Last night's hair cut left me a little... conflicted.

I've been needing a haircut for two weeks, now, but work has just been crazy. I got to the barber shop I normally go to right before closing time, hoping to get a shot, but there were too many people already waiting. Seeing my distress, my usual barber, Angelo (who, by the way, is SO gay he'd spontaneously combust just crossing the Russian borders), told me he could fit me in after hours if I didn't mind waiting a little. I said okay and sat down for a bit. One after the other, the clients got their haircut and left the shop. At the end, it was just Angelo, Rick (the other barber, a real macho man) and me. Angelo assured Rick he'd clean up and close the shop. Rick closed the curtains, put up the "Closed" sign, and waved us off as he left.

So then, it was just Angelo and me. And Minx, who's often with me and I just don't even notice. Angelo knows how I like my hair, so I just let him do his thing while my mind wandered off. He's good at his work, but I found myself wishing it was a girl cutting my hair. I've always found there was something... intimate about cutting hair. I'm normally more guarded than this, but this time, I'd just forgotten Minx was nearby and explored the fantasy. Then, a voice interrupted me.

"So how's work lately?"

That wasn't Angelo's voice. In fact, Angelo was gone. In his place, this hot black-haired Italian beauty was staring at me, scissors and a comb in her hands. She was wearing this tight black skirt that showed off her long legs and a tight blue blouse whose few remaining buttons struggled to contain her ample breasts. Yeah, that wasn't Angelo.

"Who? Um... what?" I knew instantly something had gone wrong. It had to be Minx... The girl looked at me and laughed.

"Wow, Jaycee, you sure look stressed tonight. I guess work's been a bitch, lately, am I right?"

And without waiting for my answer, the resumed cutting my hair. I just sat there, dumbfounded, as she continued blabbing. She gave my shoulders a quick rub.

"Yeah, you're working too much. And you have bad posture, I can tell just from touching your shoulders."

The girl—we'll call her Angela for lack of a better identity—put down the scissors and slid on the chair to straddle my legs. I looked at her, then glanced at the windows for fear that people would see us. Fortunately, Rick had closed the curtains, so we had some privacy. Wait! Had he done that on purpose? Angela ignored my hesitation and wrapped her arms around my neck, leaning forward to plant a kiss on my lips. She leaned back and winked at me.

"Maybe you need more than a haircut to relax, am I right?"

I looked at her. Her cleavage was so close to my face I just couldn't ignore it. If she just drew too big a breath, it would explode from its confines. And as I looked further down, I could see her skirt had ridden up her thighs and revealed some flimsy underwear hardly deserving of the term. It was more like "under-not-wear" if you ask me. This was certainly one hot babe, and from the looks of it, one that was rearing and ready to go. Without waiting for my permission, she leaned forward and kissed me again. She led my hands to her boobs, and that's when I knew I was lost.

I'm sure you know how the rest goes. Clothing flew everywhere and we performed sacrilegious sexual acts on my chair, on her partner's counter, and on the receptionist's desk. When we were done (and that was not as quick as you might think), I thanked her for the "great haircut" and left her a generous tip. She seemed very happy and kissed me goodbye.

On the way back, Minx and I got to talking and she congratulated me on my great performance.

"What do you mean? The sex?"

"No no no," she said, shaking her head. "The sex change. I didn't think you had it in you."

I was confused.

"You mean... YOU didn't do that?!? You're saying it was something I did?"

"Yup." She flew up to my cheek and kissed me on the cheek. "You're growing into quite the arcane pervert! I'm so proud of you!"

Ah... okay...?

--Jaycee
"I'm doing it."