Girls & Arabs – LondonHair
The same young lady, who appears in this story, appears as the first person told this very brief story to me. Settling back into the chair only minutes after having her hair highlighted one Thursday evening my last client begins…
“I first had it all cropped off about ten years ago when I lived in Brighton. I don’t think it was anything special – I think it was really short then, if I remember I just told the hairdresser to take it all off. All I remember was that he cut my hair all off, asked if I wanted to go out for a drink that night and fucked me silly. I think I saw him once or twice after that and that was it. I couldn’t get too involved cause I was a dancer at one of the biggest holes down there.
“My friend Candice, well her name was Sue, she reckoned that they were going to give me the elbow ’cause my hair was too short. As it happens the guv’nor there – ended up fucking me – but he disappeared one night – I think he fucked off with the firm’s money. Anyway, I left that shithole and moved up to London. I got a job at a bar – it was quite a posh place – Arabs and rich cunts, you know the sort.
“One night, an Arab fella starts talking to me – wants to take me back to his place – some fucking embassy somewhere, off Knightsbridge. They pay well – don’t they – but I weren’t too sure about this one. Anyway I go back to his place and he shows me around – all very nice – it wouldn’t be the first time – but I tread carefully. He tells me what a great looking bird I am “you are very nice woman – I like very much” yeah, yeah – get it over and done with and gis a Rolex – you shit.
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“So we get naked – he takes me upstairs into a massive walk-in bath and we start doing it – every way – I nearly drowned. Ages later we stop – and he gets into it again – I think, fuck me, this is going to cost you more than a fucking Rolex mate. Now, sods fucking law – a couple of days earlier – on me day off – I get my hair cut at Bertrands’ – really nice cut – you know, cut really nice – into a step at the back?
“Next thing – this cheeky fucker – this Arab asks if he can shave my head – not only that, he wants to shave my eyebrows and my fucking pussy. I tell him to get fucked and I tell him I’m going home. He don’t offer me a Rolex he offers me cash – about two fucking grand – I said you’re off your rocker mate. Anyway, he’s towelled me down and we’re in one of his bedrooms. He’s put this cash on one corner of the bed and I’m laying there legs wide open – next thing he’s got this battery operated shaver or clippers, whatever they are – and starts doing my down below.
“I’ve got to say it’s a right turn on – and he’s ever so gentle unlike his bath manners. I think to meself, hang on let me do yours – and it’s the first time I notice that Mr clippers have been here before. Anyway I shave his privates and he still manages to come all over my hand and the clippers. He takes the machine away from me – we’re now both kneeling on this bed and he gets behind me, pushes my head forward and starts ploughing the clippers up the back of my head – all night this wanker has had me from behind and keeps kissing me where my hair’s been cut really short – and now he’s shaving it all off. He then lifts my hair from one side and goes to work on that.
“I look up as he starts shaving my hair and in front of me I see a large mirror on the wall. Bollocks – I think. I lean over quick as you like – I grab the dosh and start pegging it down stairs. Fucking Arab don’t know what fucking hit him – ‘come back you bitch’ he shouts out. ‘Get fucked you black cunt,’ I shout back. I put me kacks on and I run out. I only look around and it’s fucking seven o’clock in the morning. I get home and take a look at the state of my fucking hair.
“‘It’s bad, fact is – it’s quite awful’ – some skinny hairdressing bird says to me. I’ve gone to a hairdressers’ I know quite well, ’cause I’d passed it enough times – but never had the urge to go in there – do you know what I mean? – I thought I’ll go in there – as I’ll never go back in there again. She fucking pokes around with my hair and says, so what happened to your hair then? I tell her I let me flat mate have a go with the clippers. She sucks her teeth and says, ‘Oh – that’ll teach ya.’ I’ll shove that fucking comb up your arse in a minute that’ll teach you – you skinny cow.
“‘Well – anything “we” do will have to be shorter…’
“WE? – ‘Who the fuck’s we?’ I think to meself.
“Now – I’ve got one side of hair that looks normal – the other side, looks alright – but when you lift it – well it’s not shaved bald but it’s pretty close – the fucking back looks like a fucking truck has skidded up me neck.
“‘I got work tonight’ – I mutter to skinny bitch.
“‘I can shave the sides and the back with a number one – unless you want to leave the long side as it is – even then I don’t think these clipper marks are going to go with a number one – they look much shorter.’
“‘Yeah leave the one side.’
“So – she washes me hair and then starts cutting it – she’s only using identical clippers to that Arab fucker – anyway, up she goes – up the side of me head.
“Now I began telling you about when I first had all cut off about ten years ago – the pretty boy who cut my hair didn’t use these clippers – he used scissors and after spending fucking ages poncing around nipping this and that I walked out with a bouffant – compared to the fucking haircut I’m getting from this skinny bitch.”
To be continued
Migkil (c) 2000