Sprucing up the Male Model
We shook hands. Neal held my hand a little longer than
usual. Now I wanted to fuck him. He shouldn't have done
that. I've been without a boyfriend for two weeks. That
is like a year in hair-salon years. A woman can only
stand being without a man so long in a female dominated
space like a salon, library or hospital. Of course,
those last two get to see male customers every day to
relieve their lust-frustration. Rarely does a man walk
into a hair salon.
This big muscular black guy named Neal walked into my
hair and beauty salon on twenty-fourth street. He wore
blue jeans and a black button up-long sleeve office
shirt. I wore my satin white blue toga dressed. It was
springtime. I worked on a woman's hair, clipping her
split ends. Neal's erotic muscles and six feet framed
made the scene surreal. All the women started buzzing
and crossing their legs, whereas before they sat
comfortably spread legged.
They sat up straight. They tried to adjust their T-
shirts, dresses under their white barber cloth. I
understood the women. The heat and pressure of Neal's
presence made me squeeze my legs, as well. I
unconsciously almost reached up and stroked my small A-
cup breasts. My advantage soon won out over the other
salon girls helping me.
"You look like the owner. You're dressed the best." He
reached out and touched my elbow, sending my girly
senses into estrogen overdrive.
"You like white-blue satin on a girl," I said smiling as
I motion for Tina to come over. "Please finish Mrs.
Helen Savoy's hair. What can I do for you..."
"Neal."
We shook hands. Neal held my hand a little longer than
usual. Now I wanted to fuck him. He shouldn't have done
that. I've been without a boyfriend for two weeks. That
is like a year in hair-salon years. A woman can only
stand being without a man so long in a female dominated
space like a salon, library or hospital. Of course,
those last two get to see male customers every day to
relieve their lust-frustration. Rarely does a man walk
into a hair salon.
His deep voice continued, as we stood eye-to-eye,
albeit, my blue eyes were four feet lower than Neal's
brown eyes.
"I just got this job as a model." He held out his hands,
palms down. "I used to be in construction."
"That's great you were scouted."
"Yes, that's what the redhead called it, scouting." Neal
got really shy. He leaned in closer. I smelled his CK
cologne. Damn that was the third thing he should not
have done. Now his big physical presence, his deep
masculine voice and his charming smell and those big
hands, (isn't that's four, I'm losing count) confirmed I
had to bag him.
"I need to be cleaned up," he confessed.
"You don't have any head hair," I started trying to stop
my voice from sounding like mini-orgasms. "I'll give you
a nice shave, we'll pluck your eyebrows so they're not
straggly." I stepped back to prevent myself from
throwing my body on his body. "You need a manicure. We
can clean you up Neal. Come, right this way?
I took him in the back, into the VIP salon room, to the
giggling, murmuring of the female customers and salon
girls.
"You'll feel comfortable here, Neal." He sat down in the
salon chair, and barely fit inside it. "Oh I'm sorry. We
don't usually get football-sized men in here."
"That's okay. I don't feel nervous now." He took a big
deep breath. He placed his hands on the black arms of
the salon chair. "I thought I might get a boner out
there!" He shook his head as if he had no control over
his maleness.
"Neal, you don't have to flatter me." I said as I
decided to shave his mustache first. I wrapped the white
barber cloth around his neck.
"That's not idle flatter. All those damn pretty women,
too. Your salon girls all are smelling so good."
I lathered his mustache, "No compliment on my smell?"
"I apologize, you smell good, too. I don't usually like
flower-fruity scents..."
"I'm not telling you." I started snipping away the ends.
"You'll just tell everyone, and I won't be special to
you anymore."
"You don't have to worry about that. You're touching me.
You're already special."
I thought about that. I finished his mustache. I worked
on his straggly black eyebrows. I remained silent
concentrating. Neal wanted to talk.
"When a man comes in here..."
I interrupted him, "Do the girls get horny?"
"I'm trying to figure out this modeling thing. I went to
this agency and all these women�"
"It's normal for women to react to a masculine male like
yourself. Rest assure many male models after working,
don't notice the women at all."
I noticed however, he started playing with his barber
cloth. Something very occult under there distracted
Neal. I didn't want to asks him. Then as I reached
around, turning the chair toward the large mirror behind
me, I saw the problem. His pussyfucker began its
external exhibition. Neal was rock hard and trying to
hide it with his hands. "See how much neater you look."
I ignore his erotic condition.
"Yeah, Neal," said nervously.
"Now, to work on your manicure."
"Uhu. Now?" He stammered. He slowly removed his hands as
if he was secretly wearing handcuffs.
"My Gosh, what a stare-down black dick you have," I
joked.
"Stare-down?"
"I'm glad you asked. I lifted his white barber cover.
"See how your cock is staring at me, I'm not going to
back down and neither is he."
Neal pushed down on his cock frustrated, embarrassed.
I held up one finger, "One second, Neal." I locked the
VIP salon door. "There!"
His boner refused to stand-down.
I reached and removed his two big black hands. I
unzipped is blue jeans. I freed his thick, heavy cock
from his white briefs. "You know models don't wear
underwear."
"They don't?"
"You might as well get used to it. But first." I lowered
my hot mouth onto his cock. I could tell Neal went to
sexual heaven even before I engulfed his entire
dickmeat. My tongue started caressing his penis head. I
pulled off his cock. I hovered and used soft breathing
rushing across the tip as his staring cock-eye locked
onto my own lust-filled eyes. Neal started squirming and
thrusting toward my face.
I lowered my face back onto his raging desire. Finally,
he gave in and held my head down as his volcanic orgasm
shot gallons of manspunk down my gullet. I pulled back,
"There that should solve the problem. You can redress
him now."
I turned to mix up the materials for his manicure. When
I looked at his hands still placed on his cock. I was
surprised. "What an impertinent fellow!'
Neal gave me a stare-down and a slow smile.
I smiled back at Neal. I put the manicure concoction on
the counter. I went around and turned my back to Neal's
lap. I raised my silky white-blue dress up to my belly
button. "See no underwear!"
"I don't know if I can get used to it."
"You will. Lower your pants and briefs some more." I
straddled Neal reverse cowgirl style. I wanted to face
the door. My salon girls have the VIP key for
emergencies. I squatted lower and lower. I reached
between my wet slim legs and my dripping pussyjuices
already liberally drenched my upper thighs. I sat my 119
pounds on Neal's eight-inch, two inch cock and he went
right in, up to the hilt. His balls nuzzled against my
full pussylips. I flipped my platinum blonde, shoulder
length hair back in his black face. "Start moving Neal."
He knew exactly what to do. I didn't care there wasn't
an emotional relationship between us. We fucked for
fifteen minutes, before I forced his hot spermlava out
of his balls up into my hungry feminine plumbing. Then
he finally relaxed.
I had no further distractions stopping me from sprucing
Neal up.
In fact, Neal was very appreciative of my actions. He
uses his high model income exclusively at my salon. We
fuck on a regular basis in the VIP room and have a good
time too!
Keys: MF con exh intr oral voy
Our Shared Bathroom
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