The rhythmic click of heels approaching the reception area drew my attention away from the dog-eared "Good Housekeeping" magazine in my hands. The salon was empty of other clients, and I'd just exchanged goodbyes with the young receptionist. If everything had gone as planned, that meant there could only be one person left—the reason I'd come back here in the first place.  

And there she was—Cheryl King. She looked radiant, her confidence and poise as striking as ever. When she flashed me her sultry smile, my heart skipped a beat, and I couldn't help but smile back, recalling our last encounter. As she moved closer, I felt a flicker of nervous energy in my chest. Cheryl had always had that effect on me.

"Back for more of my magic?" she teased, her voice smooth and inviting, her black stylist's apron hugging her figure in a way that made her look both professional and striking.

"Wild horses tried, but they couldn't stop me," I replied, setting the magazine aside. 

Cheryl giggled at my macho display, her laughter carrying a teasing edge. "If that's the case, Dan, why have you kept me waiting all this time? If I'm not mistaken, you returned this morning?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low, husky whisper. Her hands slid slowly over her breasts in an overtly seductive gesture, her eyes locked on mine, daring me to answer.

I cleared my throat, trying to hide my sudden bashfulness. "I'm sorry Cheryl. I wanted to see you as soon as I could, but I need to get cleaned up before coming to see you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's what everybody says," Cheryl responded disbelievingly. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she stepped closer, the scent of her floral perfume subtly filling the space between us. "No matter, Dan, I'm just glad you wanted to see me again."

She motioned for me to follow her to the back of the salon. "Come on, let's get you seated. I can't wait to get my hands on you."

As Cheryl turned away, my blood pressure rocketed towards the ceiling when I saw she had removed her skirt. Sexy hipster panties, framed by raunchy stockings and suspenders, displayed her shapely bum for all to see. As I stood, I saw Cheryl look back at me and wink. Her lusty smile promised a very pleasurable appointment.

oOo

I first met Cheryl when my best mate, Steve, brought her into the Red Lion—our local pub—and introduced her as his new girlfriend.

She was stunning. If you were into dirty-blonde, tousled hair paired with a don't-give-a-damn attitude—and I definitely was—Cheryl was the dream. Her long, toned legs seemed poured into her jeans, and her blouse was casually unbuttoned, just enough to make you wonder whether it was intentional or not. Either way, the effect was mesmerising. Imagine Debbie Harry in her prime, with a bit more up top, and you'd have some idea of Cheryl's allure.

Her sultry mouth? The stuff of fantasies. It wasn't a stretch to think she probably gave incredible blowjobs.

I'll admit it—I fancied the pants off her. But she was Steve's girl, and the first rule of friendship between blokes is simple: don't go after your mate's girlfriend. So, I kept my feelings to myself and maintained my distance. Not that it was easy, and in all honesty, there were moments when I convinced myself to make a move on her, and the rules be damned. Luckily, I never followed through because I didn't want to put Cheryl in an uneasy position, and I had too much respect for the rules.

No one thought Steve and Cheryl would last, but I must admit, I thoroughly enjoyed their wedding. Even if Steve chose his future brother-in-law to be his best man, I'm not one to hold a grudge.

Over time, my friendship with Steve and Cheryl gradually faded. From close friends to acquaintances, and eventually, we lost touch altogether. It wasn't anything personal; it just happened. Life has a way of pulling people in different directions. After they had kids, Steve started spending more time with his family than at the pub. Eventually, they moved to one of those new housing estates—bigger, posher houses that reflected their rising status.

I, on the other hand, stayed where I was—living the bachelor life, which was easy to maintain working on a North Sea oil rig.

That was nearly fifteen years ago. Time slips away when you're not paying attention. So you can imagine my surprise when I saw Cheryl again.

I was on shore leave and needed a haircut, so I booked an appointment with my usual hairdresser. A few days later, I walked into the shop, and there she was, happily chatting and cutting a customer's hair as if no time had passed at all.

At first, I wasn't sure it was her. People change over time, after all. But seeing the familiar tousled hair, the unmistakable figure, and that sultry mouth erased any doubts. A warm glow spread through me, but before I could decide what to do, Tiffany, my regular hairdresser, appeared to collect me.

"Hello, Daniel. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied with my friendliest smile.

Tiffany, who was expecting her first child in a couple of months, waddled slightly as she led me to her workstation. As I followed, I caught Cheryl glancing in our direction. I smiled, hoping for a spark of recognition, but she had already turned her attention back to her customer. Swallowing the faint sting of disappointment, I took my seat in Tiffany's chair.

It was during this appointment that I learned Cheryl wasn't just filling in by coincidence—she was Tiffany's temporary replacement while she went on maternity leave.

oOo

Two months later, I returned, and this time, the encounter was much more personal. Tiffany had gone on maternity leave, and most of her clients—including me—had been passed over to Cheryl. As she cut my hair, we started to reacquaint ourselves.

"I'm sorry to ask," Cheryl said, a little embarrassed, "but you look so familiar to me. Have we met before?"

I nodded. "I was a guest at your wedding. Your husband, Steve, used to be on our football team," I replied, trying to keep it light.

Her jaw dropped. She froze mid-snip, staring at me through the mirror as though I'd just asked her to explain quantum physics.

"Danny…" she said slowly, repeating my name as if testing it out. Then, shaking her head, she continued, "I'm sorry, Danny, but I think you've got the wrong person. I don't know anyone called Danny—never have—and I'm certain there was no one by that name at my wedding. I wrote all the invitations myself, and I would definitely remember writing the name Danny."

Cheryl resumed cutting my hair, clearly relieved to have resolved the apparent misunderstanding. 

I smiled faintly. "Your name is Cheryl Summer—formerly King—and you're married to Steven Summer, a tugboat captain. You've got two daughters, Milly and Penelope. You like tennis and badminton but hate cricket. You don't mind football, as long as no one expects you to stand on the sidelines in the pouring rain. Your favorite pastime is curling up in front of the fireplace with a good book. Your drink of choice is red wine, though you've been known to indulge in the occasional tequila. You don't mind getting tipsy—it loosens your inhibitions—but you avoid getting drunk because, in your own words, you become 'a bit of a slut.' Now, do you still doubt me?"

Cheryl froze again, eyes wide with shock. "God, I feel so bad for not recognising you," she admitted. "Mind you, that was a long time ago, and a lot of water has gone under the bridge since then."

I nodded, agreeing that time had passed, but it felt good to reconnect. We kept chatting, and I learned how much had changed in her life.

"Steve left me… for another woman," Cheryl said quietly, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Do you remember my best friend, Tracy?"

I nodded, sensing where this was going.

"Well, we're not best friends anymore. And Steve's not my husband. Our divorce was finalised last year. It's just me and the girls now."

"How are they taking it?" I asked gently.

"Melissa's in her second year at college, studying fashion. Penny's hoping her scores are good enough to get into college next year."

Cheryl laughed bitterly. "Who would have thought I'd end up being the mum of two teenage tearaways?"

I smiled, surprised at how much the girls had grown. 

"And their dad?" I asked cautiously.

"They're not seeing him right now," she admitted, voice thick with both anger and sadness. "They can't forgive him for what he did to me. And honestly? I haven't tried to change their minds."

Cheryl's expression darkened as she vented, describing the affair Steve had with Tracy. I stayed quiet, feeling a flicker of discomfort since Tracy was an ex of mine. 

Cheryl continued, her anger still evident. "Look, I'm not a fool. If he was tired of me, he should've just said so. We could've worked it out. Instead, he had an affair for two years—and I found out by accident. I walked in on them in our bed."

I stayed silent, offering her the quiet support she needed, even if I couldn't entirely reconcile her feelings for Tracy with my own past experiences.

I met Cheryl's fiery gaze in the mirror and smiled. "Well, if Steve was two-timing you with Tracy, then you're better off without him."

Her eyes softened, and she let out a long breath. "Thank you, Dan. You always were so level-headed."

She resumed cutting my hair, finishing it with practised movements. At last, Cheryl set the scissors on the counter and picked up the handheld mirror to show me the back of my head. Then she brushed away the loose strands with a flourish and smiled at me.

"Ta-da! What do you think?"

"It looks great," I said, smiling at her as I moved to pay.

After I settled up, leaving a generous tip, I added warmly, "It was lovely to see you again, Cheryl. I'm already looking forward to my next appointment."

Her coy smile, with a flicker of something deeper behind it, was the reaction I'd hoped for.

oOo

It was another six weeks before I saw Cheryl again, and I won't deny it—during those rare, solitary moments on the oil rig, she figured in lots of my fantasies. The pleasure was all mine when I stepped through the hairdresser's door and saw her waiting expectantly. 

As Cheryl worked, the hum of the clippers and the faint scent of hairspray filled the air, but I was more focused on her presence. There was something magnetic about her—a mix of familiarity and intrigue that tugged at me.  

"So," she said, breaking the silence, "are you back on the rigs soon?"  

"Yeah, I leave in a couple of days," I replied. "Four weeks on, two weeks off. Same as always."  

Cheryl nodded, her expression unreadable. "Must be lonely out there. All that time with nothing but work and the sea."  

"It's not so bad," I said with a shrug. "Gives me time to think. And, well... the money's decent."  

She smirked, leaning in slightly as she tidied up the sides of my hair. "Time to think, huh? About what?"  

I hesitated for a moment, wondering how bold I could afford to be. "Oh, you know... life. People I used to know. People I've been running into again recently."  

Her hands paused briefly, just enough to let me know she'd caught the implication. But she didn't look up, instead focusing on evening out the back of my hair.  

"I bet you've had plenty of time to reminisce," she said lightly, though there was a curious edge to her tone.  

"More than you can imagine," I said softly, my gaze fixed on her reflection in the mirror.  

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The tension was palpable, charged with unspoken possibilities. When Cheryl finally met my eyes in the mirror, her smile was faint but knowing.  

"All done," she said, stepping back and removing the cape from around my shoulders. "What do you think?" 

I glanced at myself, running a hand through my freshly cut hair. "Perfect, as always."  

She laughed, shaking her head. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Dan."  

I stood, slipping some cash into her hand for the cut and a generous tip. "Then I'll keep that in mind for next time."

As I turned to leave, Cheryl called after me. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"  

I paused at the door, looking back at her with a smile. "I wouldn't dream of it."  

Her answering smile lingered in my mind long after I'd left the shop, along with other, raunchier thoughts. 

oOo

Our next appointment almost didn't happen. I still had another week of shore leave, but my manager called unexpectedly, asking if I could return early. A colleague had been injured in an accident and was now in the hospital. The company urgently needed to fill the position.  

Unfortunately, my appointment at the hairdresser's was for the end of the week, and I was reluctant to miss it. With nothing to lose, I called the salon and explained my situation to the young woman who answered the phone. She mentioned that Cheryl had been busy all day but suggested that, if Cheryl didn't mind, I could come in after closing time as her last customer of the evening.  

For a few nail-biting minutes, I waited for her response, my impatience growing with each passing second. 

"Cheryl said it's no problem. You can come in after hours," the woman confirmed, her words rewarding my patience.  

A weight lifted from my shoulders, and I couldn't help but smile at Cheryl's kindness.

By the time I arrived at the hairdresser's that evening, the streets were quiet, and most of the shops had already turned off their lights. I parked my car outside and glanced at my watch—it was just after six. The soft glow from the salon's windows was the only sign of life on the block.  

I stepped inside and found Cheryl tidying up her workstation. She looked up as the bell above the door chimed and smiled, a little tired but warm nonetheless.  

"You're cutting it close, aren't you?" she teased, setting down a broom. As she approached, I had to fight the temptation to whistle in admiration. The contrast between her tight leggings and the loose blouse—unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tantalising glimpse of her alluring cleavage and a hint of her bold, blood-red bra—was utterly captivating, leaving me momentarily breathless. 

"I like to make an entrance," I replied with a grin, after recovering my composure, and shrugged off my coat. "Besides, I didn't want to miss my appointment with the best hairdresser in town."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she said with a playful chuckle, locking the door behind her. "Can't have anyone interrupting while I get to grips with you," she added, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. "Now, follow me, Dan, and we'll have you spick and span in no time."  

If I thought Cheryl looked stunning as she approached, seeing her walk away was a whole new level of breathtaking. Her tight leggings hugged her curves perfectly, highlighting her beautifully shaped derrière. The subtle sway of her hips as she walked was utterly mesmerising, making it impossible to look away. The shop felt different after hours—quieter, more intimate. The hum of the fluorescent lights filled the space, and the faint scent of hair products lingered in the air. 

As she draped the cape around me, our gazes met, and her smile sent a tingle down my spine. "So, now it's just the two of us," she said, and for some reason, that realisation made my heart beat a little faster.  

As Cheryl began to work, she asked what it was like working on an oil rig. "You must have a thousand tales from out there," she said, pausing to inspect her work. "It sounds so... rugged."  

"Rugged is one word for it," I said. "Lonely is another. It's not all bad, though. The pay is decent, and you get used to the isolation." Cheryl tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "I don't think I could handle being away from the people I love that long. I'd miss... well I don't have to tell you, do I?"

I caught her gaze in the mirror and held it for a beat longer than necessary. "Yeah, that's the hardest part." I agreed. "Not being able to sleep with who I want to, when I want to." She smiled faintly and turned her attention back to my hair. 

When she finished, she stepped back and gestured to the mirror. "What do you think, Dan?"

I looked at my reflection and nodded approvingly. "You've outdone yourself, Cheryl. I don't know how you do it, but it's perfect every time." 

"It's a gift, one I save for my favourite clients," she said lightly, though there was a flicker of something more profound in her eyes—something that made my pulse quicken. I sat there, waiting for Cheryl to remove the cape, wondering where this conversation was headed. When she finally spoke, her tone had shifted, a hardness cutting through her usual charm.  

"I'm sorry to bring this up, Dan, and I know it's really none of your business," she said, raising a hand as if to soften the impact, "And even though your answer won't change anything, I need to know why… I can't seem to let it go, even after all this time."

I nodded, sensing the heaviness behind her words. "What is it you want to know?"

Her eyes locked onto mine, unwavering yet laced with vulnerability. "Why did Steve choose Tracy over me? Is she really that good in bed? So good that someone like me didn't even stand a chance?"

The rawness in her voice hung in the air, a question loaded with pain and self-doubt. I swallowed hard, recalling a comment Steve once made about Cheryl being insatiable in bed—a remark that had fueled more than a few of my recent fantasies. Compared to my own lacklustre experiences with Tracy, the contrast was stark. I realised this moment mattered, and I chose my words carefully.

Standing up, I removed the cape, hesitating as I searched for the right words. Cheryl's eyes were fixed on me, brimming with a mix of desperation and vulnerability. I offered her a warm smile, hoping to ease the tension.  

"Why Steve chose Tracy over you, I can't say," I began, keeping my tone light but sincere. "But I doubt it had anything to do with her being better in bed. Honestly, she was no great shakes—pretty boring, actually." I paused, letting my words sink in before flashing a mischievous grin. "Now, whether you're the same, I can't say." I winked, tapping my temple. "But up here, in my imagination, you're nothing short of a goddess in bed."

Cheryl's shoulders relaxed, and her lips curved into that irresistible, wispy smile that could disarm anyone.

"Thanks for squeezing me in tonight, Cheryl," I said, softening my voice. "I know it's been a long day for you."

Her smile lingered as Cheryl brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "It's no trouble. Besides, you're one of my favorite clients." 

Then, without warning, she stepped closer and before I could react, kissed me lightly on the lips. The touch was fleeting, but the jolt that shot through me felt powerful enough to jump-start a million cars.  

I decided to take a chance.  

Gripping her shoulders gently, I pulled her closer and pressed my mouth to hers. Her soft, luscious lips parted, and as she welcomed me, I slid my tongue into her mouth. The kiss deepened, an intoxicating mix of heat and urgency, and Cheryl matched my passion with even greater intensity. As our tongues danced in an electrifying rhythm, and my heart beat wildly, I wondered if things couldn't get any better. 

They did, but not in a way I could have imagined. Cheryl pushed me backwards with surprising force, causing me to stumble slightly until my back hit the long counter running the length of the wall. She didn't hesitate, closing the gap between us, her hands gripping my shirt, pulling it from my jeans. Dumbfounded, I watched her long, delicate fingers undo the buttons with a haste that matched my desires, and I reached for her hips. The air around us grew heavy as the loose buttons revealed my bare chest, and sliding my hands to her sumptuous buttocks, all I could think about was how far Cheryl would take this.

"You like my big fat arse?"

"Cheryl, your arse might be a lot of things, but big and fat it isn't." Not wanting to sound cheesy, I paused before speaking again. "I think it looks perfect, especially in these leggings." 

"That was just what I needed to hear, now tell me how much you want to see of me, Dan," Cheryl demanded breathlessly, her voice low and sultry. Then she stepped back, just enough to create a tantalising distance between us, her eyes locked on mine, her gaze filled with a mixture of desire and challenge. 

My eyes widened in awe as she slowly unbuttoned her loose blouse, letting it slip from her shoulders to reveal her stunning figure. Her gorgeous breasts, perfectly framed by the blood-red lace bra I'd glimpsed earlier, were even more breathtaking now. The soft lace barely concealed her erect nipples, pressing insistently against the fabric.  

She held my gaze, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes as if seeking my approval. I could only stare, captivated, as the heat between us intensified, my words failing me for a moment.

"You're absolutely stunning," I murmured, unable to look away.

She launched herself at me again, our mouths colliding with the same fiery passion as before, only now our desire was charged with an even greater urgency. Her soft, full breasts pressed eagerly against my bare chest, the warmth of her skin sending shivers down my spine.  

Her hands moved with deliberate intent, sliding between us. When her fingers found my thickening member, she caressed it with a teasing yet confident touch that made my breath hitch. Every movement, every connection between us, only stoked the fire blazing in the room.

"I've been thinking about this," Cheryl whispered as we continued kissing, "... and this," she gripped my erection with her strong fingers. She moved her hand up and down, rubbing my flesh through my clothes, and I couldn't help groaning.

"Aaah, you like this, don't you, Dan?" Cheryl teased between kisses, her voice dripping with playful seduction.  

I could only nod, utterly captivated by the way her tongue, fingers, and soft curves were driving me to the brink of madness. My control was slipping, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could contain the fire burning inside me.  

"I won't tell you how long I've waited for this," I moaned, my voice raw with longing as she continued to stoke my desire.  

"Neither can I," she gasped, her voice trembling with the same intensity. She pulled her hips away slightly, giving her hands more freedom to move. Her eyes locked with mine, filled with hunger and mischief, as I felt her fingers expertly undoing my belt buckle. "In fact, I've waited far too long for this," she added, biting her bottom lip in a way that made my heart race before she treated me to that gorgeous, wispy smile.  

With deliberate care, she reached for the buttons on my jeans, her lips trailing soft, electrifying kisses along my neck. Each touch sent shivers coursing through me, her tousled hair brushing against my skin in fleeting, tantalising moments.  

Her lips continued their descent, finding my chest, where she lavished the same attention, each kiss followed by a delicate, feminine whimper that sent shockwaves through me. My jeans hung loosely around my hips as Cheryl dropped to her knees, her warm mouth planting kisses on my taut stomach muscles, each touch fanning the flames of my passion. When she slid my jeans and boxers down my hips, my erection burst free, slapping against her face. 

"Wow," she murmured, a playful glint in her eyes as her fingers curled around my girth. "You weren't kidding, were you, Dan? Tell me... how long have you been waiting for this?"  

I swallowed hard. "Longer than I'd care to admit," I said, my voice thick with lust. "Let's just say I've pictured you doing this more times than I can count over the past few weeks."  

Her wicked grin widened, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, lucky me," she teased, leaning in. "This is exactly what I needed to see," and opening her mouth, she leaned forward.

With deliberate care, Cheryl's lips closed around my engorged helmet, her tongue swirling with practised ease over the spongy surface. Then she pressed her tongue into my tiny slit, her eyes fluttering shut as she savoured the salty pre-cum I was leaking.  

"Hmm, you taste amazing," she murmured, her voice heavy with desire. "You were always one of my favorites, you know. I used to wonder what it would be like to do this to you." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Not that I ever thought I'd get the chance. Steve was so paranoid about you guys hitting on me, he wouldn't even let me go to the pub without him. Always convinced one of you would try your luck." Her eyes gleamed with mischief, a dangerous edge flickering in her smile. "And he'd lose it completely if he saw me doing this." 

A shiver raced down my spine as Cheryl engulfed my throbbing manhood. I watched, spellbound, as her mouth slid effortlessly down the length, only stopping when her nose brushed against her fingers gripping the base of my cock. She held it there for a moment, her eyes flicking up to meet mine, before slowly withdrawing, releasing it from her mouth with a soft pop, a single tendril of glistening saliva connecting her succulent lips to my warmth to my engorged helmet.  

She paused to admire her handywork, a sly smile curling her lips, before repeating the process. Each time, her lips inched further as she pushed herself to take more of my saliva-covered shaft with every attempt. The rhythmic dance of her mouth and the skilful way she worked my manhood left me utterly spellbound—an expert cock sucker in her element.  

I watched, captivated by how effortlessly Cheryl's head moved up and down, despite the firm grip of her lips on my shaft. That was entrancing enough, but when she slipped a hand between her thighs, I felt myself on the edge of losing control.

"Jesus Cheryl, you really are as skanky as I imagined you would be." 

She paused, lifting her gaze to meet mine, a sly smile playing on her lips. "You of all people should know that when someone loves what they're doing, they tend to do it well. And I really, really love sucking cock." 

I winced slightly as she gave a teasing squeeze at the base, her mischievous grin widening. "I've waited too long to get my hands on you," she murmured, her voice dripping with intent. "And believe me, I'm not going to stop until I've made you cum."

"If you keep that up, it might happen a lot sooner than you're expecting," I admitted through gritted teeth as she teasingly let her teeth graze over my sensitive rim.

"Don't hold back on my account, Dan—that's exactly what I want to see," Cheryl growled with determination, her eyes blazing with intent. With that, she added fuel to the fire inside me. "Maybe this will speed things up," she said, and without hesitation, moving her hands, effortlessly freeing her breasts from the confines of her bra in a confident, deliberate motion.

Then, without warning, she hawked, letting a glistening glob of saliva land perfectly in her cleavage. It trickled downward in a tantalising line, and she locked eyes with me, one eyebrow arched in mock challenge, a sardonic smile curving her lips.  

"Well," she drawled, her tone dripping with playful provocation, "what are you waiting for... an invitation?" 

I watched in stunned amazement as Cheryl pressed her soft, supple breasts around my rigid manhood. The slick trail of saliva created just the right amount of lubrication, allowing me to begin a steady, deliberate pumping motion, the sensation utterly mesmerising.

"That's it lover, pound my girls, pound them 'til you can't hold on anymore. I want to see you cover them with cream," Cheryl commanded. Then she bent her head forward. With every upward pump, my lolly bumped against her lips, each contract eliciting a small moan from my hairdresser.

"That's it, Dan," Cheryl commanded, her voice dripping with raw desire. "Fuck my tits. Pound them until you can't hold back anymore. I want to see you cover them with cream."  

Then, she leaned forward, her lips tantalisingly close. With every upward pump, my cock brushed against her mouth, each gentle contact pulling a soft, breathy moan from my hairdresser. Cheryl's reaction sent shivers down my spine, heightening the moment's intensity.

Obeying her commands, I increased my pace, thrusting my cock harder and faster between Cheryl's perfectly formed tits. Her steady gaze never wavered, her eyes filled with lustful determination, as she pressed her breasts together, intensifying the friction around my slick, throbbing manhood.  

"Oh god," I growled, my voice strained. "I'm gonna cum."  

"Don't stop, Dan!" she cried urgently, her voice thick with lust. "Cover me with spunk."  

Her breathless panting, mixed with my guttural grunts, reverberated through the empty salon, amplifying the heat of the moment as we raced towards the point of no return. Then my body tensed, and with a groan, I released the first thick jet of spunk, my body convulsing vigorously.  

The thick, creamy rope flew further than expected, painting Cheryl's face in a trail that streaked across her cheeks and lips. She moaned softly, her tongue darting out to lick my offering from her lips, just as my second load splashed over her neck and chin.

Before I could unleash more onto her, Cheryl seized my cock, her grip firm and demanding, and redirected it toward her chest.  

"Cover me, Lover," she demanded, her voice rising with desire as she vigorously wanked me. 

"I want it all." With each tug, she extracted more sperm from my balls, coating her proffered breasts in thick, creamy trails, turning her ample mounds into something that resembled perfectly frosted cupcakes. Even as the thick liquid trickled towards her cleavage, Cheryl continued wanking my cock. She worked me relentlessly, extracting every last drop from my balls, until her breasts, neck, and face glistened with cum. 

Eventually, I had nothing left to give. Despite Cheryl's enthusiastic tugging, only one last drop of spunk oozed from my glistening helmet. As I took in her handiwork, Cheryl bent her head forward and ran her tongue over my sensitive dome. A violent shudder coursed through me, and I was grateful for the counter behind me—I wasn't sure my legs could hold me up as I watched my hairdresser eagerly clean my cock.  

"Hmm, you taste delicious, Dan," Cheryl grinned, exaggeratedly smacking her lips as she wiped the remaining semen from her face and neck. "I want more," she smiled, her voice thick with hunger. Cheryl's fingers dipped into her cleavage, collecting the sticky remnants, and my gaze was locked on her as she slowly licked the substance from her fingers, her eyes closed in delight as she savoured every drop.  

Then she stood up, wrapping an arm around my neck and pulling me in. Her lips pressed against mine with a fierce intensity, and I instinctively parted my lips, welcoming her probing tongue.  

Her slick, sticky breasts pressed into my bare chest, her erect nipples grazing my skin as the salty tang of her tongue teased my taste buds. We stood there, lost in the heat of the moment, kissing like time had ceased to exist. My hands wandered down, grabbing and kneading her firm bum through her leggings, while she slowly ground her crotch against my thigh, each movement stoking the fire between us.

Although I'd never admit it aloud, as my hand brushed against the delicate lace tracing Cheryl's hips, a flicker of doubt surged through me. I was confident, sure of the connection we shared—but the question lingered: could I give her what she needed?

I took a steadying breath, my fingers slipping beneath the fabric as she lifted her hips in silent invitation. Her scent was intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and raw desire that made my pulse quicken.

"You're full of surprises," she teased, her voice soft but laced with anticipation.

"And you've only scratched the surface," I replied, a playful grin tugging at my lips. With a deliberate motion, I slid the lace down Cheryl's thighs and let it fall to the floor.

The salon's soft lighting cast shadows across Cheryl's body, a masterpiece of curves and delicate lines, and as I trailed my fingers along the inside of her thigh, I savoured the way her breath hitched with every movement.

Grasping her thighs, I gently spread them apart, resting one on my shoulder while letting the other hang from the counter. The heat and anticipation she radiated were almost palpable as she lay there naked except for her bra. The sight of Cheryl's glistening pussy sent a rush of heat through me, and I leaned forward, my lips brushing against her inner thigh—a deliberate tease. I heard her whimper, and my eyes flicked up to meet hers. She was watching me, her pupils dark with longing. 

Cheryl gasped at the first flick of my tongue into her opening, her body shivering beneath my touch. Her flavour was intoxicating—sweet, earthy, and uniquely hers. I traced my tongue in a slow, deliberate path along her folds, pleased how Cheryl instinctively arched her hips toward me, up to her clitoris, and swirled my tongue around her swollen bud. 

"Oh, God," Cheryl whispered, her voice trembling, as I playfully teased her, and she tangled her fingers into my hair. "Don't stop."

I smiled against her, her quiet plea spurring me on. I alternated between gentle licks and firmer strokes, listening to the soft, breathy moans that escaped her lips. Every sound she made felt like a reward, a sign that I was unravelling her piece by piece.

But I wasn't content to stop there. I traced my tongue across Cheryl's perineum, and before she could respond, I circled her sphincter. Her breath caught sharply as I continued to lick and kiss her sphincter, but she didn't ask me to stop. Encouraged by her willingness, I pressed the tip of my tongue into her starfish, testing her boundaries and relishing the way she responded to every movement.

"Oh Dan…" she moaned, her voice breaking with need, and I felt her thigh tremble on my shoulders.

I slowed for a moment, savouring the way her body reacted to my touch. "Cheryl, if you don't want me to go..." I murmured against her skin, my voice low and reassuring. 

A soft giggle reached my ears. "If I hadn't wanted you to go there, I would have stopped you earlier," Cheryl responded breathlessly. "I haven't had that done to me for a very, very long time. Jesus, that felt good."

Feeling pleased with my boldness, I resumed what I was doing, taking my time, feeling her hips move instinctively to match the rhythm I set. Every breath she took was a mixture of gasps and soft whimpers, her fingers tightening in my hair as if anchoring herself to the moment. The sounds she made were quiet at first but grew louder with every flick of my tongue, every calculated movement designed to drive her closer to the edge.

Her thighs trembled, and her breathing quickened, her body reacting with an intensity that sent a surge of satisfaction through me. I moved with purpose, enjoying every second, savouring the taste of her nectar that lingered on my lips.  

"Dan…" she moaned again, her voice cracking under the weight of her desire. It wasn't just the sound of my name; it was a plea, a prayer, a confession all in one. I glanced up, watching the way her body arched, her back lifting slightly off the counter, her head tilting back against the mirror. She was stunning—completely lost in the moment, her vulnerability and pleasure on full display.  

I didn't stop, didn't let up. My hands tightened around Cheryl's thighs, holding her in place as I gave her everything I had. Her reactions were my guide, her soft cries and shuddering breaths leading me exactly where she needed me to go. I alternated between teasing her clit and exploring her tight starfish, ensuring the moment consumed Cheryl completely.

"I… I'm close," Cheryl managed to whisper, her voice strained, her body tense.  

Hearing her say it ignited something deep within me. I doubled down, focusing all my attention on her, the urgency in her voice driving me to bring her to that final peak. Her breathing turned erratic, and the hand in my hair tugged sharply, her fingers curling as if she couldn't hold back any longer.

And then, it happened. Cheryl's body tensed, her thighs clamping around my head as a wave of ecstasy crashed over her. She cried out, the sound raw and unrestrained, her body trembling as she rode out the pleasure. I stayed with her, not stopping until the tension in her body eased and her cries turned into soft, breathless murmurs.  

Finally, I pulled back, pressing a lingering kiss to her inner thigh before looking up at her. Cheryl was sprawled across the counter, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her skin flushed and glistening. Her lips parted slightly as she struggled to catch her breath, and her eyes fluttered open to meet mine.  

"Holy… God," she whispered, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across her face. "Where have you been all my life?"  

I chuckled, straightening to my full height. I reached forward, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead. "Right here, waiting for you to notice," I said softly, leaning down to kiss her. The taste of her lingered on my lips as I deepened the kiss, the moment tender, a stark contrast to what we'd just shared.

As our lips parted, Cheryl exhaled a soft laugh, her eyes twinkling with affection and mischief. "Well, consider yourself noticed," she said, raising herself from the counter. Then, as she stood in front of me, she reached for my erection. After giving it a few good tugs, she turned to face the mirror. Looking at me through my reflection, she pushed her backside towards me and said, "Now, I seem to remember you saying something about making me your woman." Her eyes sparkled like diamonds. "Now, why don't you use that big cock of yours, and show me what you mean," and then playfully wiggled her bum. 

I stepped closer, and she grabbed my manhood, guiding it between her buttocks. She placed my swollen helmet against her puckered starfish and playfully pushed her hips towards me. She looked back at me through the mirror, her eyes dark with desire, a mischievous smirk on her lips. 

"Do that again, Darling, and I won't be responsible for what happens next," I chuckled. She pushed back again, and this time I felt the tip of my manhood gently push into her entrance. Our gazes met in the mirror, and I raised my eyebrows inquiringly.

She tightened her grip on my cock and repositioned it between her glistening folds. "Next time, Dan, that's a promise," she giggled, "But right now, I want you here," and ground her pussy onto my cock. 

Although there was nothing I wouldn't have done for her at that moment, the thought of Cheryl taking my cock deep into her arse had been one of my favourite fantasies over the last few weeks, and I tried very hard to hide my disappointment. 

"You damn prick teaser, Cheryl. You deserve a bloody good spanking for leading me on," I growled, and playfully slapped her right buttock. 

"Ooooh, harder," she giggled, wiggling her bum delightfully. I did as she asked and was rewarded with a high-pitched squeal of delight. "Again," Cheryl pleaded, looking at me through the mirror, "don't stop."

I continued spanking her, and with every slap, she wiggled her bum, grinding her juicy labia onto my cock, which only heightened my arousal. Another couple of hard slaps gave her bum a nice red glow, and grabbing her hips, I pulled back and positioned the tip of my cock into her slippery slit. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes brimming with desire, she spoke the words I wanted to hear. 

"Take me, Dan, make me yours." 

The husky tone confirmed her desire, as did the way she playfully swayed her shiny backside, while she pushed herself onto my manhood. I felt my prick slide into her, and gripping her hips more firmly, I didn't hold back. The intensity of the moment drove me forward, and I thrust my cock with a smooth, deliberate motion into her hot, wetness. Cheryl's pussy swallowed my rigid shaft with ease, but her sharp intake of breath sent shivers down my spine. After slamming my pelvis against her buttocks, I started grinding against her, mashing my wiry pubic hair against her soft, rosy flesh.

"Oh, God," Cheryl gasped, her fingers clutching the edge of the counter as I continued to push against her.

"You like it hard, don't you?" I demanded, my lips against her ear. Cheryl nodded enthusiastically, and in the mirror, I saw she had her eyes closed and was biting her bottom lip. Once more, Cheryl moaned, and slowly I began withdrawing my fleshy spear. 

"Again," she croaked, as I pulled my steely rod from her pussy, and deliberately slapped it against her backside. I didn't hesitate and did exactly as she asked, thrusting my cock hard into her, eliciting another erotic moan. "Please..." she whimpered, "don't stop, fuck me hard, I wanna cum." 

I chuckled at her candid plea, and giving her bum another playful slap, I pushed my hips forward, and felt Cheryl's cunt tighten around my erection. I set a steady rhythm, each thrust deliberate and powerful. The sounds of our bodies colliding filled the room, as did her moans and my grunts. Her cries came freely, unrestrained, the sheer pleasure evident in every sound that escaped her lips. Her reflection in the mirror was intoxicating—the way her mouth fell open, her head tilting back, her flushed skin glowing with arousal.  

"You feel so good," I growled, my voice rough with need, reaching for one of her breasts. I began kneading it, my fingers digging into the soft flesh, until I heard Cheryl demand that I pinch her nipple. Immediately, I took the swollen bud between my fingers and began, tweaking and squeezing it hard.

Her response was a throaty moan as she pressed back against me, allowing me to do the same to her other breast. She covered my hands with hers and arched her back as we continued to fuck. Suddenly, she shuddered and grabbed the countertop to steady herself. 

"Oh God, I'm so close," she murmured, and she pushed her arse backwards to meet my thrust. I released her breasts and resumed my grip on her hips, pulling her closer, driving myself deeper into her rich honeypot. Her breathing grew erratic, and her moans escalated into cries of pure ecstasy. I watched her through the mirror, completely lost in the pleasure of the moment. Her thighs quivered as I adjusted the angle slightly, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.  

"Right there," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "Don't stop."  

I didn't. I drove into Chery's cunt, harder and faster, each thrust intending to bring her closer to oblivion. I heard her cries turn into incoherent gasps as her body trembled, and I felt her pussy tightening around my cock.  

The way she clenched the counter, her knuckles white with the intensity, only spurred me on. "Cum for me," I urged, my voice deep and commanding.  

Her entire body tensed, and a raw, primal scream tore from her throat as she shattered beneath me. Her legs shook, her back arching as wave after wave of pleasure consumed her. Hot sweet nectar consumed my manhood as I held her firmly, taking her weight as her body convulsed with aftershocks as she rode out the tsunami of lust. Cheryl's body trembled against mine, the aftermath of her climax still rippling through her as she steadied herself on the counter. 

I honestly thought our encounter was over, but instead of pulling away, Cheryl slowly straightened, her eyes glinting with both satisfaction and hunger. Her chest rose and fell as we locked eyes. A sly, knowing smile curved her lips as she turned and leaned back against the counter, her body still flushed and glistening. 

She reached between her legs, and traced a finger along her juicy pussy lips, poking through her shiny labia "I want to watch you fuck me," she said softly, her voice low but commanding. "I want to watch how you pound your cock into me, and I want to see the look in your eyes when you cum inside me."  

Her words and the heat in her gaze sent a jolt through me as she lifted herself onto the counter. She leaned back slightly, her hands bracing herself and spreading her thighs, her body open and inviting, she looked at me, her eyes sparkling. Gripping my erection, I started towards her, but her following words almost stopped me in my tracks.

"Wank yourself," she ordered, "I want to see you masturbate for me." A small playful smile appeared as I moved my hand, her eyes widening when I pulled my foreskin down, exposing my swollen dome. 

"Is this what you want to see, Cheryl?" I demanded as I tugged at my engorged manhood. She nodded eagerly and beckoned me to come closer. I stepped between her splayed thighs and watched her replace my hand with her own. 

"I love wanking a man's cock," she said huskily. "It makes me feel powerful, like I'm in control," she continued, her eyes never leaving mine, the intensity in her expression holding me captive. 

"That's it," she whispered, her voice low and sultry, as I caressed the insides of her thighs. Fascinated, I watched how she guided my swollen dome between her glistening folds, teasing herself, while I placed her thighs in the nook of my elbows.

I thrust into her, slow at first, savouring every inch of her silky wetness, enjoying every gasp that escaped her lips. Cheryl leaned back slightly, propping herself on her hands, her eyes flicking between my face and her sex. The sight of her—so open, so completely vulnerable and yet, so consumed by lust—was intoxicating.  

"Just like that, don't hold back," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I want to see everything."  

I gripped her hips, guiding her to match my rhythm as I thrust into her, harder and deeper with every movement. Her moans spilt freely from her lips, and she didn't look away, her eyes locked onto mine as if she wanted to absorb every second of the moment.  

"Yessssss," she hissed, "fuck me."

Her words spurred me on, and I quickened my pace, each thrust drawing a soft cry from her lips. Cheryl's eyes never left mine, her expression shifting between pleasure and awe as she watched me lose myself in her. She grabbed my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin as she arched her back, giving me even more of herself. "You feel so good," she breathed, her voice trembling. "I love watching a man fuck me."  

Her words sent a surge of pleasure through me, spurring me to move faster, harder, the need to give her everything consuming me. The connection between us was electric, the intensity of the moment building with every movement. Cheryl wrapped her long legs around my waist, pulling me deeper into her body. As I continued pumping my cock into her pussy, Cheryl's cries grew louder, mingling with the sound of our bodies moving together, the room filled with the raw energy of our connection.  

That's it," she gasped, her voice barely audible over the sound of our bodies colliding. "Don't stop," she pleaded, her head tilting back, exposing the curve of her neck. I leaned in, kissing along her throat, my hands gripping her thighs tightly as I drove into her with everything I had. The look in her eyes—wild, unrestrained as her body tensed around me, her pleasure rekindling with every thrust- pushed me closer to the edge.  

"Cheryl…" I groaned, my voice rough and strained. 

Her gaze locked onto mine, her lips parting as she whispered, "Don't stop, I want to feel you cum inside me." I quickened my pace, enjoying the build-up of pressure, savouring Cheryl’s words, her body, and her unwavering gaze. 

Finally, it was all too much. My rhythm faltered, and for the last time, I buried my cock deep inside Cheryl’s cunt. I threw my head back, releasing a long guttural moan, as my climax crashed over me in a wave of pure ecstasy. My body jerked wildly, each convulsion sending throes of hot spunk into her silken sheath.

As I came, I watched this beautiful woman watching me, her eyes wide and filled with wonder as she witnessed my climax. She reached up, brushing her fingers along my jaw, grounding me in the moment, her touch a perfect contrast to the raw intensity coursing through me.

As the last waves of pleasure subsided, I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against hers. Cheryl's hands moved to the back of my neck, her fingers trailing softly through my hair as she smiled up at me.  

"That was… You were incredible," Cheryl murmured, her voice soft but full of awe. Our breaths mingled, the room still charged with the intensity of what we'd just shared. I kissed her deeply, savouring the warmth of her lips against mine. "You're incredible," I replied, my voice still heavy with emotion.  

She grinned, playful as always. "You told me you'd make me yours," she teased, her tone light but her eyes filled with affection. "And you weren't joking."  

I felt a smile tug at my lips as I brushed a strand of hair from her flushed face. "You weren't so bad yourself, Cheryl," I said, meaning every word.  

We stayed there for a while, wrapped in each other, content in the aftermath of what we'd shared. There was no rush to move, no need to break the moment; reality would come soon enough. For now, it was just us, lost in the lingering pleasure of being completely and utterly together.