Both of my parents, my older brother and I, have been having our hair done at “Generations Salon,” for as long as I can remember. My very first haircut was done there and every haircut since.
Its called Generations, because, it’s been owned by the same family for many, many years. Cathy has her Mother, Beverly, and her Grandmother, Angie, working there. I know Cathy is 24 because we were in the same grade all thru High School. When I went off to college, Cathy went to the local Beauty School . Now, she manages the family salon. I’m an Assistant Manager at a local Bank. Neither of us is married. In High School ”Cat,” as she liked to be called was very flirtatious, very friendly and very outgoing. Perhaps she was a little too much so. She had a reputation for being promiscuous. Although we knew each other back then, we were never close friends. We traveled with different crowds. Being the type of guy that always has his ear to ground, (you learn to do that as a banker) from what I gather, she still deserves her reputation. My older brother, Donnie, once told me a friend of his was having an ongoing affair with Beverly, Cat’s mom. So, I figured, ”Like Mother, like Daughter.” But I didn’t think about them much. I wasn’t getting any of what they were giving, so it didn’t interest me much. With a promising career in banking looming in my future, I was seeking “apple pie,” types anyway. Last Tuesday night, my late night at work, I locked up at nine and headed home. I was stopped at a traffic light and looking around. I noticed the lights on in the salon and no cars in the parking lot. I thought maybe I could get a quick trim without having to wait. As I entered, Angie was closing out the register. There wasn’t anyone else in sight. I knew Angie to be a highly skilled hair cutter. “Whoops,” I said, “I guess I’m too late for a trim?” “It’s never too late for you, Allie-boy.” I was surprised she knew my name. She hadn’t cut my hair in about 15 years. I guess she knew me through my family or maybe as one of her grand daughters school mates. “It’s really a good feeling to be known by name,” I said. “It makes a customer feel important.” “Well, I’m glad I made you feel good and you are important. Through the years I’ve watched you grow up. You’re a fine young man, from a nice family. I’ve always liked you.” I’m thinking this old babe really knows customer service. I’m in here less then a minute and I’m already thinking about how big a tip I should give her. “Just one thing Allie,” she says. “I want to shut the lights in the waiting room and lock the door, because you’ll be the last one in today.” She locks the door, flips a switch, holds my hand and walks me back to the shampoo sink. Angie drapes me in a cape and leans me back for a shampoo. I swear she presses her thigh against my shoulder as soon as I leaned back. Then she leans over me and her tits are hanging in my face. Could it be my interpretation, or is she trying to turn me on? I mean, this old babe is my grandma’s age. I decided it was not an accident. She touched her titties to my face about 5 times. She said, “OK honey, Come with Angie, right over here.” I heard, “Ok horny, cum with Angie, right over here.” Again she’s holding my hand, and leading me to her hydraulic chair. When we get there, she kisses the back of my hand and doesn’t release it. Still holding my hand, she looks me in the eyes and says, “OK handsome, what can I do to make you happy tonight” She said it with a smile on her lips and a glint in her eye. “I like a trim that doesn’t look like I just had a haircut,” I replied. “Relax, Allie, I’m not going to bite you. Your body is full of tension, relax, big guy.” Well she was right. I could feel the tension all over me. Funny, I thought. I was relaxed when I walked in here. Angie put her hands on top of my shoulders. She massaged them firmly and she massaged my neck. Her fingertips were dancing all over my scalp and down the back of my neck. It made me laugh. My laugh made her laugh too. Our laughing caused all the tension to dissipate. Angie began her haircutting at the back of my head. There wasn’t any physical contact between us. I thought I must have been a perfect asshole, imagining her coming on to me. I was glad I didn’t touch her inappropriately or say something out of line. I was wrong. Working on the left side of my head, she put her thigh against my upper arm. I thought she rubbed it against me. I looked at her face in the mirror. She had a hint of a smile on her face. As soon I recognized this as a cat and mouse game, I had to smile too. That emboldened her and she positioned herself so my elbow was nestled between the tops of her thighs. Now there were tiny sounds of pleasure coming from her. They were barely perceptible moans. My circulatory system got into the game and started sending reinforcements to my cock. Then my brain decided to play too. I positioned my right elbow well beyond the arm of the styling chair. When she came around to that side of the chair, she put her pussy right on my elbow, right on cue.