Sprucing Up the Male Model
Interracial Story
© Copyright Cupideros, October 27, 2012
1,294 words



SHORT DESCRIPTION:
Neal, a construction worker, goes into Sheryl hair and beauty salon to be spruced up.  But he finds himself distracted by the environment.  Can Sheryl help him get spruced up for his modeling gig?  Read and find out.



EYE CATCHING BLURB:
We shook hands.  Neal held my hand a little longer than usual.  Now I wanted to fuck him.  He shouldn't have done that.  I've been without a boyfriend for two weeks.  That is like a year in hair-salon years.  A woman can only stand being without a man so long in a female dominated space like a salon, library or hospital.  Of course, those last two get to see male customers every day to relieve their lust-frustration.  Rarely does a man walk into a hair salon.


Sprucing Up the Male Model
Interracial Story
© Copyright Cupideros, October 27, 2012
1,294 words


This big muscular black guy named Neal walked into my hair and beauty salon on twenty-fourth street.  He wore blue jeans and a black button up-long sleeve office shirt.  I wore my satin white blue toga dressed.  It was springtime.  I worked on a woman's hair, clipping her split ends.  Neal's erotic muscles and six feet framed made the scene surreal.  All the women started buzzing and crossing their legs, whereas before they sat comfortably spread legged.  They sat up straight.  They tried to adjust their T-shirts, dresses under their white barber cloth.  I understood the women.  The heat and pressure of Neal’s presence made me squeeze my legs, as well.  I unconsciously almost reached up and stroked my small A-cup breasts.  My advantage soon won out over the other salon girls helping me. 

"You look like the owner. You're dressed the best."  He reached out and touched my elbow, sending my girly senses into estrogen overdrive. 
"You like white-blue satin on a girl," I said smiling as I motion for Tina to come over.  "Please finish Mrs. Helen Savoy's hair.  What can I do for you--"

"Neal." 
We shook hands.  Neal held my hand a little longer than usual.  Now I wanted to fuck him.  He shouldn't have done that.  I've been without a boyfriend for two weeks.  That is like a year in hair-salon years.  A woman can only stand being without a man so long in a female dominated space like a salon, library or hospital.  Of course, those last two get to see male customers every day to relieve their lust-frustration.  Rarely does a man walk into a hair salon.

His deep voice continued, as we stood eye-to-eye, albeit, my blue eyes were four feet lower than Neal's brown eyes. 

"I just got this job as a model."  He held out his hands, palms down.  "I used to be in construction."
"That's great you were scouted."
"Yes, that's what the redhead called it, scouting."  Neal got really shy.  He leaned in closer.  I smelled his CK cologne.  Damn that was the third thing he should not have done.  Now his big physical presence, his deep masculine voice and his charming smell and those big hands, (isn't that's four, I’m losing count) confirmed I had to bag him.

"I need to be cleaned up," he confessed.
"You don't have any head hair," I started trying to stop my voice from sounding like mini-orgasms.  "I'll give you a nice shave, we'll pluck your eyebrows so they’re not straggly."  I stepped back to prevent myself from throwing my body on his body.  "You need a manicure.  We can clean you up Neal.  Come, right this way?”

I took him in the back, into the VIP salon room, to the giggling, murmuring of the female customers and salon girls.

“You’ll feel comfortable here, Neal.”  He sat down in the salon chair, and barely fit inside it. “Oh, I’m sorry.  We don’t usually get football-sized men in here.”
“That’s okay. I don’t feel nervous now.”  He took a big deep breath.  He placed his hands on the black arms of the salon chair.  “I thought I might get a boner out there!”  He shook his head as if he had no control over his maleness.

“Neal, you don’t have to flatter me.” I said as I decided to shave his mustache first.  I wrapped the white barber cloth around his neck.  
“That’s not idle flatter. All those damn pretty women, too.  Your salon girls all are smelling so good.”
I lathered his mustache, “No compliment on my smell?”
“I apologize, you smell good, too.  I don’t usually like flower-fruity scents—“
“I’m not telling you.”  I started snipping away the ends.  “You’ll just tell everyone, and I won’t be special to you anymore.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.  You’re touching me.  You’re already special.”

I thought about that.  I finished his mustache.  I worked on his straggly black eyebrows. I remained silent concentrating.  Neal wanted to talk.
“When a man comes in here—“
I interrupted him, “Do the girls get horny?”
“I’m trying to figure out this modeling thing.  I went to this agency and all these women …”
“It’s normal for women to react to a masculine male like you. Rest assure many male models after working, don’t notice the women at all.”

I noticed, however, he started playing with his barber cloth.  Something very occult under there distracted Neal.  I didn’t want to asks him.  Then as I reached around, turning the chair toward the large mirror behind me, I saw the problem.    His pussyfucker began its external exhibition.  Neal was rock hard and trying to hide it with his hands. “See how much neater you look.”  I ignore his erotic condition.
“Yeah, Neal,” said nervously.
“Now, to work on your manicure.”
“Uhu. Now?” He stammered.  He slowly removed his hands as if he were secretly wearing handcuffs.
“My Gosh, what a stare-down black dick you have.”  I joked.
“Stare-down?”
“I’m glad you asked.  I lifted his white barber cover.  “See how your cock is staring at me, I’m not going to back down and neither is he.”
Neal pushed down on his cock frustrated, embarrassed.

I held up one finger, “One second, Neal.”  I locked the VIP salon door.  “There!”
His boner refused to stand-down. 
I reached and removed his two big black hands.  I unzipped is blue jeans.  I freed his thick, heavy cock from his white briefs.  “You know models don’t wear underwear.”
“They don’t?”
“You might as well get used to it.  But first.”  I lowered my hot mouth onto his cock.  I could tell Neal went to sexual heaven even before I engulfed his entire dickmeat.  My tongue started caressing his penis head.  I pulled off his cock.  I hovered and used soft breathing rushing across the tip as his staring cock-eye locked onto my own lust-filled eyes.  Neal started squirming and thrusting toward my face.  I lowered my face back onto his raging desire.  Finally, he gave in and held my head down as his volcanic orgasm shot gallons of manspunk down my gullet.  I pulled back, “There that should solve the problem.  You can redress him now.”
I turned to mix up the materials for his manicure.  When I looked at his hands still placed on his cock. I was surprised.  “What an impertinent fellow!’

Neal gave me a stare-down and a slow smile. 
I smiled back at Neal.  I put the manicure concoction on the counter.  I went around and turned my back to Neal’s lap.  I raised my silky white-blue dress up to my belly button.  “See no underwear!”
“I don’t know if I can get used to it.”
“You will.  Lower your pants and briefs some more.”  I straddled Neal reverse cowgirl style.  I wanted to face the door.  My salon girls have the VIP key for emergencies.  I squatted lower and lower.  I reached between my wet slim legs and my dripping pussyjuices already liberally drenched my upper thighs.  I sat my 119 pounds on Neal’s eight-inch, two inch cock and he went right in, up to the hilt.  His balls nuzzled against my full pussylips.  I flipped my platinum blonde, shoulder length hair back in his black face.  “Start moving Neal.”

He knew exactly what to do.  I didn’t care there wasn’t an emotional relationship between us.  We fucked for fifteen minutes, before I forced his hot spermlava out of his balls up into my hungry feminine plumbing.  Then he finally relaxed. 

I had no further distractions stopping me from sprucing Neal up. 

In fact, Neal was very appreciative of my actions.  He uses his high model income exclusively at my salon.  We fuck on a regular basis in the VIP room and have a good time too!


--THE END--


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