CLIPER2 writes about a woman assuming the control of the blades. Erotic and refined story. I bet you'll love it...
She paused to watch the first few curls surrender to the blades and fall from him. There was something about the experience, this early summer ritual, that proved inescapably erotic year after year. All she had to do was say to him, "It's summer and time," and the flush began.
He'd been as reliably compliant as ever, despite the obvious reasons for hesitation.
So as the sun went down, she lit the candles, focused the soft lighting just so, and beckoned him to get into position, securing each ankle and each wrist with old ties, firmly. There would be no second thoughts. There was no chance of that, of course. But the anxiety heightened the pleasure. She was in control of her boy.
She worked the clippers slowly through the hair, slicing it away easily, enjoying the swaths of smooth white skin that emerged as she did. The vibrations of the clippers were both powerful and erotic, an echo of the vibrators they often used in play. She made sure to rest the clippers against his skin, watching his reaction . He feigned calm, but his hardness betrayed him. He was hot, as hot as the first summer she demanded this transformation.
She smiled slightly to herself, enjoying, knowing the end of the story here in the middle, and then she plunged the clippers gently back into his curls, stripping his naked body. Occasionally, she ran her long nails over the newly exposed skin, watching as he stifled a deep breath, his arousal growing. She was careful around the curves, but also cognizant of her power and the power of the vibrations against his skin. When she finished, she couldn't resist teasing him unmercifully, bending over to blow away a few shorn curls.
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POSTED BY HARRIET.
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