kendo
Johnny trudged through the front door, his shoulders slumped under the weight of another exhausting day. He tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and kicked off his shoes, letting out a sigh as he leaned against the wall for a moment, just wanting to unwind. His thoughts were interrupted by the soft whisper of silk brushing against skin.
“Johnny,” Tina’s sultry voice cut through the air, “come to the bedroom.”
He frowned, confused but intrigued. What was she up to? She had been unusually quiet lately, and this sudden demand sent a jolt of curiosity through him. He followed the sound of her voice, his footsteps echoing softly on the hardwood floor.
The bedroom door stood slightly ajar, and as he pushed it open, his eyes widened in surprise. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a single candle flickering on the dresser. Tina stood in the center of the room, her slender body draped in a leopard-print silk robe that clung to her curves provocatively. Her hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, and her eyes sparkled with an unfamiliar intensity.
“Tina?” he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “What’s going on?”
She smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of her lips that sent a shiver down his spine. “I’ve taken matters into my own hands, Johnny,” she purred, stepping closer. “You’ve been putting off your haircuts for too long, and I’m done waiting.”
Johnny swallowed hard, trying to process her words. “But, Tina, I have an appointment—”
“No more excuses,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “From now on, I’ll be handling your hair. Now, sit.”
Her command was laced with an authority that left no room for argument. He hesitated for a moment before complying, lowering himself onto the chair positioned in front of the dresser mirror. She moved behind him, her reflection appearing beside his in the mirror as she reached around to fasten a black cape at his neck.
“This is happening, Johnny,” she murmured, her breath warm against his ear. “You might as well relax and enjoy it.”
He felt the cool fabric of the cape settle against his skin, the weight of it grounding him even as his heart raced. Tina picked up a pair of electric clippers, the hum of the motor filling the room. She ran her fingers through his hair, the sensation sending a wave of goosebumps across his scalp.
“Close your eyes,” she instructed, her voice softening. “Trust me.”
He obeyed, feeling the first tug of the clippers as they glided over his thinning hair. The sound was oddly soothing, a rhythmic buzz that mingled with the faint crackling of the candle. Tina worked with practiced precision, each pass of the clippers bringing a fresh wave of shorn hair tumbling to the cape.
As the minutes ticked by, Johnny found himself relaxing into the chair, the tension bleeding from his muscles. But Tina’s touch was becoming increasingly sensual, her fingers lingering longer than necessary, brushing against his neck and ears with a tenderness that made his pulse quicken.
“Almost done,” she whispered, setting the clippers aside and picking up a fine-toothed comb. She began to work the remaining stubble into submission, her movements leisurely, almost teasing. “You know,” she mused aloud, “a lot of men would kill for such a smooth head.”
Johnny couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound strained. “Is that so?”
“Mmhmm,” she replied, her fingers tracing imaginary patterns on his scalp. “It’s quite sexy, actually.”
He opened his eyes, catching her gaze in the mirror. There was something in her expression that made his breath hitch. Her hand drifted lower, brushing against the nape of his neck, and he felt a surge of desire pool in his abdomen.
“Now for the finishing touch,” she said, turning to retrieve a straight razor from the dresser. Johnny watched in fascination as she tested the edge, the blade catching the light with a sharp gleam. She returned to his side, the tension in the room palpable.
“Ready?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded, unable to form words. She stepped behind him once more, the razor cool against his scalp as she began the meticulous task of shaving away the last vestiges of hair. Each stroke was deliberate, her touch both careful and confident. Johnny’s mind was reeling, the combination of trust and arousal creating a potent cocktail.
When she finally finished, she set the razor aside and bent down, her lips brushing against his ear. “All done,” she murmured, her breath hot against his skin. “How do you feel?”
He turned to face her, his eyes locking onto hers. “Incredible,” he admitted, his voice hoarse.
Her smile was slow and dangerous, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “Good,” she whispered, reaching for the sash of her robe. She untied it with deliberate slowness, the robe falling open to reveal her nakedness beneath. Johnny’s breath caught in his throat, his body responding instantly.
“Stand up,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for refusal.
He rose from the chair, his hands trembling slightly as he met her gaze. Tina wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. “Do you know how much power you give me when you submit like this?” she breathed, her lips inches from his.
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice thick with longing.
She chuckled softly, her fingers trailing down his chest to the waistband of his shorts. “Then let’s put that power to good use,” she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
Without another word, she dropped to her knees, pulling his shorts and underwear down in one swift motion. Johnny gasped as she took him in her mouth, her tongue flicking against him with expert precision. The sensation was overwhelming, his body arching involuntarily as she continued her assault.
“Tina,” he groaned, his hands fisting in her hair. “Please.”
She released him, looking up with a wicked grin. “Begging already?”
He nodded, his breathing ragged. “Anything,” he managed to say.
She stood, her eyes darkening with desire. “Anything?” she repeated, taking his hand and leading him to the bed.
He followed without hesitation, his body thrumming with anticipation. Tina pushed him down onto the mattress, straddling him as she lowered herself onto his throbbing erection. The sensation was electric, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that had him gasping her name.
“Fuck, Tina,” he groaned, his hips lifting to meet hers.
She rode him with unbridled passion, her nails digging into his shoulders as she set a punishing rhythm. Johnny could feel the heat building between them, their bodies moving as one in a symphony of desire.
“Harder,” she demanded, her voice dripping with lust.
He complied, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust upward, driving them both closer to the precipice. Their breaths mingled in the intimate space, the sounds of their lovemaking filling the room.
“Come for me, Johnny,” she panted, her eyes locked onto his. “Let go.”
And with those words, he did, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. Tina followed suit, her body shuddering as she reached her peak, her nails biting deeper into his skin.
They collapsed together, spent and sated, their bodies still entwined. Tina rested her head on his chest, her breathing slowly returning to normal.
“Every time,” she murmured, her voice soft and content. “A headshave comes as our special kind of foreplay.”
Johnny smiled, his fingers playing with her hair. “Works for me,” he agreed, his voice husky.
And as they lay there, basking in the afterglow, the thought crossed his mind: How far would they take this new ritual?
