A man enters a hairdressing salon, stops and looks around as if trying to take the place in. Before he can make up his mind, on whether to stay or to turn around and leave, a cute young female hairdresser approaches him and greets him with a large overpowering smile.

She asks him if he is interested in having his hair cut. Even though the first word that springs to mind is
“duh !”, he just smiles and nods hesitantly.

Punctuated with another sparkling ‘toothpaste commercial’ like smile, she leads the way to a vacant chair and hands him a magazine.

As he leafs through it he realizes that it is a specialist magazine dedicated to men’s hairstyles. No cars, power tools, sailing boats, sports results; no, none of those, just glossy pages filled with boring pictures of hair !

His friends had managed to entice him into coming to this salon. Their enthusiasm and arguments were so convincing that they had ultimately managed to win him over. There was no way that he could have remained opposed to the idea in light of such a concerted and consistent effort.

He had been quite content, up till now, cutting his own hair in front of the mirror, seeing as he used to own his own barber shop a few years ago.

So here he was, sitting in a chair at the salon, wondering what to expect, only half enthused with the prospect of having some stranger run their fingers through his hair.

They all seemed so young these days, he wondered to himself, what could they really know about the art of hairdressing ?

He personally took pride in his well structured life, doing his utmost to preserve a stable unhindered comfort zone by sticking to, and constantly refining, a set of self-satisfying and, let’s face it, reassuring habits.He was interrupted in his thoughts as someone came to fetch him for the shampoo session.

As he leaned back, he closed his eyes and leaned his head onto the cool edge of the wash basin. Getting one’s hair washed should be a pleasant experience after all, he decided, and made an effort to relax.

It was in fact rather pleasant, if you overlooked the soap in the eye and the sudden variations in water temperature. Grumble, grumble, grumble…sounds French, doesn’t it ?

He returned to his initial chair with slightly dripping hair. In fact some of the drops of water began trickling down his neck, and ran all the way down onto his back; a frown began to appear on his forehead.

As he turned around to wipe his neck he was startled out of his wits by a young man who suddenly appeared, out of nowhere. Of course this hairdresser also afforded him a dazzling smile, to which he simply responded with a sigh and a brief smirk. He then he closed his eyes and he leaned back into his chair.

The young man began combing through his client’s hair, trying to get a feel for its current layout. He made an attempt or two to get the conversation going, but all he obtained were a few raised eyebrows. He then tried to suggest couple of hair styles that would suit the shape of his client’s face. Was that another smirk ?

Oh boy, thought the hairdresser, how on earth could he please this customer if he couldn’t get a word out of him ? Nevertheless he grabbed his comb and scissors, tapped them together to rid them of any leftover hairs and began clipping the air prior to proceeding with the first snip.

He combed through his client’s hair once again, this time selecting a section of hair and then proceeded to remove a couple of centimeters off the end of the line of hair that he had neatly lodged between his fore and middle fingers.

No sooner had he brought the scissors towards his client’s head, than the head was there no more. It had disappeared.

Confused the hair dresser looked up to find his client standing by his side.

He was thanking him for his time and effort, and explained that he had changed his mind. He was sure that the hair dresser was proficient at his job, but he just didn’t feel confident enough that he would be pleased with the end result. He removed his gown, wiped his neck and then darted for the door.

What just happened ? The hairdresser was stunned, baffled, utterly confused. How could the client have known what to expect ? Unless he was clairvoyant ?

He thought back to what he had said to the client, but he couldn’t think of anything out of the ordinary. Maybe it was what he hadn’t said that sparked the client’s change of mind ?

Wow, that was the quickest hair cut ever.

C’est l’histoire d’un jeune homme, peu expérimenté, qui se rend chez une prostituée.

Il y va un peu à reculons, encouragé, disons même poussé, par ses amis qui l’ont convaincu de tenter l’expérience.

Ce n’est pas un débutant complet en la matière. Il a quand même réussi à en faire gémir une ou deux jusqu’au bout ; avec leur concours assurément.

Mais voilà, qu’aujourd’hui il se livre aux bons soins de cette jeune demoiselle, mince, plutôt grande et dont la chevelure brune et ondulée lui descend jusqu’au creux du dos. Ses seins sont petits, de forme conique, et ses tétons légèrement cylindriques lui paraissent bien fermes.

Plutôt que de régler la prostituée, comme il se doit, dès le départ il réussi à négocier avec elle, l’avance d’une petite somme en guise de pourboire.

Une fois déshabillé machinalement, il s’allonge de tout son long, à même le drap jaunis du lit étroit qui a été repoussé contre le mur du fond de cette pièce exigüe et sombre.

Il se sent fin prêt à recevoir les soins mystérieux de cette jeune femme, de se délecter du plaisir ultime, de subir la magie du contact charnel, et pourquoi pas de découvrir quelques secrets du Kâma-Sûtra.

Donc la tête en repos sur ses mains entrecroisés il attend. En accord avec son état d’esprit sceptique, il a pris la décision de rester silencieux et totalement passif. Il nourrit tout de même l’espoir d’être surpris, emporté, conduit, voire totalement envouté par les dons de cette pro du plaisir.

La jeune demoiselle, à peine plus expérimentée que ce jeune homme se sent légèrement pris de court par sa posture allongée. Vêtue d’une chemisette transparente qui permet de deviner sans difficulté les formes de son corps, elle s’approche du lit.

Elle commence à lui caresser par effleurement les cuisses, le torse, et une fois arrivé au cou, ses mains redescendent dans le sens inverse.
Puis, elle s’agenouille, et lui appose quelques légers baisers sur les mains, les bras, le creux de son épaule, s’attarde sur le pourtour exposé de son cou, et termine mordillant légèrement le lobe de son oreille gauche.

L’homme, lui, reste totalement impassible. Pas un frisson, pas un murmure ; stoïque.

La jeune fille constatant que ce dernier n’est visiblement pas impressionné par ses caresses, se positionne à califourchon sur l’une de ses cuisses.
Lentement et progressivement elle avance en se frottant à lui. Elle pose ses mains sur son torse tout en transférant une partie de son poids vers l’avant. Ses cheveux se baladent le long des côtes saillantes du jeune homme.

Poursuivant ce mouvement elle est consciente que la partie nécessaire du corps de son client reste résolument inerte. Donc du bout de ses ongles elle commence à caresser d’un geste circulaire, son triangle pileux. Toujours rien.

Que cela ne tienne, les lèvres humectées, elle se met à frotter et à mordiller cette verge qui refuse d’exprimer tout signe de virilité.

Brusquement, l’homme se redresse et lui sourit.

Il lui parait clair que tous ces efforts ne mèneront nulle part, et en y mettant immédiatement fin il pourrait s’épargner du temps et surtout de l’argent. Il lui explique donc très succinctement que ce n’est pas ce à quoi il s’attendait, et qu’elle n’a malheureusement pas trouvé le moyen d’éveiller sa libido. Il propose donc d’en rester là.

En se rhabillant il cherche malgré tout à s’expliquer cette échec: manque d’expérience, voire d’imagination ? Il se jure sur le champ qu’on ne l’y prendra plus.

Dire qu’il s’agit d’une professionnelle de surcroit.