Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357
The upscale salon where I worked stayed busy. Our stylists are always in demand and booked out for months at a time. Securing an appointment with us was like winning the golden ticket. That’s why it seemed so odd when a “female” walked in, flipping her long blonde wig over her shoulder and leaned an elbow on the front desk. She popped a wad of bubble gum between her teeth and said, “I’d like to get like, just a trim.” I looked her over; the disguise was doing nothing for Ky-ky.
I guess he didn’t realize we’d gone to school together, and that I would recognize that body anywhere. Tall and lean, face sculpted like a Greek God. Adding a cheap wig and giant sunglasses wouldn’t fool me. My fingers flipped the schedule book open, and I shrugged. “We’re swamped.” Ky-ky’s face fell, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed his disappointment. “However, my noon appointment canceled at the last minute, and I can personally fit you in.” He bounced on his kitten heels and squeeled.
A Hair Cut For Ky-Ky
“Just a trim,” his voice strained as he tried to make it sound more feminine. I led him down the row of salon chairs, all filled with gorgeous ladies getting different cuts or colors. I watched Ky-ky through the surrounding mirrors as we made our way to the last chair in the long row. Every snip of a scissor or buzz of a clipper had him shivering with excitement.
“Have a seat, girlie.” He swallowed again at my words, as if he thought his little trick was working. I’d have to be dumb or blind to believe this was a real head of hair. Ky-ky sat, and I draped the rose colored smock over her fake tits. When I snapped it tight around her throat, she moaned softly. My foot stepped on the pump under the chair to make it rise. It also locked a band around Ky-ky’s Ankles so she wouldn’t be able to leave the chair without me releasing her. I ran my fingers through the length of the wig and smiled at Ky-ky through the mirror before us. “You said just a trim?” When he began to nod, I latched my fingers into the wig to snatch it off—revealing the luscious real locks underneath. Ky-ky’s face was stunned, and his real voice tumbled out.
“No, not my real hair.” I wrinkled my nose at his concern and picked up my clippers. He watched with wide eyes as I flicked off the guard and turned them on. The buzzing filled the space between us, and I ran the comb up his nape to lift the length off his neck so the clippers could follow. So smooth. So short. Ky-ky moaned and shivered.
“Be still, or you’ll mess me up.”
“Wh-what are you doing? Oh, fuck!” I chuckled at his panic and pursed my lips.
“Decided if you’d look better in a pixie or a Chelsea.”
Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357
https://phonesexcandy.com/kayla