James Birch was passing time on, sat at a table in a pavement cafe just around the corner from his small hairdressing salon. He was semi-retired now and rented a small premises catering for some of his old regular customers and taking on a limited number of new clients. He was enjoying no longer having to work the long full days. Now he was able to schedule his appointments so he had a couple of half days off during the week and only worked the very occasional Saturday morning.
Today, he was enjoying a Wednesday afternoon off, relaxing, and thinking back to the day just a few months ago when he gained a new very unusual client. He was sat at this same table when a very attractive lady came and sat near. He put her to be around her early sixties and decided she must have been one hell of a sexy and good looking woman in her younger years; she still looked pretty good now! She was showing just a few inches of thigh, dressed tastefully in a smart skirt and white blouse with a couple of buttons undone, revealing a little bit of cleavage. Some would say her blouse was a tad too tight as it pulled across her ample bosom, revealing the pattern of her bra. James had thought it made her look very fetching. He replayed the event and its consequences in his mind.
Lost in his thoughts while admiring the woman he suddenly realised she was looking back at him. More than a little embarrassed at being caught red-handed ogling her he offered a panicked explanation, which of course, was a complete lie.
'I must apologise for staring,' he began, 'I'm a ladies hairdresser you see - well partly retired now - I have a bad habit of studying all the different styles. I must say your hair is very nice, obviously you have an excellent hair-stylist.'
The woman sort of half smiled, unconvinced of his sincerity. 'Your gaze seemed to be focused a little too low to be admiring my hair - perhaps you were admiring another part of my anatomy!'
For most of his working life, James had dealt with all sorts of women and was able to tell when a lady had a sense of humour and would not be offended by a flirtatious, ribald comment.
'I think every part of your anatomy is worthy of admiration; you're correct, I took a good look when you were walking toward the table!'
'Thank you, for paying me that very nice but very naughty compliment. As for my hair, it's badly in need of some attention, I've been too busy to go and have it trimmed.'
'Well if I had my comb and scissors handy I'd do it while you drink your coffee! My name is James, by the way.
The woman laughed out loud.
'Very pleased to meet you James,' she said, giving him a lovely smile, 'My name is Mary. May I ask - where is your salon?'
'Just in the next street,' he told her, 'I have a young girl trainee from the college who works part-time for me, so my business is quite small now compared to what it used to be. I'm in my early 60s now so taking things a bit easier.'
'I expect you're fully booked up, then?'
'Well, I always have the option, and the space, to cater for an extra client or two if need be.'
'So could you fit me in for a simple wash, blow dry and trim?'
'As I'm just in the next street we could go when you've finished your coffee; an out of hours appointment. How's that for good service?'
James smiled to himself as he recalled how the woman had happily taken up the offer; within fifteen minutes he was already preparing to wash her hair.
He watched her as she removed her jacket and sat holding her head over the small wash basin, which caused her to push out her chest. James found himself staring down her blouse as now another button had popped open giving him a marvellous view of her cleavage and the dainty bra she wore. He made small talk as he gently washed her hair, massaging her scalp, whilst admiring her breasts, almost able to see her large nipples
'That feels nice,' she told him.
When he partially dried her hair he guided her to a chair and placed the cape around her shoulders to prevent any trimmed hair going down her back. As he did so they caught each other's gaze in the mirror. James had noticed she hadn't worried about refastening the buttons on her blouse. He threw caution to the wind and uttered a very direct and flirty comment.
'It's a shame I have to put this on and cover you up!'
Rather than look annoyed, Mary smiled at his reflection. 'Don't rush trimming my hair just so you can admire my breasts - be patient and you'll have time to take a good look when you remove it.'
'I'll look forward to that!' James told her, wondering if she was teasing him or whether it was a genuine offer.
As with all hairdressers James and his client chatted away making small talk while he trimmed, then blow dried her hair. Mary had an uncomplicated style that was easy to keep tidy. James mentioned this saying she could have a wild time being ravaged and her hair would remain tidy by just running a comb or brush through it.
'Yes,' said Mary, 'I've found that to be true, though it doesn't happen every week, these days.'
'Did it used to happen every week?' James blurted out, intrigued by her response.
'It happened more often than it does now.'
He turned on the blow drier and the sexy flirtatious banter came to an end.
A couple of minutes later the job was done; James carefully removed the protective cape - then looked surprised when Mary complained.
'I'm afraid some loose hairs have gone down my back and front, I'm itching already - you must not have tied the cape tight enough.'
James eyes couldn't help but keep drifting toward the sight of Mary's very erect nipples pushing against the material of her blouse. He was pleasantly stunned when she unfastened what was the fourth button and used her hand to try and wipe away the loose hairs that James could not even see.
'Do you not have a small soft bristled brush for this job?' Before he could answer Mary added, 'I'd better not take my blouse off here, someone might peer through the window. Can we do this in the back?'
Stuck for words, James, now feeling quite jittery at the mention of his new client taking off her blouse, located the purpose made soft brush and directed Mary toward the rear of the premises, following her into the small room he used for storage and for times he could sit and relax between dealing with customers.
'I hate it when this happens; it makes me come out in red blotches.'
