Lending a Helping Hand

She managed to push a smile through her tired face. I could tell that she understood me, but she didn't say anything. She just turned and walked up to the front counter, and I paid her, along with a hundred dollar tip. Her eyes widened. "What's this for?"

"Well, two things. First, you did a great job on my hair. Second, I kind of have a favor to ask. I'd like to schedule an appointment for next month, but I need an early one."

"That's no problem, Dani. You don't need to tip me THAT much. I can put you in first thing at 10 am."

"That's the thing, Candy. I get up at zero-500. I like to get an early start on the day. So I need a really early appointment, like around 7 am."

"How about 7:30? That's when my kids leave to catch the bus for school."

"That's a fair compromise. I'll just grab a coffee somewhere... OK, I'll see you four weeks from today, 7:30 am."

I didn't realize my hands were resting on the glass counter until Candy put her hands on top of mine. My heart fluttered for the third time. Her mouth said, "Thank you," but her eyes said, 'please don't leave.' We stood across the counter from each other for several moments, her warm hands still touching mine. The longer I looked at Candy, the easier it was to see the happier version of her.

So many things went through my head at that point. Should I just say goodbye? Should I lean in and give her another hug? Should I lean in and give her a more than friendly kiss... I told myself to calm down. You can't just lean over and kiss a straight woman.

But I had to admit, at that point, I was more than just a little attracted to Candy. And I also got the feeling that kissing another woman wouldn't be a new experience for her. Maybe it was her body language around me. Maybe it was the way her eyes sparkled at me, conveying something more than friendship. Yes, she was married with kids, but we all have a past, and hers might have included a dalliance with another girl in her younger days.

I kept looking at Candy, reacquainting myself with each dark blue flick in her baby blue eyes, her cute little turned-up nose, and her rosy cheeks as a genuinely contented smile splashed across her lovely face. Not the forced smiles I was getting before. It made me happy to see her REAL smile.

My feet felt like they were in concrete. I didn't want to leave Candy, but I knew I couldn't stand there all day. I think I startled us both when, right before I headed for the door, I tapped the counter with my knuckle and said, "Think about what I said Candy."

The bell at the top of the door let her know that I was leaving. I took a quick look back, caught her eye, and smiled. What the hell, I decided to give her a wink too.

**********

Like all women do when they get home from a salon, I inspected my look in the bathroom mirror. Candy had done a fabulous job.

As I ran my fingers through my hair, it suddenly felt softer somehow. I wondered what she had used. Then, the memory of those wonderful tingles Candy gave me came rushing back. I imitated her movements, running my fingers gently through my hair the way she did. I closed my eyes and pretended it was Candy.

It had been over a month since I've been with a woman, and I couldn't get Candy out of my mind. So I did the only sensible thing, I masturbated. Right there at the sink. I quickly stripped down to nothing and went back to running my fingers through my hair while looking into the mirror.

I'm mostly comfortable with the body God gave me. Would I fix some things? Sure. I have somewhat of a masculine physique, except for my breasts. They're bigger than I like. Mostly because they get in the way sometimes. I've thought about getting them reduced, but then I think about most of the women that I've had sex with, and how they lavish so much attention on them.

I closed my eyes and let nature take over. My mind went back to Candy's pretty face. Her charming smile, her delicate blue eyes, her pleasant perfume, and her magical fingers.

I imagined her fingers gliding ALL over my taut body. My own hands moving the way I would have wanted Candy's hands to move. My right hand found its way to my trimmed mound and I accidentally bumped the sink, getting a pleasant surprise. The rounded corner of the porcelain sink was the perfect height to stimulate my clit.

I've long since let go of any shame about masturbation. Any kind of masturbation for that matter. I've done it at work, in the car, and at the kitchen table after breakfast. Pretty much anywhere I can. If I needed that rush, that toe curling release, I just did it. No guilt. My religious parents would have had a fit for what I was about to do in their bathroom, but whatever gets the job done is my motto.

The porcelain was cool as it made contact with my slippery nub. It took a minute or two to find the right spot, the right hip movements, the right way to lean, the right tippy-toe height. But soon I was well on my way. Shifting my hips forward and back.

My hips and toes found THE perfect spot on my clit. Over and over I pushed my clit into that perfect curve, and moaned out in pleasure. I watched my firm breasts overflow my fingers as I squeezed and squished them under my hands.

I had one lover that could climax from just moderate breast stimulation. She called it a boob-gasm. I couldn't do that, but I do love the feeling when a woman gives my breasts the tender loving care they need. I felt tiny pulses of electricity traveling directly to my clit.

I licked my fingers, and pinched and pulled on my nipples. The harder I pinched, the more easily they slid from my grasp. It was such an enjoyable and fun feeling that I couldn't stop myself from doing it over and over.

The tingles running down my spine and goosebumps rushing over my skin signaled a wonderful impending orgasm. Soon my head tilted back and my eyes automatically closed. I concentrated on the tingle tornado swirling throughout my body. My legs stiffened and I held onto the sink, letting myself enjoy the warm and wonderful full body sensation.

Finally, I leaned forward and watched two foreheads meet. I said 'thanks, I needed that,' to the face in the mirror.

**********

Over the next few months, my 7:30 am appointments with Candy worked out great. I found myself noticing many little things about Candy: her blonde hair with fading blue highlights, her naturally long lashes, and her beautiful blue eyes that seemed to get bigger as I entered her shop. I noticed a fluttering in my heart every time she stood close to me, and I eagerly anticipated the sensation of her soft fingertips gliding through my hair. Oh the tingles.

Our conversations were nice too. We discovered many shared likes and dislikes. She had many questions about the military, and I was happy to answer them. The flow of our banter was warm, and friendly. But she never brought up the subject of her husband anymore.

I also noticed some physical changes in Candy. She had lost weight, smiled more often, and had a lively bounce in her step. She seemed to take more pride in her appearance as well. Her perfectly done eye makeup was often adorned with small shiny rhinestones over one eye. I thought it was a great modern look. With each passing visit, I found her even more attractive than the first time we met.

Then came that fateful day. I walked in, ringing the bell at 7:30 sharp. "Be right there," I heard Candy's gentle disembodied voice say.

This time, the green curtain opened slowly. She was twisting and turning, jumping up and down. Like you do when you're struggling to force fit your body into that one size smaller pair of blue jeans. She must have been on the last button.

"GOT IT!" She announced happily. I couldn't help but cover my mouth and giggle.

She had zero makeup on, her hair was wet and perfectly straight, and her white V-neck top, wet in spots, showed off a little cleavage... But you know what? As far as I was concerned, she looked great.

"Sorry Dani, I just got out of the shower," she said as she began setting up her station.

A huge smile remained on my face. "No problem, Candy," I said as she snapped the same dark blue cape around me.

She stood behind me, and started to run her fingers through my hair when she shared some exciting news. "I stepped on the scale this morning and noticed that I lost six more pounds this month, so I thought I'd try on my old jeans... and they fit!'

I've been told that I have a hard time controlling my facial expressions. So I didn't mean to, but one eyebrow went way up. It seemed like Candy interpreted it as an expression of doubt.

That garnered me a friendly slap on my bare arm and a quick, but friendly retort from Candy. "Hey, shut up! These are my jeans from beauty school. Sure, they're worn a little thin, but I think they look good." I nodded in agreement. "They're a size 8. Six months ago, I was wearing a size 12."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry. I just thought you looked kinda funny dancing around like that. Dropping that much weight is impressive... Are you working out?" I asked, trying to recover from my unintentional reaction.

Candy went back to running her fingers through my hair. And really, at this point, it was more of a scalp massage.

"A couple of us um... neglected moms started our own evening yoga class. Most of us have a lot of energy to burn off." She giggled. "That, along with eating healthy."

"That's great, Candy. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Dani," she said as her magical hands caused tingles to take over my body for the umpteenth time... My eyes closed in delight. I let my body float away on the tiny waves of goosebumps. She continued the massage longer than she ever did before. When I finally opened my eyes, I realized she was fully aware of the effect she had on me. Her slightly naughty smile and that twinkle in her eye gave her away.

She just stopped and asked, "Same as last time?" Now with a silly smile on her face.

"Yes please. But this time, I think I want red tips in my hair."

"You got it, sweetie," she said, taking my hand, just like every other time, over to the sink. I loved how soft her hand was. I always wondered how that could be, considering she uses her hands all day.

Her magic fingers started washing my hair and I closed my eyes, enjoying the familiar tingles. And after a few minutes of normal scrubbing, her hands slowed way down. With gentle yet firm movements, her hands massaged my scalp, and it felt heavenly.. Then her fingers moved even slower, and her thumbs were making slow circles on my temples.

In a soft and sweet voice, she asked, "Do you like this, Dani?"

Without realizing, I responded with a breathy moan, "Oh God yes... Don't stop."

Apparently she couldn't resist making a joke, or was she flirting. She chuckled out and said, "I bet you say that to all the girls."

With my eyes still closed and sporting a big smile, I flirted back. "No, just the pretty ones with sparkling eyes that give me goosebumps."

She smiled back at me, ear to ear. I could tell she wanted to continue our playful banter, but she restrained herself and started rinsing my hair. Then it was hand in hand for a few more seconds while we walked back to the styling chair.

She went to work on my hair and started a conversation. "So Dani, how's your love life going?"

"Not too good, I guess. There aren't any exclusive lesbian bars in town," I said, as she snipped away.

"I tried a lesbian dating app"... snip, snip... "but the girls..."

Snip, snip. "Well, let's just say most of them were NOT my type."

"So, Dani, what IS your type?" she asked with a silly grin and her lip curled up on one side. Now I knew she was flirting with me. And while my first thought was, thank God I didn't say it aloud,"You're my type, Candy," I knew she was married with two kids... But you never know?

Several years back, when many enlisted men from our base were deployed to the Middle East, I had my pick of married women. I guess some sex deprived housewives don't care who gets them off, as long as somebody does. And I certainly didn't mind being the giver and not the receiver.

Now I find myself in quite a dry spell. And a pretty blonde beautician smiling at me, asking me what type of woman I like. So... I wanted to see if she gets as good as she gives.

I tried to catch her eye in the mirror. "Well, I like my women on the shorter side, long blonde hair, maybe with some blue streaks." She moved to the front of the chair realizing that I was describing her.

Snip, snip. "Blue eyes are nice..." I said. There it was again, she was rubbing her crotch against the back of my hand, but I kept talking like nothing was happening. "And I like smaller breasts on..." Then she started doing that tippy-toe thing, rubbing her pussy up and down the back of my hand.

Without stopping her movements, she said with a slight stutter, "Oh yeah, why do you like smaller breasts?"

My beautician rubbing her pussy over the back of my hand has to be a nine out of ten on my weirdness scale, but of course, who am I to talk? Ever since I found out my pedestal sink could get me off, it's been almost a daily occurrence. Let's see where this goes, I thought to myself.

"I just love the gentle swell of a small breast as I glide my hands over a woman's body." Her tippy-toe movements quickened.

"I love the soft supple curve." I continued, shifting my hand a little to make better contact.

"I love the way most small breasts seem to be more sensitive and have long hard nipples, just ripe for flicking my tongue over." Her pussy continued rubbing against my hand... harder than ever.

"But most of all, I love how they taste so sweet." Her legs widened as I spoke and I knew she gave up any pretense of cutting my hair. She gripped the back of the chair to stabilize herself while continuing to ride my hand.

Her breathing deepened. "What... what... what else... do...do...do you like." As her thin, skin-tight denim covered pussy kept up a comfortable, steady pace.

I could have done thirty minutes on curvy hips, long smooth legs, or flat stomachs. But if a lifetime of being a lesbian has taught me anything, it was that she was close to cumming. And if a few more words would get her there...I'd be happy to oblige... and these words should do it.

"But mostly, I love a hot wet pussy. Either in my hand, or on my face." I paused, realizing I also needed a moment to catch my breath. "And I especially love a neatly trimmed pussy rubbing up against mine."

She dropped the scissors and comb. Her hands slipped down and grabbed my shoulders, her arms stiffening as she sped up her hip movements. Seconds later, heavy breaths escaped from her lips. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back. I could feel her tremble and shake. She was still sliding her covered pussy against the back of my hand as her back arched and her mouth opened. She was trying to moan but nothing came out. I could tell she was in the throes of a nice orgasm.

I didn't know what else to say, so I said the words I normally say when a woman is coming from my assistance, "Cum for me Candy! Cum for me, you beautiful woman."

"Ohhh...YES DANI YES!!!" The words finally wailed loudly from her mouth.

Watching, listening, and feeling a woman cum is the greatest joy in my life. I used my free hand to steady Candy by her waist because she was still moving, trembling, and in the ravages of her orgasm. I repeated my words, for her benefit and mine. "Cum for me Candy, honey. Cum for me, you gorgeous woman."

"Ohhh FUUUCCCKKK" filled the room as she leaned forward a little more, causing my shoulders to bear most of her weight. A few seconds later, after she was finished trembling, she collapsed sideways on top of me, mostly sitting in my lap.

As she finished using me, her head rested on my shoulder. Small aftershocks made her body twitch. I wrapped both my arms around her and I held her overheated body tightly for several minutes, occasionally kissing the top of her head.

"Oh God, Dani. I'm so sorry. I feel so ashamed and embarrassed," she whispered.

"It's okay, honey. It was a beautiful thing to experience and I loved every second." I started petting her hair. "I completely understand, Candy. You were in desperate need of a release."

In a voice that told me she was ready to cry. "But it was wrong... on so many levels. It was so unprofessional of me."

I had to lighten the mood. Still petting and weaving my fingers through her soft hair. "Like I said, Candy, it's fine, you're human... I just don't know if I should tip you, or you should tip me?"

That did it. I could hear the smile in her voice while she giggled. "You should get the tip, definitely you."

I never anticipated what happened next. She gently cupped my cheek, and her full, red lips met mine. It was a brief, yet sweet kiss, lasting only a second. But to me, it felt much longer. I felt electricity pass between us at that moment. Her lips were so soft, it was like kissing a cloud. It became evident to me that she had surely kissed another woman before. My heart swelled, and I was completely smitten. I wanted to kiss her a thousand more times, right there in the chair.

"Thank you, Dani. You're a beautiful, understanding and lovely person," she said as she snuggled her head back into my shoulder. My heart swelled because no one EVER called me beautiful before in my life... Nobody.

We shared a warm tender hug. Well, technically I was hugging while she was sitting on my lap. And of course, I didn't want it to end, but I knew it had to.

"Ah... Candy... I really don't mind. I mean, I could sit here all day like this,but... um... it's after 8am and people are starting to walk by the front of your shop. What if someone walks in?"

"I suppose you're right,'' she whispered. Then she gently crawled off of me.

"Do you mind if I go in the back to collect my thoughts and compose myself for a few minutes? I need to get a new comb and scissors anyway, the ones I was using fell to the floor." She made eye contact with me for only a mere second before she looked down, and never looked up again.

"No, honey, I don't mind at all... Take all the time you need," I assured her.

From behind the curtain, I could hear drawers being opened and closed, along with some other noises I couldn't recognize. I even heard a toilet flush. Then silence settled in for several minutes. In that quiet moment, I reflected on how I felt. I was smitten, infatuated, and captivated by Candy. Holding her warm body on my lap just seconds ago felt wonderful and natural. Her body conformed to mine like a hand in a glove.

I assumed that she must be feeling extremely embarrassed, although she really needn't. Candy needed sexual satisfaction, just like anyone else. And she needed it from a human, not from a toy.

She also probably figured that since I'm a lesbian, it would be safe. She knew I wouldn't take advantage of her or make her do something she really didn't want to do.

I smiled and looked in her direction as she walked through the curtain with confidence. She had switched to a different pair of jeans, which made sense.

"Okay, Dani," she took a deep breath, "can we pretend what happened... didn't really happen...? I think it's the only way I'll be able to finish doing your hair."

I wanted to talk about it, but she didn't. But I knew, sure as God made little green apples, we would end up talking about it sooner or later.

"If you want to deal with it that way Candy, I can respect that," I replied with a reassuring smile. I reached for one of her business cards sitting in a cute cat shaped holder on her counter. Flipping it over, I wrote down my phone number.

"But ya know what, here... Here's my cell phone number," I said, offering her the card with a comforting smile. "Call me anytime you want to talk.".