I had a similar deal with a hair dresser. She would grind her crotch on my knuckles as my hands sat on the end of the arm rest. I wasn't about to move my hands. I must have been 12. Mom wondered why I always insisted on that particular one, since they all did pretty much the same job on my hair.
[When I was about 16 my barber hired this 20 something assistant. The things she would do to me with her leg as she reached for the top I just can’t say here. I never understood why she didn’t just lower the chair.]
About 10 years ago I was undergoing localized, intense radiation treatments for prostate cancer. The young lady that prepped me had to, of course, make me drop my pants. She did drape me with a small cloth however.
Well, one morning she was bending over me to set up the lead blocks. She had revealed a very nice cleavage and was particularly appealing that morning.
Strangely enough, and to my great embarrassment, the cloth began to rise.
Noting same, she took my unhooked belt and gave me (it) a little slap. DAMN!
I had a similar deal with a hair dresser. She would grind her crotch on my knuckles as my hands sat on the end of the arm rest. I wasn't about to move my hands. I must have been 12. Mom wondered why I always insisted on that particular one, since they all did pretty much the same job on my hair.
I had a similar deal with a hair dresser. She would grind her crotch on my knuckles as my hands sat on the end of the arm rest. I wasn't about to move my hands. I must have been 12. Mom wondered why I always insisted on that particular one, since they all did pretty much the same job on my hair.