As some of my friends know, I have an extreme… fascination/ obsession with men’s shaving, heads, faces, I love it all.  I can explain in much more detail, but I think I’ll let this fantasy do the explaining…

The sun shines warm through my shop window, as I sit and wait for the next willing customer.  I start to get anxious and sweep the floor again, waiting…waiting…

  Finally, He walks through my entry, stretching lazily and rubbing his tired neck.  “The full treatment today S, and please don’t leave anything out” , He groans as he plops into my leather barbers’ chair.  He closes his eyes and waits for what’s next.

  I put the sheet across his shoulders and chest, being careful to keep his neck exposed.  gently raking my nails over his bald head as I pass behind him.  I place the warm damp towels, scented with sandalwood and clove over his head, face, and neck.  The aroma lifting across the shop like a call to manly relaxation.  As his muscles unknot, I carefully pare his fingernails, and buff them to a sheen, rubbing birch lotion into his calloused hands.

   I pull my pearl-handled straight razor from its case, today is Thursday, it’s even emblazoned into the gleaming blade.  I run the razor back and forth in careful caresses on the worn leather strop, making it precise and dangerous.  I prepare the musky soap cake in the shiny steel bowl.  A basin of steaming hot water sits filled beside it. 

  Removing the towel from His head, I brush a rich lather onto his skull. I carefully work the curves of his head with the straight edge.  The rough sound of the blade against the stubble making me shiver in contentment.  I breathe in the rich, manly scent of my products mixed with his cologne.  I sigh, as he smiles beneath the towels.  I finish playing with his brain, and remove the warm cotton cloth from his face and neck, I again create a cream between my fingers and the cake, and brush it onto his face and neck.

  I then come in front of him, and straddle his legs, so that I am sitting on his lap.  I  run my blade repeatedly over each contour, each rough spot.  I take care at his sideburns.  I am delicate across the curve of his chin, and sliding up his neck.  I purr and sigh as the pulse shows up at his jaw line.  The crisp snip of the scissors, trimming his goatee.  I squirm to get a better angle, my wiping towel brushing against my breasts.  I lean in close, my hard nipples pushing against him, as I make certain I’ve not missed a spot.  He takes in the scent of my hair as I run my hands over his head and cheeks looking for mistakes.  I reach behind him for the aftershave lotion, and he runs his teeth across my breast.  I rub the lotion dutifully into his soft skin.  I rise from his lap and brush off his pants with a hand, taking the time to pause for one brief rub across his fly. I shake the excess from the cover cloth, and hold back a step as he rises.

  “Thanks S.  You’re the best, and you give one mean shave, girl,”  He pats my ass and slips forty into my bra as he glides past, the scent of man lingering as he waltzes out my front door.

One response »

  1. MsBarefoot says:

    Awesome! That too is a fantasy that I would one day like to play out.
    It started 15 years ago and I recently found someone brave enough to let me shave his face with a disposable razor. Not the height of passion, but it was a start. Thanks for encouraging my fantasy.
    Also, thank you for taking such excellent care with your spelling and grammar. It is as smooth as the shave you gave. ( ;

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