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American Culture, Lesbian Style, Part 1

When I went to Aerial Beauty Supply on Friday night it was to pickup perm papers and cotton for the next week's permanent wave clients. One of three salon employees is always there and they know me, but I did not always know those who were shopping there. When I first saw Darla I recognized her but immediately knew her hairstyle was different than it had been two years ago at the fall hairshow. Then her bang was straight-cut across her eyebrows and the sides were about chin length and lightly curled under her jaw line, with her nape hair cut up shorter in back. It was a great look for her, and her haircolor was blue-black from the CreScendo Luminous Fashion Statement by L'Oreal color product. She was one of the lifestyle bi-chicks who had agreed to wear nylon stockings to the show to reveal her interest in being a participant in the fetish private party play that we secretly promote. At that time my hair was long and down my back, cut in a sassy shag with a long bang, and diacolor Caribbean Mahogany and Golden Copper Blonde by L'Oreal. Two salon operators who liked erotic play had introduced me to the fetish idea, which was to wear nylons instead of pantyhose as the clue that we were bisexual and wanted erotic involvement that weekend with someone else at the event. I had decided to join in, and I sent emails to others I thought would want to participate. We had more than forty out of about six hundred event participants who wore nylons, and part of our involvement was to find someone with nylons we didn't know and introduce ourselves, and ask her to join us for a private party. Darla and I were paired with another stylist for the private play in her hotel room, and we each invited someone younger than ourselves. It was then that I noticed her eyes, which are green with gold sparkles, which gives her the hazel aura. She seemed quite expressive and I liked her, but my young model from early in the day was my companion, and I styled her hair and fondled her melons and had her remove her cami and bra while the others watched. We took turns.

Seeing her at Aerial, I smiled at her, noticing from a distance that her hiarstyle was much shorter, cut in the 'rip & tear' style made popular by the British stylist Vidal Sassoon. Her nape hair was very short and tailored, exposing her neck completely, and her temple and crown hair were asymmetrically cut and spiked with gel. Her eyes sparkled even from a distance, and I could see that she had a metal ring piercing in one eyebrow, and stud in one nostril. She came to greet me and turned around so that I would notice the tattoo at the nape of her neck, a rosecrucia, freshly inked. She told me that it was a lifestyle symbol. She followed me around and talked expressively, and I sensed she wanted something and just decided to let her tell or ask me when she was ready.

Outside at our cars after my purchase, she secretively informed me that she had become a committed lesbian after ending her relationship with a guy, and now had a female partner, and was involved in a 'dominant-submissive' relationship. Willing to know more, I accepted her offer to go to a Caribou Coffee shop, and we sat at an outdoor table where she discreetly let me know that her partner was away for the weekend. Her eyes, smile and voice tone told me she wanted something and I could sense it might be me. She was attracted to me, that I kne, as I always do, but I didn't know more than that. As the sun began to set, she asked me if I would like to follow her home. She offered to shampoo and style my hair. Knowing she was a great stylist because I had seen her work with a model when she performed as a platform presenter, I accepted, and she gave directions before going to her car, and I followed in mine. Her invitation seemed serendipitous.

At Darla's home I felt very privileged. She had a salon-style shampoo basin and a height-adjustable chair in a home boutique setting, and I knew she took clients there. I was dressed very casually with a sleeveless, open-neck collared summer camisole and capri pants, with evening sandals. She was dressed in a blue tank top with baggy shorts and sandals, and she offered to pour a fruit drink before she wrapped her shampoo cape around my neck and sat me into her styling chair. Leaning into me as she wetted my hair, I could feel her leg press against mine and knew she liked doing it, and I welcomed her show of interest by not pulling away. Rinsing my hair and wringing it, she pulled the chair forward. Taking the wide-tooth comb she untangled my over-the shoulder length hair, pulling and combing it completely forward over my face, and let it dangle while she parted and sectioned and began to snip the ends to take off some length, talking to me as she did, saying how silken my hair seemed,letting the cut hair fall to the floor around me. She was reshaping my style, I could tell, and again I welcomed her expert confidence. Cutting some end hair and letting it fall, she combed one temple back and pinned it with an alligator clip, and started another part, and it was then that she put down her scissors and comb, and took off my shampoo cape and unbuttoned my blouse. She slid it off, and then opened the front clasp of my bra, and slid it off also. "This will be easier, Doreen, wouldn't you agree?" she teased.

As she continued to style around the sides of my head, her fingers and hands would go to my breast melons to eroticize our private moment, and then she leaned close and took one figgie in her mouth to warmly suck, and then the other and then kissed my mouth. "Stay the night, Doreen, Ok? My partner is gone until Sunday. Stay tomorrow, too." she emphasized, as if telling me, not asking me. I couldn't answer immediately. I didn't. I waited. She eyed my naked torso and finger-combed my hair, and I knew she was more than attracted to me. It was then I knew I wanted to be with her. "I need to go home tonight, but I will come back tomorrow...and join you overnight," was my answer. "Will you go to the Irish Fair with me?" I asked in return. 'Well, yes, that could be fun," she said, accepting my counter offer. She finished my style with a blow-dry, creating a soft, full layered look, very feminine, and then put down her brush and hand dryer, palmed my melons, and kissed my mouth warmly and lustfully.



Zazel De Forio
All Rights Reserved
September, 2007

End of Story