Grateful Salon Owner Says Thank You

I was living the dream. At 24 years old, I owned my own house (with help from a rather greedy mortgage company) in a village near Windsor in leafy Berkshire to the west of London.

I bought it with Tracy, my fiancé of 4 years and stacked a whole heap of future plans in every room of the house. This included extending the house to the side to provide a huge kitchen, utility room and bedroom above with dressing room and en suite.

But Tracy had other plans and they involved a local postman. Although he never delivered in our area, he did get busy stuffing things in Tracy's most personal letterbox while I was on nights. Worst still, I came home with a migraine and caught them fucking in our kitchen.

The postman had bought a friend with him, who was casually watching telly naked as my fiancé was fucked whilst bent over the breakfast bar in the next room. I never did find out if the TV watcher had also fucked her or was about to, as how could I ever believe any fucking words that came out of Tracy's lying mouth?.

It was quite a scene. God knows what he neighbours thought at 1.30 am as I was shouting an swearing like a madman, which did nothing to relieve my headache. Tracy left the house a week later back to her Mum's. We had tried to talk things through, but the idea of her being spit roasted by these repulsive older men in my own home was too much to bear.

I still don't understand what on earth she was thinking. We were very adventurous and had discussed sex with others when we were pissed, but nothing ever came of it. But I would have willingly indulged her threesome desires if she had asked. I loved her.

I am Dave and I work on a maintenance crew at Heathrow airport 18 miles away. I have always been handy, especially with wood after watching my Dad who was a carpenter. I was making things from timber from the age of 9 including a wardrobe in my bedroom by the age of 12.

Despite working shifts at the airport, the pay wasn't great, so I supplemented it by doing odd jobs here and there. I got work usually by word of mouth, but since Tracy's departure, I took on the entire mortgage as I needed to get some more income. So instead of little cash jobs here and there, I set up my own business with a second hand van, some new tools and even a website. I got a few mates on board to help with stuff I couldn't do. (I hate decorating, plastering and am not qualified to work on gas equipment). Work was picking up, in fact I was rushed off my feet.

To be honest, Tracey's unexpected departure and the manner it which it ended had really hurt me emotionally. I dealt with it by throwing myself into work. I am no psychologist, but I was clearly in denial of how hurt I was I suppose. Working seven days a week was a more healthy and cheaper way of surviving than drinking and enabled me to restore my damaged motivation.

Sexually, life was a bit of a struggle. I had a few conquests since unexpectedly finding myself singe which fulfilled an urge. But none were wife or mother of my child material which is what I wanted, indeed, is what I thought I had with Tracy.

Sex with someone new is exciting of course, but Tracy and I were good in bed. Sex was instinctive and comfortable as she was filthy and up for anything....... As I was to find out to my cost.

Ange, my 49 year old hairdresser was also my unofficial counsellor and listened to me moaning about my life. Of course, that is part of her job and she said all the right things. I enjoyed seeing her to be honest. At twice my age, I appreciated her looks and her conversation, but never really wanted to fuck her. I did wonder what she might be like in bed, but she wasn't my cup of tea to be honest.

I have never been a big tits man. I love them, but they are not on the top of my list of needs in a woman. Ange was carrying a big load which I regularly admired. Frankly, I had no choice as they were often climbing out of the captivity offered by her poorly fitting bra and low cut tops. What those tits were doing on such a slender frame was a mystery. They appeared natural though as far as I could make out.

She spoke very well and came from a wealthy family. Her parents wanted her to live her life by going to Oxford, entering law and marrying a barrister, before popping out a brood of babies directly into boarding school in between fox hunting weekends.

Ange had different ideas and dropped out of school, dyed her hair red and lived with some fellow punks in a squat. She had been arrested three times for possession of weed and coke and even admitted to briefly sleeping with her landlord to pay the rent.

In the years since then, her relationship with her family has become less estranged. She has a close relationship with her Mum and sister, but hardly any contact with her Dad, despite the fact that he still helps her financially.

Even though I didn't fancy her, it is quite an intimate thing having your hair cut by a woman. Her posh voice and the occasional personal conversations and admissions, often made me hard under that cape thing she covered me with. She was always always really friendly, but after her divorce at 43 she became very flirty. We formed a friendship almost exclusively around regular messages and excuses of risqué or funny memes.

I had carried out a bit of work for her in her Salon and at her home. We had become the most unlikely of friends, especially after Tracy left. In fact she was my only female friend. In a business deal, she lent me a sizeable sum of money to buy my van and some tools. It was a generous offer as, with my huge mortgage and other outgoings, a bank wouldn't have given me a loan. It was clear that she had a few quid behind her.

I had decorated her salon a year ago before. It was a hell of a job, as to minimise her loss of income, I started Saturday evening after working at the airport all day, and worked hard all weekend to open Tuesday when I went back on shift. It was exhausting but not an unusual type of job I was doing at the time.

Fast forward 18 months and I'm in her salon getting a trim. Ange rarely cut hair now as her income came from renting chairs and space to six self employed hairdressers. It was a curious arrangement to me, but apparently normal practice in the hairdressing world.

Ange had her special customers that she had known for a while and cut their hair a few times a month in between working on the reception and admin. Today I had a super hard erection from Ange's soft touch. She was very touchy, excessively so today, but she was getting no complaints from me.

The reason soon became clear as she asked if I could repurpose a huge scruffy storeroom at the rear of her shop into a 'spa area'. It would house a sauna,  a sun bed booth and massage area. Again, she intended to rent out this area to a third party.

It was a big job for me as it involved a lot of construction work and of course, I can only work 2 to 4 days at a time before being on shift again. I priced the job up and Ange said yes almost immediately.  

The next 3 months was a hectic blur of working at Heathrow and then the hairdressers without a single day off.   Paul and Kevin did the plastering and electrics while I built the internal walls, new floor, insulation, stud walling and dry lining. It was a good job and it looked really professional when I handed it over.

The last day of the contract, I arrived at 7pm after a shift to finish off. Ange was excited as the sauna pod and massage table had arrived, albeit 2 weeks late. By 9pm I had finished my work. The sauna was up to temperature and heated massage table was in place.

I called Ange in to check the height of a large mirror I had installed at side the massage table to make the space look bigger. She was absolutely buzzing with excitement. As I sat on the massage table, she literally skipped around this new space with her huge tits dancing in front of her.

Stopping behind me to wipe a mark off the mirror, she turned and placed her hands on my shoulders either side of my neck.

"Oh dear, someone is a bit tense," she remarked.

To be honest, her touch surprised me and I had indeed tensed up for a second.

"It's been a long day, Ange, but I can't tell you how happy I am you are so pleased with the Job," I replied. It was a genuine comment as it was my biggest construction job so far.

Rubbing my shoulders and neck, at first in a friendly way, soon it turned into a proper sitting up neck and back massage, my first ever. Fucking hell, she was good, she was very good. As she worked her magic along my next and over my tee shirt around my shoulder blades, I felt weak and totally relaxed.

"If you take your shirt off and I can do a better job," she urged.

"Are you sure?" I replied, somewhat hesitantly. Not so hesitant was my cock who woke up rapidly to the prospect of what might be about to occur.

"You deserve it Dave as you have worked so... hard."

As she emphasised the word 'hard', I notice she had glimpsed my now fully erect cock through my jogger bottoms that did nothing to hide my involuntary arousal. Ignoring her comment and my slight embarrassment, I pulled my T-shirt over my head and waited for her to continue.

"Sorry, I usually warm this up," she explained as a shock feeling of cold hit my shoulders after she applied some oil. It smelt lovely and warmed up on my skin in seconds. The massage was transformed now into something much more amazing.

More oil was poured on as Ange extended her magic touch to my arms. Stretching each one in turn and forcing relaxation into every muscle - even my fingers. She had some crap spa music playing on her phone now, but it was working to add to the aroma of the oil and my excited state.

"Why not lay on the bed and be my first customer?" Were the magic words I heard next. She had me caught under her spell.

"On my back?"

"No, face down, but you will have to remove those dusty joggers first."

"Really?"

"I need to get to your back and legs and they are a bit dusty."

I wasn't sure about any of this. Was the door locked? I was already shirtless and would be alone with Ange soon, wearing just my boxers and a hard-on. Even as I ran these anxieties through my head, I had slipped off my boots and joggers and had found myself with my head through the face hole in the bed and laying on my hard-on in a somewhat uncomfortable and vulnerable position.

Ange had put her oil on a warming plate and although it was still cool, it was a bit more tepid now as she poured a gallon of it on my back and got to work.

She adjusted the bed lower to accommodate her diminutive height and ran her hands across my shoulders and then my back, smoothing out the oil. Her touch alternated between soft and fucking painful, but before I could yelp, the strokes were gentle again. She was very good.

She traced my spine down to the small of my back and up again. A bit more oil was needed and as she spread it out with long strokes down my spine, she caught my boxer's waistband with her thumb a couple of times before saying,

"I am really worried I might get this massage gel on your boxers. Can I make a suggestion that you take them off?"

"It's ok, Ange, it will wash off," was my pathetic reply.

"But I can't do the long strokes," she pleaded, adding, "Come on, it's nothing I haven't seen before."

I was 24 and no virgin, but I was feeling bit intimidated by Ange, and if I was honest, I always had. But my hard on and general feeling of arousal was winning. I had never had a massage before and wasn't sure if I should be reacting like this, but I was feeling really turned on and wondered what might happen next.

I made a right fuck up of removing my boxers. I was face down and tried to wiggle out of them whilst hiding my erection. I felt such a bloody idiot. Ange had to rescue me by pulling them off for me. That act did nothing to calm me down. Ange covered my buttocks with a pointless small towel and carried on.

More oil, this time on both calves and upper thighs. It was really warm now and felt amazing as Ange caressed my feet and legs moving higher all the time. The repeated sweeps of my upper leg felt so sexy as did Ange pulling my legs apart to access my inner thighs.

Her hand wandered very close to my balls several times in a teasing manner. I was screaming in my head for her to touch me, before she made contact resulting in a clearly audible moan from me. Partly as it felt incredible, but partly to confirm she was doing a great job. Next my buttocks got the hot oil treatment, with a fair bit poured into my arse crack

The earlier firm massage of my calves was now replaced by gentle touching of my inner thigh, which each sweep reaching my balls that were now swimming in oil that had run down from my buttocks. Ange's hand rested and caressed my balls a little longer on each sweep. She had to remind me to breath as it felt so amazing.

I was now completely under her control as was demonstrated as she asked me to sort of kneel up a bit with my arse in the air. It was not what I was expecting as I was fucking desperate to turn over onto my back so she could finish the job in any way she wanted. Her sitting on my oily cock was my preferred option, but anything would have done as I needed to urgently unload.

Now crouched down in this bizarre head down/arse up position, Ange had full access to my balls and took full advantage. My cock was no longer hanging down, but was hard and pointing forward, positioned parallel to my stomach. I was hoping beyond hope she would touch it soon but she was excellent at teasing and pushing me slowly towards the edge.

As if reading my mind, both of her hands held my cock momentarily making in spasm with excitement before slowly wanking me. She sandwiched my cock with both open hands, one either side of my grateful member. This changed after goodness knows how many minutes to one hand on my balls and the other stroking me with increasing speed.

Remaining with my head down, arse up position also make my asshole rather vulnerable. It was not an area I had explored sexually, well not mine anyway. Tracy loved a finger or tongue exploring her sensitive entrance and had a small but plug that came out to play when she was particularly adventurous or drunk (or both!). But my ass had never been part of our fun and frankly, I don't think we had even mentioned it.

Ange had other ideas. After a small pause in her wanking my cock, I now felt the warm sensation of the oil being poured into my butt hole. Part of me remained as apprehensive as I always was about exploring this area. I was young and sexually naive in many ways after all butt play was for gay guys..... wasn't it? But she was in control and clearly understood what men liked, so I didn't even think of protesting.

Ange shifted position and pulled my rock-hard cock so it was pointing down to the massage table whilst not stopping stroking me. Simultaneously, her other hand was massaging the copious amounts of oil she has poured over my buttocks. Slowly she gently concentrated her touch on my tightly closed asshole until the sheer pleasure of the feeling made my sphincter relax, given her access inside.

It was an odd feeling. As her finger explored previously uncharted territory, I wasn't sure if I liked it for half a second, and then I loved it for the next half a second. But these waves of uncertainty didn't stop the build up of sexual tension in me.

Ange seemed to recognise I was well on my way to cumming and was now wanking me with added gusto and with a noise halfway between a grunt and scream, I came. Jesus, it was a powerful cum. I fell forward and dropped onto the table a little as the extreme post cum waves of relaxation hit me.

"Oh Ange, that was fucking amazing, love."

"You are most welcome."

As I regained my faculties, I realised that as I had slumped down on the table in post orgasmic bliss, I had laid on a small pond of cum which was now all over my thighs. I turned over and sat up. My cock was still painfully hard and my groin area was a sticky mess. God knows how much cum she had managed to pump from me, but it seems much more than usual.

Ange grabbed some paper towels and began to wipe my thighs of the spillage. For a while it felt amazing. For the last 25 minutes, I hadn't got a good look at her, but to watch Ange gently clean me up started me off again and wondering if I might manage a second cum, maybe even fucking her?

All those thoughts ended as she touched my cock to wipe it. I occasionally get hypersensitive after sex, and this was one of those occasions. I jumped like a virgin who had never felt a woman's touch before.

"Sorry," she said with an apologetic grimace.

"It's OK, I will be fine in a minute," I explained, as if she needed it explaining to her. She had been around the block sexually and knew about this sensitivity.

"That really was amazing Ange, I would love to return the favour if you would like that?" I lied.

Maybe I am a gentleman who didn't like the idea of cumming without my partner enjoying the same feeling, or maybe I wanted to fuck her, to be honest, I wasn't sure, but the offer just flowed from me without much thought.

"Don't be daft, Dave. It's my gift to you for looking after me so well during the work that you have done."

Looking at my shrivelling but glistening cock I said;

"It looks like you have been doing the looking after as that was awesome."

"I am glad you enjoyed the first massage of the new salon Dave and perhaps we can work out a special arrangement if you would like further treatment, as I enjoyed myself too," said Ange.

"I would really like that, Ange. Maybe you could teach me how to massage a woman - I mean, properly so she could enjoy it like I just have. I would be an attentive student." I replied.

My cock suddenly sprung into action and started to get hard again at that comment.
"Yes, I can see that you would be very attentive," Ange joked with a smile. "Now clean it up, put it away and get dressed as we both have homes to go to. But Dave, not a word to anyone, please or our arrangement cannot happen."

"It's OK, Ange, you have my word."



"Good, as I look forward to having you as my student. I reckon we will both learn a lot about each other."

And she was right.