Just another day at the salon. Nothing much happened in small-towns- a line that meets with vigorous nods from nearly every audience that has watched a movie staged in one. Despondency sets in easier with observations like that.
I arranged my counter, washed the brushes and made sure the scissors were sharpened for the day. Maybe Mrs. Bannerjee would come in for her monthly perm today, and perked up at the thought of potential gossip.
I checked the back rooms where the waxings and body massages were dealt with and made sure everything was wiped to a shine.
Bachcha, I need a Brazilian. Do you people do it out here? You know? The waxing thing… down there? With a start I turned to look at the most stunning woman I had ever seen.
Working at a beauty salon made you an expert judge of feminine aesthetics by default, but my exposure to raw feminine beauty was limited to magazines. This woman would scare the Beyonce`s and Rekhas of the world into meek devotion.
I was ready to babble myself. I roused myself though, I was old enough to pass off for a sophisticated girl and not the dawdling villager I was sure to sound like if I continued staring at her.
Yes ma’am. We do provide Brazilians, although I am the only one with the magical fingers here (did I just say that?!). She sized me up with her large, long-lashed eyes, lingering on my hands and to my chagrin, I blushed. I’m sure she noticed it. I wanted to bury myself!
Instead, I busied myself with neatening the massage table. I asked her to step out of her trendy skirt and have a wash. I set about preparing the wax and wondered who the lady was. She exuded an air of sophistication and smelled better than the most expensive massage oils we kept. She didn’t look like any of the local women who frequented the salon though and I wondered if she was a vacationing NRI.
I turned towards the table and nearly gasped out loud. She was completely naked. All I had asked her to do was bare her bottoms, and there she was, spread out for my mental enjoyment. I silently offered a prayer to whoever was up there and thinking about women who lusted after other women.
She was a talker and and proceeded to tell me about herself while I silently admired her body and took my own time working on her.
I tuned her out and concentrated on her amazingly perky breasts. Forty-five-year-old breasts don’t look like that! Her abdominals were encased in just a slight bump. I was sure my fingers wouldn’t sink in if I touched it. I touched it with the pretense of supporting myself. Oh yes, it was wonderfully taut!
I began trimming her hair so that I could apply the wax better. I couldn’t resist brushing her delicious-looking button every now-and-then. The cold metal of the scissors simply had to have an effect on her and by the end of my trimming, she was glistening.
Don’t think I don’t know what you are upto my dear girl. I jumped. I looked at her and saw her smiling with her eyes closed. Please continue. I let out a mad grin. What more encouragement did I need! The regular customers wouldn’t come in for another hour, so what the hell.
I slowly wiped her juices and dried her cunny to apply the wax. A few deft swipes of the cloth and there she was, glistening pink and looking good enough to sink my teeth into.
I began massaging the baby oil in. Slow, rhythmic strokes. Light kneadings, my thumbs going in a vee from the base of her lips, trailing along them, to just below her now erect button. The light persipartion on her skin made me want to lick her from her toe upwards. I licked my lips instead and watched her nipples harden.
I was enjoying the effect my hands were having on this gorgeous lady. I continued to massage her labia, the soft skin around it, her lower belly and the base of her toned butt. The cool cat began squirming when I dipped the tip of my finger a little way into her. She was incredibly wet. I wanted to taste it, her, everywhere.
Suck me girl, but come closer. I want your butt where my hands can reach it. Now I can’t be the only one having fun, can I?
Oh wow! This was too good to be true, but why waste such a good opportunity? Who knows when I would get a customer like this apparent virago again.
I sidled closer and her hands snaked into my skirt and found me. I think I was as wet as she was, if not wetter.
Her hands were fantastic! Slender fingers with wicked nails that knew just where to rake me and pinch me. My breasts were bursting from my bra cups. I wish I had worn those fancy demi-cups poor Prashant had gifted me for Valentine’s Day- at least my nipples would be free.
Her hands got insistent and probed me deeper and I took her glistening nub in my mouth. This was insane. We were both gasping- me through my sucking, she through her lips that she was biting to keep from moaning loud.
I licked her inside-out. My one hand played deeper into her cunny while the other tweaked her nipples and cupped her breasts. She was close, I could feel it. I fingered her faster. I was surprised at how naturally this came to me. Not bad for a first time, not bad at all.
She was frantic by now. She pulled me closer by my shirt, unbuttoned me and yanked my cups down. She took me in her mouth and fingered me deeper.
I was sweating and bucking and moaning like some crazed wanton. I climbed on to the table and onto her. We made a perfect sixty-nine. We began eating each other in earnest now.
Probe, push, lick, slurp, bite, nibble… and within minutes we were grinding our cunnys into each other’s faces and exploding our juices and minds out. I collapsed onto her slick body, smiling at my spent senses while she smoothened my skirt and caressed my butt with those incredible fingers.
I grinned at my conclusion. You make things happen in small-towns.
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