by jj Daper

I almost don't make it. I've been running all day, and when I finally arrive at the salon my bike is laden with books and groceries.

"Bring the bike in," yells Celene as I fumble with my lock in the rain.

"Won't it be in the way?" I ask, parking the bike next to chairs in the waiting room. The salon looks empty, but who knows how many other customers Manuel might see on his last day open before moving back east to take a position at a high-class salon.

"Who cares who comes by!" cries Manuel. "It is my last day and you are my favorite customer, so if anyone comes in, let them eat shit; I do not care!"

I've never heard Manuel swear, and he must see the surprise in my face.

"Pardon my French." He looks contrite. "But if it were not for you, my dear, I would not even be open. You do not appreciate how special you are to us. So we stay open to bid you a proper adieu with the Goddess treatment. We will send you to heaven then set you back upon the earth looking radiant."

In the three years I've been coming to Manuel, he always made me feel like a goddess. That's probably why I pay so much more for my hair cuts than my student's budget should allow. On occasion, I had gotten a manicure from Celene, and while I had not ordered one today, I can see her setting up her table. They seem determined to give me the works before Manuel leaves. The look in his soft brown eyes tells me his willingness to see me during this hectic time comes from a genuine accord between us, and is not just the result of those little things I've done for him over the years: the fudge I'd brought them at Christmas or the flowers I picked for their counter in spring.

I gaze at the two of them, Manuel with his solid frame, gentle eyes and soothing voice and Celene with her delicate features and strong hands. Suddenly I don't know them nearly so well as I would like. Why is it always that way with me? Always the other stuff came first, the studies, work, family, friends. Yet here I feel like I am about to lose two friends I've never really gotten to know.

"If you don't mind, why don't you put this on?" Celene says, handing me a robe. "Your pants are soaked, and we have a small dryer in back you can use to dry them. Besides, you wouldn't be very comfortable in wet pants when I give you your pedicure."

"You're going to do my feet too?" I ask, incredulous.

"The goddess treatment, remember," she winks and blows a dark curl up out of her eyes.

Taking the robe into the back room, I find a dryer with towels and sheets folded neatly on top. Empty boxes are piled in the corner waiting to be filled with clippers and combs and styling gel. I close the door, then toss my jeans, shirt and bra into the dryer before wrapping the robe about me and returning to the chair Celene indicates by one of the sinks.

Sinking into the chair, I let my head fall back into Manuel's hands. The sound of falling water fills my ears. While Celene normally washes my hair, today she is soaking my hands while Manuel massages my scalp. His large hands seem to cover every inch of my head, deftly attending to each slight curve my skull offers up. My eyes close on the scene of some Greek island captured on a tourist poster hanging on the ceiling above me. As the warm spray of water cascades through my scalp, and Manuel's fingers work a lather in my hair, my mind envisions us on the beach of that Greek isle. While he rinses my hair, I imagine his hands moving down to massage my shoulders. Then Celene voice breaks my spell and brings me back from near sleep.

"You're looking pretty comfy," she says, "I'm going to hold your hands in place so they don't fall out of the solution while I start on your feet, okay?"

I nod my head, can hear Velcro separate then feel straps resting comfortably on my wrists. I can completely relax my arms now and not worry about dropping my hands or tipping over the solution.

Manuel's gentle voice announces, "I am applying a special solution to your hair; we will have to wait while it sets up." His hands begin massaging my face, and soon I am back on the beach. Celene's hands are rubbing my feet and calves. Then Manuel places a warm cloth over my eyes and begins to rub my shoulders. I do indeed feel like a goddess and wonder idly what the other patrons would be thinking if any had wandered in. I wonder if anyone is watching us.

As Manuel's fingers knead my shoulders, thumbs digging into pressure points on my upper chest, his forearms brush lightly over my breasts. The robe is thin, and I wonder if he can see my nipples harden. Then Manuel's hand passes casually over my robed breast, and suddenly I am completely awake as a sensation of surprise floats to the surface of my stomach. Every inch of my skin seems to glow in nervous anticipation for the next touch. I pay full attention now to where Manuel and Celene touch me since I cannot move the towel from my eyes to see them. Celene's massaging hands are working my thigh muscles, and I can hear Manuel's breathing close to my ear. Hesitating for a moment, I wonder if I should say anything. Yet their touch is so exquisite and exciting, I find I don't even want to move. Let them think I am asleep. If I don't say anything then he won't be needlessly embarrassed. Then he won't watch himself more carefully. Then he might actually brush over my breasts again. Without a second thought, my anticipation turns to excitement; now I want him to do it again!

The fingers of Manuel's other hand are gently caressing my cheeks and lips. A twitch of my cheek is all the hint I give him of a smile, and then his finger runs a circle round my lips. Without thinking I press my lips together, gently kissing his finger. Then his other hand slips beneath my robe, and down around the outside of my breast. My breath catches, but still I say nothing. I know he knows I am awake. I want to reach for him, but my hands are still strapped down to the chair. Celene's hands are caressing my inner thigh and she seems to be standing over me, straddling my right leg. Even as I try to stay calm, my body is growing tense, warm, and wet with each new touch.

What should I say? What if someone walks in on us? Just relax, I tell myself, enjoy the game; pretend you are asleep. Manuel's hand is caressing my breasts now, and the fingers of his free hand are exploring the inside of my lips. I open my mouth a touch wider and they descend to my tongue. As I wrap my tongue around his fingers, I feel Celene's nails rake across my inner thigh and around the outside of my hips.

The salon is warm and I can't tell how much of the robe has been drawn away, how much of my body is exposed. Nor can I see anything with this towel still draped over my eyes. Something wet washes across my thigh. The weight behind it tells me it is Celene's tongue.

"Uh," I begin to say, only to find my lips caressed by the subtlest kiss I've ever known.

"Ah," I gasp when Manuel's lips move away, and the kiss returns with greater intensity.

"Oh," I sigh inwardly, and kiss back deeply and passionately.

Teeth gently nibble my inner thigh and fingers press themselves around my underwear and slowly into me. Large hands massage my waist and breasts. A cool breath down my side reveals that my robe is fully open and that I am now almost completely naked before them. I want to reach down to pull my underwear away, but my hands are still strapped beside me. I feel the touch of cold steel on my hip and hear the snip of scissors. I pull away, reflexively anxious. Again, the touch of steel and snip of scissors, this time on the other side, and my underwear are pulled out from under me. Celene has cut them away. Now fingers and tongue alternately touch my clitoris, while hands and lips kiss, lick and caress my breasts. I cannot tell whose hands and lips, whose fingers and tongue touch me where.

Being touched in so many places by so many hands is exhilarating. I wonder if anyone is looking in through the windows and realize I really don't care. How I want to run my hands through Manuel's hair or over his shoulders. How I long to run my arms around Celene's petite waist, to feel her slight breasts against my breasts! But I cannot move. It is agony not to see them, not to be able to reach out and touch them. I spread my legs wider. When the lips trail away from my breast, I arch my back to push my breast back toward those lips. I think I hear Manuel's gentle laughter.

Then Manuel seems to move away, and Celene's small hands move across my breasts. Her tongue licks a trail around my lips, then plunges into my mouth. Her rich scent fills my nostrils. Her small lips pull at my lips. The nails of her hand drag around the sides of my nipples. Manuel's large hands now rest on my thighs. I reach out with my legs, the only part of me I can really move, and try to pull him into me. My ankles brush the skin of his ass, and I stiffen and go wet with the realization he is about to enter me. Then he is working his way inside.

"Ahhh," I gasp, "O god!" I cannot keep quiet.

But then I am quieted by one of Celene's exquisite breasts filling my mouth. Her flesh is soft, though her nipple grows hard under my tongue. I nibble and suck her breasts feverishly. I can't refrain any longer. I wiggle one hand out of its strap and bring it up to Celene's other breast, pressing the two together, running my tongue down the length of her cleavage. I hear Velcro pulling free and feel Manuel's hand guide my other hand up to his waist as he leans over me. Then we are pulling and pushing, grabbing and sucking. While impossible, it feels as if he is plunging deeper and deeper into me. I pull his body closer to mine. Celene's nails strafe my sides--pain and pleasure mixing into a compelling, gripping sensation. I continue to rock Manuel into me with my legs as his short breaths and grunts tell me he is about to come. With one last thrust, he stops suddenly and holds my thighs tightly as he moans and trembles with ecstasy. Then he collapses on top of me, his lips kissing my neck.

After resting there a moment, I feel Celene push him off, then her tongue is reaching down between my legs. Still unable to see her, I try to pull her leg up over me, and she obliges, straddles over me. I guide her butt with my hands until she is close enough I can lick her. I dive into her, running my tongue around her clit, mirroring whatever she does to me. When I climax, my own licking becomes wild. She stiffens and closes her thighs slightly about my head, then lays still on top of me for what seems an eternity. I think to myself that no Greek isle could ever beat this.

As Celene climbs off, I am given a sponge bath with a warm damp cloth. Manuel whispers in my ear, "you are a goddess," and I believe him.

Having closed my eyes and drifted off for some time, I awake to hear their murmurs in the back room and their footsteps approaching. The robe is draped over me and I sit upright removing the towel from my face to see the salon empty and rather ordinary looking. Celene and Manuel enter the room fully dressed and beaming at me with mischievous smiles. It occurs to me that having been completely naked with them, I will likely never see their nude bodies.

"So, are you ready to cut your hair?" Manuel asks. I am confused; I didn't just dream this, did I?

Celene's smile deepens, "Or would you rather just go to dinner?" she asks.

"Dinner," I say, and nod.

"Good idea," says Manuel and laughs, "I've made reservations at a wonderful little Italian restaurant. We can cut your hair at my place in the morning."