All persons engaged in sexual activity in this story, are over 18 years of age.
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This story took place in the 1970s in the United Kingdom when the 'World Wide Web' or Internet as it is known today, was barely an infant and not available to private individuals. As for mobile phones, they were only at an experimental stage. This meant that knowledge of sex was gleaned mostly by chats with 'experienced' friends or looking at adult magazines aka Playboy, Penthouse, Hustler and so on.
Boys and girls were nowhere near as mature or knowledgeable about sex at age 18 compared to many of today's 14 or 15 year olds, thanks mainly to the multitude of internet 'information' that can now be accessed by anyone that can type 'sex' into a search engine.
All of this is to set the scene for you, to make you aware that in the 1970s, unlike the present, many boys and girls at age 18 were considerably naïve when it came to real sexual encounters.
Obviously, if you have read the previous chapters you will be more in tune with the characters.
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Since our risky, but very exciting episode in the kitchen, we hadn't had much opportunity to be alone for long enough to do much else. We had continued to touch and excite one another during the regular half hour we spent most evenings clearing up after dinner, but nothing on the scale of the previous time. Mom looked pleased that we seemed to be getting along better and acting more like adults, so we wanted to keep it that way, and tried not do anything to make her think otherwise.
Another couple of weeks went by without us having any alone time, but I had kept the cum flowing into tissues, at least daily, just remembering the feel of my sister's body and reliving all the things we had already done. I am sure Sue was doing something similar in her room from time to time, but we didn't discuss it.
On Monday of the following week, Mom looked hard at me as we were all having breakfast.
"Ben, you need to get a haircut, you're going to look like a girl soon," she said.
"Aw Mom, it's not that long," I replied, "anyway, lots of my friends have long hair."
"That may be, but yours is looking decidedly scruffy, isn't it Mike?" she asked, involving Dad, who had his nose buried in his paper as usual.
"Yes dear." His usual response.
"See, even your dad thinks so," she said.
"I'll get it done when I get time," I said, in between mouthfuls of toast, hoping to close down the subject.
"I am sure you can find the time Ben," she carried on, then paused a minute. "In case you haven't noticed, we've got a trained hairdresser in the family," she said, looking at Sue, "I'm sure your sister could do it for you."
"What, let Sue cut my hair?"
"Why not?" She does mine. Can you see anything wrong with it?" she said, turning her head this way and that.
"No, but...well, she does ladies hair, it might make it look even more like a girl's hair."
"Of course not, hair is hair, isn't it Sue?" Mom said, pointedly looking at Sue for confirmation.
Sue had the faint beginnings of a smirk on her face, "I guess so," she confirmed.
"There, that's settled then, your sister can do it, and as a bonus, it won't cost you anything will it," she said, triumphantly.
"I'm not going to sit in that salon with all those women around giggling and whispering," I stated.
"Don't worry Ben, I can do it after the salon closes," Sue said, " Mrs Collins often lets me lock up if I have a late customer, I'll ask her tomorrow and you can pop round after college on Tuesday evening."
"Or you could do it here?" Mom said.
"I could, but there would be hair everywhere and they have the right chairs and special washbasins in the salon, it will be easier there," Sue replied.
"Yes ok," Mom smiled, "I suppose you probably won't want me watching you either Ben," she said. "There," Mom chimed in again, "that wasn't too difficult was it Ben, all sorted."
I glared at Sue who was grinning now at my discomfort. What was she playing at, I thought we had become good friends?
The last thing I wanted was Sue hacking at my hair, I couldn't understand why Mom felt it was so important, but I knew I couldn't get out of it now.
"Thanks Sue," I said, moodily, "I will really look forward to it." I scowled at her.
"Oh, you should," Sue said, "I am very good at it, I might even treat you to a head massage that we have been practicing lately." She had that grin on her face that I had seen before, and her eyes had taken on a sparkle.
"Think yourself lucky that you have such a talented sister," Mom blithely continued, "I am sure she will make a good job of it."
"I'd better go," Sue said, getting up from the table, "I don't want to be late for work. Don't forget Ben, Tuesday evening, I'll tell you a time later."
She got up and as soon as she was out of Mom's eyeline, grinned at me and raised her eyebrows.
What did that mean, I wondered, there is no fun in getting your haircut...or so I thought.
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She had told me the same evening, in front of Mom, that her boss didn't mind her staying a bit later on Tuesday and for me to be at the salon at 6pm. She assured me that all the customers and other staff would have left by then, so I wouldn't have to be embarrassed. It seemed I had no choice.
As arranged, I turned up at her workplace around 6pm, to find the door locked and the 'Closed' sign up. I tapped on the window and after only a few seconds, I heard the lock being turned and Sue opened the door.
"Ahh you made it then?"
"Looks like it," I said.
"Come in then before someone thinks we are open and wants an appointment."
She shut and locked the door behind me, then ushered me past the reception desk to the row of empty chairs, each with its own washbasin behind it.
I saw she was wearing what I can only describe as a cream coloured, coverall uniform, that was knee-length and buttoned right up to the neck. It was slightly tailored to the waist, and was tight over her breasts, so that it showed off her figure. I guessed it was a practical garment to protect her clothes from hair, water and whatever products they used on their customers, but she looked good in it all the same.
"Right," she said, very business-like, "take your coat off and put your arms through this gown, and then sit in one of the chairs so I can see what needs to be done."
"I don't want much done," I emphasised, as she tied the gown behind me, and I sat down.
"I have to cut it a bit shorter and tidy it up, unless you want Mom on your case later?" she said.
"Yea, ok, let's just get it over with," I said, disingenuously.
"Right, lean back and let your neck go into the cut-out of the washbasin."
"Like this," I said, feeling her pulling my hair from round my neck so it hung in the basin.
I heard the water running, and her hand splashing in it, presumably testing the temperature.
"Yep, now just stay still."
When I go to the usual barber shop, he just cuts it as it is. This was a new experience and I didn't know what to expect. I suddenly felt the warm water spray on my head, and her hands helping to wet my hair. Once she was satisfied it was good and wet, she stopped the water and I heard her pumping something into her hands then starting to rub it into my hair. The feel of her hands as she firmly massaged what I assume was shampoo into my hair, was surprisingly pleasant and I began to think that maybe this might not be as bad as I thought.
Once the shampoo was fully and deeply massaged into my hair, she reduced the pressure on her hands and started to massage more gently, running her fingers all over my scalp. Wow, I was getting to like this. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feelings I was experiencing. It was very relaxing, but also a bit sensuous in the way she was doing it.
Eventually, I heard the water running again and she washed it all off, using the warm water and her fingers combing through my hair to remove the soapy suds.
I was sort of disappointed as I thought that would be it, but she repeated the operation with some other solution. I wasn't sure what.
"Conditioner," she said quietly, almost reading my thoughts.
I was really getting to like the feelings she was giving me. No one had done this for me before and I was starting to see the attraction of the process. I wondered if all her usual clients got the same treatment and if they felt any 'feelings' when she did it.
She carried on; rubbing my temples, the back of my head, round the centre, and generally moving me into a state of relaxation. Whether it was the intimate contact or just the way she was doing it, I wasn't sure, but I also felt an edge of something almost sexual in her touch.
I didn't know how long she had been doing it, but it had to come to an end. The water ran again, and she repeated the rinsing until it all the solution had been washed away and then towelled my hair to get rid of the excess moisture.
"Okay, you can sit up now." she said, "time to cut."
She swung the chair round, combed my hair out and started cutting.
I have to give her credit, she was fast. The scissors flew round as if they were wielded by 'Edward Scissor Hands', and fairly quickly, a mountain of hair surrounded the chair. She then appeared with a cut-throat razor, which worried me a bit.
"What you going to do with that?"
"It's just for layering," she said.
As she passed by, I couldn't resist moving my hand from under the gown and stroking her pert bottom.
"Hey, keep still if you want to go home with both ears," she said, moving away.
I could see her grinning in the mirror. I sat like a statue.
It didn't take her long to do the finishing touches and then dry it all off with a warm-air hairdryer.
"Well Sir, what do you think?" she asked, holding a mirror behind me so I could see the back.
Actually, I was impressed. She had done just enough to satisfy Mom, without scalping me.
"That's much better than I expected," I said candidly.
"I think it's much better than it has ever looked," she said, "but if you are not satisfied..." she picked up the razor again as an implied threat.
"No, that's great, thank you. Can I get out of this now?"
