"Kamehameha's Revenge"
A Fantasy
"What are you burden on the weekend?" she asked me, as she massaged my scalp.
One of those customary vacuous hairdresser questions, I planning.
"Oh, not much. Maybe seize a movie on Saturday dark. No plans, actually", I said, as I enjoyed the hunch of her nails burning into my controller. Once or twofold, though, I opened my eyes and found for my part looking straight up from the washbasin, into her gloomy almond eyes.
"You've got truly long eyelashes, you be aware of!
Her slim fingers playing with my mustache and her coy manner made me deem of flirting a trivial too. I've been a modest out of habit lately, as I've been bearing in mind someone. However, she's a medical doctor, studying for exams, so she doesn't often have instance to socialise. Besides, she was out of civic for a meeting this weekend . .
"Mmmm, that feels fastidious!" I smiled, eyes still shut up, as she rubbed my scalp one last time under the restful water. I jiggled my rule a little, be fond of a cat lacking a rub." she laughed. "OK, immediately a little, 'cos we're not too hectic!" She sat me up in a take the chair and towelled my pelt off a trivial. I let my head fall back into her skillful hands; she kneaded and hard-pressed just the appropriate spots and if it wasn't so revitalizing, I would have fallen sleeping.
"Is this finicky?
"Mmmm", I murmured, not lacking the pleasure to bring to a halt.
"What about this?" she extra, with a barely giggle. I felt my have control over fall back a part and rest against something quiet. She round her top as she did so and, because her hands - and my facial hair - were damp, I could see her gloom nipples through the thin fabric. For a trivial girl, she had copious shapely tits.
"Mmmm, my t-shirt got a speck wet!", she supplementary, looking me in the discernment through the mirror.
"No, don't worry too much; I resembling what I think about it", I replied, with a barely wink. She replied with a grin and took up her cutters and comb.
As my haircut went on, Natasha told me a fate about herself: she's 22, instinctive in Malaysia, loves Hollywood flicks and became a hairdresser when she was 16." she giggled.
"Like what I did to you before!" she added, as she hard-pressed her tits up against my rule once more." I laughed, looking at her attractive face in the mirror, laughing back at me.
Natasha snipped left for another little or two in silence while I accepted her slender auburn arms and the breasts tenderly jiggling under her shirt.
"What did you say you were burden Saturday night? She didn't pluck out away at all. Instead, she leaned further forward so my tackle was virtually nuzzling into her nipple, which I could believe hardening under her shirt.
I pulled not here, wondering who else in the ?hair salon was watching; nobody seemed to have noticed. I looked up. "About Saturday hours of darkness, Natasha - well, I've got a girlfriend, although she's out of city."
"I've got a boyfriend too and, absurdly enough, he's not here too", Natasha believed coyly. "Were you obtainable to ask me out? Surely a night out with such a sexy trivial bimbo wouldn't do any harm? Especially if I didn't catnap with her. She was a crumb of a ditzy key in, though, and I wondered if marry actually find belongings to talk about for a whole late afternoon. And what if one of Karen's links saw us together? "I love the company of show-offs", I other, grinning.
* * *
The first business that struck me when the entry of Natasha's plane opened was the smell: commanding incense and aromatherapy oils, mingled with a trivial marijuana. Second was Natasha herself: transformed fully from the hairdresser in jeans and t-shirt. Her eyes were done up with masses of dark makeup, making her appearance very exotic and her full lips were glossy from perfume. "Come in to my little den! Slender legs, miniscule waist, only about 5 feet tall. She was dressed in a slinky satiny skirt, mid-thigh length, and just a tiny top, exposing a lot of midriff. She'd piled her hair up on her cranium, accentuating her slim neck and shoulders.
"Nice barely place you've got here", I commented, as I looked around the faintly lit room.
"I'm just having a little smoke", Natasha giggled as she took a burning strike from an ashtray. "Here", she held as she handed it to me, "Oh, and take a seat". "So where's your boyfriend tonight?" I asked, to get on to conversation.
"Like your girlfriend, he's out of the road - for tonight", she laughed as she swished her skirt around her hips. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll go and get raring to go".
Get ready? I wondered what that meant. I could try her in the bedroom rummaging around. Pretty soon, a voice spoke. "I was opinion of this dress, but it shrunk a trivial when I washed it".
Natasha appeared at the doorway holding up a tiny tube of pallid fabric.
"It looks immediately fine to me!" I laughed, eager she'd have the guts to at least judge it on in front of me.
"Yeah, right! I'm just looking for some shoes", she laughed back, spiraling her cute run into away from the exit. "Hey, I call for some more of that smoke", she supplementary as I stretched out on the cushions once more.
I took it in to her and found her session on the bed, tying the straps of some extraorinarily prohibitive heeled platforms. The satin of her skirt sat loosely across the very top of her thighs, instructive most of her slim auburn legs.
"You be fond of?" she asked, pointing her feet straight-talking out at me, once both shoes were on. Like her wrists, her ankles were intolerably narrow. It gave me a challenging on just suspicion the silkiness of her skin and scrutiny her tiny bottom arch with pleasure as I stroked it.
"Can you hike in these?" I laughed.
"Of course!" Natasha giggled. "They're a tiny small piece big for me but, then, nearly everything is!" She gave me a little wink, which stirred my hard-on, then stood up in her shoes.
Standing, her feet vaulted strongly upward, outlining the musculature of her smooth legs; the particularly height made the skirt cling nicely to her well-formed butt. She handed the smoke back to me and took a stride to look at herself in the mirror.
Natasha gave her end a little shake. "No VPL, huh?" she asked as she premeditated our reflections in the mirror. I gave her a querying look.
"Visible Panty Contour?" she giggled, as she curved the back of her skirt down with her attractive hands.
"Not that I can think about it" I replied, poignant to stand reasonable behind her and looking down at the suave satin that chop into the fissure of her butt cheeks.
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