She Closed the Hair Salon and the Three of Us Stayed Inside

From the very first time I pushed open the door of her salon, one of those neighborhood places with two chairs and a faded sign, I knew Carla had something that didn’t belong there. It wasn’t just the precision with which she moved the scissors, almost without looking. It was the way she held my gaze in the mirror while she cut, as if she were measuring something more than the length of my hair.

I had never been one to get haircuts often. But I started showing up every two weeks, then every ten days, making up excuses to sit for half an hour in that chair that smelled of eucalyptus. At first we talked about weightless things: the game, a series, the weird client who had come in before me. Little by little, the conversations drifted into slipperier territory.

One afternoon, while she ran the clippers over the nape of my neck, she let it slip almost in a whisper.

—Have you never wanted to try something you’ve never tried before?

The question hung there between the hum of the machine and the brush against my neck. I told her the truth.

—Many times. And you?

She smiled, but she didn’t look at me straight on.

—Sometimes I think I’d like to know what it feels like to be with another woman. Just once. To really know it.

I didn’t know what to say. I only felt a heat climbing up my chest. From that day on, every cut became a half-confession. I told her about nights that had gotten away from me; she trusted me with things she had never said out loud. And we always ended up laughing, as if we were playing at something dangerous disguised as innocent.

Until one afternoon I proposed something else.

—This time I don’t want you to cut me —I told her—. I want to wash your hair. Here, when you close. Just the three of us.

Carla stayed quiet for a few seconds. Then, with that half-smile of hers that never let you know whether it was mockery or desire, she answered.

—Okay. But only if you promise to behave.

I lied without hesitation.

—I promise.

***

Thursday came. The shutter was already halfway down when she came in. She was wearing a short black skirt, a tight spaghetti-strap top, and sandals that left her burgundy-painted toenails on display. She sat alone in the shampoo chair, without being asked, and watched me in the mirror while I turned on the tap and tested the water temperature.

—You look pretty —I said, just to break the silence.

—So do you, with that top so tight —she answered, and her voice came out with a mischievous edge.

I started wetting her hair slowly. The warm stream slid over her forehead, her temples, her neck. I put shampoo in my palms and began massaging her scalp with slow, circular movements, sinking my fingers in as if I wanted to erase any thought that wasn’t that touch. She closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.

—You do that so well… —she murmured.

I took a black blindfold out of my back pocket.

—Do you trust me? —I asked, leaning toward her ear.

Carla hesitated only an instant.

—Yes.

I tied the blindfold on carefully, snug but not tight. Her breathing changed, became more alert, as if all at once she were hearing the rest of the salon through a different skin.

—Don’t move —I whispered—. Just feel.

And then I gave the signal I’d arranged with Nadia.

The back door opened without a sound. Nadia came in barefoot, wearing a light summer dress that barely covered her thighs. Her eyes shone with anticipation. She approached without speaking, knelt in front of the chair, and, with an almost ceremonial slowness, took Carla’s right foot in both hands.

Carla jerked.

—What…? —she began to say.

—Shhh —I soothed her, without stopping the massage on her head—. Trust us.

Nadia started kissing the top of her foot, barely brushing it with her lips. She climbed up her ankle, tracing a wet line with her tongue up to her calf. Carla tensed, but she didn’t pull away. Her breathing suddenly sped up.

Nadia kept going upward. Slow, open kisses along the inside of her knee. Then higher, under the skirt. Carla let out a soft moan when she felt the tongue graze the inside of her thigh, already very close to the edge of her underwear.

I kept washing her hair, but now my hands were also moving down her neck, her shoulders, brushing the swell of her breasts over the fabric. Carla arched her back slightly.

Nadia gently shifted the skirt aside and pressed her mouth over the lace panties. First just hot breath; then the flat tongue pressing against the fabric, searching for the shape of the clit. Carla gasped hard.

—Fuck… —she whispered.

Nadia hooked her fingers in the elastic and slowly pulled the garment down, letting it fall around one ankle. She knelt again and this time licked directly, her broad tongue moving from bottom to top, parting the lips softly. Carla opened her legs a little more, almost by instinct.

I crouched beside her and carefully removed the blindfold. She opened her eyes, glassy, and saw Nadia between her thighs, face buried, licking with long, deep strokes, sucking her clit every few seconds.

Carla looked at me, caught between shock and an excitement she couldn’t hide.

—Is this what you wanted? —I asked in her ear.

She could only nod, biting her lip.

Nadia slid two fingers into her slowly, curling them upward while she kept using her mouth. The wet sound filled the salon. Carla began moving her hips in short circles, seeking more pressure. I lifted her top, freed one breast, and took her nipple in my mouth, sucking hard in time with Nadia.

Now she was panting without control.

—I’m going to come… don’t stop… please…

Nadia sped up her tongue, her fingers moving in and out faster, her thumb drawing circles over the clit. Carla went rigid all over, grabbed my hair with one hand and the edge of the chair with the other. A long, broken moan tore from her throat as her body shook. We watched her come, her legs trembling, her abdomen contracting again and again.

Nadia didn’t pull away until the spasms faded. She moved up slowly, kissing her belly, her breasts, her neck. When she reached Carla’s mouth, they kissed deeply, sharing the taste.

I watched them, still breathing hard.

At last Carla looked for me, her eyes clouded with pleasure.

—You’re a son of a bitch —she said between broken laughs.

—Did you like it? —I asked.

She looked at Nadia, then at me, and smiled in that way of hers that always promises more.

—A lot. But now… now it’s your turn.

***

Without adding a word, she got down from the chair, knelt between us, and started unbuttoning my pants while Nadia pulled her dress over her head. The shutter was still down. The afternoon was only just beginning.

Carla settled between us with a confidence she hadn’t shown before. The dim light from the floor lamp drew soft shadows over her still-pink skin. She looked at me first, finished pulling down my zipper, and my cock sprang free, hard for a long time already. She wrapped her right hand around it while with her left she reached for Nadia.

Nadia was already out of the dress, wearing white cotton panties that stood out against her brown skin. She took a step and let Carla pull them down slowly, grazing her thighs with her nails. When the garment fell, she spread her legs a little and Carla didn’t hesitate: she slid two fingers straight inside her, slow at first, in and out.

I felt Carla’s mouth closing over the tip. Hot, wet, unhurried. She licked in little circles, her flat tongue tracing the head every time she came up, then going back down until half of me disappeared between her lips. She let out a vibrating moan that ran through me when Nadia pinched one of her nipples hard.

—Damn, you suck so good… —I murmured before I could stop myself.

Carla pulled back for a second, saliva shining on her chin, and looked up.

—I’m not done with you —she said, and took me back in, this time deeper, until I felt my throat tighten around it. She rose and fell at a steady rhythm, her free hand stroking my balls.

Nadia crouched beside her. She kissed Carla’s neck while Carla kept sucking me, then moved down to her chest and took the other nipple in her mouth, sucking hard at the same time her fingers kept working inside her. The wet, rhythmic sound of those fingers going in and out could be heard, faster and faster each time.

Carla started panting with my cock in her mouth. I had to grab the back of the chair to keep my balance. Nadia took advantage: she moved behind her, lifted her hips to leave her on all fours and, without warning, buried her face between her ass cheeks. Her tongue ran from bottom to top, stopping at the anus to make slow circles. Carla let me go with a muffled moan and pressed her forehead against my thigh, trembling.

—Don’t stop… —she pleaded, voice wrecked.

Nadia obeyed. She pushed her tongue deeper while with one hand she kept fingering her from the front, curled fingers searching for that spot that made her arch. With the other hand she touched herself, frantic.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I knelt in front of Carla, lifted her chin, and kissed her hard, pushing my tongue deep into her mouth while my hand went down to replace Nadia’s. I drove three fingers into her at once, pumping fast, my thumb pressing the clit in hard circles. Carla came almost instantly, a strangled cry against my mouth, her body convulsing, clamping my fingers with violent spasms.

Nadia straightened up, her face shining with moisture, and sat on the edge of the shampoo chair with her legs wide open.

—Now me —she said, almost like an order.

Carla crawled over to her, spread her thighs wider, and buried her mouth right in. She licked avidly, her flat tongue running the whole length, then sucking the clit with little pulls. Nadia threw her head back, grabbed her hair, and pushed her hips against Carla’s face.

I got behind Carla again. I caressed her ass, spread her cheeks, and prepared her slowly with my finger, going in and out, deeper each time. When she was ready, I lined up my cock and pushed in gradually. Carla moaned against Nadia’s sex, but she didn’t pull away; on the contrary, she pushed back to take all of me.

I started fucking her from behind with slow but deep thrusts, feeling her tighten each time Nadia sucked her clit harder. The sound was obscene: flesh against flesh, tongues, moans, broken breaths.

Nadia was the next to come. She took Carla’s head in both hands, went rigid all over, and let out a long cry while her body shook. Carla didn’t stop licking until Nadia gently pulled her away, still trembling.

Then Carla turned toward me, knelt again, and opened her mouth.

—Give it all to me —she asked.

I sped up against her mouth, holding the back of her neck. She looked me in the eyes, tears of exertion running down her cheeks, without backing away. When I felt I couldn’t hold out any longer, I pulled out and came hard over her tongue and chin, hot spurts that she gathered eagerly, swallowing what she could and letting the rest run down her neck.

Nadia came over, kissed Carla deeply, sharing the rest between the two of them, and then the three of us stayed there, panting, sweaty, tangled on the salon floor.

***

The shutter was still down. Outside it was starting to get dark. But neither of them was in a hurry.

Carla got up from the floor with her legs still weak, but with a new determination in her eyes. She stretched out a hand toward Nadia, who was still sitting on the edge of the chair, her chest rising and falling quickly.

—Come here —she said softly, almost like a gentle command.

Nadia stood and let herself be led to the huge mirror that covered an entire wall. Carla placed her with her back to the glass, facing her, and for a moment they just looked at each other in silence. Carla traced the outline of Nadia’s body with her fingertips: the wide curve of her hips, the waist that flared upward, the full breasts that shifted just slightly with every breath. She touched that brown, warm skin as if she wanted to memorize every inch.

—You’re so… different from me —she murmured, fascinated—. So soft.

Nadia smiled, a little shy now that she was the center of everything. Carla moved closer, pressed her body to hers and kissed her slowly, deep-tongued but unhurried. Her hands slid down her back, stroking her spine, pausing on the curve of her ass to squeeze it carefully.

They only separated so Carla could guide her to the floor, onto the rug beneath the cutting chairs. Nadia lay back and Carla settled on top of her, straddling her hips. She lowered her head and started kissing her neck, right where her pulse beat, down over her collarbone until she reached a breast. She took the nipple between her lips, sucking it gently at first, then harder, alternating with little bites that made Nadia arch her back and let out a long moan.

Carla kept going downward. She kissed her belly, the line dropping toward her navel, and when she reached her pussy she paused for a second to look. She parted the lips with two fingers and simply stared, fascinated.

—I want to taste you slowly —she whispered.

And she did. She brought her flat tongue down from top to bottom, one slow pass that made Nadia shiver all over. Then she focused on the clit: little circles with the tip, soft sucks, quick licks alternating with firm pressure. Nadia spread her legs wider, her hands tangled in Carla’s hair, pushing her closer.

Carla slid two fingers into her slowly, curling them upward, searching for that spot she knew would drive her crazy. She moved them at a steady rhythm while her mouth never stopped working. Nadia gasped louder, her hips rising and falling in short spasms.

—Carla… like that… don’t stop…

She sped up a little, the fingers harder, the tongue relentless. Nadia went rigid all at once, grabbed the edge of the rug and let out a strangled cry as she came, her body trembling under Carla’s mouth, which did not move away until the last spasm.

When Nadia caught her breath, she pulled Carla up and kissed her urgently, tasting herself on her lips. Then she gently turned her over to leave her on her back. She positioned herself between her legs and repeated the journey: kisses on the neck, on the breasts, on the belly. When she reached her sex, she opened it with her thumbs and plunged her tongue straight in, licking avidly.

Carla moaned loudly, her hands on Nadia’s breasts, squeezing them while she felt the tongue going in and out, the lips sucking her clit with precise little pulls. It didn’t take long. The pleasure built up through the whole afternoon brought her to the edge fast. She came with a broken cry, her legs closing around Nadia’s head, her body shaken by waves that didn’t end.

They stayed wrapped in each other on the floor, skin against skin, their breaths mixing, the smell of sex and eucalyptus filling the air.

I watched them from a corner, in silence, smiling.

The shutter was still down. And they, at last, had given each other everything they had imagined.