I have struggled for some time to make a go of my hair salon 
because I really enjoy the work.  The clientele have always  been
young to middle-aged women who keep themselves up both  physically
and intellectually so most of them are a treat for  my mind as well
as my eyes when I'm doing their hair.  Most of  the time I keep
busy enough for me but not busy enough to  afford any help.  I
guess that's why I still have a small  shop.

A couple of weeks ago, however, a rather forward woman who has 
been coming to me for a couple of years made a request that  has
changed my whole business outlook.  I was just finishing  up an
elaborate wash and perm and I commented that she looked  absolutely
out of this world.  I also asked what the occasion  was.  She told
me that she was having a date with an old  boyfriend and wanted to
look as good as she could in the hopes  that she might kindle an
old flame.  Having said that, she got  a funny look in her eye and
asked me if I had ever trimmed a  pussy.  I tried to hide my
surprise with a haughty, "Of  course!  I am a hairdresser."  Well,
to make a long story  short, she and her roommate used to trim each
other's pussy  when she was going with him but now she lived alone
and hadn't  trimmed her cunt for some time.

My mind was racing as I thought of all the possibilities this 
could lead to.  At the same time I was thinking of more  practical
problems such as what a person charges for such a  service and how
to do it so that another customer won't barge  in during the
session.  I did have an old adjustable reclining  chair in the back
that I use for taking naps between customer  appointments.  It was
in good enough condition and could  probably even be rigged so as
to make trimming a crotch a  little easier.

Fortunately, my fingers and hands were on automatic as I  brushed
out her perm.  Announcing that I was finished, I asked  Ms. Terry
to adjourn to my backroom for the "final" trim.  I  boldly asked
her to remove her shorts and panties so I could  get started.  She
didn't hesitate and was shortly lying in the  chair, legs wide
apart and furry mound waving in the breeze.   I glanced down at the
bulge in my crotch and hoped she  wouldn't notice.  Then I sat down
on a short stool I had  placed between Ms. Terry's legs with comb
and scissors in  hand.  

I ran my fingers through her pubic hair suppressing a strong 
desire to slip a finger inside the delicate lips that could be 
seen through the separate strands.  Ms. Terry unashamedly  sighed
as I did so.  "You have a lovely pussy," I told her  truthfully,
"but you have let it get shaggy.  Would you like  it trimmed to a
certain length and do you want me to shape it  at the sides or top
at all."

"We used to trim it to about half an inch.  I don't know  anything
about shaping."  I didn't tell her that I didn't  either but it
sounded good.  With scissors in hand I began to  comb and trim. 
It took me longer than I expected because I  wasn't too anxious to
finish and also because I didn't want to  screw up and clip her
delicate skin anywhere.  When I did  finally get the length about
right, it looked to me like I did  need to shape the edges, or at
least trim her shorter their so  it didn't look so artificial.  I
also noticed that her  clitoris was much more pronounced than it
had been when we  started.  I continued touching it as much as I
could without  arousing suspicion.

I was all ready to saw I was finished when Ms. Terry said  between
deep breaths, "Would you mind finger fucking me?  I'm  so wet and
horny that I don't trust myself on the street in  this condition." 
I replied that I would only on the condition  that she let me kiss
this sweet creation lying before me.  She  sighed a "Yes" and I
buried my face between her legs.  She was  right.  She was wet and
she was horny.  With my nose rubbing  against her clitoris and my
tongue burrowing into her quim,  she gasped and bucked like I was
truly fucking her.  After two  or three climaxes, she begged me to
please fuck her.  I was  afraid I was going to have to masturbate
after she left.

Dropping my pants to the floor but without even stepping out  of
them, I thrust my stiff bone all the way in.  My balls  slapped
against her ass and I felt the sharp ends of her  trimmed pubic
hair burrowing into mine.  There was no  technique.  I didn't have
the control.  I simply groaned and  spurted gob after gob of sperm
inside the lady while  continuing to ram my rod back and forth
violently.  Sometime  during my amateur performance, she hit
another peak, squeeled,  and then went limp.  By the time I was
back in touch with  reality, Ms. Terry was almost businesslike. 
She sat up, took  a tissue from her purse, squoze out of her vagina
all our  combined juices onto it, and tossed it in the wastebasket. 


She pulled from her purse the price of the hiarcut and perm  then
fished out another $20 bill and asked if it would do for  the
"extra."  I said it would and a couple of generous tips,  too, if
she were so inclined.  "I am so inclined," she said.   She was up,
dressed and out the door before I realized that  she had left her
bikini panties behind.  I wiped myself with  them then tucked them
in the drawer for the next time I  helped her.

That little incident provided me with a few fantasies but  nothing
more until about six weeks later.  My last two  customers of the
day were Mrs. Smith, a grandmotherly type who  was having a
permanent, and Susan, her 15 year old  granddaughter who was
getting her hair trimmed and shampooed.   It was very pleasant
working with the two of them.  When they  were done and Mrs. Smith
was paying the bill, Susan began  pleading with her grandmother,
"Oh, Gramma, please ask him,  please!"

"Ask him yourself if you think its so important."

"I can't.  Its too embarrassing."

I broke in with, "What is it you want to ask?"  At that the  girl
did turn bright red and turned her face away.  Her  grandmother
explained, "Susan has heard that you trim ladies'  pubic hair.  She
was hoping I would ask you to confirm that  but frankly I don't
care.  I have never even so much as looked  at what I have there
and can't imagine doing so."

What a lead in for a sexualist like myself.  "Madame," I  began,
"you have no idea what you have missed.  While it is  true that
nature has done marvelous things to make the human  animal a work
of art, humans themselves have always been able  to improve on
things a little.  Why just look at your hairdo.   Left to what
nature might allow, and even assuming you kept to  meticulously
clean, as I'm sure you do your pubic hair, it  would not frame your
lovely face in the way it does now.  Even  Susan, whose age allows
nature to do her best, enjoys a change  from time to time with
short hair relieving the boredom of  long after a time and vice
versa.  

"Susan, I most certainly do trim pubic hair.  Or pussies, or 
quims, or cunts, or cunnies.  I do it professionally.  It is  not
a sexual thing with me although I have been told that some  of my
clients feel a certain sexual thrill or liberation when  they have
been trimmed "down there".  I just happen to have a  special right
now of half-price or two for the price of one if  either or both
of you is interested."

Susan giggled and blushed all the way to the top of her blonde 
head.  I couldn't see her face but I could see the redness of  her
skin through her golden hair.  Mrs. Smith didn't bat an  eye
although she did appear to be amused at Susan's  embarrassment. 
"Well, Bruce, I wouldn't have given it a  second thought a few
minutes ago, but you put forth a  convincing argument and I rarely
pass up a bargain.  Come on,  Susan, lets get the two for one."

Without waiting for Susan's reply, I ushered Mrs. Smith into  the
back room invited her to remove her undergarments and make  herself
comfortable in the chair.  What she had on was about  as non-sexy
as anything I had ever seen - overstretched  girdle, large white
cotton panties, and rolled at the top  nylons.  Underneath was
exactly what she had said, pristine  nature.  Tucking Mrs. Smith's
dress up so that I had complete  access to her crotch, I began
combing through the thick curls.   Her pussy hair was as dark black
as her head hair was gray.  

Just combing her out made a big difference.  I kept stepping  away
to let Mrs. Smith look at herself in the mirror and I  also wanted
to make sure that Susan saw what was going on.  I  noted that there
was no artificial modesty on Mrs. Smith's  part.  Before actually
cutting I explained to Mrs. Smith what  I wanted to do, "First I
will trim all the hair to about half  an inch.  This will give us
a better idea of what we're  dealing with.  I will then probably
suggest that we completely  shave the area between your anus and
your clitoris to show off  your labia to maximum advantage.  I will
then probably  recommend narrowing the pubic triangle by trimming
the edge  hairs progressively shorter."  Of course, I was making
all  this up as I went trying to imagine in my mind the difference 
between this pussy in front of me and that of the latest  Penthouse
centerfold.  

Mrs. Smith just smiled and told me to do what I thought best.  

As her pubic tresses fell to the floor, Mrs. Smith was getting 
noticeably arroused.  I had to be careful not to nick her 
protruding clitoris when working in that area.  Her hair was  so
dark that even at a half inch it covered her well.  But it  did
begin looking like the pussy I had seen in Penthouse and  so I
continued with my battle plan.  When I had finished  trimming and
washing all the loose hairs off, I was impressed.   Her labia were
even swollen so that the wet pink insides  glistened for both Susan
and I to see.  She was aroused but  was keeping it in well.  I had
to do the same.  I wasn't about  to play around with a witness in
the room.  What I did do was  make a big deal of showing Mrs. Smith
her own sex and inviting  her to touch herself here and there.  I
pointed out how the  new "cut" emphasized those sexual parts that
men would find so  enticing and arousing.  From the way that she
touched herself,  I was sure she had never done it before and just
as sure that  she would in the future.

Mrs. Smith pulled on her undergarments on then pushed Susan in 
front of the chair.  I attempted as much as possible to ignore 
the little tussle between the two women.  Susan was obviously  more
self-conscious than her grandmother but finally was  persuaded to
climb into the chair after removing her see-through bikini panties. 
That she was absolutely mortified was  obvious from her stiff
position, clenched fists, and tightly  closed eyes.

I sat down to size up the situation.  This was going to be  even
tougher than the last.  Susan's pubic hair was as blonde  as her
head.  It was also fine, straight, and relatively  short.  In
short, it looked better than any Penthouse model's  I had ever seen
so I was stumped about what to recommend.  I  began absentmindedly
to comb the soft tresses.   As my hand  grazed her downy mound it
felt like a bolt of lightning had  hit it.  The shock traveled to
my crotch and I realized too  late that my clothes were applying
enough pressure on my cock  to cause a climax.  My eyes glazed over
temporarily as I felt  the sperm spurt out again and again.  I so
much wanted to  caress and taste this little rose bud but couldn't
even touch  it without rasing suspicion.

Finally, hoping that I hadn't taken too long to decide and  hoping
that my climax hadn't been noticed by anyone other than  myself,
I sighed and said, "I'm sorry.  This is simply the  loveliest pussy
I have seen.  There is nothing I can do to  improve it.  If you
were three years older and wanted a  change, I would suggest
shaving but at this age you need the  length to assert your
maturity."  I must have said the right  words because Susan opened
her eyes smiling.  Her fists and  legs relaxed.  Mrs. Smith nodded
in agreement and the two of  us began walking up front.  

"You are truly a gentleman, Bruce," Mrs. Smith said as I  handed
her $12 change on her $20 bill.  "A man as horny as you  are,
sitting as close to virgin cunt as you were, is faced  with a great
temptation to do something, besides ejaculating  in your pants, I
mean.  Susan really does look perfect,  doesn't she?  I'll keep you
posted about how I feel about your  work on my little pussy." 

She did, too.  She and her husband had dropped to having sex  once
or twice a month.  When he discovered her examining her  trimmed
bush, he almost raped her on the spot.  They now have  sex 3 or 4
times a week and I only get to trim her every third  month because
he does it the other times.

I have kept in touch with Susan, also.  That day, after they  left,
I went back to find that Susan had hung her panties  right next to
the other pair I had had hanging there.  The  thought of her
walking around the town with a naked beaver has  fueled many a
fantasy for me since then.