Tanning Salon

The sun was intense and the air buzzed with warmth when I opened the tanning salon at seven o’clock this morning, an early summer day that promised few customers.

I didn’t mind; I was out late last night, sipping margaritas with a few friends at the La Mexa Restaurant bar. The drinks went down a little too easy while we teased the bartender and flirted with the guys playing pool, and my hangover was no surprise.

The cheap tequila and recently turning 21 probably didn’t help, either.

Somehow I managed to unlock the front door, turn on the OPEN sign, flick on the lights, and pick up a movie magazine from the lobby, all without spilling my mocha. I made my way to the reception desk, thinking it might be an okay day – until I caught the edge of the desk with my little toe.

“Damn!”

No need for that coffee - I was awake now!

Cursing, I limped to the back bathroom where I slipped off my short-heeled sandal and gingerly placed my foot on the toilet seat. I found a little skin rubbed off the side of my pinky toe and some apple-red nail polish chipped away, but it didn’t look serious.

I had just enough time to check my makeup, tuck a few blonde locks of hair behind my ears, pull my t-shirt over belly piercing, and smooth my jeans over my ass before the first customer walked in.

"Hi, Sara."

I returned to the lobby, still holding my sandal, and was greeted by a middle-aged brunette standing by the desk. She’s a frequent customer, but I can never remember her name - Jane or Joan or something. She usually stops in before she goes to work.

"Morning!" I said, sounding more cheerful than I felt. I sat down behind my desk and tapped the space bar on my computer. "What's your number?"

"9-0-3-8. Can I get 20 minutes?"

"No problem, Jamie," I said, reading her name from the computer monitor. I punched her time into the control panel on the wall. "You'll be in room four."

"Thanks!"

Jamie disappeared down the dim hall, and after I heard her door snick closed I started thumbing through my magazine. I couldn’t really concentrate, though, because the slight throbbing in my toe matched a mild throbbing in my head. I put my foot up on the edge of my desk and gently massaged it, working my thumbs from the top to the toes, then back down the arch, and this seemed to help.

The doorbell dinged and I glanced up as another customer walked in. It was Jim, an older guy, tall and lean - cute, but a gold band on his finger. He worked the night shift and tanned after work. He always smiled and appeared to be in a good mood, which I didn’t understand considering the hours he worked.

“Hey, Sara. How’s it goin’?”

“Oh, not bad. You?”

“Can’t complain.” He saw me rubbing my foot. “What’s up?”

“Mm, stubbed my toe,” I said, somewhat embarrassed.

Jim winced. “Ouch! That’s a nice toe, too. Hold on a second.” He went over to the soda machine in the corner, popped in some change, and came back with a can.

“Put this on it,” he said, offering me the soda.

I looked up at him through my bangs. “You sure? I’ll pay you for it.”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it,” he said. “If you don’t drink it I’ll take it with me.” I took the soda and thanked him, then punched up his usual time for his usual bed.

“Got me memorized, huh?” Jim joked, grabbing an extra towel from the rack and walking down the hall.

After he left, I nursed my toe with the icy can. While rolling its soothing coolness over my toe and thinking how thoughtful Jim was, I noticed that the way I was sitting allowed him to see right down the v-neck of my shirt. I wasn’t in the mood to put my bra on this morning and he must’ve had a superb view of my tits.

Well, it was too late to do anything about it, and I didn’t care. Jim was cool. Besides, I was still feeling a little horny from the night before. In fact, after teasing that bartender last night and crawling into bed alone, I wished I’d done more than tease. The guy had a great sense of humor, and if I crossed my long, tan legs the right way, and sucked on my straw just so, I could cause a bulging hard-on in his khakis.

Eventually, the dull pain in my toe disappeared and I pulled my foot off the desk. I soon heard Jamie’s bed click off, and a few minutes later the scent of her tanning lotion filled the room as she passed me and said goodbye.

So now it was just me, my magazine, my much-improved toe, and the hum of Jim’s tanning bed. I unbuckled my other sandal and took it off to get more comfortable, and then flipped through the magazine, reading the movie reviews but skimming the articles.

Before long Jim’s bed clicked off and the salon was quiet. It usually takes a couple minutes for customers to get dressed, so I decided to clean the bed Jamie used and then get Jim’s when he left. I grabbed the sterilizing solution and a fresh towel and went to room four.

While spraying and wiping, I listened for any sound from room five, which is where Jim was tanning. I didn’t hear anything, and by the time I finished cleaning bed four I began to think Jim fell asleep – something that happens to people all the time, even if they don’t work the night shift.

I stepped into the hall and stood in front of the louver door to Jim’s room and put my ear near the slats, but I didn’t hear anything. I looked through the slats, but all I saw was the carpet directly in front of the door.

“Jim?”

Figuring he was asleep, I knocked lightly. No answer. Did he leave while I was cleaning? I could’ve missed him, but he usually says goodbye. I assumed he’d do it today. I grasped the doorknob and it turned in my hand, so it wasn’t locked.

Slowly, I pulled the door open and peeked through the crack. The bed was empty. I cracked the door a little bit more and looked to my left. That’s where I saw him, naked, his back against the wall, stroking away at his cock.

Now, I’ve seen a boyfriend or two jacking off, but never a stranger. And Jim was really into it: His knees were slightly bent and his head was tilted up, eyes closed. His long dick arced out, shiny with oil, and his hand made luxurious twisting motions as it slicked up and down his shaft.

At this point I didn’t know what to do. I could’ve closed the door and snuck away, but my eyes were glued to what I was seeing. My mind raced between staying and going as this tan, tall man masturbated himself right in my line of sight.

A little ashamed and turned on at the same time, I watched Jim pull hard on his glistening cock, the tip of his tongue between his pursed lips as he savored his task. The horniness I felt last night returned, and I imagined putting my own hand on him.

Right then Jim turned his head to his left to check himself in the full-length mirror on the wall and caught me in the reflection, peeking through the door.

It took a moment for his brain to process that I was watching him, and just as long for me to process that he’d noticed.

Startled, all he said was, “Oh shit.”

I felt embarrassed - but I was also embarrassed for him. I opened the door and stepped into his room, reassuring him, “It’s okay, Jim. It’s okay. I thought you were asleep.”

He laughed and said, “Now I wish I was!”

I was laughing, too, which seemed to alleviate our embarrassment. “Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before!”

Jim tried to cover his hard-on with both hands as he turned toward his clothes, but it wasn’t working very well. His rock-hard erection rose above his hands and showed no sign of going anywhere soon. I watched as he released his cock to pick up his pants.

“Sorry, Sara. I’ll be out of here in a minute.”

The funny thing is I didn’t want him to stop what he was doing, and I felt disappointed that I didn’t get to see him finish. I was leaning on the wall and feeling bad for the guy, but I felt bad for myself, too. I thought, all this embarrassment for nothing? I couldn’t believe what I said next, but I couldn’t stop myself either.

“Want to finish?”

He paused, dumbstruck. “Huh?”

I gathered my remaining courage and quietly asked, “Want to finish?”

Maybe he sensed that this was his last chance before I lost my nerve; maybe it was the flush in my face and my stiff nipples under my t-shirt. Whatever it was, he hesitantly put his back to the wall and grabbed his greased-up cock again.

Standing beside him, I could see the two of us in the mirror and better observe him and his technique. Jim’s neatly circumcised cock was long and slender, curved slightly upward and glistening with the sheen of tanning lotion. The head of his cock looked like a red helmet, and his steely shaft was riven with engorged purple veins.

I could tell that he took care of himself. The muscles of his athletic body stood out and his firm ass was clenched with his efforts. His balls were shaved, too, and all the hair around his crotch was trimmed incredibly short. Before I knew what I was doing, I reached out with my right hand and caressed his balls with my fingertips.

Jim opened his eyes and gazed down at me, as if half-asleep. “Mm, Sara,” he said, his voice tight in his throat, “You are so sweet.”

“Finish,” I whispered.

I’d never done anything like this before, and I felt wonderfully dirty as I swirled my fingers and well-manicured nails around his scrotum. Hypnotized, I watched Jim’s hand squeeze up and around his cock head, causing dollops of pre-cum to form at the tip like drops of dew.

My heart beat faster and I could feel the heat coming off of him. The temperature in the room seemed to rise. How long had it been since I was this turned on? My nipples pushed two pointy peaks out of my shirt, and a warm sensation spread through my pelvis. No longer thinking, I cupped my left palm over my crotch and pressed hard, slowly rubbing up and down.

Jim watched and moaned softly. We were both getting into it, feeding off the sight of each other. Our eyes roamed over one another, feasting on the rawness of our mutual self-satisfaction.

Unable to get enough sensation on my clitoris, I slipped my hand beneath my thong panties. I dipped my index and middle fingers between my lips for lubrication, and then slid them up to my clit. It was hard, tingling, and before long I was circling my gooey fingers all over my bare, moist pussy.

Jim watched me and pumped his cock faster, his breath quickening. “Oh God,” he groaned. A silver strand of pre-cum stretched its way from the tip of his dick toward the floor, first an inch, then two. It looked so inviting, shiny and swaying with the motion of his strokes, and I became absorbed by the idea of catching his nectar on my tongue before it hit the ground.

I kneeled on the carpet in front of Jim as I dedicated my entire hand to thrashing my dripping snatch. I grabbed Jim’s upper thigh with my other hand, then looked into his eyes as I stuck out my tongue, curling it up and around that expanding thread of salty sap. I closed my eyes and swallowed, and a charge of electricity surged through my cunt.

I gazed up at Jim and moved my hand to match the speed of his.

“Oh Jesus, Sara.”

“Do it,” I said, all sense of shame gone. “Do it.”

The hole of Jim’s dick stared me in the face, widening as his hand rushed to the base of his cock, narrowing again when his fingers encircled the top. A stream of pre-cum flowed freely over and under his fluttering hand, squishing between his fingers as they twisted and meandered over his delicious length.

I increased the friction on my cunt as a warm coal, then a fire, grew deep inside of me. I knew I couldn’t take much more, and amid the sensations coursing through my body my only thought was consuming Jim’s seed when he came.

Jim bit down on his lower lip and beads of sweat broke out across his brow. We breathed together like animals in heat and I couldn’t wait anymore for him to release his load. I removed my hand from his thigh and securely wrapped it around his cock, replacing his hand with mine and pumping his hot, throbbing meat for all I was worth.

“Oh God, oh God” Jim uttered, barely able to speak.

The ripples and ridges of his slippery dick slid like a piston in my hand, and he began propelling his hips back and forth, shoving his throbbing cock into the vise-like grip of my delicate fist.

The fire in my cunt was about to blossom into an explosion. I wanted him to cum. I needed him to cum.

“Come on. Cum for me,” I begged.

“Oh Sara, oh Sara.”

Jim’s legs quivered and trembled and my hand sped to a blur as I furiously jacked his cock, and when I opened my gaping mouth to receive what I was begging for I was rewarded with a scalding rocket of pearly ropes across my teeth, lips and tongue.

Every muscle in my cunt and pelvis quaked to life as I gulped his sticky juice, and then they snapped as bolts of energy shot up my spine, down my arms and through my legs. An agonized squeal escaped my throat and I clutched Jim’s spurting tool even tighter, forcing more bursts of briny jizz to roar from his pulsating cock and across my sweaty face.

Jim slid to the floor and I fell on my back, exhausted. Our chests heaved with our ragged breathing. My right arm ached from the flogging I’d given Jim’s dick, and I felt the sperm that speckled my face trickle down to my ears, into my hair, leaving cool trails of cream upon my cheeks, chin, and throat.

Slumped against the wall, Jim smiled at me, sighing and shaking his head.

“Go girl...”

At first I didn’t know what he meant; when I lifted my head and peered over my tits, I saw my hand still thrust deep inside my soggy jeans.

Totally spent, all I could do was laugh.