Message-ID: <20013eli$9902170450@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: rosa Subject: {rosa} "A New Outlook on Life" (MF Cons) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: rosa6262@yahoo.com MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <36CA2268.741E@yahoo.com> Warning: This story contains sexually explicit material and is for the entertainment use of adults only. Persons under 18 or who are offended by sexually explicit material should not read it. A New Outlook on Life. -- by Rosa. Copyright 1999 rosa6262@yahoo.com -- edited by Kellis Here is a true story from me. At the time of this story I was seeing someone. We weren't engaged but we were talking "what ifs," if you know what I mean. He probably was about to pop the question. It happened at work. It was the first time I had sex there although I had gone out with a customer. I am a hair dresser, cosmetologist to be specific. I had been working at this shop for about three months since graduating from the school of cosmetology. It was a small shop of four girls besides myself, plus the owners wife and the owner. He and his wife were an ass and a bitch. I was eighteen at the time. We girls worked on commission, paying the owner forty percent of our earnings. He made our work schedules and always put me at closing time. This day was late September and my coworker Dana and I were about to close up. I was in the back washing the towels when Dana came back and asked if I wanted to do one last haircut. I said, "Shit, it's only five minutes to closing!" Dana said, "I'd do the haircut but I have to get my kid from day care and get home to my husband." I was trying to get enough money to buy me a new jeep. I was driving an old pickup at this time and I hated it. I wanted a jeep. So I said I would do the hair cut. Dana left and locked the door for me. I drew the blinds on the door and put up the closed sign, not because of what was about to happen but to keep other people from walking in wanting their hair done. I was not planning anything with this guy and wasn't even that type of girl -- then. I am a red head and like wearing it in a braid. It reaches about halfway down my back. I am very small, four foot eleven inches tall and about eighty-nine pounds. Sorry, flat chested. A training bra would be just slightly too small. I could've passed as a Junior High School girl. I guess I should describe what I was wearing. I had on my Rockies. In case you don't know, Rockies are the western style jeans that have a smooth ass without pockets. These were black and fit tight on my small ass. I had my lace up ropers (cowboy boots). I was wearing a black denim vest. It was short to my waist and showed my belly about an inch when I raised my arms. I wasn't wearing a blouse under it. Oh, underneath all this I was wearing a black lace string thong panties. The only black bra I had since I was in total black was a strapless but I wore it anyway. My red hair was braided back in a French braid. I am a cowgirl and I looked like I just left the barrel races at the rodeo. The gentleman who just sat in my chair was really handsome, a banker or businessman type. He was old enough to be my father. I suspected he was around forty years old. He wore a pressed dress shirt, tie with dark slacks, and had thrown his sport coat on a chair in the lobby. He was a large man but not fat, maybe a little overweight, I would guess over six and a half feet tall. I started the haircut. I am short so I have to use a stool to stand on, moving it around to cut the hair. After a minute or two into the cut I was moving the stool and had bent over. He reached out and caressed my butt. I jumped and cried out, "Hey!" He smiled and said he was sorry, so I continued to do the hair cut. After a little while he popped a question. "Why don't you take off that bra?" He could see in the mirror and was staring into my vest through the opening of the arm when I lifted my arms to cut his hair. I smarted off, thinking he wouldn't take me seriously, "That will cost you extra." He said, "How about I double the price?" I said, "Noooo!" "Okay, triple." I thought for a minute about how forty percent of the haircut price of ten dollars was going to my boss. That left me with six dollars. I get to keep any tips. I would now be getting twenty-six dollars for my part of the haircut, and all I had to do was take my bra off so this dirty old man could get a peek every once in a while. I thought I could remain behind the chair and he wouldn't see anything. So I said, "Let's see the money." I wasn't a fool. He adjusted and pulled his wallet out from under the cape that covered him to keep the hair off. When he opened it, it was full of money. He pulled out a twenty. I said, "It's thirty with the hair cut." So he pulled out a ten. I stuffed the money in my pocket, turned around and unhooked my front-clasp bra underneath my vest, then pulled it out. I think he was surprised it was so easy and a strapless. I went back to work, although now he kept moving trying to get a peek and making it hard to cut his hair. After a few more minutes he asked, "Did you ever think about cutting hair topless?" I just gave a loud laugh. "Huh!" "How much for the top?" I said somewhat jokingly, "That would cost you at least fifty more dollars." He pulled his wallet out and handed me two more twenties and a ten. I just stood there. He said, "Well?" I was seeing dollar signs now and that jeep was getting closer. I grabbed the money, unbuttoned my vest and tossed it into the style chair next to mine. Now he sat still since he could get a look. I have to admit I was liking it too. My nipples had been hard as rocks since I took off that bra. I was just about finished with the haircut and was cutting his bangs. He reached out and caressed my butt again. Backing off, I said, "You can't afford my jeans." He said, "How much?" Now I was going for the money. I said a hundred, thinking that he would never cough up the dough. After all even with a topless haircut he was already paying eighty dollars -- and he didn't have that much hair! He calmly pulled out his wallet and handed me a fresh, crisp hundred dollar bill. I just stood there shaking with that bill in my hands. I was scared but I had more money on me now than I had earned in the first two days of the week. I put the money in my pocket and slowly undid my jeans. I had to remove my shoes and socks so I sat in the style chair where I had thrown my vest and bra. The man just kept staring at me. As I was pulling off my jeans, my panties almost came down too with the tightness. Now I was really shaking. Standing there in my black lace thong panties, all that covered me was a small triangle of lace in front held by a string going high over my waist and connected to a string going down through the cheeks of my butt. I could barely finish his bangs. I was sure he was staring at my ass in the mirror as I leaned over him cutting his bangs. I walked around with him eyeing me up. I undid the top of the cape and buzzed his neckline, shaking like I was standing in the cold. I finished up, although I was worried I would cut him. I then brushed the hair clipping off his neck and removed the cape. I about jumped a foot when I saw that he had pulled his dick out of his pants and was playing with it under the cape. His slacks were undone and he was sporting about a six inch hard-on. I screamed a slight bit. He just smiled, asking, "Okay, how much for a facial?" I was so nervous that I thought he was wanting me to do a cream facial for removal of wrinkles. "I don't give facials." "No," he said, "I want to give you one." I then realized what he was talking about. I just stood there. "How about another hundred?" I just stood there, not saying a word. He reached in his wallet and pulled out another crisp hundred dollar bill and reached over, sticking it in the string in my thong. I trembled and just froze there. He took my hand and pulled me near him as he stood up. His pants slipped to his knees and his dick bounced up straight at me. I slowly squatted down and looked up at his face. He smiled and stepped up closer. I looked at his dick and took it in between my lips. He caressed the back of my head so gently it calmed me down a little. He pushed himself further in my mouth and I sucked down on him. It wasn't my first blow job, but I was trembling like a virgin. I was also getting hot. My pussy was aching for attention. I relaxed a little and sat on my legs on the floor. It didn't even bother me too much because of the cold. He now began to slowly pump my face. I took him as deep as I could, tasting his pubic hair. He suddenly quivered and pulled out. I opened my mouth but I don't know why I bothered. Only a tiny drop landed in my mouth. The rest hit my forehead, got in my hair and eyes, splattered my cheek and down on my little tits. He must have shot off at least three big spurts. I reached up, stroked his pecker and put it back in my mouth, tasting what little was left. I was so excited I didn't want it to be over. His pecker began to go limp in my mouth but I continued to suck on it. After about a minute he caressed the back of my head again and his dick started to return to life. I kept sucking and bobbing my head on his prick. When it came erect again I lost control. I got up off the floor, pulled my thong off and turned toward the shelf, leaning over with my elbows on it. He didn't need any explanation. He grabbed my hips and stuck his dick to my pussy lips. As it spread me and entered I exploded with an orgasm. I shivered again, this time not from fear but lust. He continued to pound into me. I opened my eyes to see myself looking back in the mirror mounted at the station. The white come he had shot over my face had melted to a clear, runny mess. My bangs, eye lashes and brows were wet and stuck together as if I had used mousse on them. I looked at his face as he pumped me from behind. I could see the whole shop in the mirror. It just sank in that I was at work. It also sank in that I was a real slut: come on my face, a stranger fucking me from behind at work, and cheating on my boyfriend. I was a real slut and I liked it. These thoughts going through my head sent me over the edge again. As the orgasm spread through my body, I started yelping. That's the best I can explain it, yelping. It was loud like yelling but moaning at the same time. It was a high pitched "Ooohh!" Every thrust of his dick brought a sound from my mouth. I closed my eyes again, not wanting to look at myself but to enjoy the fucking I was getting. He must have had a hard time getting off twice so quickly because it seemed like he was pumping me forever. We were both sweating all over in the heat of screwing. What part of my hair wasn't soaked with his sperm was now soaked with sweat. I could feel the sweat all over my body and the braid of my hair that was hanging on my shoulder. Finally I felt him shudder as he pumped himself into me hard. I exploded. I yelled out at the top of my lungs as my third orgasm shook my body while his dick pumped into my pussy. After his dick quit throbbing he pulled out of me and I fell back into the style chair where he'd had his hair cut. I was exhausted. He pulled up his slacks, tucked in his shirt, straightened his tie in the mirror and put his sports coat back on. He was well polished and I was in love with him. Not a romantic love wanting a relationship but a love of his style and class. He walked over and kissed the top of my head as he dropped another hundred dollar bill in my lap. I picked it up, staring at it as he undid the deadbolt and let himself out. I thought, Am I a prostitute? I shook it off as, no, just a damn good hair cutter who gets big tips. I sat there a long time thinking, the come leaking out of my pussy on to the chair. I held the three hundred and eighty dollars. Then I got dressed and put the ten for the haircut in the register. I would get my commission on it at the end of the week. I cleaned up the hair in the floor. Before I cleaned the come off the chair I ran my fingers through it. I was changed. I was going to breakup with my boyfriend and live my life for myself. The next evening I went to the car lot and gave my whole savings, the three hundred and seventy dollars and my ugly truck as down payment for the new love of my life, a brand new green Wrangler jeep. That man gave me more than the best sex I have ever had, he also set me free to be my own boss and to live life to the fullest. That's my story. I SWEAR IT'S TRUE. -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----