My Sexual History, Part Nine: A Night in the Hair Salon

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One autumn, I was sent to the provincial capital for training. The training school turned out to be my alma mater.
The training wasn't long, only about half a month. I found that after so many years away, my alma mater hadn't changed much. The library where I lost my virginity with my first real girlfriend was still there, only it was no longer a library; it was now an office building. I came here for a walk in the evening, overwhelmed with emotion.
One day, after a long day of classes, I was really tired. I took a walk on the tree-lined path at the foot of the mountain. I saw a barbershop by the roadside. Thinking my hair was getting long, I decided to get it cut. So I went in.
Inside, it was basically just a chair, a mirror, and myself. The barber was a woman who looked to be about twenty-five or twenty-six years old; I vaguely remember her being a little chubby, but quite pretty. She was very careful while cutting my hair and spoke very gently.
The barber chair had armrests; I placed my hands on the armrests and leaned back in the chair—it was very comfortable. I closed my eyes, enjoying the service.
I don't know when it started, but I noticed the barber's body touching my hands. When getting a haircut, they drape a large shawl over your head to prevent stray hairs from falling on you. This shawl completely covered my hands and arms. Did the hairdresser think my hands were the armrests of the chair? Is that why she pressed her body against my hands without feeling anything? She was about 1.6 meters tall, and the armrest of the chair was right at her crotch, right at the base of her thighs—it was so stimulating.
I subtly stretched my hand forward, giving her more opportunities to touch me. Sometimes it was her thighs, and sometimes even her private parts. Although both felt soft, her thighs had a slight elasticity, but her vulva was just a soft, warm sensation.
I grew bolder and turned my hand over under the shawl, so my fingertips were facing upwards. After a while, sure enough, it came again—that soft feeling traveled through my fingertips, it felt so good. But then it was gone again. I waited; she finished cutting the left side, then the right, and then moved to the back, not touching me for a while.
I thought, "Oh, that's it?" I felt a pang of regret. After the haircut, she asked if I wanted to wash my hair. I said I would. She washed my hair, sat down, and started blow-drying it. I knew this was my last chance, so as soon as I sat down, I turned my hands over and waited.
She picked up the hairdryer and immediately leaned in. My fingers could feel the flesh there as two pieces, and I could even feel where the opening was. I knew this was my only chance, so I used a little force with my middle finger. She clearly felt it and moved back a little, but didn't break contact. I didn't dare to move again, afraid of scaring her. If she really moved back a little, I'd be out of luck. In this game, I was completely passive, relying entirely on her to lean in.
She stood there, letting me touch her vulva the whole time she was blow-drying it. Although it was autumn, she was wearing a skirt, making her fleshy figure very obvious.
After the haircut, I sat there and chatted with her for a while. I knew she came from the county town and was looking for an opportunity. The hair salon was newly opened and didn't have a name yet. She asked me to help her name it. I said, "Celebrity Hair Salon." She asked what it meant, and I explained. She thought it was nice and said that would be her name. I didn't leave until almost evening.
The next day after class, I went to the hair salon again. She was the only one there; there were no other customers. I said I was tired after a long day of classes and asked her to wash my hair. She was happy and gave me a dry shampoo. She wore a large shawl, poured some shampoo on my head, and massaged my scalp while washing my hair.
Dry shampooing is different from a haircut; it's mainly done at the back, so my hands weren't really involved. But she still stood in front of me on my right and massaged me for a while. I seized the opportunity and boldly massaged her pubic area as well. She twisted her body and lightly tapped my head.
After rinsing the shampoo foam off my hair, she sat back down and continued the head massage. When her hands were on my forehead, she pressed my entire head against her chest. I could clearly feel the softness there. After she finished
blow-drying my hair, she said, "So handsome."
I sat with her for a while longer. Seeing that there weren't many customers, I asked how business was. She said it wasn't doing well since she had just opened. Seeing that it was almost lunchtime, I offered to treat her to dinner. She said she couldn't, that she shouldn't. I said I was alone too, and eating wouldn't be fun. Could you keep me company? She hesitated for a moment, then agreed.
I ordered a few dishes and some Coke at a small restaurant not far from her shop.
After dinner, I accompanied her back to her shop. She opened the door, and soon customers started coming in. She got her hair done, and I sat in a corner of the shop, looking through the newspapers and magazines left by her customers.
It was past ten o'clock. Suddenly, several girls came into her shop, and she busied herself carrying blankets and other things to a back room. It turned out there was another room in the back that belonged to her, connected by a small corridor. After a while, she and another girl brought out a wire bed—one of those narrow, foldable metal beds.
She made the bed and said these were all her fellow villagers who worked at the restaurant and slept there at night. She looked after them, closed their room door, closed ours, and shut the main door, leaving only the two of us in the room. Suddenly
, it was quiet. We undressed and went to sleep. The wire mesh bed was probably only fifty centimeters wide; it felt cramped even for one person, let alone two. We had to lie on our sides, hugging each other to avoid falling off. After getting excited, I took off my pants and touched her vagina; it was smooth and hairless. The most comfortable way to sleep was to lie on top of each other, her on top of me, me on top of her. When I penetrated her, she said it hurt a little. I inserted it little by little, slowly thrusting in and out, and finally ejaculated. She asked if I would get pregnant. I said no. That night, the bed was too small to sleep on, so we tossed and turned, getting on and off, constantly fucking, but we couldn't move too much, just inserting and leaving it inside. When it went soft, she would stroke it with her hand; when it got hard again, she would insert it. Sometimes we would doze off for a while. The wire mesh bed could collapse at any moment. Several of her sisters lived next door, so I didn't dare make a big move.
What I remember most about that night was the cold. It was already early November, and the blankets were too small; we were all naked, and a cold draft kept blowing in. The places where our skin touched were warm, but the rest of the room was cold.
I got up early the next morning because there was noise coming from her sisters' room. Back in my dorm, I collapsed into bed. Although I hadn't had a very satisfying night, I'd ejaculated several times, and I was exhausted.
I went again the next day. That night, she said she couldn't sleep at her place anymore. She was worried about gossip among her sisters, and it wouldn't be good if it reached her hometown.
A few days later, the training ended, and I went back home. About a few months later, I went on a business trip to the provincial capital specifically to see her, just to keep her company. That evening, I offered to take her for a walk. She agreed. In the same spot near the library, in a secluded place, I pulled at her skirt, wanting to fuck her again. She said no, she didn't want to do that anymore. I asked her why, and she said she knew, that I was just someone people like her played around with.
I had nothing more to say. I accompanied her back to the hair salon, and at the door, she said, "You can go now."

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My Sexual History, Part Nine: A Night in the Hair Salon

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