The way you pressed your warm breasts into my face was exhilarating. Your breathing rhythmic in my right ear.
Your name tag said Melanie.
And it too was pressing into my eyebrow as your arms came from behind my head and gently settled around my chin.
You looked beyond my iris and spoke to my soul. It was if you were looking at particular thoughts I had so painstakingly hidden.
You combed through each one, meticulously arranging, parting and cutting. I felt naked.
You lightly brushed my chin, ran your fingers thru my hair and slapped your double D's against my face without caution. Your aroma was intoxicating.
Finally you spoke.
"Do you want me to trim more of the sides or is that good?" You sprayed disinfectant on your clippers as your feet worked the chair pedal. Swinging me around to face the mirror.
"I think thats good, Melanie. Might I inquire as to the fragrance you wear?"
I had a hard time disengaging from the mirror image of myself. I love mirrors.
"That is marlboro lights, banana latte coffee and hair spray darling. I was in a hurry this morning."
"If that is your rushed scent, I must partake of the finely tuned version Melanie."
"Your sweet. $15 please." We both approached the register.
"Come now. I felt a connection between us." I gave her a $20 and motioned for no change.
"Mostly my left cheek and your right tit but I guess every journey begins with a first step."
"You like hearing your own voice don't you?" She returned me $5.
"Yes, there is that but what I share is sincere." I slipped the $5 back across the counter.
"Lets disconnect from our play faces and go for full on nudity. Me, you, my honda, lots of orgasms..." I motioned for the door.
You briefly stared at me and then glanced around me, "Sir in the red...your next..." and back to me whispering, "I'm a Lincoln Navigator kind a girl." You smacked your ass for emphasis.
I licked my lips.
"Not at this pay scale your not." I accurately noted as she walked away. "But If shooting for the moon is a regular thing for you, than I'm. Your. Man."
And then, I could not help myself. I really couldn't. Meaning, my hand stretched out almost involuntarily and slapped her ass as she walked past. Instantly I thought: Too hard, oversell, and exit.
As I drove away, I could hear the sirens coming closer.
I imagined myself taking on the sins of Gotham and bearing this shame for the better of the city. The dark knight being pursued but never caught.
But my eyes were watering too heavily from the mace to savor that thought much and now the honda smells of it too.
My Melanie Melons. Sweet cutter of the follicle and deft dispenser of mace. I should have known your fast, scissor fingers would be my undoing.
But know this...Honda's are smaller yes, but far better on gas mileage and longevity. That is to say, more bang for your buck.
Your name tag said Melanie.
And it too was pressing into my eyebrow as your arms came from behind my head and gently settled around my chin.
You looked beyond my iris and spoke to my soul. It was if you were looking at particular thoughts I had so painstakingly hidden.
You combed through each one, meticulously arranging, parting and cutting. I felt naked.
You lightly brushed my chin, ran your fingers thru my hair and slapped your double D's against my face without caution. Your aroma was intoxicating.
Finally you spoke.
"Do you want me to trim more of the sides or is that good?" You sprayed disinfectant on your clippers as your feet worked the chair pedal. Swinging me around to face the mirror.
"I think thats good, Melanie. Might I inquire as to the fragrance you wear?"
I had a hard time disengaging from the mirror image of myself. I love mirrors.
"That is marlboro lights, banana latte coffee and hair spray darling. I was in a hurry this morning."
"If that is your rushed scent, I must partake of the finely tuned version Melanie."
"Your sweet. $15 please." We both approached the register.
"Come now. I felt a connection between us." I gave her a $20 and motioned for no change.
"Mostly my left cheek and your right tit but I guess every journey begins with a first step."
"You like hearing your own voice don't you?" She returned me $5.
"Yes, there is that but what I share is sincere." I slipped the $5 back across the counter.
"Lets disconnect from our play faces and go for full on nudity. Me, you, my honda, lots of orgasms..." I motioned for the door.
You briefly stared at me and then glanced around me, "Sir in the red...your next..." and back to me whispering, "I'm a Lincoln Navigator kind a girl." You smacked your ass for emphasis.
I licked my lips.
"Not at this pay scale your not." I accurately noted as she walked away. "But If shooting for the moon is a regular thing for you, than I'm. Your. Man."
And then, I could not help myself. I really couldn't. Meaning, my hand stretched out almost involuntarily and slapped her ass as she walked past. Instantly I thought: Too hard, oversell, and exit.
As I drove away, I could hear the sirens coming closer.
I imagined myself taking on the sins of Gotham and bearing this shame for the better of the city. The dark knight being pursued but never caught.
But my eyes were watering too heavily from the mace to savor that thought much and now the honda smells of it too.
My Melanie Melons. Sweet cutter of the follicle and deft dispenser of mace. I should have known your fast, scissor fingers would be my undoing.
But know this...Honda's are smaller yes, but far better on gas mileage and longevity. That is to say, more bang for your buck.
N.
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