A Slow Tuesday

Tuesday afternoons were always a drag. Most customers stopped in on Saturday or later in the week so the shop often was empty most of the day. Six o'clock closing time seemed forever in arriving. The day was endless, especially on warm, sunny, late spring days like this one.

So she was seated in the red leather barber's chair, legs crossed, head leaning back and daydreaming about – her favorite fantasies, what else? – when she heard the bell on the door ring signaling an entry. She turned, figuring it was a late-afternoon delivery and was surprised to see it was a new customer with a thick, full head of hair, wavy on top with curls tumbling over his collar.

She immediately brightened and rose, heels clicking on the linoleum floor as she swiveled the chair around to face him. "Have a seat, " she said, smiling and taking in that bounty of hair, "it's nice and warm and waiting."

He chuckled. "So considerate of you, such service" he added, settling back into the chair.

She swiveled it to face the wall of mirrors, her voice sliding into the inevitable "What'll it be" with a little more tension, a wisp of hope...

He paused, smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she stood by the chair, and said firmly, "Take it all off."

Her lips curled up into a small smile, a controlled smile as her heart raced. "That'll be quite a change," she said. "Are you sure?"

He didn't hesitate.

"Yes," he said, "it's time for my spring shearing."

Oh my, she thought, this Tuesday could be memorable. Should I? Could I? Will he?

She knew she had to do one thing before answering those questions. Thinking quickly, she muttered something about the sun coming in blindingly through the window. She left him sitting there staring into the mirror as she pulled the blinds closed, gently put the "Gone Fishin' " sign in the door and softly locked it without a telltale click.

When she returned, the striped white cotton cape still was draped over the chair's arm. In an instant, she decided to see just how interesting this Tuesday might become.

"You know," she said standing beside the chair, " to do what you want, I'll take out my big clippers, push your head down" – she grabbed a fistful of the thick curls cascading from his neck and pulled up, forcing his chin to his chest. He grunted. "Then I'll place them here," she said, her fingernails slipping under the thicket at the hair line, "and run them up to the top."

With that, she ran her hand up the back of his neck, ruffling his hair. "One pass. A second pass. And then a third pass. It will all be gone."

She smiled to herself, imagining her hands rubbing that head as she placed it.

"Then I'll run the blades over the sides. First, this side," she said, leaning in, her mouth next to his ear. "Then the other side. And finally, I'll sit you straight up, have you look in the mirror, and run the clippers right down the middle of your head.

"The hair will cascade down over your shoulders," she added, her hand tracing its path, "and bowl in a mass in your lap."

With that, she ran her hand down his cheek, over his shoulders, down his rippling chest and – YES! – over the bulge in his black jeans.

She chuckled softly. "My, my, that seems to interest you," she said, rubbing his hard-on through the jeans.

"Yes," he said smiling. "Very much so."

"And it interests me," she added, removing her hand and slipping it under her skirt and beneath her panties to briefly explore her newly warm wetness.

"See?" she said, taking it out and offering a finger, which he gently took into his mouth, tonguing it.

She paused. They were beaming at each other, faces already flushed.

"There is one thing I'm not sure about," she said. "You said, 'Take it all off.'

"Now was that a rhetorical question?

"Take it all off?

Were you asking my advice?

Was it a request?

Or was it a command?

"Take it ALL off."

He smiled. "You're very perceptive," he said.

"Well," she said, "you know hair will be everywhere. The cape won't stop those itchy little fuzzies from going down your shirt. So stand up...That's it. Right there."

She walked over to him and began unbuttoning his shirt, while gazing into his eyes..."take it all off,' she said softly.

She undressed him, kneeling down to pull off his underwear and enjoying the sight of his hard cock springing up as she did.

"Now," she said, "I also think there was a command there."

With that, she began to unbutton the barber's smock she wore over her bodysuit. Then she slipped her skirt down and off. And finally her top, leaving her with just a bra and panties. He reached around to unsnap the bra and it slid easily off her hard body.

He, too, knelt to slide her panties all the way down and off, rubbing the top of his head and that thick hair in her bush as he did.

When he rose, he ran a hand down her cheek and over her body, brushing her hard nipple. She sighed. Yes, she thought, this will be one slow Tuesday to remember.

She reached out and curled her fingers in the soft hair of her chest. "Hmm," she said, "a winter pelt in spring. Time to take it all off."

With that, she left him, went to the counter and picked up the small, silver shaving clippers, clicking them on when she returned, their low hum filling the shop. She placed them just above his hard cock and began shaving the dark line of hair bisecting his bellybutton, the clippers rising up his chest. She glanced to watch his eyes roll back into his head at the sensation.

She moved surely over his chest, shaving his pecs, brushing the little hairs away as she did. When she was done, she softly raked her nails over his bare chest and abs, slipping down the grab his cock. "One last trim," she said, and he started. "Don't worry."

She gently pushed aside his cock and trimmed away some of the forest surrounding it, kneeling when she'd finished. "There, the cut highlights your best feature," she chuckled, deep-throating him for a few strokes.

"Now, in the chair."

He looked at her, perhaps hoping she'd go down on him again and then, after long seconds, complied. She moved the chair back, into the shaving position and spread warm lather over his chest, quickly pecking away with the razor. "Take it all off," she said, "nice and smooth."

As she did, his hand found its way into her thick red hair and began guiding her downward...She complied. She figured he'd be up for her again, later. So she sucked hard and took it all when he spasmed in a rolling orgasm.

She crawled up onto him in the chair and lay astride him after he finished, the two of them panting. They stayed like that for minutes.

Then she picked up her head. "Take it all off – a request. I'm betting you're handy with the clippers."

With that, she dismounted and beckoned him to the counter. She put the chair back up, then turned and handed him the silver clippers.

"Take it all off – that's a request."

She got into the chair, spread her legs and revealed a thick, red bush. "Yes," he said, "you won't be going to the beach with that."

He knelt down on the filigreed footrest and began at her knee, tonguing the inside of one thigh while brushing the other with his thick hair...She leaned back, letting herself go in his practiced hands. His tongue moved teasing up nuzzling her thick bush then back down.. And then when she felt the first full flush of wetness, he pulled away and she heard the clippers click on.

He rested them, vibrating, against the inside of her thigh and looked up at her.

"Yes," she said, "all of it. Then I want a before and after meal."

I want you to eat me when I can pull your long hair and control where your head goes now. Then I want you to eat me again later when I'm stroking your buzzed head.

"Two sensations. Two incredible turn-ons."

"Be quiet," he said. "Lean back."

He had done this before, she thought, as he carefully guided the small clippers, especially around her lips. He also let them linger on her inner thigh, the vibrations making her wetter and wetter. She needed, she craved for his tongue on her clit. Her right hand reached up and across to pinch her left nipple.

And just like that, she got his tongue. Gentle circles, slow at first. So slow, his tongue barely touching the pink nub. Then faster, her hand in his thick mop...Then slow agai, as she moaned.

He was good, practiced, attentive to her, sensing what she wanted and giving it to her. He watched as her thighs tensed and her back arched ever so slightly, slowing his tongue to an achingly tender touch. One slow pass. Then another. Then another.

Her breathing quickened. Her hand grabbed his hair harder. And then she came on his face, pulsing with one wave of orgasm after another.

When she'd finished, he climbed up into the chair to kiss her and she tasted her own cum.

They changed positions and she snuggled up to him as he sat in the chair, one leg wrapped around him, the leather seat slick with her wetness. They enjoyed the warmth of the afternoon for long minutes.

Then she got off him, kissed him lightly on the cheek and said, "The clippers are cool. Good thing. We're not done today. Not by a longshot."

END OF PART 1