ShampooLoverAgain
Until adulthood, I had never received a shampoo service in a salon. Honestly, I was embarrassed about having it done, even though in the back of my mind I had fantasized about undergoing such a sensual experience. Up until this time, I had mainly focused my efforts toward shampooing any woman available to me, whether it was a family member, girlfriend, or, later, my wife. As a mentioned in my previous account, there are numerous stories that fit into this broader category and I look forward to sharing them another time. Today, I wanted to shift the focus to my first initial reception of a shampooing in a salon. Obviously, because I first experienced this so late in life in comparison to others, my first time was immensely thrilling.
It was a cold winter day. I had finally gained the confidence and boldness drive over to my local Great Clips. It was the middle of the day on a weekday, and so I knew the salon would be less busy than normal. I was not dressed particularly nicely, but acceptable with my being dressed in golf shoes, khaki pants, and a collard shirt. I walked into the salon and gave them my name, Khalise (a tribal name common where I am from). An African American woman was the one whom I met at the counter. She was dressed in black tennis shoes, a black cosmetologist smock with the Great Clips logo on it, and a black shirt underneath. Her name was Jaqui. She had a beautiful smile, and her hair was straight and shoulder-length. I specifically recall her friendliness in our brief exchange. I remember the atmosphere of the salon itself: bright, almost hospital like, but not uncomfortable. In fact, there was a welcoming presence in the small shop, probably due to how kind Jaqui was in our first interaction. What was also striking about the salon was the visibility of everything within from the waiting area. Though there were dividers between each stylist’s chair, it was not at all difficult for prospective clients to peer into all activities taking place in the salon itself. Positioned quite visibly also were the two shampoo stations. The reclined chairs, the backs of which were positioned right underneath the shampoo bowls, had footrests that can be seen from the waiting area. In this way, there was a sort of tease to my entry into the salon waiting area. I could see where I would soon be seated and reclined, totally at the mercy and direction of my stylist, Jaqui. I had nervously requested both shampoo, conditioning, and a deep conditioning treatment, something I saw that they offered for an extra cost. Unfortunately, the deep conditioning treatment, complete with time under the dryer, is now not offered at any of the Great Clips locations I have visited in the last few years; what a shame. Anyways, in spite of my nervousness, she was all the more friendly and understanding. This fueled my boldness, so I even requested that these treatments and services be thorough and that I would be glad to tip extra for her to really take her time. I felt like such an idiot making this request, but she was even more understanding than I hoped she would be. I remember my heart really starting to pound at this point. She asked that I take a seat in the waiting area while she prepares the supplies for the shampoo, conditioning, and deep conditioning treatment. Once seated, I was able to observe as she stepped back into the salon and visited the shampoo station. She readied multiple towels, the shampoo and conditioner, as well as whatever special conditioner they used for the treatment. She even laid out a plastic cap that would later be used when I was placed under the dryer. Before I knew it, she looked over to me and directed me to take a seat in her chair, rather than at the shampoo bowl. I was so hoping that maybe she would cape me, and to my surprise, she did. I heard the sound of the silver cape, with the Great Clips logo on the front, as she flipped it into the air and pulled it over my body and gently around my neck. As soon as it was secured, she then wrapped a black towel over the back of my neck and shoulders and brought the ends of it to my chest, where she secured it with a clip. She then began to play around with my hair a little, trying to get a feel for its texture and density. She commented on how thick it was. Though my hair was not incredibly long, its thickness made it perfect for shampooing. The lather, I knew, would soon be monumental. I watched her make this comment from her reflection in the mirror, and we then exchanged a smile. After this, she directed me to follow her to the shampoo station she had already set up. By this point, the anticipation was killing me. In addition to this, I could feel the other stylists and other customers in the salon observing us, not obviously, but subtly. The feeling of being seen in this more vulnerable position was such a thrill, knowing I was about to be pampered like a lady. Knowing that this was so public, that even people walking outside of the salon could see me if they stopped to observe. I also knew that it was probably unusual for someone to get a deep conditioning treatment at a quick service salon like this, so the publicity of my experience was all the more manifest. As I took a seat in the shampoo station chair, I waited for Jaqui to guide be back, and that she did. She gently guided my head back into the bowl, before she had even begun to run the water. She then laid another black towel around my chest and there I felt cocooned in fabric. My arms were snugly atop the two armrests and I made sure to really lean my neck back far to where my head was deep into the bowl. My eyes, by this point, were naturally beginning to close. However, I did keep them opened for a moment longer than I would otherwise to really take into my mind the image above me. To my left was Jaqui, arranging items on the counter behind me. I could just make out in my peripheral vision the outline of her black hair and head as she glanced down and made eye contact with me, again with a beaming, almost delighted smile. I remember the fluorescent lights above, I remember the sounds of scissors and low chatter elsewhere in the salon. I remember the sound of the water hose being pulled from its seating at the top of the shampoo bowl. By this point, any possible small talk that may have been occurring between us ceased. It was clear to the both of us that we were fully embracing the pleasure of the moment. I closed my eyes, with full relaxation and pure sensuality flowing through me. The thought that someone I knew could walk into the salon and clearly see me in this state was absolutely intoxicating. The water began to flow, and loudly so. I could feel the warmth of the steam rising through the bowl as Jaqui brought it to temperature. Then the fun really began. She started at my hairline, bringing all my hair backwards into the bowl, every strand sopping wet and now slicked back onto my scalp. I could feel the tingling sensation move down to the base of my skull. At this point, I probably let out a audible sigh of relief. I made it. I actually mustered the courage and came to the salon, and now I was reaping the rewards of my labor. I remember a slight smirk appearing on my face and I am sure this pleased Jaqui. She began to run her fingers decisively around my scalp. After this thorough wetting, I hear the sound of a shampoo bottle open and a large dollop landing in my barberette’s hand. She then placed that small mound of shampoo right onto my scalp and I can still feel the coldness of it. Then came the massage. She did not hold anything back. Immediately a lathery chorus erupted from the shampoo bowl. The smell of the Paul Mitchell Tea Tree Shampoo filled the air. But then, breaking with proper protocol, she began to use her long nails on my scalp, and it was amazing. It was a sensory overload! This first shampoo felt like it went on for numerous minutes. It was only the beginning. After it, she rinsed my hair and it felt even better than the first rinsing. The feeling of the suds running down my head into the drain of the bowl was indescribable. At this point, I could tell my hair was already quite clean. But Jaqui was not going to do anything halfheartedly. So came the second shampoo, which is always the best. Again, the sounds of the shampoo bottle cap, the even larger dollop, the coldness as it was pressed into my hair. I remember as this second shampoo began, I pushed to lean my head even further back into the bowl; I did not want to contribute to any suds going where they ought not to go. Again, the sense of being watched by the whole salon was palpable. I am sure many shampoos took place at the station every day, but this one was different. Jaqui knew I did not come for a mediocre experience; I came to have a sensual experience. The lather that formed from this shampoo was incredible. I could feel the suds encroaching on my ears and the back of my neck. Jaqui worked the shampoo into my hair so well, even better than I would have done myself. She then guided my head up so that she could focus her attention on the back of my head. It was at this point that I briefly opened my eyes, just to take into my memory the sights of the salon. Then, I made a glorious discovery. On the opposite end of the room were additional stylist stations, complete with their own mirrors. In the station across of where I was seated, there I could see my reflection in its mirror. Laid back in this shampoo chair, fully draped in this large, silver cape and black towels. I could see the look on my own face and also the delighted smile on Jaqui’s. I could see her looking down at my head, intensely focused on providing the most amazing shampoo service. I could see the thick lather formed all around and atop my head. I was in awe of the scene, seeing myself like this. I could also observe the other stylists who were busy at their own stations. It was wonderful. Then, I was led to again lay all the way back and continue my relaxation. The two shampoos must have lasted around twenty minutes. I am sure everyone there noticed how long she was taking on such a routine service. After another rinsing, she conditioned my hair, again massaging with her nails and using the perfect amount of pressure. After the conditioning, I could hear her opening the single-use deep conditioning treatment packaging. When she placed it on my scalp, it somehow felt even colder than the shampoo. It was also very thick and almost lathered, probably because of how squeaky clean my hair was by this point. This treatment she did not massage into my scalp; I think it was designed to be in the hair for the most part. After being sure all my hair was included into one creamy heap, she then put the plastic bonnet over my head. She instructed me to remain where I was, to continue resting my head back. I could hear her walk to the back of the salon and turn on the hooded hair dryer. She returned to me and guided my head as I sat up. When I opened my eyes, it dawned on me how long I had kept them closed. The room seemed brighter. I was also met with even more awareness of how public my hair appointment was by this point. I could see other guests seated in the waiting area, and I could see other barberettes sneakily observing me as I was placed under the dryer. While there, I even gained the courage to cross my legs. I felt amazing, like a beautiful woman enjoying the luxuries of a salon day. My time under the dryer was probably around ten minutes. When Jaqui came to bring me back to the shampoo station, I was even more relaxed than before, perhaps even in a stupor of sorts. As I laid back into the shampoo bowl once more, I could feel any residual stress dissolve into nothingness. The rinsing that followed was its own lovely ordeal; it went on for what felt like another five minutes. After this, we returned to Jaqui’s station and she dried and styled my hair. The tip she received that day was in excess of thirty dollars. I felt I needed to show her how much I appreciated her care. I recall how excited she was to see that someone had tipped her such an amount. I was happy to do it. Thus, that day began a multi-year long dynamic between the two of us. I began to go regularly to see her, often just requesting a shampoo. She would always deliver, and I would always gladly tip handsomely. I hope she’s doing well now; she deserves it.
