HairSnip.com

I’ve always had a thing for getting my hair cut and watching others get theirs cut.  Don’t know why, but I like it a lot.
 
I work across the street from a unisex chain salon, and drive by it every day and look in to see if I can see anyone getting their hair cut.  Every once in a while I’ll see something good, but not too often.  But there is a stylist who works there, and she’s beautiful.  Her hair is a little longer than shoulder length, and sandy brown with layers. She has a cute smile and a fantastic body.  I had gone in a few times when I saw she was working, hoping I would get her, but it never worked out.
 
I had put off getting a haircut for a few months, and finally decided I needed one.  I pulled into the parking lot and looked in the window but I didn’t see her.   “Damn.” I thought to myself.  Oh well.  I didn’t care one way or the other whether or not she was there, I needed a haircut very badly, and I could see there was one person in the chair and no one else waiting.  So I went in. 
 
The door bell announced my entry, and the stylist who was cutting hair greeted me.  Then I saw her, the brunette.   She was over in the corner setting up some of the hair products on the shelf.  I couldn’t see her from the outside.  What luck!
 
She walked over to the counter.  “Hi,” she said.  “My name’s Meg.”
 
“Hello.” I said.
 
“Hair cut for you?” She asked.
 
“Yep.”
 
She took my information into the computer and told me to “Come on back.”  She led me back to her station, and spun her chair around.  “Have a seat.”  She told me.  I sat down and she spun me back around to face the mirror.  She wrapped a cape around me and pulled a neck strip from the box and put that around my neck too.
 
“So,” she asked, “How short are we going?”
 
This caught me off guard, I hadn’t thought about it. I had been so enamored that I had finally gotten her that I had no idea what I wanted to do.  This was my chance to have her cut my hair really short.  But I chickened out and asked for my usual style.
 
 “Umm, could you do an inch and a half on top, and, like, 3/8 of an inch on the sides and back?”
 
She smiled and said, “Okay, so a number 3 on the sides and the back,” and using her comb to measure the length on top, “then about 2 inches off the top.”
 
“Sounds good,” I told her. 
 
 “It’s been a while since you last had it cut, huh?” 
 
“Yeah,” I answered, “and plus summer time is coming fast.”
 
We had been having very strange weather recently, so she added “If summer ever does get here.”  Then she walked toward the counter and grabbed the number 3 guard, pulled the clipper from its hook and placed the guard on it.  She stood on my right side and combed my hair down toward my sideburn.  I thought it was weird she would start on the side of my head.  Usually stylists start in the back.
 
She pulled the clippers up through my hair releasing

about an inch and a half of growth which slid down onto the cape.  That really got me going.  I could feel my dick harden almost instantly. 
 
She worked the clippers quickly but very carefully over my right ear; more and more hair fell onto the cape.  Then she moved on to the back.  She started at the nape and pushed the clippers all the way up the back of my head.  God I love that feeling.
 
I did my best to keep myself under control.  Meg drove the clippers up the back of my head again.  I put my hand against my jeans to push my boner down, it didn’t help.  I came as she pushed them up the back of my head a third time.  I felt my underpants were wet and hoped it wouldn’t show when I got up.  Meg finished the left side of my head and put the clippers back on their hook. 
 
She took her spray bottle from the counter and began to wet the longer top hair for cutting.  She used her hands to lift my hair so she could get it all.  When she was satisfied she put the bottle back and picked up her comb and scissors.  She combed a lock of my hair straight up from my head and using her comb she measured out an inch and a half, marked it with her fingers, and cut it off sending two whole inches falling down onto the cape with a soft, wet “thud” sound.  She continued to cut the hair on the top of my head down to an inch and a half, each time sending two inches of my wet, dark brown hair falling into the quickly growing pile of hair on the cape. 
 
After she finished the top of my head, she set the scissors back on the counter and grabbed her clippers and her larger comb.  She took off the guard she had used earlier and started them up.  She used a clipper over comb technique to blend the short hair into the longer hair on top.  Short hairs joined the much longer chunks already in my lap, and my cock hardened again. 
 
Using the clippers she worked around my head carefully blending as she went along.  Finally she finished.  She set the clippers back on their hook, and picked up the smaller finishing clippers..  She flicked them on; they had their high pitched buzzing sound.
 
“Tilt your head down.” She instructed me.  I did as I was told, and she held the top of my head.  She used the clippers to trim and shape my neck line.  The clippers removing all of my hair to very short stubble made me come again and add to my already soaking pants.  “Shit,” I thought to myself.  There was going to be no way to hide this now.
 
Meg finished the detail work and put the clippers down.  She grabbed the mirror off the counter and asked me how the back looked.  “Good.” I told her and she took the blow dryer and blew the pile of hair off my lap and onto the floor.  She pulled the cape and neck strip off me.  Then she spun the chair around so I could get up. 
 
Thankfully you couldn’t see how wet my pants were.  I walked with her over to the register.  I paid, thanked her, gave her a tip and left.  I still see her on my way to work, and will some day have my hair cut by Meg again.

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