Juicy

  "Jeeeez! Are you serious?" His eyes were like huge saucers. "Hell, Juice, I need to become a hairdresser. You need an assistant?!" He joked.

  Juicy relaxed. "What I need is a small business loan, so that I can open my own shop. Will you take this money please? It's only a C-note."

  Troy reached out and took the money. He counted the bills and placed all but five singles onto the table. Before she could protest he walked past her.

  Juicy didn't want him to go. Strange...he scared her sometimes, but she didn't want him to leave. She trailed behind him and he looked at her over his shoulder with his hand poised over the door knob.

  "Are you going to be okay, Juice?"

  "Yeah." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm going to be alright." She responded boldly. "You go on ahead. I don't want to make you nervous."

  Troy opened the door then paused. He closed it.

  "There is one favor that you can do for me."

  Juicy tried to hide her pleasure. "Sure, anything, Troy."

  "Well, since you do hair, I could really use a haircut."

  "You want me to cut your hair? Sure. Did you want a perm or maybe highlights-?"

  He was shaking his head. "Just a hair cut."

  Juicy circled him slowly, studying his hair to see the style that his head was crying for. She reached out and fluffed certain areas with her fingers, other areas she swept back, then forward. It was still a bit damp from his shower and she recognized the tropical smell of her shampoo on him.

  "Come on." She indicated for him to follow her into her 'business' room. She had a rolling barber’s chair there. There was another television and some comfortable seating and piles of hair magazines. Beside the chair was a table that contained, what Troy would consider, devices of torture! The room had a smell that he found both foreign and comforting.

  "Sit down, make yourself comfortable. I have to go to the bathroom. Be right back."

  Troy picked up and examined strange metal combs and wands. He leafed through some of the magazines sometimes in disbelief at the more outlandish styles. Then he reclined in the barber's chair riding it first up then down.

  He straightened when he heard Juicy return. She had freshened up, brushed her teeth and fixed up her dreds. Troy noted that she was wearing khaki capris and a rhinestone studded shirt that hugged her large body in a sexy way. She was still wearing her doo rag, but it now seemed somehow decorative.

  Juicy turned on the radio and seemed to fall perfectly into a professional persona. She hummed softy and picked up a cape which she draped around his shoulders. With a delicate touch that surprised him, Juicy fastened the cape snuggly around his neck. Troy tried to ignore the sight of her rounded breast just at his eye level.

  He hadn't really wanted a haircut. He trimmed his own hair when he got the chance. It wasn't great looking but at least it kept it out of his eyes. But it was the tone of Juicy's voice that had given him pause. He'd been watching out for her for days and it was just hard to cut it off. She hadn't wanted him to go either. That was clear. Maybe she was lonely sometimes, too.

  She spritzed his hair from a water bottle as she walked around the chair instead of swiveling it. Every time her breast came into eyesight Troy clenched his hand slightly. She had nice breasts. The thin material showed a slight blue tint of her bra beneath. There was even a bit of nipple impression visible.

  "You've been cutting your own hair, haven't you?"

  "Huh? Oh. Yeah."

  Her hands ran through his hair, slightly grazing his scalp. Troy shuddered involuntarily. God, what was she doing to him...?

  She used a narrow tooth comb to gently smooth out his hair. It felt wonderful.

  Juicy continued humming then the first snip. Lost in her work she didn't realize that his breathing was shallow and labored and that his eyes were glued to the sight of her breasts.

  She hadn't had very much experience with white men's hairstyles. She was happy for the practice. She reached down to lightly tilt his chin upward and noticed two red spots on each of his cheeks. What in the hell was up with that?

  Stooping down before him, Juicy dragged down several longish locks of his hair by his temples, paying particular attention to keeping them even.

  She took considerable care trimming them with her little scissors. When she looked at Troy again, she caught where his eyes were looking; her breasts. Quickly he met her eyes with an embarrassed curve of his lips.

  She just rolled her eyes; typical man. A pair of boobs or a big ass and they lose their ability to think. She moved behind his chair and concentrated on layering the rest of his hair. This way, when it grew out it would still look nice.

  Troy sighed softly as Juicy smoothed the hair down by his temples. From her spot above him she could see that his eyes were closed and he was enjoying the haircut. This was the type of client that Juicy loved to have. She decided to give his head a good scratching with her nails. Men loved that shit just as much as dogs did.

  She watched him as she lightly scraped his scalp with her nails. He shuddered and his breath came out in a surprised rush. Troy lowered his hand into his lap but not before Juicy clearly saw what his hands had tried to conceal in his lap; a very prominent bulge.

  Whoaaaa....Juicy's hand paused in mid scratch and Troy quickly opened his eyes and glanced up at her, embarrassed.

  "Uhm...I'm sorry, Juice. It's been a long time since anyone's touched me." Juicy couldn't say one word. That confession was unexpected and out of the blue. That had to have been the saddest thing she'd ever heard. Well, no because who had touched her recently? There hadn't been any good touches for her, either, other than Troy's kind arms carrying her to the hospital and his soothing embrace.

  Saddened by both of their predicaments, she let her fingers trail down the sides of his face and over his newly trimmed sideburns. Still standing behind him, Juicy tilted his head further back.

  Holding his breath, Troy watched her expectantly; hopefully.

  Juicy lowered her own head until their foreheads met. Troy's hand came up and traced Juicy's forearm, then further up until they were locked behind her head.

  She felt goose pimples rise suddenly across her skin. He pulled her head down to his lips and he kissed her nose and her eyelids and when her lips were poised over his he swiveled in his chair until they were face to face.

  "I'm going to kiss you, Juicy." He whispered.

  She didn't breathe. But she didn't pull away either. Troy's lips touched hers.

  It was like being kissed for the very first time, or at least the way a first kiss is supposed to be. It was the sweetest kiss that she had ever experienced.

  Juicy could feel her heart pumping like mad in her chest. This was crazy. What was she doing?! When she was about to pull away, Troy cupped her face in his hands and his kisses became suddenly sensual. Parting his lips he explored her mouth capturing her voluptuous lips between his own.

  Troy tugged her bodily until she fell into his lap. Had she ever sat in any man's lap before? Dear Lord, what was she doing?!

  Troy's hands now gripped her waist but he never broke the kiss.

  What had started out as so sweet was now transformed into something that caused Juicy's limbs to tingle with desire. Electrical jolts seemed to shoot through her belly only to settle between her thighs where she felt a warm heat rapidly building.

  Juicy felt her hand run up Troy's chest and into his hair at the nape of his neck where it was still longish. She had given up on trying to get away from him. And now she recognized the way her body accepted his kiss and the way her nipples tightened when he gripped her as if she were disconnected from herself and watching these events from a distant place.

  Troy's tongue luxuriated in the taste of her lips...Juicy, she was. Her lips were succulent. Troy moved his hand up to cup her breast. This was heaven, kissing her and touching her breast. He could stay in this chair with this woman sitting on his lap, kissing her and stroking her breast forever.

  And forever it did
seem. Juicy was floating somewhere between heaven and earth. When her lips tingled and began to grow numb she finally pulled back. Troy's eyes were hooded and his lips were swollen but he looked as if he could go for another hour of kissing. His hand still held her breast.

  Somehow it felt so decadent that he touched her there when they weren't kissing. Seeming to read her thoughts he looked at her beautifully rounded breast. Troy reached up and boldly slid the bra strap down over her shoulders. His hands then glided beneath her shirt and up to the cups of her bra. Using his fingertips he drew them down until her breasts were released but her shirt was still on. Juicy wiggled her arms out of the straps of her bra so that she would not be tangled in the shirt. Troy helped her and when her arms were released instead of exploring her beneath the shirt, he explored with fingers over the thin material. The sight of her chocolate nipples visible through the fabric caused his mouth to open and before he knew it he was kissing one nipple through the shirt, drawing it into his mouth, saturating the thin cotton material. Instantly Troy felt his erection spike harder and it made him suckle harder, clutch her closer.

  Groaning Juicy rocked her hips against the stiff cock pressing against her bottom—just a few bits of cloth away from being inside of her. With enthusiasm he rocked upward, meeting her halfway. The idea of what they were almost doing brought her over! Just the thought and she was climaxing and crying out in surprise.

  Troy looked at her with wild, frantic eyes. He came to his feet briefly still holding her close and collapsed back onto the end of the barber’s chair with Juicy's legs now straddling his lap. Wildly he began to pump his hips against her as if he were actually entering her. Crying out in pleasure, Juicy rapidly rotated her own hips until she was grinding herself against his hardness, rolling her hips in rhythm with his movements. He was so hard and so big that each time she pressed her core against him she felt deliciously pulverized.

  Troy threw his head back and yelled out her name, letting it drag out impossibly long as his own pleasure erupted. Together they rubbed and climaxed until finally they hung onto each other panting, sweating, and satisfied.

  Juicy abruptly untangled herself from him and stood up on rubbery legs. Anxiously she looked around but her eyes finally settled on the sight of him sprawled out and panting on the barber’s chair, watching her with hooded, bedroom eyes.

  Troy stood up and placed his hands on her arms, rubbing them lightly.

  "There's a million things that either of us could say right now. Juicy, just don't say anything. Okay? Because I don't want this second ruined. This is the most perfect moment of my life and I want to remember it just like this."

  Juicy lightly bit her lip and watched him.

  Troy glanced down and started kicking off his shoes. "I'm going to take you up on your offer to wash these clothes." He pulled off his shirt at the same time that he hopped up and down on one leg and pulled off socks. With no sense of embarrassment, Troy unfastened his pants and pulled them off until he stood there completely naked.

  Juicy’s intent was to keep her eyes above his waist but just the one quick glimpse of his nudity made her look twice. His length; the thickness was beautiful.

  He held the pile of clothes in his hands. "I'll wash them myself if you tell me where the washing machine is."

  He was so cute with the beginnings of his stylish hair cut, now rumpled, and the glow of good sex on his face.

  "It's in the basement." She mumbled. Juicy scooped the clothes from his arms and hurried out of the room. "I'll take them down." She called over her shoulder. She slipped on flip flops and hurried around for her little container of detergent and change for the machine.

  She could feel Troy's eyes on her and it had a strange effect on the butterflies in her tummy...they felt suddenly like bats!

  "Juicy, fix your bra before you go out." He called just before she shut the door soundly behind her.

  Juicy blew out a long breath and hurried down to the basement.

  'Ohmygodohmygodohmygod...' she chanted. 'I just fucked a crazy homeless man. OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD...'

  Juicy dumped the bundle into the first washer and when her arms were free she covered her face with her hands. 'I AM in a vegetative state. I got hit in the head, I was in a coma and I'm no longer of sound mind and body.' Juicy began to pace. Absently she adjusted her bra. Her left breast felt full and sensitive from Troy's attention. Juicy closed her eyes and covered her breasts with the palms of her hands. But Lordie did he know how to work on some titties, not to mention making her cum like that. What man had ever wanted to kiss her for nearly an hour?

  Juicy rubbed the sweat away from her forehead. She reminded herself that Troy was his name; not a homeless guy, or Mr. Cracker. He was Troy. And Troy had done so much good and not one thing bad. And why exactly was she looking down her nose at him? Who was she to look down her nose? Who the hell was she?!

  Juicy hung her head down low then she picked up the fallen coins and dropped them into the slot of the washer. She poured detergent over the clothes and started the wash cycle on hot. Slowly she began walking back up the stairs smoothing her hands over her pants. Her panties felt soaked from...her throat went dry.

  When she entered the apartment she heard the shower going. In relief she went to the fridge and although she wanted a stiff drink, she settled for a bottled water. She sat down on her black fur couch reclining her head back.

  The bathroom door opened a few moments later and Troy stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist. Her eyes scanned his form. Instantly she forgot about her previous thoughts in her admiration of him. Troy's stomach was flat and well muscled. Where did homeless guys work out?

  He spotted her on the couch and came over to sit across from her on the red ottoman.

  "Are you okay?" He asked with a bit of trepidation.

  "Yes. I am." She offered him a tentative smile. She tried to think of something nice, something positive. “I...uhm...wanted to tell you that you made me feel really...good."

  He smiled and sighed. "I could tell. Likewise, in case you couldn't tell."

  "Troy, I'm really sorry about yelling at you that day. I was wrong, and I was rude. I'm so thankful that you didn't hold that against me and that you helped me anyway."

  Troy's eyes grew wide. "Oh, Juicy, I could never just sit back and listen to another person being hurt. That's just not my way."

  "Then there should be more people like you, Troy."

  He shook his head and looked away.

  "So, does my home really make you nervous?"

  After a few moments of thought Troy looked at her. "Yes, because it represents a trap."

  Juicy inhaled a deep breath and before jumping to any conclusions about the state of his mind she continued. "How is it a trap?"

  "Because...if I used my social security check to pay for an apartment, or house or whatever...then yeah, there's money enough for that. But who has just a house? You have utilities because you have to have lights, heat, electricity. Right?"

  "Right."

  "And then you have to have something to sleep on, something to sit on—and then that's a third of your check. Why spend a third of your check to have your own place, only to walk in there and it gives you no comfort. Right?"

  "Okay, I agree."

  "So you see where the trap comes in, Juicy? By the time the average American creates a home that makes them comfortable, they're in debt. My social security check doesn't give me enough to live up to the standards expected of me by society!"

  She could see Troy getting passionate about the discussion. She listened without judging. He started counting off on his fingers. "Television isn't good enough, then you need cable or satellite. Telephone is not enough because then you need three-way, call waiting, call forwarding!"

  "I hear you. But, Troy, it's your own choice how far you want to get into the...trappings of society."

  "How many people do you know, Juicy, that say ‘I can't make my credit card payment, my cable is cu
t off, a bill collector is calling about my late furniture payment?’ Can I make the decision of how far I will go, or will my desires dictate my needs?" He grimaced. “It’s like those stupid diet drink commercials where they say drink a shake at breakfast and another at lunch then have a sensible dinner. But if you could have a sensible dinner you wouldn’t be fat in the first place, right?!” She was following him but just barely.

  Juicy leaned forward. "You're telling me that you'd rather sleep in that boarded up building with the rat droppings and roach carcasses then in your own place? You'd rather be at the mercy of the elements, of criminals, of...disease?"