Posted tagged ‘Hair raising experiences’

A Cutting Edge

June 19, 2010

Call me Barbara, said the stunning hairdresser to her customer as she dangled her clippers over the businessman’s head whilst her elegant left breast brushed the back of his head. With this faint touch he felt overwhelming desire for this most alluring creature. The small talk revolved around Barbara’s financial woes as she struggled against the tide to make ends meet.

Make ends meet, he thought suggestively. Both of our problems could be fixed with one fell swoop, one flashing blade, one harpoon thrust. He forwarded the proposal that as he was on a business package with his firm she should visit him in his hotel room for some carnal recreation and he would foot the bill.

Instructions were meted out to Barbara to be discrete as the floor in his hotel was populated by fellow salesmen in his company. She didn’t mind but she did mind the fact that he was wearing a wedding ring. A coded knock brought Barbara into the room of the predator. Hurriedly he crammed five hundred pounds into her bag and fumbled with her blouse. Coolly she calmed him down and motioned him to a chair while speaking with a seductive voice.

“I have always wanted to cut somebody’s hair while they are harnessed.”
“But you cut my hair this morning, it doesn’t need cut.”
“It’s only a little game and I guarantee you, I will edge you into ecstasy.”

He stripped naked as she demanded. Various belts and dress ties were used to bind his hands and feet whilst a handkerchief was stuffed in his mouth. She plumped him onto the Barbara chair where he sat chained and completely at her command. The beautifully manicured Barbara unloaded scissors and trimmers from her bag and went to work on him.

She started with his head and shaved him completely bald. The bathroom door was open and he could see his reflection in the mirror where his raw head resembled a tomato that had been fighting with a tigress. He begged her to stop through gargled gobs of foam even though he was, as she promised, visibly excited. The chest was next followed by the stomach. Teasingly avoiding his middle section she tore the hairs off his toes.

Now it was time to shear his behind and she threw him off the chair onto the floor. He landed face down and groaned with a mixture of pain and pleasure, writhing with a spasm on the carpet. She knew that he had gone over the edge. Experience had told her that all men couldn’t control a bag of cement (cement © the Romans, that’s one they’ve got over the Greeks). Barbara wasn’t going to waste her chic style on his cheeks. She helped herself to the rest of the money in his wallet and was in two minds about waking up some of his companions in the adjoining rooms before she remembered her calling. She put a paper towel in his hands.