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From: rosa <rosa6262@yahoo.com>
Subject: {rosa} "A New Outlook on Life" (MF Cons)
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Warning:  This story contains sexually explicit material and is for 
the entertainment use of adults only.  Persons under 18 or who are 
offended by sexually explicit material should not read it. 

A New Outlook on Life.
-- by Rosa.  Copyright 1999		rosa6262@yahoo.com
-- edited by Kellis

	Here is a true story from me.

	At the time of this story I was seeing someone.  We 
weren't engaged but we were talking "what ifs," if you know 
what I mean.  He probably was about to pop the question.
It happened at work.  It was the first time I had sex there although I 
had gone out with a customer.

	I am a hair dresser, cosmetologist to be specific.  I 
had been working at this shop for about three months since 
graduating from the school of cosmetology.  It was a small 
shop of four girls besides myself, plus the owners wife and 
the owner.  He and his wife were an ass and a bitch.  I was eighteen 
at the time.  We girls worked on commission, paying the owner forty 
percent of our earnings.  He made our work schedules and always put me 
at closing time.

	This day was late September and my coworker Dana and I 
were about to close up.  I was in the back washing the towels when 
Dana came back and asked if I wanted to do one 
last haircut.

	I said, "Shit, it's only five minutes to closing!"

	Dana said, "I'd do the haircut but I have to get my kid from day care 
and get home to my husband."

	I was trying to get enough money to buy me a new jeep.  
I was driving an old pickup at this time and I hated it.  I 
wanted a jeep.  So I said I would do the hair cut.

	Dana left and locked the door for me.  I drew the blinds on the door 
and put up the closed sign, not because of what was about to happen 
but to keep other people from walking in wanting their hair done.  I 
was not planning anything with this guy and wasn't even that type of 
girl -- then.

	I am a red head and like wearing it in a braid.  It 
reaches about halfway down my back.  I am very small, four 
foot eleven inches tall and about eighty-nine pounds.  Sorry, flat 
chested.  A training bra would be just slightly 
too small.  I could've passed as a Junior High School girl.
I guess I should describe what I was wearing.  I had on my Rockies.  
In case you don't know, Rockies are the western 
style jeans that have a smooth ass without pockets.  These 
were black and fit tight on my small ass.  I had my lace up 
ropers (cowboy boots).  I was wearing a black denim vest.  
It was short to my waist and showed my belly about an inch 
when I raised my arms.  I wasn't wearing a blouse under it.  
Oh, underneath all this I was wearing a black lace string 
thong panties.  The only black bra I had since I was in 
total black was a strapless but I wore it anyway.  My red 
hair was braided back in a French braid.  I am a cowgirl and 
I looked like I just left the barrel races at the rodeo.

	The gentleman who just sat in my chair was really 
handsome, a banker or businessman type.  He was old enough 
to be my father.  I suspected he was around forty years old.  He wore 
a pressed dress shirt, tie with dark slacks, and had thrown his sport 
coat on a chair in the lobby.  He was a large man but not fat, maybe a 
little overweight, I would guess over six and a half feet tall.

	I started the haircut.  I am short so I have to use a 
stool to stand on, moving it around to cut the hair.  After 
a minute or two into the cut I was moving the stool and had 
bent over.  He reached out and caressed my butt.

	I jumped and cried out, "Hey!"

	He smiled and said he was sorry, so I continued to do 
the hair cut.

	After a little while he popped a question.  "Why don't 
you take off that bra?"

	He could see in the mirror and was staring into my vest through the 
opening of the arm when I lifted my arms to cut his hair.

	I smarted off, thinking he wouldn't take me seriously, 
"That will cost you extra."

	He said, "How about I double the price?"

	I said, "Noooo!"

	"Okay, triple."

	I thought for a minute about how forty percent of the 
haircut price of ten dollars was going to my boss.  That 
left me with six dollars.  I get to keep any tips.  I would 
now be getting twenty-six dollars for my part of the 
haircut, and all I had to do was take my bra off so this 
dirty old man could get a peek every once in a while.  I 
thought I could remain behind the chair and he wouldn't see 
anything.

	So I said, "Let's see the money."  I wasn't a fool.

	He adjusted and pulled his wallet out from under the 
cape that covered him to keep the hair off.  When he opened 
it, it was full of money.  He pulled out a twenty.

	I said, "It's thirty with the hair cut."

	So he pulled out a ten. I stuffed the money in my 
pocket, turned around and unhooked my front-clasp bra 
underneath my vest, then pulled it out.  I think he was 
surprised it was so easy and a strapless.  I went back to 
work, although now he kept moving trying to get a peek and 
making it hard to cut his hair.

	After a few more minutes he asked, "Did you ever think 
about cutting hair topless?"

	I just gave a loud laugh.  "Huh!"

	"How much for the top?"

	I said somewhat jokingly, "That would cost you at least fifty more 
dollars."

	He pulled his wallet out and handed me two more twenties and a ten.  
I just stood there.

	He said, "Well?"

	I was seeing dollar signs now and that jeep was getting closer.  I 
grabbed the money, unbuttoned my vest and
tossed it into the style chair next to mine.  Now he sat still since 
he could get a look.  I have to admit I was liking it too.  My nipples 
had been hard as rocks since I took off that bra.

	I was just about finished with the haircut and was
cutting his bangs.  He reached out and caressed my butt 
again.

	Backing off, I said, "You can't afford my jeans."

	He said, "How much?"

	Now I was going for the money.  I said a hundred, 
thinking that he would never cough up the dough.  After all 
even with a topless haircut he was already paying eighty 
dollars -- and he didn't have that much hair!

	He calmly pulled out his wallet and handed me a fresh, 
crisp hundred dollar bill.  I just stood there shaking with 
that bill in my hands.  I was scared but I had more money on 
me now than I had earned in the first two days of the week.
I put the money in my pocket and slowly undid my jeans.  
I had to remove my shoes and socks so I sat in the style 
chair where I had thrown my vest and bra.  The man just kept 
staring at me.  As I was pulling off my jeans, my panties 
almost came down too with the tightness.

	Now I was really shaking.  Standing there in my black 
lace thong panties, all that covered me was a small triangle 
of lace in front held by a string going high over my waist 
and connected to a string going down through the cheeks of 
my butt.

	I could barely finish his bangs.  I was sure he was 
staring at my ass in the mirror as I leaned over him cutting 
his bangs.  I walked around with him eyeing me up.  I undid 
the top of the cape and buzzed his neckline, shaking like I 
was standing in the cold.  I finished up, although I was 
worried I would cut him.  I then brushed the hair clipping 
off his neck and removed the cape.

	I about jumped a foot when I saw that he had pulled his dick out of 
his pants and was playing with it under the 
cape.  His slacks were undone and he was sporting about a 
six inch hard-on.  I screamed a slight bit.

	He just smiled, asking, "Okay, how much for a facial?"

	I was so nervous that I thought he was wanting me to do a cream 
facial for removal of wrinkles.

	"I don't give facials."

	"No," he said, "I want to give you one."

	I then realized what he was talking about.  I just stood there.

	"How about another hundred?"

	I just stood there, not saying a word.

	He reached in his wallet and pulled out another crisp 
hundred dollar bill and reached over, sticking it in the 
string in my thong.  I trembled and just froze there.  He 
took my hand and pulled me near him as he stood up.  His 
pants slipped to his knees and his dick bounced up straight 
at me.  I slowly squatted down and looked up at his face.  
He smiled and stepped up closer.  I looked at his dick and 
took it in between my lips.  He caressed the back of my head 
so gently it calmed me down a little.  He pushed himself 
further in my mouth and I sucked down on him.  It wasn't my 
first blow job, but I was trembling like a virgin.  I was 
also getting hot.  My pussy was aching for attention.  I 
relaxed a little and sat on my legs on the floor.  It didn't 
even bother me too much because of the cold.

	He now began to slowly pump my face.  I took him as deep as I could, 
tasting his pubic hair.  He suddenly quivered and pulled out.  I 
opened my mouth but I don't know why I bothered.  Only a tiny drop 
landed in my mouth.  The rest hit my forehead, got in my hair and 
eyes, splattered my 
cheek and down on my little tits.  He must have shot off at 
least three big spurts.  I reached up, stroked his pecker 
and put it back in my mouth, tasting what little was left.  
I was so excited I didn't want it to be over.  His pecker 
began to go limp in my mouth but I continued to suck on it.  
After about a minute he caressed the back of my head again 
and his dick started to return to life.  I kept sucking and 
bobbing my head on his prick.

	When it came erect again I lost control.  I got up off 
the floor, pulled my thong off and turned toward the shelf, 
leaning over with my elbows on it.  He didn't need any
explanation.  He grabbed my hips and stuck his dick to my 
pussy lips.  As it spread me and entered I exploded with an 
orgasm.  I shivered again, this time not from fear but lust.  
He continued to pound into me.

	I opened my eyes to see myself looking back in the 
mirror mounted at the station.  The white come he had shot 
over my face had melted to a clear, runny mess.  My bangs, 
eye lashes and brows were wet and stuck together as if I had 
used mousse on them.

	I looked at his face as he pumped me from behind.  I 
could see the whole shop in the mirror.  It just sank in 
that I was at work.  It also sank in that I was a real slut:  
come on my face, a stranger fucking me from behind at work, 
and cheating on my boyfriend.  I was a real slut and I liked 
it.  These thoughts going through my head sent me over the 
edge again.  As the orgasm spread through my body, I started 
yelping.  That's the best I can explain it, yelping.  It was 
loud like yelling but moaning at the same time.  It was a 
high pitched "Ooohh!"  Every thrust of his dick brought a 
sound from my mouth.  I closed my eyes again, not wanting to 
look at myself but to enjoy the fucking I was getting.
He must have had a hard time getting off twice so 
quickly because it seemed like he was pumping me forever.  
We were both sweating all over in the heat of screwing.  
What part of my hair wasn't soaked with his sperm was now 
soaked with sweat.  I could feel the sweat all over my body 
and the braid of my hair that was hanging on my shoulder.  
Finally I felt him shudder as he pumped himself into me 
hard.  I exploded.  I yelled out at the top of my lungs as 
my third orgasm shook my body while his dick pumped into my 
pussy.

	After his dick quit throbbing he pulled out of me and I fell back 
into the style chair where he'd had his hair cut.  I was exhausted.  
He pulled up his slacks, tucked in his shirt, straightened his tie in 
the mirror and put his sports coat back on.  He was well polished and 
I was in love with him.  Not a romantic love wanting a relationship 
but a love of his style and class.  He walked over and kissed the top 
of my head as he dropped another hundred dollar bill in my lap.  I 
picked it up, staring at it as he undid the deadbolt and let himself 
out.

	I thought, Am I a prostitute?  I shook it off as, no, just a damn 
good hair cutter who gets big tips.

	I sat there a long time thinking, the come leaking out of my pussy on 
to the chair.  I held the three hundred and eighty dollars.  Then I 
got dressed and put the ten for the haircut in the register.  I would 
get my commission on it at the end of the week.  I cleaned up the hair 
in the floor.  Before I cleaned the come off the chair I ran my 
fingers through it.  I was changed.  I was going to breakup with my 
boyfriend and live my life for myself.  The next evening I went to the 
car lot and gave my whole savings, the three hundred and seventy 
dollars and my ugly truck as down payment for the new love of my life, 
a brand new green Wrangler jeep.  That man gave me more than the best 
sex I have ever had, he also set me free to be my own boss and to live 
life to the fullest.

	That's my story.  I SWEAR IT'S TRUE.



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