Salon Seduction

I love getting my hair cut at one particular salon.* When I arrive, I sit in the big swivel chair near the wash sink.* My hairstylist, Derek, is tall, trim, and muscular.* I think he has a really sexy looking body that he always shows off in his ultra-tight jeans and form-fitting shirts.* He is about eight years older than my twenty years, and seems more mature and experienced than I am.

*

As he drapes the apron around to protect my clothing from splashes, he always seems to gently brush against the back of my neck.* This always sends chills down my spine and, somehow, I think he knows this.* He snaps the snap and tilts my chair backwards toward the sink. I close my eyes and imagine, in my mind, how vulnerable I feel in this position.* The water comes on behind my head, and I know, as always, it will be perfectly hot – just right, in fact.

*

As the spray begins to wet my hair, I feel Derek’s long fingers begin to work the water through my shoulder-length strands.* His hands move through my hair and behind to my neck again as he lifts it to moisten all levels.* I also feel myself begin to get moist below, with excitement, when he does this.* The pin-prick force of the water spray helps to relax me a bit.

*

With my eyes still closed, I feel him add warmed, coconut-scented shampoo to my hair.* He works it into a soft, fragrant lather, lingering for many minutes near my temples and around my ears.* I love it when he does this, and he can sense how I feel by the blissful look on my face.* He massages my scalp in these sensitive areas before washing my hair some more and scrubbing at the hairline behind my head.* By the time he rinses my hair, I feel a bit tingly all over, anticipating the next sudsing.

*

Again, the shampoo is applied.* Derek expertly works it into my scalp, massaging key spots as he goes.* Oooh, I am really loving getting my hair washed by him.* No other salon has a washer who does this.* And he is the cutter and stylist, too.* Most places have a separate washer who doesn’t care about how well they wash.* Derek takes hair washing and makes it an art form.

*

After the second rinse of the soap, he adds a touch of conditioner and softly works it into the entire length of my hair with his fingers, pulling the hair gently as he does so.* By now, he has spent at least thirty minutes relaxing and teasing me, and all he has done is make my hair sparkling clean!* He sits me back up in the chair with my head draped in a warm towel and I slowly return to reality. Now for the hair cut.

*

I switch over to the haircutting chair and rest my arms on the padded arms of the chair.* Derek raises the chair to a comfortable working level.* He begins parting and cutting my hair, as always.* Today, though, I notice something different.* Each time he moves around me, I feel him brush the front of his jeans against my fingertips on the chair arms.* At first I think it is nothing, purely accidental.* He has to lean in to do his work, I tell myself.* As this continues to happen, though, I begin to think there is definite purpose to his movements.

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