The Haircut

This story is a work of fiction. The story mentions or implies some real places and institutions. They are used fictitiously here. To the author's knowledge, no real person affiliated with any of those places or institutions has done anything akin to what is described in this story. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person are coincidental and unintended. I encourage comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable. Thank you for reading.

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I had gotten a football scholarship to a major midwestern university. I spent most of my time as a scout team and later back-up tight end, although I did catch a touchdown against our in-state rivals senior year. Fortunately, I was a better student than football player and graduated on time with a Bachelor's in economics. While I wasn't a star athlete, I enjoyed college sports and wanted to stay around that environment, so I got a Master's in Sports Administration from another midwestern university.

The job market was tight when I graduated. I started sending resumes in January of my second year. I may have sent one to every college and university athletic department in the country. A couple weeks after graduation, I was called by a big school in the Pacific Northwest. Could I appear for an interview in two days? I'd have liked more notice; but this was a major sports school. Yes, I'll be there day after tomorrow.

I got an airline ticket with bad connections. I hastily packed a bag, checking to make sure I had the jacket and trousers from the same suit. It was about 4:00 p.m. Pacific time the next day when I got to my overpriced hotel in a large Northwest city. Once in my tiny room, I looked in the mirror and realized I hadn't gotten a haircut recently. I didn't look professional. The woman at the front desk hesitantly said the nearest salon was four blocks away, "if you're willing to go there." I didn't ask about that qualification. I just started walking in the direction she'd given me.

It didn't register at the time that the salon's storefront was opaque. Most salons let passersby see in. This one's windows were painted over. Not thinking about that, I went in. All they had available, the receptionist told me, was a stylist and "GB," who would be available in about twenty minutes. I'd wait. The waiting area had the typical shelves of hair care products. Behind the front desk, to my right, I could see a few stations where people, mainly women, were having their hair done. To my left, was a wall with shelves and a door in the middle.

About twenty minutes later, a woman about my age in jeans and a knit top walked out of the door between the shelves. She was smiling and I saw her hand a tip to the woman who followed her. The tip, and the smock the second woman was wearing, told me she was probably the stylist. The woman in the smock went to the front desk and talked to the receptionist for a moment. Then, the woman walked to me, smiled, and asked "are you ready Mr. Stone?" I nodded affirmatively and stood. The woman, whose name tag said "Rikki" led me to the door she'd just come out of. She opened the door and said, please step in.

I stepped into a room that looked pretty much like any other hair salon I'd seen. There were four chairs and basins, two on either side of a walkway and four tables at the end of the room. I wondered why this area was walled off from the rest of the salon. However, Rikki gestured for me to sit in a chair and asked me what I wanted her to do with my hair.

Rikki took about twenty-five minutes to shampoo my hair and make it look moderately respectable. She was just finishing when the door opened. A young woman in a white polo shirt and white slacks walked in followed by a guy, also wearing a smock, who looked like a bodybuilder. The young woman's slacks and top fit tightly enough to an outstanding figure she got my attention. Rikki brought me back to earth by asking, "I assume you want your pubic hair trimmed?"

"Uh, what?" I asked.

"Most people who come to this side also want their pubic hair trimmed," Rikki replied. She could not have said what I heard. Looking across the walkway, I watched the young woman who'd just come in unbutton her slacks and drop them and her panties to her feet. She stepped out of them and turned to face me. I'd seen naked women before many times, of course, but I'd never seen hips, thighs, and a pubic mound that looked as beautiful as hers. She smiled at me, sat down, and spread her legs. The bodybuilder pulled up a stool and sat between the young woman's legs.

"Mr. Stone, the pubic hair?" Rikki asked with a hint of annoyance.

What the hell I thought. "Sure," I said.

"Please remove your pants and underwear," Rikki said. I did and noticed that the woman across the walkway was watching me. Rikki put a towel in the chair I'd been sitting in and said, "please sit down and spread your legs." I did as I was told. Rikki pulled up a stool, sat between my legs, and began trimming my pubic hair.

After a minute, Rikki relaxed a little and asked, "you've never been to a genital beautician before, have you?"

"No," I replied. "I didn't know there was such a thing."

"I think we're the only state that has licensed genital beauticians" Rikki said. "The only places you'll find them are here and a couple other towns along the coast. The rest of the state is too conservative. Now, I'm going to hold your penis up so I can trim the hair on your scrotum." Rikki took my dick in her left hand and held it against my belly while she snipped carefully around my balls with the small scissors in her right hand. I'd never had a woman whom I'd met less than half an hour earlier handling my dick, but it wasn't an unpleasant experience.

I looked across the walkway again. The pubic area that had looked so inviting on the young woman was blocked from my view by the broad shoulders of her genital beautician. She was, I guessed, my age. She had long, light brown hair. The first thing you noticed about her face was a big nose. However, with her big eyes, dimples, wide mouth, and strong chin, it worked. It wasn't a fashion model's face. It was warmer and friendlier. The longer I looked, the more attractive I realized she was. The woman caught be looking at her. We made eye contact and she smiled.

Rikki let go of my dick. "I should also do the anal hair," she said.

"Yeah, sure," I replied, still half-thinking I was asleep on the plane dreaming.

"Please follow me," Rikki said. She turned and walked towards the tables. I really had no choice. I stood up, naked from the waist down, and followed her. She put a sheet of paper like you see in doctor's offices over a table and said, "lie face down." I did.

Seconds later, I heard another sheet of paper being laid out and the young woman got on the table to my right. I had to look. She was facing me. She smiled a wide smile. "Hi, I'm Vickie," she said.

"Will," I replied. "Nice to meet you."

"I heard you tell Rikki you've never been to a salon like this before," Vickie said. "Things are a bit different up here in the Northwest, probably because we're so far from the rest of the country." I couldn't resist looking back. The bodybuilder stylist was bent over what looked from the side like a very nice ass. Guilty, I looked back at Vickie. She was still smiling. "Carlo can get hairs I can't reach," she said pleasantly.

A moment later, Carlo said, "all done Vic." Vickie stood up from the table. I expected her to walk off, but she stayed where she was.

A few seconds later, Rikki said, "You're finished Mr. Stone. You can get up."

I stood up from the table. Vickie was standing about a foot away. We both had shirts on but were naked below them. "What'd you think?" Vickie asked.

"Well," I said, "I'm not sure yet."

"I love this place," Vickie said. "I and a couple of girl friends come here at least once a month. I also make any guy I date come here."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"I can see what he's got without the implication I'm going to let him put it in me," she replied. "And it gives him a chance to see me."

"I'm sure your dates are enchanted," I said.

"Really?" Vickie replied. "You think I look nice down there?"

"You are a beautiful woman," I said.

"Thank you," Vickie replied. "Why are you here?"

"Job interview tomorrow," I said. "I just meant to get a haircut."

"I hope you get the job," Vickie said. "It was great to meet you, but I've got to run." She went back to the station she'd been sitting at and put her panties and pants back on. That was something of a shame. Vickie really did have the most beautiful lower body I'd seen.

The extremely odd experience at the salon the afternoon before must have created some sort of positive karma. My interview with the Associate Athletic Director went, I thought, very well. After an hour, he said, "its not scheduled, but I'd like you to meet the A.D." He picked up a phone, dialed a number, and asked "is he in?" He paused before saying "I've got someone I think he should meet."

I spent another hour talking with the Athletic Director, a man whose picture I'd seen in sports publications before. He ended the interview by saying, "you make a good impression. We need to talk internally. We'll get back to you soon." I took a cab out to the airport. As I waited for my redeye home, I was thinking more about Vickie than the job.

I was offered the job a week later. They wanted me to start as soon as possible. I had some hesitancy about moving most of the way across the country. However, this was a big-time program, and, with luck, I'd run into Vickie again. I told them I could start in ten days.

My first day at work, I got the tour of the athletic complex and introductions to the staff. School was already out so few athletes were around. The huge training room was our third stop. The head trainer was a woman named Alice Brown, in her mid-forties. She called her staff of twenty in to meet me. I was minorly important to them because I'd be handling purchasing of their supplies and equipment. I saw a face I recognized walk into the room. She was dressed all in white again, although, this time, her top was trimmed in the school's purple and gold colors and the name Vickie was embroidered above her left breast.

Ms. Brown introduced me to each of her staff. The next to last person in line was introduced to me as Vickie Traugher. Her wide smile was wonderful. "I think we met by accident when you came up here to interview," she said.

"I think we did," I replied.

Vickie's smile got wider. "It's great to see you again," she said. "I'm glad you got the job." She sounded like she really meant it.

The next day was my first real day on the job. About 11:00 a.m., my phone rang with an internal call. I didn't recognize the extension. When I answered, a voice I remembered said, "Will, this is Vickie. Since you just got here, I assume you don't know where to get lunch. Meet me outside the training room in half an hour. Got to run. See you in thirty." I was amused that Vickie just assumed I'd have lunch with her, but she assumed correctly.

We didn't have lunch together every day. Our jobs overrode personal schedules. We did manage lunch together two or three times a week. At our first lunch, we determined that my apartment was only a block from Vickie's. That lunch and most thereafter included her telling me where I should go to get this product or that service. Vickie assumed that I shared her preferences, but her recommendations were good ones.

About three weeks into the job, I had lunch with Vickie on a Wednesday. Towards the end of the lunch, Vickie said, "A couple of my girlfriends and I are going to the salon, you know the one I mean, Friday. They stay open late on Fridays, and they serve wine. Why don't you come along? You're probably due for a trim down there."

I didn't know whether I was due for a trim or not, but the opportunity to see Vickie half naked again was too good to pass up. "Sure," I said as casually as I could. "I'd love to go with you."

"Great!" Vickie said. "We meet for dinner and then go to the salon. I'm not sure where we're going for dinner yet. I'll call you."

That Friday evening, I met Vickie at a mid-priced restaurant/bar. Two other women were with her. Chandra Jones was a tall, very attractive African American who was an assistant women's volleyball coach at the University. Melissa Knight was a small blonde who was on the training staff with Vickie.

We were seated and ordered drinks. The conversation was what you'd expect among four people who had the same employer. We talked about athletic department gossip and interesting things we'd done recently. Since I was just meeting Chandra and Melissa, I was not surprised that they asked some questions about my background. Nothing prying, just what you'd expect when meeting a new person. The conversation was so normal that I had some difficulty believing we were all going to be together, naked from the waist down, that same evening. Maybe the plans had changed.

Plans had not changed. After dinner, we all drove over to the salon where I'd first met Vickie. The receptionist greeted Vickie, Chandra, and Melissa by name. Vickie introduced me.

The receptionist gave us each a glass of wine, saying "sorry. Still setting up for you. It will just be a minute."

A couple of minutes later, Rikki, who had trimmed me on my previous visit, opened the door in the wall and said, "Come on back." I followed the three women. I'm not sure what I expected. What I didn't expect was the three of them to matter-of-factly take off their shoes, slacks, and panties. That's what happened.

Chandra was standing next to me. Once she took her panties off, she said, "it feels good to get those things off and let my body breathe." Chandra's idea of respiration was quite attractive.

The situation seemed so unreal that I'd forgotten to undress myself. Vickie chided me, "Come on Will. Get your things off." I removed my shoes, socks, trousers, and boxers. I'd worm a knit shirt that stopped well above my pubes.

My slowness meant that I got to undress with all three women watching me. I expected someone to reveal any instant that this was just a practical joke. Still, exposing myself to three attractive women was exciting. Fortunately, I didn't get a hard-on, even when Chandra openly stared at my dick and said, "Vickie, you know how to pick a penis."

Vickie and I sat in salon chairs next to each other. Chandra and Melissa sat side-by-side across the aisle facing us. Both women looked wonderful sitting half-naked with their legs spread. I made a point of looking mostly at Vickie. That wasn't a sacrifice. Vickie's lower body was (and is) exceptionally beautiful.

Rikki sat on a stool between my legs and began her work. Carlo was trimming Vickie, but two women were working on Chandra and Melissa. The genital beauticians had all four of us trimmed quickly. Finished, I followed Vickie's alluring ass to a table where there were four glasses of wine. We sipped wine and chatted like we had at dinner. The difference now was that we were all bare from the waist down. Melissa seemed a little nervous, but I was impressed by how comfortable Vickie and Chandra seemed.

About halfway through her wine, Vickie said, "Carlo, I've changed my mind. I'd like to shave it bare. Do you have time for that?"

"Sure, I've got time," Carlo replied, "but you'll have to take everything off and shower." With a straight face, Carlo added, "I need you moist to shave you."

"Rikki," Vickie called. "If Carlo shaves me, do you have time to shave Will?"

"Sure," Rikki replied, "but he'll need to shower too."

Vickie turned to me. "Will, here's your chance to take a shower with me. Up for it?"

This was an opportunity that I feared might not come again. "Absolutely," I said as I pulled my shirt off over my head. That earned me a handclap from Chandra.

Vickie took off her top and her bra. Her breasts were a little large for her body, but they were nicely shaped with no evidence of any enhancement. Completely nude, Vickie Traugher was, I thought, a very beautiful woman.

Vickie wrapped a hand around one of my wrists and led me to a shower stall enclosed with clear glass in a corner of the room. Still holding my wrist, she opened the door and turned on the water. After feeling the water and fiddling with the controls for a moment, she said, "that's good" and pulled me into the shower. The shower enclosure wasn't huge, but there was ample room for the two of us.

Vickie smiled at me, said, "wash my back first," and turned around. I did as I was told. I hate to sound corny or clichéd, but I felt a special sort of energy when I first touched her. Not electric, but like some sort of positive force was moving from her skin into my fingers. My second impression was that, while Vickie wasn't noticeably muscular, she had well-developed muscles beneath the skin of her back.

When I finished with her back, Vickie turned around and said, "put out your hand." I put my hand out and she squeezed a drop of shampoo into it from a bottle that was on a shelf in the shower. "Now," she said, "gently wash my bush so it can be shaved off." I spread the shampoo over my hand, reached down, and began rubbing her soft pubic hair in a circling motion. I might have pressed more firmly than was strictly needed and my fingers may have strayed between her legs a little.

After three or four minutes, Vickie said, "that's very good. Let me rinse off." She turned to face the shower and I noticed, in profile, that her nipples were erect. After letting the water run on herself for a moment and pushing it out of her hair with her hand, Vickie put shampoo in her hand, turned back to face me, and said, "Now, I need to shampoo you."

After the trim, I didn't have much pubic hair left. However, Vickie washed what I had thoroughly. She also washed around my balls and finished with several strokes up the shaft of my dick. That, by itself, made it a great night. She gently turned me to face the shower faucet and used her hand to help rinse the shampoo off me. I was almost completely erect by the time she finished.

Vickie abruptly turned the water off, pushed open the door, and said, "let's let everyone see how nice you look. Remember, don't towel off down there."

Vickie led me out of the shower but immediately stood to one side so everyone in the room had a clear view of my hard-on. I heard Chandra say "nice!"

Melissa said, "oh my!"

Rikki and Carlo had draped towels over the salon chairs Vickie and I had sat in before. I followed Vickie back to the chairs. She sat in one and spread her legs. Carlo put some shave cream on her mound and began shaving her very carefully. I sat in the other chair and spread my legs. Rikki sat down on her stool again and spread shave cream over the hair left after her earlier trimming. My hard-on was up against my belly. Rikki had to pull it down to do a complete shave.

After Rikki was finished, she used a wet washcloth to remove the excess shave cream, then rubbed some sort of lotion into my skin, not only where she'd shaved but on my balls and dick as well. To my surprise, the lotion felt good. I'd been watching Carlo do basically the same thing to Vickie. Chandra and Melissa, still bottomless, had watched the shaving intently.

Vickie stood up from the chair. I stood up to face her. Without any pubic hair, Vickie was very exposed, which was very erotic. Before I could say anything, Vickie said, "I've been told that sex is better just after a shaving. Want to come to my place and find out if that's true?"

What else could I say? "I'd love to," I answered.

Just after I'd gotten my clothes on, Chandra took me aside. "Vickie isn't as self-confident as she seems," she told me in a low voice, "and she's made some disappointing choices. Be good to her."