I [F] Cut My Friend’s [M] Hair for His Date, But Then Cut in Line to Fuck Him

I masturbate to this memory pretty often.

I had moved away from my hometown for the first time, was single, and had a place of privacy all to myself. Needless to say, I was keeping my ~~legs~~ options open.

Sharing drinks at a bar, Scott and I were platonically chilling as we occasionally would on weekdays. He’s one of those quiet, dark handsome types who also made you realize you were a snort-laugher (and this only happens in public). He brings up that he’s got a date planned with a girl in another city. Which is fine. We were platonically chilling, after all. I’d be *super competitive* if it were any other kind of chilling. His sharp cheekbones and jawline powdered with stubble definitely drew me in, but to me, he’s a very interesting conversation and I really admired his insight first and foremost. Secondmost, yeah I would’ve eaten off his stomach. Thinking back on it, he was the one to put up ‘friend’ walls early on. Maybe it was because of this girl (who knows how long they’ve been talking). Scott’s also a few years older and a suit-and-tie professional, though, which he likely knew wasn’t my typical vibe, so we fell into being good friends.

He said he was seeing her this weekend and needed to get his shaggy-ass hair torn up before then. I used to cut my bf’s hair, so I said “fuck that” out loud and offered to trim him up at my place. Maybe it’s because I couldn’t even convincingly hold my cocktail stable, but Scott declined with a laugh.

“I’m not gonna do it while drinking. Obviously,” I smacked his leg (and stayed on it for a few moments). Eventually, I sweetened the pot by saying I’ll cut his hair in exchange for him bringing sushi. He caved.

Scott came over some nights later in a blue/gray collared shirt and jeans, holding another shirt and a bag of dragon rolls. After I “ayeeee’d” and snatched the bag, I skipped over to the dining room, where I had a chair and blanket set up to cut his hair with minimal mess. I told him he probably spent a bit more money on the sushi than he would’ve on a professional haircut lol but he gave me this shrug like “I meann…” But hopefully I made up for it by taking off my sweatshirt and giving him a bit more to look at in my bitty, ripped KISS t-shirt that my dad gave me in high school. This shit fits me somehow. Well it rides up above my belly button, but… I had to cut a V-neck into it to hide the rips my ex made in it when he banged me really rough in the back of his Chevy and tore the collar.

Long way to say that while I respected whatever he and this girl had, I gave the man a complimentary look down my cleavage while I started chopping away. He poked fun by doubting my abilities, but I told him to “shut up, I’m making you more fuckable.” Even sitting down, Scott was almost taller than me. And the more I asked him about this girl, the more I zoned out resting my arm on his broad shoulders… glancing at his triceps. I’m not into ‘huge’ muscles, but if a guy has triceps that feel like they’re made of stone, my jaw opens up for him like a Pez dispenser.

It’s hard to paraphrase through text, but he hit me with these jokes and anecdotes that had me cracking up to an unstable point where I had to put down anything sharp and take a breather. It’s like laughing hysterically weakens my legs and makes me horny/ier (Anyone else experience this?).

“Come on. I’m gonna cut an ear or something. And it may not even be yours,” I might’ve intentionally brushed up against his back with my tits–Which he totally called me out on by going “Yeah, my favorite part of going to the barber was always the lap dances.” I pinched his lips shut and assured him it was all part of the process. He continued saying he hasn’t known this girl for long. They met at some work function and was his coworker’s sister, but it didn’t sound serious. Daydreams started flashing before my eyes: his sharp jawline sinking below this mystery woman’s legs… him holding her against the wall like a doll in his arms and fucking her. Or, I guess, it turned into fucking me.

Once the sushi was gone, I made sure his sides were even by bending over and squaring up his face for a few seconds. I knew my boobs were hanging so I waited a bit to see if his eyes wandered. Success, bitch. I think I smirked when I noticed, but I hopped back and told him he can rinse off in the bathroom and I’ll clean up. He said he’d only rinse his head over the bathtub faucet, but I talked him into loosening up and just take a real shower.

I suspected he was masturbating because he took longer than I’d thought, but uh… I have reasons to believe otherwise. When he came out with his second t-shirt on, a small white undershirt, and his hair all moist, I was sitting on the couch curled up in my long sweatshirt. Scott probably assumed I had a pair of shorts on and a t-shirt underneath. Hah. I beckoned him over so I could verify my art. “Yep, it works.”

“‘It works,’ huh?”

“Yeah, you’ll be knee-deep in it by the end of the date.” I rustled his hair and watched his face turn red.

I even offered him cheesy pickup lines to us. I tossed one out that some guy actually used on me before (“Wanna watch a porno in my bedroom mirror?”).

Scott eventually took out a $20 bill and put it on the couch to thank me for the cut, but I swiped it up and acted offended. “Nuh uh!” I threw it back at him. He tried his luck with the kitchen counter.

“You spent time doing something for me. Don’t be annoying, just take it” vs “That was the whole point of the sushi!”

We devolved into goofy arguing and play-wrestled over handing each other the money when I let myself sink down into the arm of the couch, letting my sweatshirt ride up my body to reveal my panties.

I felt the air get sucked right out of Scott as he was already slouched over me, mid-wrestle, and let his waist fall into my lap. It all happened in one swift moment–His hard body laid itself into mine, I let out a small gasp, and he attacked my lips with his. My bare legs folded up so I could feel his stiffening cock rub against my pussy covered by my pink-and-black-dotted panties, now becoming drenched. He was still grabbing my wrist with the money in it, so the fact that he was essentially pinning me down got me extremely wet. Felt like my small body was his against my will. My hips grinded on him enough to make my legs shake. He hardened his grasp on my wrist and pinned it behind my head while he felt me up, learning in realtime that I wasn’t wearing a shirt. Or a bra.

I pushed him off me for a second, which he took as me stopping the whole process, but before he could apologize or whatever he planned, I turned around and bent over in front of him–face down and my ass very much up–letting my sweatshirt fall up my body. I felt the underside of my bare tits exposed to the air of my slightly chilled apartment and just wanted to shut down and be fucked stupid. Once Scott fished himself out of his pants, my ass was greeted by a hard cock for the first time in what felt like forever. He ripped my panties down and lubed himself with my soaking pussy, riding his head alongside its lips. I felt the underside of his dick as he kept my head pinned to the pillow (his aggressiveness surprised me but was very much welcomed) and said “you’re so fucking wet” as he wet the length of his dick.

I groaned and whined, “yeah” as I writhed for him, gasping whenever I thought he’d enter me until he finally forced his throbbing cock inside. It felt like the force of his dick popped my mouth open. He started slow to make sure I can take it all. I shrieked briefly into the couch pillow as he grabbed my hips with both of his big hands before ramming me into the couch like he had been waiting for this all night. He explored my stomach, my thighs, my nipples, and clit with his hands like he was on a time limit to feel as much of my body as he could before he wouldn’t be able to again. The comfiness of my sweatshirt around my shoulders and arms mixed with the brisk chilliness of my legs and tits felt weirdly… incredible? I felt like I was falling into a warm orgasmic coma. Scott slowed down because I think he was about to cum and wanted to last longer.

I breathily whined “done with me already?” and reached back to tease his balls with my hands, which were covered by some of my black sleeves. I wondered how the cotton felt against his balls that were just slapping against me, and now dripped with my juice.

I gave him the mercy he needed and got up to turn to the other side of the couch, kissing him in the middle of the couch. I took off both our shirts, grabbed his hand, and led him back on top of me while I laid right back down on my stomach to face the mirror I used to cut his hair. He rubbed and spanked my ass while I looked back at him biting my lower lip.

This is one of the 3 positions in which I cum the hardest from. He fucked me prone, squeezing his thick cock back into my small gap as I moaned more with each new inch, my pussy rubbing flat against the couch. We drunkenly glanced at each other in the mirror–my ass, breasts jiggling and my lips hanging open–all viewable for him as well as his broad chest, shoulders, and toned body were for me. He looked even bigger towering over me, his hands taking up the bulk of my hips. My legs tightened as he started fucking me so hard my ass rippled like I never saw before and my body curled upward like I was doing yoga. I had to get back on my knees so Scott could arc my head up toward him. He was holding my thighs against his legs so hard that it felt like he was holding me in the air while fucking me.

I looked up at his trembling lips and sweaty neck as he clasped one hand around my mouth and the other rubbed my clit while he fucked me deeper but a bit slower. My breath was shaky and I forced a finger inside my mouth to suck on it. I glared at him as to say “cum inside me” with my eyes. But I guess he didn’t speak eyes because he grunted, pulled out, and painted my ass and back with his cum while I pumped him empty. There was a good 2 minutes of us chuckling while I mindlessly played with his softening, wet cock.

I don’t think there’s any romantic feelings between us, just the animal lust of wanting to fuck each other sore now. We hooked up a few times since, one of them being his birthday where my present to him was a free facefuck. His choice of location. He chose the pier at night :)

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/q8f3ro/i_f_cut_my_friends_m_hair_for_his_date_but_then