business loan, so that I can open my own shop. Will you take this money please? It's only a C-note."
Troy reached out and took the money. He counted the bills and placed all but five singles onto the table. Before she could protest he walked past her.
Juicy didn't want him to go. Strange...he scared her sometimes, but she didn't want him to leave. She trailed behind him and he looked at her over his shoulder with his hand poised over the door knob.
"Are you going to be okay, Juice?"
"Yeah." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm going to be alright." She responded boldly. "You go on ahead. I don't want to make you nervous."
Troy opened the door then paused. He closed it.
"There is one favor that you can do for me."
Juicy tried to hide her pleasure. "Sure, anything, Troy."
"Well, since you do hair, I could really use a haircut."
"You want me to cut your hair? Sure. Did you want a perm or maybe highlights-?"
He was shaking his head. "Just a hair cut."
Juicy circled him slowly, studying his hair to see the style that his head was crying for. She reached out and fluffed certain areas with her fingers, other areas she swept back, then forward. It was still a bit damp from his shower and she recognized the tropical smell of her shampoo on him.
"Come on." She indicated for him to follow her into her 'business' room. She had a rolling barber’s chair there. There was another television and some comfortable seating and piles of hair magazines. Beside the chair was a table that contained, what Troy would consider, devices of torture! The room had a smell that he found both foreign and comforting.
"Sit down, make yourself comfortable. I have to go to the bathroom. Be right back."
Troy picked up and examined strange metal combs and wands. He leafed through some of the magazines sometimes in disbelief at the more outlandish styles. Then he reclined in the barber's chair riding it first up then down.
He straightened when he heard Juicy return. She had freshened up, brushed her teeth and fixed up her dreds. Troy noted that she was wearing khaki capris and a rhinestone studded shirt that hugged her large body in a sexy way. She was still wearing her doo rag, but it now seemed somehow decorative.
Juicy turned on the radio and seemed to fall perfectly into a professional persona. She hummed softy and picked up a cape which she draped around his shoulders. With a delicate touch that surprised him, Juicy fastened the cape snuggly around his neck. Troy tried to ignore the sight of her rounded breast just at his eye level.
He hadn't really wanted a haircut. He trimmed his own hair when he got the chance. It wasn't great looking but at least it kept it out of his eyes. But it was the tone of Juicy's voice that had given him pause. He'd been watching out for her for days and it was just hard to cut it off. She hadn't wanted him to go either. That was clear. Maybe she was lonely sometimes, too.
She spritzed his hair from a water bottle as she walked around the chair instead of swiveling it. Every time her breast came into eyesight Troy clenched his hand slightly. She had nice breasts. The thin material showed a slight blue tint of her bra beneath. There was even a bit of nipple impression visible.
"You've been cutting your own hair, haven't you?"
"Huh? Oh. Yeah."
Her hands ran through his hair, slightly grazing his scalp. Troy shuddered involuntarily. God, what was she doing to him...?
She used a narrow tooth comb to gently smooth out his hair. It felt wonderful.
Juicy continued humming then the first snip. Lost in her work she didn't realize that his breathing was shallow and labored and that his eyes were glued to the sight of her breasts.
She hadn't had very much experience with white men's hairstyles. She was happy for the practice. She reached down to lightly tilt his chin upward and noticed two red spots on each of his cheeks. What in the hell was up with that?
Stooping down before him, Juicy dragged down several longish locks
Troy reached out and took the money. He counted the bills and placed all but five singles onto the table. Before she could protest he walked past her.
Juicy didn't want him to go. Strange...he scared her sometimes, but she didn't want him to leave. She trailed behind him and he looked at her over his shoulder with his hand poised over the door knob.
"Are you going to be okay, Juice?"
"Yeah." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm going to be alright." She responded boldly. "You go on ahead. I don't want to make you nervous."
Troy opened the door then paused. He closed it.
"There is one favor that you can do for me."
Juicy tried to hide her pleasure. "Sure, anything, Troy."
"Well, since you do hair, I could really use a haircut."
"You want me to cut your hair? Sure. Did you want a perm or maybe highlights-?"
He was shaking his head. "Just a hair cut."
Juicy circled him slowly, studying his hair to see the style that his head was crying for. She reached out and fluffed certain areas with her fingers, other areas she swept back, then forward. It was still a bit damp from his shower and she recognized the tropical smell of her shampoo on him.
"Come on." She indicated for him to follow her into her 'business' room. She had a rolling barber’s chair there. There was another television and some comfortable seating and piles of hair magazines. Beside the chair was a table that contained, what Troy would consider, devices of torture! The room had a smell that he found both foreign and comforting.
"Sit down, make yourself comfortable. I have to go to the bathroom. Be right back."
Troy picked up and examined strange metal combs and wands. He leafed through some of the magazines sometimes in disbelief at the more outlandish styles. Then he reclined in the barber's chair riding it first up then down.
He straightened when he heard Juicy return. She had freshened up, brushed her teeth and fixed up her dreds. Troy noted that she was wearing khaki capris and a rhinestone studded shirt that hugged her large body in a sexy way. She was still wearing her doo rag, but it now seemed somehow decorative.
Juicy turned on the radio and seemed to fall perfectly into a professional persona. She hummed softy and picked up a cape which she draped around his shoulders. With a delicate touch that surprised him, Juicy fastened the cape snuggly around his neck. Troy tried to ignore the sight of her rounded breast just at his eye level.
He hadn't really wanted a haircut. He trimmed his own hair when he got the chance. It wasn't great looking but at least it kept it out of his eyes. But it was the tone of Juicy's voice that had given him pause. He'd been watching out for her for days and it was just hard to cut it off. She hadn't wanted him to go either. That was clear. Maybe she was lonely sometimes, too.
She spritzed his hair from a water bottle as she walked around the chair instead of swiveling it. Every time her breast came into eyesight Troy clenched his hand slightly. She had nice breasts. The thin material showed a slight blue tint of her bra beneath. There was even a bit of nipple impression visible.
"You've been cutting your own hair, haven't you?"
"Huh? Oh. Yeah."
Her hands ran through his hair, slightly grazing his scalp. Troy shuddered involuntarily. God, what was she doing to him...?
She used a narrow tooth comb to gently smooth out his hair. It felt wonderful.
Juicy continued humming then the first snip. Lost in her work she didn't realize that his breathing was shallow and labored and that his eyes were glued to the sight of her breasts.
She hadn't had very much experience with white men's hairstyles. She was happy for the practice. She reached down to lightly tilt his chin upward and noticed two red spots on each of his cheeks. What in the hell was up with that?
Stooping down before him, Juicy dragged down several longish locks
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