Trimming Tensions, Stroking Fantasies

Serdar, the seasoned hairdresser, has seen many clients, but none like this. Her hair is silky, her skin smooth, and her scent intoxicating. As he works, his fingers graze her neck, her shoulders, her upper arms. She responds, her breath hitching, her nipples hardening beneath her blouse. He leans in, his voice a low rumble, "You have such beautiful hair. I could spend all day with my hands in it." She smiles, a wicked glint in her eye, "Perhaps you should." Their eyes meet in the mirror, the unspoken promise hanging heavy in the air, as his scissors continue their rhythmic dance.

• the
• hairdresser

• Unknown