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I had a hard time in school. I took the exams when I was little, and they showed, quite definitively as it turned out, that I was not even close to being college-bound material. I didn’t know that the tests were a crock, that what they really measured was cultural knowledge and the ability to take tests, and so I just passively accepted the results. All of my life I have accepted what people tell me, especially if they are men. Often the men are wrong, but what can I do? My naiveté in listening and obeying them makes me culpable, I’m sorry to say.
At some point during my early teen years, in consultation with my counselor, I decided the career for me was to be a beautician. I would cut hair and style it, wash it while giving the woman a nice head massage, maybe continue with her shoulders and neck if need be, cut her hair the way she would ask for it to be cut, blow dry it, and perhaps try to sell her some products of the beauty salon. I was good at it, both at cutting hair flawlessly, and at sales. I was a quick learner and I always knew all of the latest styles. I figured maybe someday I could go into coloring hair. There was more money in that.
I also quickly learned that if you’re sensual when washing a person’s hair, it can be a non-threatening erotic experience. It relaxes people, puts them at ease, and makes it easier to cut their hair. I became really, really good at giving a sensual hair wash, I can assure you. My clients loved it and they always asked for me by name.
The thing about hair is that most everyone has some, and it keeps growing and so within a certain elapsed time, it always needs to be cut again. Hairdressing will never go out of style. And as women age, they get gray, and the demand for colorists will never ebb, but only continue to grow. Nowadays, dyeing your hair is also becoming more common for men. In the business world looking old and gray is a great way to be forced into premature retirement. It all made sense to me, even without a bleeping college education.
I decided to branch out a bit from my skill with women’s hair, and also learn to cut men’s hair. Men are easier than women, but I’m a perfectionist and I felt I needed to practice before doing it for money at the salon.
I began with one of my old boyfriends. We were definitely former, with a capital F, but I also knew he still lusted for me.
“What’s in it for me?” he asked when I approached him, offering him a haircut.
“You get a free haircut, Ethan. You’ll save money,” I said.
“Why are you offering me a free haircut? What’s the catch? You want my body some more?” and he crudely stroked his cock through his pants, in case I was brain dead and could not understand English.
“I’m branching out from cutting women to cutting men, and I need some practice. Ethan, I’m over you. Deal with it,” I said. I was grossed out by his crude behavior.
“You want to practice on me? Do you think I’m stupid?” Ethan said.
“It’s free,” I said again. “Think of the money you’ll save.” Ethan was a penny pinching cheapskate.
“Think of the money I’d save if you put out for me one more time? I wouldn’t have to pay a whore,” Ethan said, licking his lips while he looked me over, up and down. Why did I ever like this guy? Oh yeah, I remembered, as he whipped out his absolutely huge cock. He was already hard. He was hard just from being near me? In a moment of extreme weakness, I felt flattered.
“Tell you what,” Ethan said. “I’ll let you cut my hair if you promise to give me one of your patented blowjobs afterwards.” I give the best blowjobs in the county. All my former lovers say so.
“The patent’s pending,” I said, and I giggled. Ethan smiled broadly.
I wasn’t stupid. He sat for a haircut first. Then I gave him the blowjob from heaven. He wanted more, and remembering how his cock felt inside me, I was tempted, but I said no.
“If I recruit a few more guys, can I fuck you?” he said.
“Five more men, and then well yes, okay,” I said. “Don’t promise them anything. The blowjob was only for you.”
Ethan failed miserably. He wanted sex nevertheless, but by then my moment of weakness had passed, and my lust no longer controlled my brain. He got nothing.
I needed to cut more men than just Ethan. Who could I ask? I swallowed my pride and approached my brother. I’m nineteen, and he’s twenty-one.
“Can I cut your hair?” I asked him.
“How much do you want?” he replied. My brother always was a cheapskate; not as bad as Ethan was, but nevertheless he was one. Money comes hard in small town Indiana.
“Nothing. It’s free,” I said.
“What’s the catch?” he asked.
“Well, you’re my brother, first of all. Taking money from you would be weird,” I said. I did not add however that it might be pleasurable! “Second, you’ll be only the second man whose hair I’ve ever cut,” I added. Full disclosure, that’s me. “I cut Etan’s hair, and he raved about my cut,” I quickly added.
“No way. I’m not going to be some guinea pig for you. I value my appearance, you know,” my brother Zeke said.
“The first was Ethan, güvenilir bahis as I said. Have you seen him? He looks great with my haircut,” I said.
“That little fuck Ethan let you cut his hair?” Zeke asked. “Why?”
“It was free. He’s always been cheap,” I said.
“That’s all you did for him?” Zeke asked. “He used to brag about your blowjobs, you know.”
“He always was disgusting in that way. Anyway, he’s history now,” I said.
“What did you ever see in him, anyway?” Zeke asked. “He’s a boor.”
“How about if I pay you for a haircut? I really need to practice,” I said, avoiding Zeke’s inappropriate question.
“No amount of money is worth it to me,” Zeke said. The man had no sympathy for me, and even more lacking was his empathy. I adored my brother, don’t get me wrong, but he was far from perfect.
“Some brother you are,” I said, dejected and almost on the verge of tears. If my own brother would not let me cut his hair, and a former lover like Ethan extorted sex for the privilege, what was I going to do to get more experience?
“I’ve got an idea, Tiff,” he said. I hated the nickname ‘Tiff,’ preferring the full Tiffany, but now was not the time to point that out, yet again, to Zeke.
“I’m listening,” I said,
Zeke paused for a minute. “Remember that newspaper story we saw about a beauty salon upstate in that college town?” he said.
I knew the story. Zeke had never gotten over it. I think he was pissed he never got to the salon in time to take advantage of the offer. It was one of his big regrets in life. That should tell you something about my brother!
A beauty salon in some college town in northern Indiana had doubled their prices for one day only, and the hairdressers cut men’s hair while topless. The picture in the paper showed the line of men down the block, waiting to get in to pay double the normal price for a haircut, given to them by a topless beautician.
I was only nineteen but I had been around the block a few times with various guys. I wasn’t a slut or a tramp or anything, but if a guy was respectful and showed me a good time, and I was attracted to him, well on the second or third date I showed him a good time, too, if you get my drift. I acquired a bit of a reputation I guess, but I didn’t care. If you’re not smart, and you’re not that pretty either, you’ve got to do something to get ahead, right? It’s not rocket science, after all.
I answered Zeke. “You mean the story about the beauty salon that for one day only, it offered topless haircuts?” I said.
I thought about it. My previous lovers, and also those boys with whom I made out but did not have sex with, all of them loved my boobs. I suppose I do have nice boobs. They’re just boobs, though, and so what if my brother perves off them while I cut his hair? It did not seem like a big deal to me. At least he was not asking for a blowjob?
Zeke had accidentally seen my boobs a few years ago when I was getting dressed at home and he walked in on me. That happened just a tiny bit too often, now that I think about it. I suspect he has a thing for my boobs. I can use that to my advantage, can’t I?
“Okay,” I said.
“Really? You’ll cut my hair topless? Your own brother?” Zeke said. I nodded. Zeke was really surprised! I had agreed too easily, I guess. After having to give Ethan a blowjob to get to cut his hair, this seemed like small potatoes in comparison.
“Cool!” he exclaimed.
I began to think that maybe I was sending the wrong message by agreeing to this? Maybe this was not so smart? Give a man your boobs and he might want more. Give him more, and eventually you’ll be giving away the whole enchilada, right? More like he’ll be giving you his entire enchilada, I thought, and I almost giggled.
“Deal, then?” I asked. “Just to be clear: no touching, no sex, Zeke. Just a topless haircut, okay?”
“Deal,” Zeke said.
“Tell your friends, will you? I’m offering free, topless haircuts. Be sure to tell them I have a beautician’s degree, okay? And to be clear: Just haircuts, no touching, and most certainly no sex, okay?” I said. Zeke nodded.
“I’m first,” Zeke said. “Hey, since I’m your brother and all, can I have something more special?”
That made me nervous. “Like what?”
“Maybe a hand job right after the cut? I hear you’re really good,” he said.
“No!” I exclaimed. “What part of NO SEX do you not understand??!!”
Then I calmed down. I really needed experience. I needed to cut Zeke’s hair. “First of all, yes, I’m really good. I’m good across the board when it comes to sex, but remember I said ‘No Sex,’ and also, you’re my brother. Incest is a sin.”
“I guess you’re right. How about though, just for me, I get a nude haircut?” he asked.
In for a dime, in for a dollar. If I couldn’t trust my own brother on the question of no sex, who could I trust?
“Sure, I could do that. No touching, and definitely no sex, though,” I said.
“Agreed,” he said. Zeke looked as though he had just won the lottery. After all, he was finally going to get see all the charms of türkçe bahis his little sister. Full disclosure, so to speak. Why that got him so excited, I didn’t know. It all seemed gross to me, but hey, I had agreed to it, hadn’t I?
We scheduled the haircut for the next day at 3pm. I had my own apartment since my Mom and I fought constantly, and my Dad leered at me excessively. I could barely afford it, but I was squeaking by.
The big problem besides the near continuous fighting with Mom, was Dad. I was actually surprised Dad had not yet tried to seduce me, or even tried to take me by force. Yes, it was like that. I’m sure he wants sex with me, but that is never going to happen. Never, ever, ever. Not living with my parents was key to keeping at bay my Dad’s lust for me.
Zeke came over, and I was all set up and prepared.
“First I’ll wash your hair, Zeke,” I said.
“You’re wearing clothes,” Zeke said.
“I said I’d be nude for the haircut, Zeke. This is the preliminary hair wash,” I replied.
“I want you nude now, Tiff,” he said.
“Promise to call me Tiffany, not Tiff, and you can have the whole shebang with me nude,” I said.
“Can I be nude, too, Tiffany?” Zeke said, finally using my correct name. Okay, this ups the danger level, with both of us nude in my apartment. It’s too much of a risk. On the other hand, my own brother wouldn’t try anything. He’s a good man. Also, and most importantly, while he’d seen my breasts in past ‘accidents,’ I’d never seen his stuff, so I thought, why not?
“Go for it, brother,” I said. Zeke quickly stripped. I stole a glance at his equipment. Not bad, I thought. Maybe even better than Ethan! Girls are going to be happy when Zeke lays them. Then I thought that it was too bad Zeke was my brother. He’s a sexy guy and boy would it be nice to have that huge schlong inside me. It’s really a crying shame he’s my very own brother!
I stood in front of him. I have to strip anyway, so I might as well give him a show. Why not? I slowly removed all of my clothes, right in front of my own brother. I did it like a strip tease, moving my hips around, and giving him my backside when I removed my bra, then turning around with my hands over my boobs. My hands are small and my boobs are a bit large, but my nipples were covered, at least.
Zeke, always able to make any situation seem crude, sang the tune to some stripper music as I acted out the part for his private show.
I saw his flaccid cock grow and become hard as I removed my clothes. When I was down to my panties, he was rock hard and looking mighty tempting, I have to say. I removed my panties painfully slowly, taking a solid two minutes to push them down, and Zeke appeared to be enjoying every second of it. I was tempted to finger myself just a little, but this was business, and besides, Zeke was my bleeping brother!
I had things set up so that Zeke’s head was next to a bowl on a table, and I washed his hair, giving his head what I hoped was a great massage. Judging from the appreciative groans from my brother, it was indeed a wonderful massage. Since he was naked, too, it was easy to continue the massage at his shoulders and the top half of his back. It was obvious Zeke was loving every minute of it!
I decided to tease him, too. I had Zeke in my power for once, and I was having fun. I moved around to Zeke’s front and gave his chest a massage while he stared at my gently bouncing tits. I continued the massage right down to include his nice, hard abs. My brother had a great six pack! I went all the way down his abdomen and stopped just short of his now rock-hard cock, “mistakenly” brushing just the tip of his long, hard, thick, and hopelessly tempting cock.
I took a deep breath. Get a grip on yourself, I silently scolded myself.
“Your hair is now nice and clean. I’ll begin cutting it now,” I said.
“Tiffany, that was wonderful. You are one talented beautician,” he said.
I smiled. I had mirrors set up all around, so that Zeke could watch my boobs, and for that matter my entire naked body, back and front, from all angles, even when I was standing behind him to cut his hair. I went to work, and concentrated on cutting his hair, forgetting that we were both naked. My entire universe just then was the hair on my brother’s head. He had let it get much too long. Hair was falling down all around him. Some fell onto his cock. It was all I could do to keep from giggling.
Zeke however was missing nothing. He wasn’t missing a single, solitary thing. His only problem seemed to be, should he study my boobs, my sexy ass (as he calls it), or my pussy? I guess he ended up studying all three!
I knew Zeke was aching to touch me, especially after that wonderful massage I had given both his head and his torso, but I think he did not want to risk a false move with my rapid-fire use of the scissors. His vanity triumphed over his lust. A good hairdresser is fast and flawless. That’s me. I knew I was good, but still, I needed the experience on the hair of men.
“Okay, Zeke, what do you think?” I held up a hand mirror so that güvenilir bahis siteleri he could also see the back of his head.
“This is the best haircut I’ve ever had. I’m serious Tiff, I mean Tiffany, not counting how sexy and pretty you look, the haircut itself is great. You really have talent, you know?” he said.
“Thanks, Zeke. I’m glad you like it. I’m also glad you think I’m pretty,” I said.
“You’re amazingly sexy, too,” he said.
“Oh, Zeke. You’d think any woman giving you a massage, while naked, was sexy,” I said.
“Yeah, I probably would. Give me some credit, though. Even accounting for that, I think you’re hyper sexy,” he said.
Most girls like flattery. Maybe all girls like flattery. But in my case, those words, coming from my brother who at times seems to have dedicated his life to making mine unpleasant, came with powerful meaning.
“You look so pretty, can I have a kiss?” Zeke asked.
“Sure! Thanks for being my first!” I said. I kissed him on the forehead, by boobs dangling dangerously closely to his mouth.
“Oh come on, Tiffany. My forehead, really?” Zeke complained.
I kissed him on the cheek.
“I meant a real kiss, Tiffany,” he said. “On my lips.”
“Oh,” I said. I gave it a moment’s thought. Well, it couldn’t hurt, right? I should explain. I’m a waif of a woman, being five feet, four inches tall, and weighing only 108 and a half pounds, and probably half of my weight is in my boobs, to boot. Zeke in contrast is a muscular six feet tall and he’s as strong as an ox. He’s probably twice my weight.
As I leaned over him to give him a kiss, he lifted me up off the ground as if I were a child’s toy and placed me on his lap. My legs straddled his legs, leaving my pussy wide open on his lap. It felt deliciously naughty.
“Thanks, Zeke” I said sarcastically. “Now it’s easy to kiss you.”
I planted a kiss on his lips. He kissed me back wonderfully and we began kissing in earnest. Zeke opened his mouth and so I opened mine, and we French kissed, and I got aroused and a little wet down there.
Zeke ran his hands up and down my naked back as we kissed and it felt wonderful. Zeke’s touch was firm and gentle at the same time. He had powerful hands but he could control them to be as gentle as anyone could ever ask. His hands went around to my front and as I sat in his lap kissing him, his hands went to my boobs and he fondled them lovingly, better than any of my half dozen or so previous lovers had ever done.
I felt his cock pressing up against my ass. I began to get alarmed, so I got off his lap.
“Thanks again, Zeke. This was fun. I guess with us both naked we were getting a little carried away towards the end,” I said. “No touching, no sex, remember?”
Zeke got up too, and he smiled. He came over to me and he took me in his arms, and then in a moment of perfection itself he leaned in and kissed me beautifully. I melted in his strong arms, as he pulled me into him, my boobs crushing into his strong, hairy chest, rippling with muscles. Zeke was, just then, the sexiest man on Earth.
I had to get away to save myself from incestuous ruin. I sank to my knees, thereby slipping under Zeke’s powerful arms to make my escape, but when I got to my knees, Zeke’s huge, erect cock stared at me, taking control of my mind. It wasn’t just that it was long and hard and thick, already something in and of itself, but it was also gorgeous.
It was calling to me, it being fascinating, and if fact, even mesmerizing. Without being able to think, or to engage in any intelligent reflection, I took Zeke’s cock into my mouth, making tender love to it with my tongue.
Zeke stood as still as a stone, and silent, as my tongue danced around the large, purple head of his cock. I think he was afraid if he spoke or moved at all, the spell would be broken and I would wake up and realize the insanity of what I was doing. I think he might even have been holding his breath.
My guess is that he was right. As it was, though, my hand went to his balls and to the base of his cock as my mouth pleasured the head and the top half of his cock. I was not one of those girls who was able to deep throat. I think it’s over rated, anyway. Maybe, though, that’s just sour grapes?
I had told Zeke that a hand job was out of the question. This was however a blowjob, now, wasn’t it? That, we had not discussed. I’d cleverly never said a blowjob was out of the question, although it did involve touching, of course, and unless you’re President Clinton, a blowjob is sex. I’d like to say I was giving him the blowjob out of gratitude for trusting me enough to let me cut his hair, but in truth, this was just pure lust. I was turned on to such an extent that any kind of ability for reasoned thought had temporarily left my brain.
I did wake up, however, when Zeke told me he was about to cum. Oh My God, I thought, what am I doing? I’m blowing my own brother? How can this be? Before I had time to think about the magnitude of what I was doing, however, I felt jet after jet of cum explode into my mouth, hitting my tonsils and filling my mouth completely. I swallowed so that my mouth could hold it all. Still, nevertheless some of it spilled out onto my boobs. I continued to swallow. Zeke’s cock began to go flaccid, and I let it drop from my mouth.
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