so safe, and comforting in a way. She sat down in my chair, and I spun her to face the mirror. "So, what are we doing to you today?" I picked up the cape, and draped it over my arm, as I watched her explain through the mirror. Suddenly, it dawned on me that I had been staring at her, instead of listening. Mentally shaking myself, I tuned back in to her words. "If we could just take maybe an inch or so off the length, then trim up the layers, I think that should do. I don't like fooling with it much. Just a style that's quick and easy; a 'wash and go' basically." Laughing, she smiled at me through the mirror. "Ahh, I see. I think I might be able to handle that." I smiled, and ran my fingers up through her hair, breaking up the light hair spray. I was looking down at her hair, and as I stepped to the side to put the cape over her, I caught a glimpse of her cleavage. Right down the front of her dress actually. The fabric fell relatively loosely over her chest, but just snug enough to accentuate the fullness of her breasts. I caught myself staring into the neckline. Stunned, I quickly moved and flicked the cape deftly over the front of the small woman, securing the snaps in the back. I thought I felt her eyes on me, but shrugged the feeling off, until I glanced in the mirror, and my gaze collided with hers. Quickly looking away, I turned the chair around, and lifted up the top of my station. I grasped the lever, and tilted the back of the seat down, lowering her head into the bowl. Nothing was said, but I felt a flush start from my chest, and spread to my face. Cursing myself, I grabbed the hose and turned the water on, setting it on a comfortable temperature. "Is that too hot?" I asked, cringing at the way it sounded coming out of my mouth. With her eyes shut, she said, "Mmm, no, it feels good." I quickly wet her hair, and shut the water off. I put a couple pumps of shampoo in my palm and rubbed them together, and gently applied it to her hair. Once I'd worked up a lather, I began my scalp manipulations. Using the pads of my fingers to massage her head, I worked around the hairline, across the top of her head, sliding them easily through the suds, to the back of her head; gingerly I manipulated the nape of her neck, repeating the procedure a few more times. Around about the second time, it started feeling different. I'm not sure if it was just me being over imaginative, or if it was because I felt myself becoming aroused. The thought stopped me in my tracks. 'Aroused?' What in the world was I thinking! I retrieved the hose, turned the water back on, and rinsed her hair. Reaching into the cupboard, I pulled out a towel and draped it over her head. Grasping the lever, I lifted the chair back into its upright position. I combed through her hair, parted it off, and set about cutting. Feeling a little warm, I excused myself and went to turn the air down. Once I stepped up behind the chair again, I realized that this silence was killing me, and tried to start up a conversation. "So, do you live around here?" "Yep. Been here for a couple years now. It's a nice quaint little town." Laughing, I replied, "Yeah, 'quaint' isn't how I'd describe it, though." After a few moments, I spoke again. "By the way, I'm Danielle. And you are?" "Oh, I'm Rebecca." "It's nice to meet you," I paused for a split second, "Rebecca." as thought I was testing her name on my tongue. There was another lull in the conversation, but I let it sit. I focused on making sure the length was even, and holding the hair at the correct angle to get the layers in properly. I felt her gaze on me through the mirror once more, and I knew if I looked I'd meet her eyes. I didn't. I just kept cutting. I set my shears and comb down on the station, and ran my fingers through her hair; checking the length, shaking it, picking it up and letting it fall, making sure the layers looked even. Each time my fingertips grazed against her scalp, I felt like an electric charge had been sent through my fingers straight down to my toes. Maybe it was because I knew Rebecca was staring at me in the mirror, but I couldn't bring myself to look up. I glanced at my hands, and saw that they trembled slightly. Just enough to notice. I felt myself flush. I decided that the haircut was perfect. "Would you like me to blow dry it?" I asked, cringing inwardly at the husky resonance in my voice. "Yes, please. That would be great." As she spoke, I summoned the courage to look into the mirror at her. She had a small smirk on her face as if she was trying not to break out in a full smile. As I watched, her gaze flicked down from my face, and she looked over every inch of my body that was visible in the mirror. Swallowing hard, I grabbed the blow dryer and flipped it on. Thank god her hair fell into its natural part, because I wasn't sure I could've found my voice to ask which way it needed to go. The few minutes it took to dry were enough for me to find my brain and my voice again. "Does that look about right?" I asked, running my fingers through it a few more times, for no good reason. "Yep, I'd say that it's perfect." Rebecca said, smiling. "Well then, I suppose I'm done torturing you," I giggled. Unsnapping the cape I lifted it off her, careful not to get any hair on her dress. However, as I did that I again caught myself staring at her cleavage. My eyes drifted down to the expanse of leg that showed. That time I looked away quickly, folding the cape and laying it over the arm of the chair as she stood. I led her back up to the front desk, taking a few deep breaths on the way. "That'll be fifteen dollars." I told her over my shoulder, while I wrote the total on my tablet. She laid a twenty on the counter, and told me to keep the change. "Thank you very much." I looked up then and smiled, but it was lost on Rebecca. Her head was bent while she dug through her billfold. "Here. I may as well give you one of these." Smiling, she offered me a business card. I reached and took hold of it, but she didn't let go immediately. I glanced back up into her eyes and was lost in them. Neither of us moved, and my breath caught in my throat. Rebecca let go, albeit hesitantly. She smiled, said thank you again and headed for the door. Once there she turned to look at me. I was still staring after her. With a smile and a wink, she exited the salon. I glanced at the card, my mouth falling open in surprise. I glanced at the card, my mouth falling open in surprise. It was plain white, with a thin silver border. The legend consisted of just 5 words and a telephone number, also in silver. 'Rebecca Stone ~ Fun Party Consultant' ----------------------------------- For the rest of that day, my thoughts kept drifting back to Rebecca. The way she looked, the way she smelled, the sight of her cleavage, the feel of her hair; but most of all, the look on her face, in her eyes as they met mine in the mirror. And every time I remembered, the stirring, shivery arousal returned. I was confused; I'd never felt this way about a woman before. Not saying I hadn't thought about it, what it would be like to make love with a woman, but I had never been aroused by a woman; until now; it made me....uncomfortable. No. Wrong word. Not uncomfortable. Disconcerted. And excited. Yes, I had to admit, I was damn turned on by it. By her. I got through the rest of the day, dealt with the few clients that turned up, even managed not to see her face when I looked into the mirror at a client. At last the day ended. I closed up the salon and left for home. As I walked to my car, I passed women in the street, and for the first time I found myself looking at them, appraising them. I noticed that one had her hair the same as Rebecca, one was the same height, one had a similar figure. Damn, this woman had got to me. What the hell was going on? I drove home, distracted; thank heavens there wasn't too much traffic on the road. All evening, no matter what I was doing, cooking supper, watching TV, my thoughts kept drifting back to her. Finally I decided to take a shower, go to bed, sleep and get over it. As I unbuttoned my shirt and released my bra, a sudden thought of Rebecca undressing me brought a firmness to my nipples; as I removed my pants and panties that same thought brought a sudden dampness and tingling between my legs. What was wrong with me? I was as horny as hell, over a woman. I had never experienced this before; it was driving me crazy. I turned on the shower, my body tingling with need, and as I stepped under the water the touch of the spray on my skin made my nipples harder, my breasts ache. Without realising I was doing it, the fingers of one hand moved to caress my breasts, playing over my nipples, the nails dragging over them making me moan softly. My other hand slid down over my soft belly, teasing my curls, before dipping between my lips. God, I was so wet! I had to do something about this, or I wouldn't get any sleep. I relaxed and allowed my mind to take over, and suddenly she was there. Rebecca. Standing in front of me, those barely glimpsed breasts pressing against mine, dragging her nipples over mine, making me moan all the more. Her lips hovered over my own, barely touching, whispering to me. "You want me Danielle, I could see it in your eyes in the salon. I could see it while you were cutting my hair, I could feel it in your hands, while you were washing my hair, and when they touched my skin. You want me. What do you want me to do?" Her lips brushed me softly, but enough to send a shock of desire right through me. "I...I...want..." I stammered, as I felt one hand replace mine on my breast and the other move down my skin to gently push my own away. Her fingers slid between my legs, caressing my lips. With a groan, I moved my legs further apart, bracing one hand on the shower wall. My mouth was dry, and as I licked over my lips, I felt her lips cover it and gently suck it into her mouth, her lips melding with mine, her tongue playing over mine. "Oh god, please...I want...you... to...fuck me!" No sooner had I said the words than I felt her fingers move and two of them slid easily into me. I was so wet, so aroused by this vision, that I could hardly believe it. Her tongue moved over mine, her lips sucked mine, her hand squeezed my breast, pulling on the nipple, and her fingers began to pump me with long, slow, deep strokes. With a groan I began to move my hips against her fingers, meeting her thrusts. The tingles began at the base of my spine, the tightness deep in my pussy. I tore my mouth from hers as a cry welled up out of me. "God... Yes... Rebecca!!" Her thumb moved to stroke my clit making me cry out again, and with a surge of my hips against her fingers, the orgasm rushed over me. Arching my back, I pressed my breast harder into her hand; my pussy clenched her fingers holding them inside me as my body shook and trembled with the power of the sensations. I leaned against the shower wall, my body shaking still, breathing heavily with my fingers still buried inside me. I was stunned at the depth of the fantasy, of the images in my head, of the tremors still rippling through my body. I had just got myself off at the thought of being fucked by a woman!! Shakily, I finished showering and dried myself off, moving slowly to my bed and climbing in. Eventually I fell asleep. It was a strange sleep, filled with visions of a small woman with dark hair shot with grey; of a pair of green eyes that smiled into mine; of a soft voice saying my name. For the rest of that week I was in a semi-daze. I used my work, which was thankfully busy, to distract me from the images and fantasies filling my head every time I stopped or rested, or slept. I was going crazy, fucking myself every night to images of her and the sound of her voice in my head. On Friday the manager called me over to ask if I would be okay to do an 'at-home' session that evening for a client who had called. It was for a woman who was going to a big party, and wanted me to do her hair at home for her after she had dressed. This was part of the service we offered, and we have a few regulars who use it. I had no plans for the evening, and I figured it would be a good distraction at the moment. I could definitely use a diversion, so I said yes. The manager gave me the address, saying that it wasn't a regular. The bill was to be made out to the woman's company, 'Entertainment Inc., ' or some such thing. All I had to do was take my own equipment as she had a room set up as a salon, complete with chair and work station. Sounded like this lady was well set up, and it might mean a generous tip. That evening, I finished up my last client, took a quick shower in the back, and changed into a clean work uniform. Picking up my equipment case, I left for the address. It was on the other side of town, easy to find, a big, classy place with a long driveway. To someone like me, who lived in a two-bedroom apartment, it looked like a mansion Parking my car, I walked to the door and pushed the bell, noticing the well-kept grounds and very pleasant surroundings. 'Nice,' I thought. 'Very nice.' A maid opened the door. I told her I was from the salon, suddenly realizing I didn't know the name of my client. The maid smiled. "Please come in, madam is expecting you." She led the way and I followed her up a wide, curving staircase, and along corridors, until she ushered me into a small, but luxurious side room. It had been set up as a dressing room, complete with washbasin, mirror and a hydraulic chair. I smiled. Impressive set up. Definitely loaded. I set my bag down on a side table, took out my equipment and put it on the empty trolley standing beside the chair. Having time in hand now, I strolled around the room, taking in the expensive drapes, carpet, pictures, and the enormous walk in closets along one side of the room. Then I noticed an open door into adjoining room. There wasn't anyone around, so I decided to take a peek. 'Wow! What a bedroom,' I thought. It was enormous, bigger than my whole sitting room and kitchen. One wall was filled with windows, hung with rich, cream and gold drapes. In another wall there was an open fireplace, set with logs, and around that two very comfortable looking armchairs, each flanked by a small side table. On one table sat an ice bucket complete with bottle of champagne, and two glasses. The most remarkable part of the room was the huge four-poster bed. Dark wood pillars, and draped with the same fabric as the curtains. I stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame taking it all in, and jumped when I heard a voice behind me. A voice I recognised instantly; it had been talking in my head day and night for the last 5 days. "Do you like what you see?" Holding my breath as I turned, I knew I would like what I would see. I would see Rebecca. I turned around slowly, dreading and anticipating the moment when I'd look into her face. "Yes, I do. Y-you've got a wonderful home." I stammered, flinching inwardly at my halting speech. "Thank you. I've worked hard." Rebecca said with a smile. My gaze flickered downwards, taking in Rebecca's appearance. She was dressed in a bathrobe of the palest blue that was almost transparent. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a clip, and she looked quite at ease. I fervently wished I looked as calm as she appeared to be. I also tried to conceal my surprise. Normally, patrons are dressed when we go to their homes. They didn't meet us in almost sheer robes! And not ones where you can make out the outline of their figure, and see the swell of their breasts along the neckline, and catch glimpses of their nipples standing proudly under the fabric, and see the colour difference! I cleared my throat, stunned at the direction my thoughts had taken. What was wrong with me? I quickly looked back to her face, and saw the smile tugging the corners of her mouth. I smiled at her, and stepped behind the chair. "Are you ready, Madame?" I said in an exaggerated accent, as I dipped into a curtsy. "But of course." Rebecca said, stepping and sitting delicately in the chair. I removed the clip from her hair, and the damp strands fell to her shoulders. Grabbing the bottle of mousse, I applied a generous amount in my hands, and began smoothing it through the small woman's tresses. She moaned at the feel of my hands on her scalp. 'Oh God!' I thought to myself. 'She can't do that! There's no moaning!' I wiped my hands off on a towel, and picked up the blow dryer, swallowing hard at the same time. Feeling a flush creep from my chest, I rolled my eyes at myself. I was acting like a teenager! A hormonal one at that; one that was aroused by the client in her chair! I flipped on the dryer and sighed. It was going to be a long evening. Little did I know Rebecca was looking at me from the corner of her eye through the mirror. I'd worn a mid-thigh black skirt, with slits on each side, black sandals, and a red button down shirt. My smock, which buttoned up, was thrown on over the top of it. I had the top two buttons undone as I always did and it would seem that Rebecca was taking her time getting to know my attire. I turned the dryer off, laid it on the counter top. Grabbing the curling iron, I used a comb to part off sections as I curled them. I'd just reached to do the side, when Rebecca spoke. "Goodness, what a lovely bracelet." Rebecca said, her fingers circling my wrist, holding it still while she inspected my diamond tennis bracelet. "T-thank you." I managed, while I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up from her touch. Cut & Dried She released me, and I quickly went back to my work. I spun the chair towards the mirror while I curled the other side. Her hands were resting on the arms of the chair, and I thought I felt something on my thigh, but I figured I'd stepped too close and brushed the arm. I felt it again, so I took a small step back, but the feeling followed me. Still curling her hair, I slid my gaze downward, and almost jerked when I realized her fingers were brushing over my thigh, under my smock. I blinked, and swallowed hard, trying to act as normal as possible. I moved to the top of Rebecca's head, curling the hair there, and gasped audibly as I felt her fingers move on my bare skin beneath the hemline of my skirt. I didn't move, didn't dare breathe. I combed another section of hair to curl, but paused before I clamped the iron over it. It was not my imagination. Rebecca had her hand under my smock, under my skirt, and her fingertips were well on their way up the inside of my thigh. I stood, motionless, waiting for the next move, but none came. In fact, I couldn't feel her fingers anymore. When I glanced down, Rebecca's hands were folded neatly in her lap. My brow furrowed, and I wondered if I'd imagined the whole thing. Shrugging to myself, I caught the section of hair in the curling iron, and went back to work, noticing how my breathing had become a little shallow. We talked some, and I realised she was flirting. It had to have been flirting. There was no way it wasn't. I was taken aback at her boldness. True, I'd been more than willing to fuck myself every night, thinking of her, but to have her actually flirting, and touching me? That was a different story. Apparently I didn't mind. I knew I was wet; because of her; in real life, not just my fantasies. I finished curling, set the iron down and grabbed my teasing comb, then went to work making her hair beautiful. I spun Rebecca towards the mirror again, and stood behind her wielding a can of hairspray. "Okay. How does that look?" Turning her head slowly from side to side, she examined it, tucking here, fluffing there. "I think that's perfect." She said, smiling again. "All right. Don't breathe." I said with a laugh, holding up the can of hairspray. Rebecca took a big exaggerated breath in, and I started spraying. She shut her eyes, and I found myself staring at her face. Her slightly upturned nose, her high cheekbones, the graceful arch of her brow, and her perfect lips. Realizing I was still spraying, and that she was still holding her breath, I set the can on the station. "Sorry. I was trying to fumigate you." I began fanning with my hands, trying to clear the hairspray. "I'd certainly say so! I've got a lovely sheen of spritz on this robe." Before I could blink, she'd stood, untied the flimsy belt, dropped the robe, and was headed for the closet. My lips parted in a silent "O", and I turned my head to watch her, my eyes following her every movement. Rebecca grabbed another robe from the closet, and slipped it over her shoulders, standing with her back to me. I felt myself flushing, along with the quiver in my knees, as she turned with the robe still open. My gaze dropped to her breasts framed by the sheer silkiness of the white material. Her nipples stood firm, the robe barely grazing them. I felt my mouth water as my eyes raked over the milky paleness of her breasts; the rosy peaks of her nipples that all but begged my lips to wrap around them. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she crossed the fabric across her chest and tied the belt in to a bow. Realizing I'd been staring, I jerked and looked up quickly, a blush covering my face. Heading towards me, Rebecca smiled gently. With swaying hips, she sauntered right up in front of me. "I've a favor to ask you Danielle." She said, in a sultry tone. Swallowing, I replied, "What would that be?" surprised by the huskiness in my voice. "I'd like for you to do my nails." "I don't have anything wi-" She cut me off. "They just need polishing, and I have that. I know that wasn't in my original request, so if you don't want to, or don't have time..." Her lips started to form a seductive pout. "I have time." I even surprised myself with my speedy agreement. Eyeing me approvingly, Rebecca headed for a chair by the fireplace. She picked up a case from the floor, flipped it open, and selected a soft shade of pink. I headed towards her, saw the bottle of polish, and knew that it was going to take a few coats for that to cover completely. 'Hmmm, not sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.' I thought to myself. Grabbing a straight back chair on my way, I set it in front of her, but more to one side. Definitely not the correct set up for this, but it would have to do. Sitting down, I crossed my legs to the side of her, keeping in mind my skirt. I cursed myself for the choice of apparel this evening. Glancing at her apparel, I almost blushed, hiding a smile, while I decided I didn't feel quite so bad. "You look warm sweetie, why don't you take off that smock? It's got to be uncomfortable." My gaze flew up to meet her eyes, and I knew it was a ploy, not a suggestion. Deciding to play along, just to see where it would go, I unbuttoned the smock, and shrugged it from my shoulders, twisting in my chair to drape it over the back. "There, you see, much better." I heard the smile in her voice. "You're absolutely right." I turned back, adjusted my shirt, and bent forward grasping one of her hands. "Would you mind holding the polish? I don't have a table close enough." I asked, holding out the small bottle. "Oh, of course." She took the polish and rested it on her thigh. Looking down at her nails, I could see they were neatly manicured, with a coat of clear polish on them already. 'So, she was prepared for this, I thought. Reaching to twist the top off the bottle, I felt the heel of my hand brushing across her thigh. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I quickly moved to begin polishing. I realized as I made the first stroke, that my hands were shaking. Cursing myself, I tried to still my trembling. It wasn't working. I released her hand and placed it on my thigh, reaching for another dip of nail polish. My brow furrowed - I was quite sure that the bottle was higher up on her thigh than it had been. "Something wrong?" She asked, noting my confused look. "Oh, no. I think I'm just imagining things." "I don't think you are......" Rebecca's hand that was resting on my thigh, moved higher. It slid down, the thumb brushing back and forth along the inside of my thigh. I gasped and froze, unable to do anything but stare into her eyes. Her hand moved as far as it could with my legs being crossed, then slid back down to my knee. My entire body was tingling. Her hand returned, and she again went as far as possible, but this time, wriggled her thumb between my legs. Rebecca allowed it to brush against my pussy, before moving it halfway down my thigh. Offering up the bottle of nail polish, I swallowed hard, and with a trembling hand, dipped the brush back into the bottle. "Dear, are you okay? I think you need to lie down." She already started to stand. My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Rebecca grasped my hands and pulled me up. Snaking one arm around my waist, she led me over to the bed. Instructing me to kick off my shoes, which. I did, she pressed me down to a sitting position. I sat there, staring up at her in shock, as she bent down and caught hold of my legs, swinging them up onto the bed. Rebecca slid her hands along my sides and onto my shoulders, exerting just enough pressure to make me lie back. "Just lay there. Let me get a cold rag. Don't move a muscle," she instructed, heading for the bathroom. I did as instructed, my breathing shallow, heart pounding. My nipples hardened, and what seemed to be wave after wave of wetness came rushing between my legs. She reappeared after a few seconds, wet washcloth in tow. "Here now. This should feel - Oh no!" Rebecca stared at my wet shirt. "I am so sorry, that was entirely too wet!" Folding the rag in half, she laid it across my forehead, and settled herself next to me. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. Reclaiming the washcloth, she gently wiped my forehead, temples, and neck. "It's... okay." I said, in a low tone. The cold water made my nipples even harder, and I got a chill as the air drifted across my damp skin. Rebecca moved the cloth from my neck to my upper chest, making my shirt even wetter. I was beyond caring. "We'd better get this shirt off of you. It's probably uncomfortable." So saying, Rebecca released the first couple of buttons, the washcloth following her progress. Undoing the next few, and finally the last, she brushed the shirt to the sides, trailing the cloth and her fingertips along the sensitive, over-warm skin of my stomach. "Feeling better yet?" Rebecca queried, moving upwards again to my face. Her forearm brushed across my breast as she did so. The movement caused my nipples to strain at the thin fabric of my bra, made even thinner from the dampness now seeping into it. Unable to speak, I stared into her eyes, and slowly moved my head from side to side. Rebecca smiled, "Let's see if we can make you really comfortable, shall we," she breathed softly at me, and reaching for my shirt, proceeded to ease if off my shoulders, wriggling it down behind me across my shoulder blades, until she had effectively trapped my arms. My heart was pounding hard now, my mouth dry, making me lick my lips. I couldn't remember the last time I had been this aroused. My nipples were as hard as rock, my pussy leaking into my panties. This woman was driving me crazy, and I knew, just knew that I wanted her to make love to me. My head was full of the images that had accompanied my activities each of the last 5 nights; her, naked; kissing me; fucking me; I wanted her so much. Rebecca stood by the bed and with her eyes locked on mine slowly undid the belt of her robe and eased it open. Flexing her shoulders she allowed it to slither softly down her body to pool at her feet, leaving her standing before me in the tiniest of white silk thongs. My eyes raked over her, head to toe, blood pulsing at the sight of her beautiful body, and with difficulty my gaze moved back up to meet hers. Flicking off her high-heeled shoes, she climbed onto the bed, beside me, leaning over me, placing one hand on the bed each side of me. Her face close to mine, her breasts hanging teasingly just above me, she dragged them over my own nipples, making me gasp softly. She chuckled softly, the only sound she'd made for a few minutes, the silence in the room almost overwhelming. Pushing herself up from the bed, she sat back on her thighs watching me, and began to softly speak. "I know you want me Danielle, I could see it in your eyes in the salon. I could see it while you were cutting my hair, I could feel it in your hands. While you were washing my hair, and when they touched my skin, I could see that you wanted me." As she spoke, one hand reached out to me dragging her nails over the roundness of one breast making me shiver and then gasp. My back arched towards her hand as she teased my skin. Through the sensations, my mind was in shock. Those were the words I had heard her speaking in my head while I fucked myself. How? How could this be? Her hand left the breast, allowing my body to slump back to the bed, until she moved to the second breast and repeated the action, the nails dragging over the tight satin of my bra. While I held my breath, my eyes locked on hers, she reached for the zipper of my skirt, and began to pull it down. Over my hips and down my thighs, past my knees and calves, and off my feet. Her eyes raked over my body, as she slowly uncovered me, pausing when she reached my pussy, the wetness, the result of her actions and my thoughts, clearly visible on the crotch of my panties. They were so wet I just knew that the outline of my swollen needy lips was clearly visible through the material. Slowly, she lowered her head until her lips were almost touching mine; I could almost taste her, and as she whispered to me, "Shall I kiss you, Danielle, would you like me to kiss you?" I felt her fingertips grazing once more over my breasts - this time, dragging the nails over my hard nipples. Gasping and moaning at the sensations shooting through my body straight into my pussy, I was unable to speak. My eyes closed, mouth opened wide in shock, as I heard her chuckle softly and speak quietly again, "I'll take that as a yes." Then I felt it. Her lips on mine for the first time. Soft. Oh god, so soft, like velvet moving over my lips, sucking each one into her mouth before releasing it, then lightly but firmly pressing her tongue between them both. At the first touch of her tongue something in me took over, and my mouth sucked hard on her tongue, drawing it deeply into me as I moaned and whimpered into her mouth. I wanted to touch her so much, but my hands, my arms were held captive by my shirt. One hand managed to lightly graze her hip, making her growl into my mouth and thrust harder with her tongue. Then I felt her move; a soft silky leg slid over my hips, the angle of her mouth changed on mine, and as I felt the weight and incredible heat of her, I realised she was now sitting astride me. Oh, it felt so good, so right to have her there. Suddenly her lips were gone from mine, her tongue wrenched away. I moaned in frustration, but it became a moan of delight as I felt her lips on my skin. I felt them on my neck, my throat, then across the top of my chest to the shivery sensitive skin just above the edge of my bra. And her hips; her hips were moving slowly against me grinding her wetness and heat into me; automatically my own hips began to move against hers. I felt her hands move under me to release the clasp of my bra, which she then simply pulled up uncovering my breasts. Without warning and with a growl low in her throat, her mouth engulfed one breast, sucking the hard nipple deep into her mouth. My head rocked back against the pillow, my back arched, as I desperately tried to force more of me into her mouth, crying and moaning in pleasure. "Oh god, Rebecca, yes, yes...." Her hands were caressing my sides, nails raking the skin, while her mouth devoured my breasts, one after the other, back and forth, driving me insane with want and need. My hips were moving hard against her, wanting some friction against my lips, my clit. But most of all I wanted her inside me. The sudden realisation of those words, unspoken as yet, set off fireworks in my head. When she lifted her head, her eyes dark with lust, and blazing with a matching desire, lips puffy and swollen from her ravaging of my breasts, when her look burned into my eyes, and she asked, "Tell me Danielle. Tell me what you want. What do you want me to do to you?", what could I do but moan out what I had been asking her to do to me every night. "Fuck......me......I want you......to fuck me. Please." I pleaded. The fire in her eyes burned even brighter, as her face hovered over mine. I felt her hand moving down my body, over my hip, her face suddenly softened into a half smile, and unexpectedly, she kissed me softly, gently, almost shyly. "I'd be delighted to, sweetie, I just wanted you to ask me," and her mouth took possession of mine in a hot, searing kiss, her tongue pressing into my mouth, seeming to search every inch of it, her tongue vibrating with her moaning. I became aware of her hand moving over my hip, lower. Then across my belly, and the sensitive skin along the waist of my panties, her fingers dragging over my skin. I shivered and moaned at her onslaught, and as I felt her fingers move over my panties...lower and lower....finally touching, stroking, caressing the wetness seeping into them, and the swollen lips beneath them, I moaned into her mouth, my hips moving against her fingers, wanting her touch. She lifted her head from mine and began to kiss her way down my body, leaving a hot trail of touched spots down my chest, over my breasts, my stomach, my belly, until she reached my panties. As she moved her head and lips lower, her hands came back up to capture my breasts, squeezing them, stroking them, teasing the nipples, until I thought I would go mad. By now I was begging, "Rebecca! Please, please!" She lifted her head and herself up onto her knees, grasped my panties and began to pull them downwards. Realising what she wanted, I lifted my hips in a copy of the movement I wanted to make against her fingers, and with a rush she had pulled them down my legs, off my feet, and lifted them briefly to her face to inhale my scent before throwing them aside. Just as quickly she almost disappeared from my vision, as her head dropped between my legs. Her hands caressed the inside of my thighs pushing them wider apart, and as her fingers finally touched my swollen, throbbing lips, I felt her breath on me and shivered in anticipation. I felt the touch of her tongue on me as a jolt, a sensation that rippled through my whole body. As her fingers held my lips slightly apart, she slowly and deliberately licked me with her flattened tongue, from bottom to top, the final movement drifting over my clit. With a gasp and a shriek my back arched and hips lifted, pressing me more against her tongue. Oh god, I wanted her, I wanted her so much. A finger. I felt it then. One finger stroking over my dripping entrance, and slowly and easily slid into me. The breath rushed out of me as I moaned and gasped my pleasure. Swallowing, I moaned one word. "More!" No sooner had I asked than I felt the finger withdrawn, then returned, joined by another. Once more, as I felt those digits slide into me to caress my aching tissues, I moaned. "More." Once more, the two were withdrawn, and then returned, joined by another. Slowly, gently, one of her hands spread my lips, my wetness, while she filled me with the fingers. This time I moaned loud and pushed my hips against her. "Please, Rebecca. Fuck me. Please." Not saying a word, she responded and slowly but surely began to fuck me. I was in heaven. Her fingers were sure and knowledgeable. She knew just where to touch me to make me gasp and moan and whimper, to make my hips rise up against her fingers - and very soon I could feel the heat building deep inside me. My hips were moving quickly now, my hands pressing on the bed for leverage. My nipples were hard and aching, but I couldn't reach them to do anything; all I could do was ride with her, against her. She knew this and was dragging every ounce of sensation out of me. Just when I felt I was going to explode if I didn't come, I felt her tongue on my clit, which made me cry out and my hips buck even harder, forcing that hard button against her tongue. "Yes! Yes, Rebecca, yes!" I gasped. She sucked the clit into her lips, and began to flick her tongue tip over it, at the same time fucking me even harder, curving her fingers to drag over that special spot each time she withdrew. I felt as if I'd been hit by an electrical shock. My back arched, the breath was forced out of me, and suddenly I was gasping in ecstasy, as my body shook, my hips surged against her, and an orgasm such as I'd never felt before, overtook my body. I cried out. I gasped. I became incoherent. Then I became silent. The movements of my body slowed, and finally stopped, knees falling sideways, chest heaving as I gasped for breath. I was vaguely aware of movement over the next few moments, and when I finally opened my eyes, Rebecca was above me, lying slightly to the side of me, her body half on me. One hand reached out to lightly stroke my hair back from my face, her eyes on me, waiting, watching. As my eyes focussed, I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound would come, just a croak. At this she chuckled softly, and bent her head to lightly kiss my lips, allowing me to taste myself on her. I had tasted myself before, but never from another woman's lips. It was sweet, and I found myself wondering how she tasted. Cut & Dried She lifted her head slightly, her face hovering above mine, her eyes searching my face with a slight frown between them. I realised she was waiting for me to speak. "Please. Release my arms, I want to hold you." Smiling still, she lifted herself to kneeling, and sliding her hands under my shoulders, lifted the top half of my body to a sitting position helping me to shuck off the shirt and bra. I reached for her shoulders and drew her to me, feeling her breasts pressing against mine. My lips once more melded with hers for a long kiss, our tongues dancing and playing together. One of my hands drifted downwards to her ass, to find she was still wearing that silky, transparent thong. Breaking the kiss, I pulled on the thong with one hand, and whispered, "Take it off, I want to see you. Please". After a moment, she moved from me, and lay back on the bed, her feet now up by my hips. Stretching herself out, arms above her head, which lifted her breasts enticingly, she half closed her eyes, and spoke quietly, "You want them off, love, you take them off." My heart was pounding, and my mouth suddenly dry again as I moved to my knees beside her and my hands reached for the tiny scrap of material. Stopping, on an impulse I suddenly reached one hand between her legs, pushing her thighs apart, and cupped her mound, feeling the wetness that had soaked the thong. Rebecca gasped and jumped at the unexpected touch, making me smile. Oh, it wasn't all going her way. Locking my eyes on hers, I moved my hand to stroke up and down her wet, puffy lips, so clearly visible through the soaked material. She moaned again, just as she had when I brushed her hair. This time I didn't mind, this time I loved it, the way the sound of it sent ripples of desire through me. I had a sudden desire to taste her, just had to, and bending my head I hesitantly placed my lips against the wet material, sucking slightly, drawing more gasps and moans from Rebecca, as I drew her juices from the thong. She tasted divine, and I knew I wanted more. With a growl that matched hers, my hands reached for the thong and drew it quickly down her legs before discarding it on the floor. I lay on my tummy and wriggled my way between Rebecca's legs, my hands automatically sliding under her hips, grasping her cheeks, and pulling her towards my waiting mouth. For a few moments I simply looked. I had never seen another woman's pussy up close before. I was surprised at how beautiful it was, the folds, the curves, the dips and crevices begging me to explore. And that's exactly what I did. I do believe we both moaned as both sets of lips connected, and my tongue, with a mind of its own, reached out to lick the length of that silky wetness. Wanting more, I plunged my tongue as deeply as it would reach, and was rewarded with a loud gasp, and the lifting of her hips from the bed, pressing herself harder against me. For a few moments, I fucked her with my tongue, loving the taste, feel, texture of her, wondering how I had managed all this time without knowing the taste of a woman. The softness, warmth, silkiness almost overwhelmed me. Through the fog of my pleasure I heard Rebecca's voice, felt her hand on my head. "Danielle, ..... please.....fuck me........your fingers.....I need you inside me. Please." Her hips were moving against my tongue and lips, and tentatively, not wanting to hurt her, I pulled one hand from under her ass, and pressed the tip of one finger against her opening, and not daring to breathe, slid it easily into her. The sound I heard was a long moan of pleasure as the finger caressed her tissues. Slowly I moved the finger back and forth, enjoying the feel of the silkiness against my skin, until I heard Rebecca echo my own plea of earlier. "More. Please, more." I withdrew the finger, added another to it, and eased both into her. Again she moaned, "Oh yes, yes. Please." and I continued to pump in and out of her, as my tongue moved over her outer lips, avoiding the clit for now. These feelings and sensations were completely unknown to me, and I was totally absorbed in how she felt and tasted to me; so much so I hadn't noticed the growing fierceness of her movements or the desperation in her voice as she moaned and pleaded with me. I inadvertently curved my fingers on the withdrawal, and a sudden sharper movement of her hips, and a louder gasp, brought me back to what I was doing. "Yes," she gasped. "Again. Do that again." I repeated the action, and in my suddenly diminishing ignorance realised I had found her g-spot. I continued to caress this small lump inside her, my tongue now concentrating on her clit, licking and flicking it repeatedly. "Oh god! Yes. Danielle, please, fuck me. Make me come." Apparently I was doing all the right things, totally on instinct, so I moved my fingertips over the spot, and sucked on her clit. Her hips surged once hard against me, her hands in my hair gripped it painfully, and then it happened. She writhed against me, her hips bouncing off the bed, the moist tissues contracting against my fingers, holding them inside her, as I pushed deeply. I had very little idea what I was doing, but it seemed to be working as she screamed my name, and granted me the pleasure of my first orgasm. It was incredible, the emotion, the happiness I felt, as her 'yes's' became less and quieter, and her hips gradually slowed, before her body slumped to the bed. I lay there between her legs, my tongue moving lightly over the wetness she had created over the last few minutes, enjoying the new taste. I could hear her panting, and when I raised my eyes, could see her body rising and falling as she tried to regain her breath. She spoke my name, "Danielle" and her hand lightly touched my shoulder. Slowly, reluctantly I withdrew my fingers, ceased my licking - knowing I would be back for more, and made my way up her body until I was lying beside her. I slid one arm under her head, and the other around her waist, as her arms encircled me, a soft, very satisfied smile on her face. "I assumed I was your first, but that......." her voice tailed off, a smile on her face. "You were." I responded. "I just did what you did to me, and what felt right." I bent my head to lightly kiss her, sharing her taste as she had shared mine. "I never knew a woman could taste and feel so wonderful. Thank you." She smiled again, one hand brushing my cheek, "Thank you. That was pretty awesome for a first time. I can see we're going to have some fun with my toys." I must have looked puzzled, because she laughed softly, "You know I made my money from Fun Parties'?" "Yes," I replied, not sure what she was asking. Seeing the confusion on my face, still laughing, she unravelled herself from me and rolled off the bed. Taking my hand she pulled me with her as we crossed the room to another of those large closets along the wall. She pointed at the cupboard, "Go on, open it." Totally confused, I released her hand and reached to open the door, pulling it wide. When I saw the contents, I must have gasped loudly and stood frozen to the spot. I could hear Rebecca giggling behind me, and when I finally moved and turned to face her, I mouthed, "You mean......??" "Yes," she laughed back at me. "I sell sex toys under the name of 'Fun parties'. The locals think I organise parties. Its how I get away with it around here." She moved to stand beside me, pointing out the items as she mentioned them. " The locals wouldn't take too kindly to a pillar of the community selling vibrators, dildos, harnesses, lube, condoms, sexy underwear right under their noses." I was stunned. I'd seen magazines, pictures, heard of them, of course, but never seen such a collection in one place. And suddenly a nagging thought came into my head. "When you called the salon, you said you were going to a party tonight, and that's why you needed your hair doing. " I looked at her questioningly. Very slowly Rebecca moved close to me, pressing herself against me, belly to belly, breast to breast, thigh to thigh, her arms snaking around my neck, lips pressing briefly against mine. "I am at a party Danielle, and you're the guest. The only guest." Moving away she took my hand and drew me closer to the cupboard, her other hand reaching out to move over the assorted items displayed before us. While my eyes were wide with wonder, I watched her hand stop over a short, stout dildo, which she handed to me with a smile on her face. Without thinking, I took it, and watched again as she selected another, longer. Then she selected an arrangement of black leather straps, which even I, in my innocence, realised was a harness. Very slowly the items focussed into a thought in my head, and as I looked into her eyes, and saw the fire burning again in them, I stammered incoherent sounds..."You don't mean....you.....want..........?" and my voice drifted off. With a wide grin, Rebecca moved to stand close to me again, speaking softly. "Yes love, I do mean. I invited you to a party, its time for the fun to begin." And with that she took my hand and led me back towards the bed. ----------------------- And this, dear reader is where your involvement ends. This is a private party, guest list of two. Maybe I'll tell you what happened another day. For now, let the fun begin.