Groomed For Pleasure

There used to be a place I would always go to get my haircut. Over the years, I got to know everyone that worked there.

There was one overweight girl with a short bob that was dyed a different outrageous color every other time I went. There was also a very effeminate guy they had recently hired. Other than those two, the rest were very attractive women between the ages of twenty to thirty-four. They were fun-loving and outgoing with the regular customers. I found out some of my co-workers were also regulars, kind of making us one big happy family.

The one I was closest to, Paige, eventually became manager. We often commiserated since we were both in leadership positions. We talked about the trials and tribulations of corporate middle-management as she snipped away. Looking back, it probably wasn't the smartest thing riling up a woman holding scissors so close to my neck, but she needed to vent and I was the perfect shoulder.

Paige was tall, about 5'8", with fair skin and bleached hair with colorful highlights. She had a round nose and hazel eyes. She wasn't grotesquely large in the breast department, but I was always teased by a generous view of cleavage as she hunched over the chair to level my sides. Her slender frame accentuated her bosom, so I often got hard from soaking in her alluring features and enticing personality. She never knew how often I had to shift myself beneath the drape to hide my erection. So many times I wanted to ask her out, but she had moved in with her boyfriend and they sounded perfect for each other by the way she talked about him. She was still a welcome sight after a long day at work.

One visit was a very slow day. There were three employees, Paige, Emily, and Artessa, gabbing away and I was the only customer. Emily was both shorter and younger than Paige. She was a thin, raven-haired college student with classic beauty, but a modern sense of female independence. Artessa was a short, stalky and sassy lady with a chip on her shoulder. She was half black, half Puerto Rican and perpetually fighting perceived white male oppression, which meant she took every comment about her appearance as some offhanded offense against her people. It was hard to gauge how serious she was about it because she went about it in such a comedic way. It was off-putting until you got to know her. She always wore tight clothes with pushup bras that accentuated her large, bouncy breasts. I think she knew how drop-dead gorgeous she was and loved the attention. She would flaunt her curves, then berate any man who dared to notice, but I think she craved public attention and wouldn't have it any other way. These were three socially liberated women.

This day, I took off work early since I was between projects. Paige waved me to the back as she welcomed me with a hug then draped the cloth around my neck. She had on a light, silky colorful dress that floated about her curves. It seemed in real danger of flying right off her body.

"How have you been, hun?" She cooed.

"Oh, super stressed. We got this new auto-scheduling program and it's driving us all crazy. We've been patching bug fixes and juggling logistics all month," I ranted.

"Won't they ever get it? We know how to manage our people. We don't need to waste time learning how to bypass new software just to keep doing what we were already doing!"

"I know! Anyway, I've been putting off this haircut because all the extra hours I've been putting in. My hair's so shaggy I know how Cousin It feels."

She giggled and ran her hands through my mane.

"It's nothing a little snip-snip can't fix."

We made small talk and she laughed at my dry sense of humor. I had her in tears in only a couple minutes. While she usually chuckled at my jokes, this was much more.

"Oh, God I needed that!" Paige exclaimed. "Thanks for cheering me up today. You made my day, sweetie."

"Are you doing ok?" I asked with all seriousness.

"Yeah," she initially responded. "Well, I mean me and my boyfriend had a little fight..." she drifted off.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I offered, but it never feels like enough.

"Hey, you want a shampoo?" She counter-offered, then added, "complimentary!" in her angelic voice. Who in their right mind is going to turn that down?

In the blink of an eye, she had me leaned back with a warm cloth over my face and steam rising from the wash station. I'll be honest, I've never had someone else wash my hair before. It felt amazing. She massaged my scalp as she lathered in the shampoo.

The physical reaction didn't take long. I was rock hard in a flash. Only this time, I didn't have a barber's cloth for cover. Shifting my legs did nothing except bring attention to my discomfort.

A hand found its way to my crotch. I wriggled in shock and whispered, "I'm so sorry. It- " but a finger shushed me. It traced the outline of my tent pole and silently rubbed the tip through my slacks.

I expected it to stop, having made the point to remind me how I'm a slave to my manly urges, but it didn't. Another hand tag-teamed in to undo my fly and peel away my underwear.

When I tried to raise my arms so I could lift the towel from my face and see who was giving me superior customer service, more hands held me down. I couldn't be sure who was fondling me because Paige's hands and the mystery hands had lost contact a few times. For all I knew, all three women were swapping places. In fact, I was fairly certain of that because the hands would often leave me at the same time. Each time I tried to peek, hands were there to hold my arms or towel down.

One hand was now stroking my cock while the other oiled my balls. My legs were shifting from the overwhelming pleasure traveling up my ballsack, through my throbbing manhood, up my chest and straight into my brain.

"What are you doing? I'm, ungh, gonna cum if you don't stop."

There was a shroud of giggles. Was everybody in on this?

Slippery hands slithered their way under my shirt.

"Paige?" My voice cracked in desperation.

Her response, "Relax, babe. This is the perk of being a loyal customer. Your trim comes with a happy ending today." She leaned close for the last part. Her breath sent shivers down my body.

The whir of an electric razor perked my ears. It was close. A hand held my rigid cock to each side so the razor could mow down my pubes. The vibrations were heavenly and I could no longer hold back.

Cum flew out of me with incredible force. I couldn't tell where it was landing. For all I knew it was hitting the ceiling.

When the spasms ended, I was free to lift the towel. My vision returned to my shiny, shaven cock dribbling onto a big towel. As I cleaned myself, I saw Emily hurriedly putting her phone away.

After cleaning up, they gave me half off for my continued loyalty. When I looked up I noticed the angle of the mirrors surrounding the wash station gave a perfect view of my lower half from the entrance. Anyone walking by could have seen what these girls did to me!

Embarrassment got the better of me as I dropped cash on the counter with a huge tip. Paige gave me a knowing wink as she pressed a note into my sweating palm. I rushed out the door in a heart-pounding daze.

Making it home and settling my pulse, I pulled it out and read, "I make house calls" with her number scrawled across the bottom.

Future appointments could be very interesting.