~BHM, Romance--- A hair stylist gets an interesting new client.
[Author's Note: The first one I've got the guts to post. I'm super-long-winded, so bear with me...
Part 1
Khloe sat in the back room of the salon, sipping her water and trying to erase the previous five hours from her memory. She’d dripped color on a client’s expensive new jeans, spilled the twenty volume developer all over the dispensary, and had just finished a three-hour spiral perm on an extremely picky woman whose only comment on her hair was “I guess it’s alright.”
She loved being a stylist, but days like this made her wish she could just crawl into a hole.
But she only had two hours until her shift was over, and she intended to take it easy. There were four other stylists at her salon, Synergy, but Khloe had been doing more clients a day than three of the other girls combined, picking up their slack for the six months she’d worked there. After the day she’d had, she felt like she deserved a break.
“Guess what that lady just tipped me,” Sami said, breezing into the break room, her blonde extensions fluttering out behind her. She flopped down into the chair across from Khloe.
“Hmm. You did, what, all-over color, a full head of highlights, and then a razor cut? Three bucks.”
“Two.” Sami groaned and sunk down further in her seat, her slim form lost in the big arm chair. She was the only stylist besides Khloe who really pulled her weight in the salon, and they got along pretty well. “I swear, people tip their waiters more, and the waiters don’t have to put up with them for three hours straight like we do.”
“You have a point.”
“I know.” She sighed. “So are you coming out tonight?”
“I don’t know, Sami, after the crappy day I’ve had, I think I just want to curl up with my cat and a book.”
“Oh, come on, Khlo! That guy…what’s his name…Esteban! Ooh, he was so into you last night. He said he’d be there again tonight, and he’d bring friends. Friends, Khlo. That means that I get to get in on the hot Latin action, too!”
Khloe snorted. “He was in desperate need of a shower and an ego check, Sam. He was so greasy he didn’t walk, he slid.”
“Oh, he did not.”
“Yes, he did. He was totally skeezy. And skeezy is not my type.” She squeezed another lemon slice into her water with decisive force.
“’Not your type.’ You’re just being difficult. I don’t understand you, you have all these incredibly hot men absolutely salivating over you, and you want nothing to do with them. You’re so damn picky,” Sami complained.
Khloe shifted uncomfortably in her seat, tugging on a deep chestnut curl. “I may have high standards, but it saves me from dealing with the whackos.”
“I don’t even know what your standards are…”
“Number one: isn’t the type of guy who goes to bars or clubs to pick up women. Therefore, any guy we meet when we go out is pretty much not a keeper,” Khloe countered.
“Oh, come on, they’re not all disgusting.”
“You’re right, some of them are just plain nuts.”
“Okay, so what are you looking for, then? What’s your type, Miss Picky?”
Dannie, one of the other stylists, saved her from having to answer. She was standing in the doorway of the break room, boredly chomping on a piece of gum. “There’s a haircut up there,” she stated.
“And you can’t take it, why?” Khloe asked somewhat irritably.
Dannie made a face. “Because I’m leaving soon...”
“And by soon you mean three hours,” Sami muttered.
“…And because I think it’s a guy, but he’s got, like, boobs. I’m not going near that with a hazmat suit, and neither will Orla or Jill.”
“What?” Sami said, audibly. “You mean he…she…is a transsexual? You know you can’t refuse to do someone because of something like that, Dannie, we’ll get sued.”
Dannie rolled her eyes. “I mean he’s super-fat.”
Khloe flushed and peered around Dannie to the waiting area at the front of the salon. There sat a young man in his early twenties, like her, looking around anxiously. Even at a distance, she could see that he was very attractive, with an innocent face and shaggy light brown hair. And he was very fat.
“I’ll do him,” Khloe said suddenly.
“Good,” Dannie said. She turned and sauntered back up to her station, where she plopped down and began filing her nails.
“I thought you were exhausted?” Sami asked her, looking weirded out.
Khloe felt her cheeks grow hot as she tied her apron on. “Yeah, well, I need the money.”
“Well good luck,” Sami told her. “I hope he fits in your chair.”
Khloe shot her a look as she left the break room, anxiously cracking her knuckles as she walked to her station and quickly got out her shears, clippers, and combs. Her heart was beating fast, so she slowed down a bit to give herself time to calm down. Just looking at this guy sent shivers down her legs.
When she felt marginally more composed, she went over to the reception desk to check his name. Orla, who was sitting there, said, “Oh, so you’re doing the lard ass?”
“Shut up, Orla,” she hissed.
The redhead rolled her eyes. “Here.” She handed her the clipboard where he’d signed his name. Garron Riese. Here for a wash and cut. And if no one else was here, he’d be getting a lot more than that…she thought.
She turned to the waiting area. He was seated on the edge of the couch with his elbows on his knees, obviously trying to camouflage his size. But he couldn’t hide the fact that he took up more than half of the couch, which could easily fit four people. Khloe felt her thighs tingle, and prayed that she’d be able to keep it together.
“Hi, Garron,” she said brightly.
He looked up, and she saw that his eyes were a deep blue grey, encircled and enhanced by brown-framed glasses. He gave a nervous smile as he stood, taking her outstretched hand and shaking it firmly.
“I’m Khloe; it’s nice to meet you,” she gave him her friendly smile, hoping to put him at ease. She saw his smile relax just a fraction, and quickly took note of his clothing. Baggy khaki cargo pants, Converse sneakers, and a slightly roomy long-sleeved t-shirt. He dressed to conceal, too. A pity, she thought. But she could still see the silhouette of his rounded frame pushing out of his clothes. The wide slope of his belly, the thickness of his thighs…she even caught a slight jiggle of his midsection as they shook hands. She suppressed a shiver.
“Hi, Khloe, nice to meet you, too,” he replied.
Oh, wow, his voice is even sexy…
“Come on back with me, and we’ll talk about what we’re going to do.” She led him back to her station, all the while feeling the heat of his presence at her back like a roaring bonfire. This is crazy…I know he’s hot, but my reactions are just insane. She stopped in front of her chair. “Okay, have a seat right here.”
She saw him hesitate before he began to lower his mass into her hydraulic chair. It was a tight squeeze, and she saw his face redden in her mirror as he sat. She regretted not talking to him about what he wanted up in the waiting area so he wouldn’t have to stuff himself into her chair yet again after his shampoo, but simultaneously loved watching him do it, even though she knew he was embarrassed.
“Okay, Garron, what are we going to do today?” she asked him, trying to make eye contact in the mirror.
“I need a haircut,” he told her, his eyes lowered. So he was shy. “Not too much off…I like to keep it kind of long, but it’s getting in my eyes a lot.”
“Okay, that’s not a problem.” He was very tall, so she lowered the chair as far as she could in order to reach the top of his head. She combed out a section of hair and measured out about an inch with her fingers. His hair was soft, thick, and silky, poker straight, and had gorgeous natural highlights. People paid her to give them hair like his. “You’ve got really nice hair, Garron. It’s really healthy. About this much?”
“Yeah, that looks good. And thanks.”
She smiled at him again, and she saw him give her a little smile back. She asked him a few more questions to make sure she had all the specific things he wanted down, and then told him she was going to drape him. She put a towel around his neck and wrapped the cape around it, just barely closing it on the very end of the Velcro because his neck was so thick. “Is that okay?” she asked him. “Not too tight?”
He nodded.
“Okay, let’s go over to the shampoo bowl and get you washed.” She led him over to the sinks and told him to sit, all the while taking shameless pleasure in watching the way his fat shifted beneath the cape as he sat and leaned back, wriggling around until his head was in the correct position. “Let me know if the water temperature is alright.” She turned on the hose and gently wet his hair.
“That’s perfect,” he said.
“Good. Now you just close your eyes and relax, Garron.” She shampooed and rinsed, and then rubbed conditioner on his scalp, giving him her special massage that she usually reserved for family and friends. As her fingers circled through his hair, she watched the slow rise and fall of his belly with the rhythm of his breath. It had been that very sight ten years ago which had turned on the light bulb in the dark corner of her mind that harbored her secret desire for fat guys.
She’d been away at summer camp, and her friend had become so homesick that her mom came to pick her up early, so Khloe had been left alone in her cabin. She had never been the type who could stand being still for long, so, with no one to talk to or go around with, she began exploring on the boys’ side of camp during free time. She wasn’t exactly looking to “do” anything with anyone – she’d already been kissed by two pretty good-looking guys since she’d turned thirteen that spring and hadn’t particularly enjoyed it – but she’d seen a guy around the camp a few times who intrigued her. He’d had spiky blonde hair, blue eyes, and a thick, heavy body with a round pooch of a belly. It wasn’t really clear to her why he interested her so much: he was funny and smart, and seemed nice, but…he wasn’t what she or her friends would call hot. So she sought him out, hoping to watch him for a bit, maybe talk to him, and figure out what the deal was.
She found him sitting under a tree with a book a little ways off from the boys’ cabins. Khloe was not a shy girl, so she sat down next to him and struck up a conversation. His name was Nick, he was also thirteen, and he was from the other side of the state. They spent a few hours together before the bedtime whistle blew, and this time only served to confuse Khloe more.
She knew that those feelings racing around inside her were of strong like for him, but it just wasn’t making sense. He had a cute face, and he was a really nice guy, but he was fat. And she couldn’t like a fat guy. They hung out together every day until camp ended two weeks later, and those strange emotions only grew in intensity.
On the last night, the counselors had organized a dance for the kids. She held Nick’s hand the entire time, and they danced to all the slow songs together. Afterwards, the counselors had a party of their own in the mess hall while the campers lounged back on logs around the campfire and told ghost stories. But Khloe was more interested in watching Nick’s belly rise and fall. She pictured kissing him, putting her hands on his belly under the starlight. She was shocked that she wanted to kiss him, but knew that it was a definite desire.
So she grabbed his hand and led him down to the little stream that ran behind the infirmery, and kissed him. He kissed her right back, and it was far nicer than either of the kisses she’d received thus far in life. She gently placed her hands on his belly, and it was like fireworks exploded in her stomach as her fingers sunk into his softness. She still remembered all the little details from that moment: the damp smell of the forest, the exact color of the starlight, how smooth Nick’s lips had been, and, of course, the way his fat had felt. She remembered thinking, Huh…I guess I like fat guys. That’s strange.
As she grew older, she only wished she could go back to the innocence and simplicity of that realization. Now that she knew what her desires were, she was bombarded with the societal pressures that fat was a horrible thing, and it was only normal to be thin and like thin people. She’d suffered through high school tolerating the muscular jocks who went after her, all the while secretly pining away for a fat outcast who would have never mustered up the courage to ask her out. Khloe knew that she could have asked him out any time she wanted, but she’d been too afraid of the social rejection that would follow.
A girl in her circle of friends had once shown interest in a guy from the Goth crowd, and the backlash had been incredible. She’d arrived at her locker the next day to find “freak lover” scrawled across it in permanent marker, and people made comments about her wanting to suck blood and all sorts of ridiculous things, all because she’d said that so-and-so was kind of cute. The name-calling had gone on their whole sophomore year, and Khloe could imagine the kinds of things they’d have called her if her “fat thing,” as she referred to it, was revealed. She became ashamed of her preference and tried to quash it, but it just wouldn’t budge.
She decided that when she went to college she would just be herself, and anyone who had a problem with her preference wasn’t worth having in her life. Since then, she’d never made a secret of her fondness for chub, but she never came out and admitted it to anyone, either. She’d dated a few cute big guys in college, but nothing too serious. Most of them couldn’t believe that she was genuinely attracted to them because of their appearance rather than in spite of it, and that ended things rather quickly.
She knew that her roommates talked about the fact that all the guys she brought home were big, but none of them ever had the courage to say anything to her face, so she ignored them. She was having enough trouble trying to remind herself that she wasn’t a freak, when so many of those guys had told her she was for craving their fat bodies.
Now that she was out of both college and cosmetology school and living on her own, she didn’t have to worry about explaining herself to anyone. The supply of attractive fat men in her area, however, was next to nothing.
But you, Garron, have made my day. Hell, you’ve probably made my year, you’re that gorgeous. She looked down at his face, admiring the curve of his cheeks and the soft double chin that padded his jaw. His skin was tanned, which wasn’t surprising, considering they were in a beach town, but he looked like he could have been a surfer, which was surprising, given his size. She again gazed at his belly, wishing that she could have washed his hair without a cape on so her view wouldn’t have been obscured. Come to think of it, if she could have, she’d have asked him to take his shirt off, too. She had a brief fantasy involving her client and a too-tight wetsuit that he needed help getting out of…
Khloe reluctantly rinsed him out and toweled his hair, and returned the chair to an upright position. Garron opened his eyes, his face looking a bit dreamy. “Wow,” he said, “that was incredible. Your hands must hurt like crazy at the end of the day, doing that on every client you wash.”
She couldn’t hold back a slightly wicked grin. “Who says I do it for everyone?”
He blushed, making his round cheeks look like apples.
“You can go ahead back over to my chair, I just have to wipe down the sink, and I’ll be right over.” She watched his tubby behind as he made his way back to her station, and held her breath as he squeezed into her chair again. Watching him from this angle afforded her a spectacular view of his love handles spilling over the arms of her chair. He had to be at least 350 pounds.
He’s really squished in there tight, isn’t he? she thought with a silent giggle as she squirted cleaner on the sink and hose. She saw that the redness in his face had deepened, and felt a little ashamed of herself for being so turned on by something that so obviously humiliated him.
If he had any idea how incredibly sexy I think he is… I hope he can get the hint.
She finished cleaning off the sink and returned to his side. “Okay, Garron, now we can get started.”
She picked up a comb and began to pull it through his hair. “So do you live around here?”
“Yeah, I live over on Ocean Avenue, actually.”
“Wow, you’re really close to the beach, that must be nice. You’re not too far away from me, either,” she replied, inwardly thanking her unbelievable luck. “I live on Forget-Me-Not.”
“That’s not too far from the beach, either. There are some really nice places on that street.”
“Yeah, I’m really lucky to live there, I love it. So what do you do for a living?” she asked as she picked up her shears and began to cut. She could have finished his cut in about ten minutes, but she took it slow. She wanted plenty of time to chat.
He got a bit of a strange look on his face. “I’m a video game designer.”
Khloe’s eyes widened. “Seriously? What games do you work on?”
“Uh, I’ve done Ancient Enemy I and II, City of Smoke, and right now I’m working on a sequel to it.”
“That is so cool! I’ve only played Ancient Enemy II a few times, but I love City of Smoke; it’s my favorite game.”
He looked incredulous. “You play video games?”
Khloe gave him a grin. “I know, I know, I’m a girl!”
She feigned a look of shock.
“I – no, I just…”
“I’m only teasing. I know it’s sort of unusual. None of my friends play. So tell me about your job, what all do you do?”
They chatted for a while about his work, and Khloe’s questions gradually drew him out of his shell a bit. He even asked her a few questions: how long she’d been a stylist, what else she liked to do. He was very polite and funny, and so sweet – he even sunk down in the chair a bit without being asked when she was having trouble reaching the top of his head. She caught him checking her out once, and she mentally cheered – that had to mean he wasn’t gay. She hadn’t thought he was, but one could never be too sure.
Now, she thought, is he seeing anyone…
“So do you have any kids?” That was usually a much safer question than, “Do you have a girlfriend?” Most younger people would automatically offer their relationship status when asked about their children or lack thereof.
He laughed a bit uneasily. “No, no kids. Definitely not. I’m only twenty-four, and I don’t have anybody to have them with.”
Score, she thought. “Ah, well, some people like to start early. I know it’s way too early for me. And I don’t have anybody to have them with, either,” she added, wanting to make sure he knew she was available. “Okay, Garron, your cut’s all finished. How does it feel? Go ahead, run your hands through it, make sure it feels good to you.”
He lifted his hands to his head and combed through his damp locks. Khloe couldn’t resist, she lifted her own hand and “accidentally” brushed his fingers, sending a shock up her arm from the contact. She thought she saw him jump a little bit, too. “It feels really good,” he said. “Much better; it won’t be in my eyes now.”
“Great!” she said, giving him another grin edged with evidence of her attraction. “Is there anything else I can do before I dry it?”
He said no, so she blew it dry on the low setting, taking as long as she possibly could, not wanting him to leave. But soon it was dry, and there was nothing left to stall with.
At least I get to take the cape off now and stare at his gorgeous body for a few minutes, she tried to console herself. She unwrapped the cape from around his neck and stood back as he pulled his soft bulk out of her chair. Her knees felt wiggly, and her thoughts were wiggling, too.
They walked up to the reception area, Khloe asking him what his plans were for the rest of the day. Orla saw them coming and made a disgusted face, then hopped out of the chair behind the desk, brushing past them on her way to the back of the salon. Khloe got behind the desk and rung him out as he told her that he was planning to just go home and hang out, maybe test the latest level of the game he’d been working on.
She handed his change back to him, and said, “Thank you so much for coming in, Garron, it was really nice to meet you.”
She gave him another one of her low-wattage sexy smiles, not wanting to overwhelm him. She could tell that he wasn’t very confident, but if he had been…she would have asked him out right then. Maybe she would.
He looked at her and smiled back shyly.
“No, thank you, Khloe. You made this a really good experience. And your massage was fantastic. My head feels amazing. Here,” he said, handing her a twenty dollar bill.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that…”
“Yes, I do,” he insisted. “You did a great job, and you were really nice to me.”
“You shouldn’t tip me for being nice to you, Garron; you’re worth being nice to.”
He blushed, obviously at a loss for words. Just then, a snatch of the conversation in the break room floated up to the front of the salon: “…didn’t even fit…so fat!”
Khloe’s stomach lurched, and she saw the shame bloom in Garron’s face. They were both silent for a moment. She was, for once, at a complete loss for words.
He broke the silence.
“Well,” he said quietly, “it’s such a rarity that I get kind of shocked when it happens and sometimes try to overcompensate. Although I don’t think this is overcompensating. Please, take it, Khloe. The cut looks great, and I won’t have a headache for a week.”
“Thank you, Garron. Here – here’s one of my cards. It would be really nice to see you again.”
He gave a wry smile as he glanced at her card and pocketed it. “Thanks again, Khloe. Have a good night.”
“You too, Garron. Good luck with your game. You have one definite buyer right here when it comes out.”
He thanked her again and gave a small wave, and she watched his soft body quiver as he walked out the door.
“Darn!” she muttered. “Why didn’t I rebook him? Why didn’t I at least ask him for his number? Ugh!” She quickly typed his name into the computer and hit the search button. Nothing came up – of course Orla hadn’t taken down his information. She wished she would have remembered to do it herself, but she’d been too busy drooling over him like a puppy. And then her coworkers had decided to be assholes. That had thrown her completely off balance. She, unshakable Khloe.
She wanted him so badly she couldn’t even see straight as she walked back to her station to clean up. As she disinfected the counter and put her combs in the sanitizer, she replayed all the little details of the past…how long had it been? She looked at the clock and was shocked to see that she’d spent an hour and a half with him. Well, at least I had a good ending to my crappy day, she thought.
Then she heard the other stylists laughing in the back room, and felt her blood begin to sizzle. But thanks to them, I’ll probably never see him again. She tossed her things in her bag and stalked back to the doorway, her teeth clenched. They were all still giggling as she crossed the threshold and stopped, glaring around at them. “What the hell is wrong with all of you?” she demanded.
Their laughter stopped. “What’s your problem?” Jill asked, her lip curled.
“My problem is that I was doing a client out there, and you were all back here saying horrible things about him. He heard you. He’ll probably never come back here again.”
“Who cares if that disgusting blob never comes back? It’ll save our furniture a lot of stress,” Dannie quipped.
“Yeah, you were doing him, alright,” Orla smirked at the same time.
Khloe felt her stomach drop down to the soles of her feet. “You are all disgusting.” She turned her stare to Sami, and said, “And I expected better from you. I’m leaving.”
“Khlo, wait!” Sami called after her as she slammed open the front door.
“What?”
“What is up with you?”
“I just told you. Not only was that completely unprofessional, it was really mean. There is no reason to make fun of someone’s appearance like that.”
“Okay, well, number one, he was really, really huge. And number two, it really looked like you were flirting with him. I saw you giving him your special massage. You won’t even give me your special massage unless I beg you for weeks.”
“So what’s wrong with being nice to people?”
Sami gave her a look. “You definitely passed the line of just ‘nice.’ You were seriously working it.”
“Nothing gives you an excuse to talk about someone you don’t even know like that, especially when he can hear you.” She had reached her car and was digging for her keys in her bag.
Sami was now standing at the passenger side of the car. Khloe had been giving her a ride home for the past week while her car was in the garage getting fixed. “Why are you completely avoiding what I’m saying to you? Were you flirting with him, yes or no?”
Khloe ignored her, unlocked her door, and got in.
“Hey! You’re still giving me a ride home, right?” Sami’s muffled voice came through the closed passenger side window.
With a huff, Khloe reached over and unlocked the door. As mad as she was at her friend, she couldn’t leave her there to bum a ride with Dannie, Jill, or Orla.
Sami got in, and was silent as Khloe turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the lot behind the salon. She didn’t say anything until they turned onto Sami’s street.
“Oh…I get it. You were just being nice, right? You figured that no one would probably ever look at a tub like that, so you wanted to spice up his day a little? Give him a little pick-me-up? And you probably got a really good tip, too.”
Khloe gave her a withering look as she stopped in front of Sami’s apartment building. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
Sami crinkled her nose. “Because if you were really flirting with him, that would just be…bizarre. And pretty gross.”
Khloe shook her head. “I’ll see you Monday, Sami.”
“You’re not coming out tonight? What about Esteban?”
“I told you, I think he’s gross. You can go pick up as many slimy men as you want, but I’ll pass, thanks.”
Sami sighed. “Alright, sorry if I pissed you off. If you reconsider, please call me. If not, I’ll see you Monday. Thanks for the ride.”
In Her Chair
by Undine
Page 4 has new chapters 12-15 as of 1/5/2009
by Undine
Page 4 has new chapters 12-15 as of 1/5/2009
[Author's Note: The first one I've got the guts to post. I'm super-long-winded, so bear with me...
Part 1
Khloe sat in the back room of the salon, sipping her water and trying to erase the previous five hours from her memory. She’d dripped color on a client’s expensive new jeans, spilled the twenty volume developer all over the dispensary, and had just finished a three-hour spiral perm on an extremely picky woman whose only comment on her hair was “I guess it’s alright.”
She loved being a stylist, but days like this made her wish she could just crawl into a hole.
But she only had two hours until her shift was over, and she intended to take it easy. There were four other stylists at her salon, Synergy, but Khloe had been doing more clients a day than three of the other girls combined, picking up their slack for the six months she’d worked there. After the day she’d had, she felt like she deserved a break.
“Guess what that lady just tipped me,” Sami said, breezing into the break room, her blonde extensions fluttering out behind her. She flopped down into the chair across from Khloe.
“Hmm. You did, what, all-over color, a full head of highlights, and then a razor cut? Three bucks.”
“Two.” Sami groaned and sunk down further in her seat, her slim form lost in the big arm chair. She was the only stylist besides Khloe who really pulled her weight in the salon, and they got along pretty well. “I swear, people tip their waiters more, and the waiters don’t have to put up with them for three hours straight like we do.”
“You have a point.”
“I know.” She sighed. “So are you coming out tonight?”
“I don’t know, Sami, after the crappy day I’ve had, I think I just want to curl up with my cat and a book.”
“Oh, come on, Khlo! That guy…what’s his name…Esteban! Ooh, he was so into you last night. He said he’d be there again tonight, and he’d bring friends. Friends, Khlo. That means that I get to get in on the hot Latin action, too!”
Khloe snorted. “He was in desperate need of a shower and an ego check, Sam. He was so greasy he didn’t walk, he slid.”
“Oh, he did not.”
“Yes, he did. He was totally skeezy. And skeezy is not my type.” She squeezed another lemon slice into her water with decisive force.
“’Not your type.’ You’re just being difficult. I don’t understand you, you have all these incredibly hot men absolutely salivating over you, and you want nothing to do with them. You’re so damn picky,” Sami complained.
Khloe shifted uncomfortably in her seat, tugging on a deep chestnut curl. “I may have high standards, but it saves me from dealing with the whackos.”
“I don’t even know what your standards are…”
“Number one: isn’t the type of guy who goes to bars or clubs to pick up women. Therefore, any guy we meet when we go out is pretty much not a keeper,” Khloe countered.
“Oh, come on, they’re not all disgusting.”
“You’re right, some of them are just plain nuts.”
“Okay, so what are you looking for, then? What’s your type, Miss Picky?”
Dannie, one of the other stylists, saved her from having to answer. She was standing in the doorway of the break room, boredly chomping on a piece of gum. “There’s a haircut up there,” she stated.
“And you can’t take it, why?” Khloe asked somewhat irritably.
Dannie made a face. “Because I’m leaving soon...”
“And by soon you mean three hours,” Sami muttered.
“…And because I think it’s a guy, but he’s got, like, boobs. I’m not going near that with a hazmat suit, and neither will Orla or Jill.”
“What?” Sami said, audibly. “You mean he…she…is a transsexual? You know you can’t refuse to do someone because of something like that, Dannie, we’ll get sued.”
Dannie rolled her eyes. “I mean he’s super-fat.”
Khloe flushed and peered around Dannie to the waiting area at the front of the salon. There sat a young man in his early twenties, like her, looking around anxiously. Even at a distance, she could see that he was very attractive, with an innocent face and shaggy light brown hair. And he was very fat.
“I’ll do him,” Khloe said suddenly.
“Good,” Dannie said. She turned and sauntered back up to her station, where she plopped down and began filing her nails.
“I thought you were exhausted?” Sami asked her, looking weirded out.
Khloe felt her cheeks grow hot as she tied her apron on. “Yeah, well, I need the money.”
“Well good luck,” Sami told her. “I hope he fits in your chair.”
Khloe shot her a look as she left the break room, anxiously cracking her knuckles as she walked to her station and quickly got out her shears, clippers, and combs. Her heart was beating fast, so she slowed down a bit to give herself time to calm down. Just looking at this guy sent shivers down her legs.
When she felt marginally more composed, she went over to the reception desk to check his name. Orla, who was sitting there, said, “Oh, so you’re doing the lard ass?”
“Shut up, Orla,” she hissed.
The redhead rolled her eyes. “Here.” She handed her the clipboard where he’d signed his name. Garron Riese. Here for a wash and cut. And if no one else was here, he’d be getting a lot more than that…she thought.
She turned to the waiting area. He was seated on the edge of the couch with his elbows on his knees, obviously trying to camouflage his size. But he couldn’t hide the fact that he took up more than half of the couch, which could easily fit four people. Khloe felt her thighs tingle, and prayed that she’d be able to keep it together.
“Hi, Garron,” she said brightly.
He looked up, and she saw that his eyes were a deep blue grey, encircled and enhanced by brown-framed glasses. He gave a nervous smile as he stood, taking her outstretched hand and shaking it firmly.
“I’m Khloe; it’s nice to meet you,” she gave him her friendly smile, hoping to put him at ease. She saw his smile relax just a fraction, and quickly took note of his clothing. Baggy khaki cargo pants, Converse sneakers, and a slightly roomy long-sleeved t-shirt. He dressed to conceal, too. A pity, she thought. But she could still see the silhouette of his rounded frame pushing out of his clothes. The wide slope of his belly, the thickness of his thighs…she even caught a slight jiggle of his midsection as they shook hands. She suppressed a shiver.
“Hi, Khloe, nice to meet you, too,” he replied.
Oh, wow, his voice is even sexy…
“Come on back with me, and we’ll talk about what we’re going to do.” She led him back to her station, all the while feeling the heat of his presence at her back like a roaring bonfire. This is crazy…I know he’s hot, but my reactions are just insane. She stopped in front of her chair. “Okay, have a seat right here.”
She saw him hesitate before he began to lower his mass into her hydraulic chair. It was a tight squeeze, and she saw his face redden in her mirror as he sat. She regretted not talking to him about what he wanted up in the waiting area so he wouldn’t have to stuff himself into her chair yet again after his shampoo, but simultaneously loved watching him do it, even though she knew he was embarrassed.
“Okay, Garron, what are we going to do today?” she asked him, trying to make eye contact in the mirror.
“I need a haircut,” he told her, his eyes lowered. So he was shy. “Not too much off…I like to keep it kind of long, but it’s getting in my eyes a lot.”
“Okay, that’s not a problem.” He was very tall, so she lowered the chair as far as she could in order to reach the top of his head. She combed out a section of hair and measured out about an inch with her fingers. His hair was soft, thick, and silky, poker straight, and had gorgeous natural highlights. People paid her to give them hair like his. “You’ve got really nice hair, Garron. It’s really healthy. About this much?”
“Yeah, that looks good. And thanks.”
She smiled at him again, and she saw him give her a little smile back. She asked him a few more questions to make sure she had all the specific things he wanted down, and then told him she was going to drape him. She put a towel around his neck and wrapped the cape around it, just barely closing it on the very end of the Velcro because his neck was so thick. “Is that okay?” she asked him. “Not too tight?”
He nodded.
“Okay, let’s go over to the shampoo bowl and get you washed.” She led him over to the sinks and told him to sit, all the while taking shameless pleasure in watching the way his fat shifted beneath the cape as he sat and leaned back, wriggling around until his head was in the correct position. “Let me know if the water temperature is alright.” She turned on the hose and gently wet his hair.
“That’s perfect,” he said.
“Good. Now you just close your eyes and relax, Garron.” She shampooed and rinsed, and then rubbed conditioner on his scalp, giving him her special massage that she usually reserved for family and friends. As her fingers circled through his hair, she watched the slow rise and fall of his belly with the rhythm of his breath. It had been that very sight ten years ago which had turned on the light bulb in the dark corner of her mind that harbored her secret desire for fat guys.
She’d been away at summer camp, and her friend had become so homesick that her mom came to pick her up early, so Khloe had been left alone in her cabin. She had never been the type who could stand being still for long, so, with no one to talk to or go around with, she began exploring on the boys’ side of camp during free time. She wasn’t exactly looking to “do” anything with anyone – she’d already been kissed by two pretty good-looking guys since she’d turned thirteen that spring and hadn’t particularly enjoyed it – but she’d seen a guy around the camp a few times who intrigued her. He’d had spiky blonde hair, blue eyes, and a thick, heavy body with a round pooch of a belly. It wasn’t really clear to her why he interested her so much: he was funny and smart, and seemed nice, but…he wasn’t what she or her friends would call hot. So she sought him out, hoping to watch him for a bit, maybe talk to him, and figure out what the deal was.
She found him sitting under a tree with a book a little ways off from the boys’ cabins. Khloe was not a shy girl, so she sat down next to him and struck up a conversation. His name was Nick, he was also thirteen, and he was from the other side of the state. They spent a few hours together before the bedtime whistle blew, and this time only served to confuse Khloe more.
She knew that those feelings racing around inside her were of strong like for him, but it just wasn’t making sense. He had a cute face, and he was a really nice guy, but he was fat. And she couldn’t like a fat guy. They hung out together every day until camp ended two weeks later, and those strange emotions only grew in intensity.
On the last night, the counselors had organized a dance for the kids. She held Nick’s hand the entire time, and they danced to all the slow songs together. Afterwards, the counselors had a party of their own in the mess hall while the campers lounged back on logs around the campfire and told ghost stories. But Khloe was more interested in watching Nick’s belly rise and fall. She pictured kissing him, putting her hands on his belly under the starlight. She was shocked that she wanted to kiss him, but knew that it was a definite desire.
So she grabbed his hand and led him down to the little stream that ran behind the infirmery, and kissed him. He kissed her right back, and it was far nicer than either of the kisses she’d received thus far in life. She gently placed her hands on his belly, and it was like fireworks exploded in her stomach as her fingers sunk into his softness. She still remembered all the little details from that moment: the damp smell of the forest, the exact color of the starlight, how smooth Nick’s lips had been, and, of course, the way his fat had felt. She remembered thinking, Huh…I guess I like fat guys. That’s strange.
As she grew older, she only wished she could go back to the innocence and simplicity of that realization. Now that she knew what her desires were, she was bombarded with the societal pressures that fat was a horrible thing, and it was only normal to be thin and like thin people. She’d suffered through high school tolerating the muscular jocks who went after her, all the while secretly pining away for a fat outcast who would have never mustered up the courage to ask her out. Khloe knew that she could have asked him out any time she wanted, but she’d been too afraid of the social rejection that would follow.
A girl in her circle of friends had once shown interest in a guy from the Goth crowd, and the backlash had been incredible. She’d arrived at her locker the next day to find “freak lover” scrawled across it in permanent marker, and people made comments about her wanting to suck blood and all sorts of ridiculous things, all because she’d said that so-and-so was kind of cute. The name-calling had gone on their whole sophomore year, and Khloe could imagine the kinds of things they’d have called her if her “fat thing,” as she referred to it, was revealed. She became ashamed of her preference and tried to quash it, but it just wouldn’t budge.
She decided that when she went to college she would just be herself, and anyone who had a problem with her preference wasn’t worth having in her life. Since then, she’d never made a secret of her fondness for chub, but she never came out and admitted it to anyone, either. She’d dated a few cute big guys in college, but nothing too serious. Most of them couldn’t believe that she was genuinely attracted to them because of their appearance rather than in spite of it, and that ended things rather quickly.
She knew that her roommates talked about the fact that all the guys she brought home were big, but none of them ever had the courage to say anything to her face, so she ignored them. She was having enough trouble trying to remind herself that she wasn’t a freak, when so many of those guys had told her she was for craving their fat bodies.
Now that she was out of both college and cosmetology school and living on her own, she didn’t have to worry about explaining herself to anyone. The supply of attractive fat men in her area, however, was next to nothing.
But you, Garron, have made my day. Hell, you’ve probably made my year, you’re that gorgeous. She looked down at his face, admiring the curve of his cheeks and the soft double chin that padded his jaw. His skin was tanned, which wasn’t surprising, considering they were in a beach town, but he looked like he could have been a surfer, which was surprising, given his size. She again gazed at his belly, wishing that she could have washed his hair without a cape on so her view wouldn’t have been obscured. Come to think of it, if she could have, she’d have asked him to take his shirt off, too. She had a brief fantasy involving her client and a too-tight wetsuit that he needed help getting out of…
Khloe reluctantly rinsed him out and toweled his hair, and returned the chair to an upright position. Garron opened his eyes, his face looking a bit dreamy. “Wow,” he said, “that was incredible. Your hands must hurt like crazy at the end of the day, doing that on every client you wash.”
She couldn’t hold back a slightly wicked grin. “Who says I do it for everyone?”
He blushed, making his round cheeks look like apples.
“You can go ahead back over to my chair, I just have to wipe down the sink, and I’ll be right over.” She watched his tubby behind as he made his way back to her station, and held her breath as he squeezed into her chair again. Watching him from this angle afforded her a spectacular view of his love handles spilling over the arms of her chair. He had to be at least 350 pounds.
He’s really squished in there tight, isn’t he? she thought with a silent giggle as she squirted cleaner on the sink and hose. She saw that the redness in his face had deepened, and felt a little ashamed of herself for being so turned on by something that so obviously humiliated him.
If he had any idea how incredibly sexy I think he is… I hope he can get the hint.
She finished cleaning off the sink and returned to his side. “Okay, Garron, now we can get started.”
She picked up a comb and began to pull it through his hair. “So do you live around here?”
“Yeah, I live over on Ocean Avenue, actually.”
“Wow, you’re really close to the beach, that must be nice. You’re not too far away from me, either,” she replied, inwardly thanking her unbelievable luck. “I live on Forget-Me-Not.”
“That’s not too far from the beach, either. There are some really nice places on that street.”
“Yeah, I’m really lucky to live there, I love it. So what do you do for a living?” she asked as she picked up her shears and began to cut. She could have finished his cut in about ten minutes, but she took it slow. She wanted plenty of time to chat.
He got a bit of a strange look on his face. “I’m a video game designer.”
Khloe’s eyes widened. “Seriously? What games do you work on?”
“Uh, I’ve done Ancient Enemy I and II, City of Smoke, and right now I’m working on a sequel to it.”
“That is so cool! I’ve only played Ancient Enemy II a few times, but I love City of Smoke; it’s my favorite game.”
He looked incredulous. “You play video games?”
Khloe gave him a grin. “I know, I know, I’m a girl!”
She feigned a look of shock.
“I – no, I just…”
“I’m only teasing. I know it’s sort of unusual. None of my friends play. So tell me about your job, what all do you do?”
They chatted for a while about his work, and Khloe’s questions gradually drew him out of his shell a bit. He even asked her a few questions: how long she’d been a stylist, what else she liked to do. He was very polite and funny, and so sweet – he even sunk down in the chair a bit without being asked when she was having trouble reaching the top of his head. She caught him checking her out once, and she mentally cheered – that had to mean he wasn’t gay. She hadn’t thought he was, but one could never be too sure.
Now, she thought, is he seeing anyone…
“So do you have any kids?” That was usually a much safer question than, “Do you have a girlfriend?” Most younger people would automatically offer their relationship status when asked about their children or lack thereof.
He laughed a bit uneasily. “No, no kids. Definitely not. I’m only twenty-four, and I don’t have anybody to have them with.”
Score, she thought. “Ah, well, some people like to start early. I know it’s way too early for me. And I don’t have anybody to have them with, either,” she added, wanting to make sure he knew she was available. “Okay, Garron, your cut’s all finished. How does it feel? Go ahead, run your hands through it, make sure it feels good to you.”
He lifted his hands to his head and combed through his damp locks. Khloe couldn’t resist, she lifted her own hand and “accidentally” brushed his fingers, sending a shock up her arm from the contact. She thought she saw him jump a little bit, too. “It feels really good,” he said. “Much better; it won’t be in my eyes now.”
“Great!” she said, giving him another grin edged with evidence of her attraction. “Is there anything else I can do before I dry it?”
He said no, so she blew it dry on the low setting, taking as long as she possibly could, not wanting him to leave. But soon it was dry, and there was nothing left to stall with.
At least I get to take the cape off now and stare at his gorgeous body for a few minutes, she tried to console herself. She unwrapped the cape from around his neck and stood back as he pulled his soft bulk out of her chair. Her knees felt wiggly, and her thoughts were wiggling, too.
They walked up to the reception area, Khloe asking him what his plans were for the rest of the day. Orla saw them coming and made a disgusted face, then hopped out of the chair behind the desk, brushing past them on her way to the back of the salon. Khloe got behind the desk and rung him out as he told her that he was planning to just go home and hang out, maybe test the latest level of the game he’d been working on.
She handed his change back to him, and said, “Thank you so much for coming in, Garron, it was really nice to meet you.”
She gave him another one of her low-wattage sexy smiles, not wanting to overwhelm him. She could tell that he wasn’t very confident, but if he had been…she would have asked him out right then. Maybe she would.
He looked at her and smiled back shyly.
“No, thank you, Khloe. You made this a really good experience. And your massage was fantastic. My head feels amazing. Here,” he said, handing her a twenty dollar bill.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that…”
“Yes, I do,” he insisted. “You did a great job, and you were really nice to me.”
“You shouldn’t tip me for being nice to you, Garron; you’re worth being nice to.”
He blushed, obviously at a loss for words. Just then, a snatch of the conversation in the break room floated up to the front of the salon: “…didn’t even fit…so fat!”
Khloe’s stomach lurched, and she saw the shame bloom in Garron’s face. They were both silent for a moment. She was, for once, at a complete loss for words.
He broke the silence.
“Well,” he said quietly, “it’s such a rarity that I get kind of shocked when it happens and sometimes try to overcompensate. Although I don’t think this is overcompensating. Please, take it, Khloe. The cut looks great, and I won’t have a headache for a week.”
“Thank you, Garron. Here – here’s one of my cards. It would be really nice to see you again.”
He gave a wry smile as he glanced at her card and pocketed it. “Thanks again, Khloe. Have a good night.”
“You too, Garron. Good luck with your game. You have one definite buyer right here when it comes out.”
He thanked her again and gave a small wave, and she watched his soft body quiver as he walked out the door.
“Darn!” she muttered. “Why didn’t I rebook him? Why didn’t I at least ask him for his number? Ugh!” She quickly typed his name into the computer and hit the search button. Nothing came up – of course Orla hadn’t taken down his information. She wished she would have remembered to do it herself, but she’d been too busy drooling over him like a puppy. And then her coworkers had decided to be assholes. That had thrown her completely off balance. She, unshakable Khloe.
She wanted him so badly she couldn’t even see straight as she walked back to her station to clean up. As she disinfected the counter and put her combs in the sanitizer, she replayed all the little details of the past…how long had it been? She looked at the clock and was shocked to see that she’d spent an hour and a half with him. Well, at least I had a good ending to my crappy day, she thought.
Then she heard the other stylists laughing in the back room, and felt her blood begin to sizzle. But thanks to them, I’ll probably never see him again. She tossed her things in her bag and stalked back to the doorway, her teeth clenched. They were all still giggling as she crossed the threshold and stopped, glaring around at them. “What the hell is wrong with all of you?” she demanded.
Their laughter stopped. “What’s your problem?” Jill asked, her lip curled.
“My problem is that I was doing a client out there, and you were all back here saying horrible things about him. He heard you. He’ll probably never come back here again.”
“Who cares if that disgusting blob never comes back? It’ll save our furniture a lot of stress,” Dannie quipped.
“Yeah, you were doing him, alright,” Orla smirked at the same time.
Khloe felt her stomach drop down to the soles of her feet. “You are all disgusting.” She turned her stare to Sami, and said, “And I expected better from you. I’m leaving.”
“Khlo, wait!” Sami called after her as she slammed open the front door.
“What?”
“What is up with you?”
“I just told you. Not only was that completely unprofessional, it was really mean. There is no reason to make fun of someone’s appearance like that.”
“Okay, well, number one, he was really, really huge. And number two, it really looked like you were flirting with him. I saw you giving him your special massage. You won’t even give me your special massage unless I beg you for weeks.”
“So what’s wrong with being nice to people?”
Sami gave her a look. “You definitely passed the line of just ‘nice.’ You were seriously working it.”
“Nothing gives you an excuse to talk about someone you don’t even know like that, especially when he can hear you.” She had reached her car and was digging for her keys in her bag.
Sami was now standing at the passenger side of the car. Khloe had been giving her a ride home for the past week while her car was in the garage getting fixed. “Why are you completely avoiding what I’m saying to you? Were you flirting with him, yes or no?”
Khloe ignored her, unlocked her door, and got in.
“Hey! You’re still giving me a ride home, right?” Sami’s muffled voice came through the closed passenger side window.
With a huff, Khloe reached over and unlocked the door. As mad as she was at her friend, she couldn’t leave her there to bum a ride with Dannie, Jill, or Orla.
Sami got in, and was silent as Khloe turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the lot behind the salon. She didn’t say anything until they turned onto Sami’s street.
“Oh…I get it. You were just being nice, right? You figured that no one would probably ever look at a tub like that, so you wanted to spice up his day a little? Give him a little pick-me-up? And you probably got a really good tip, too.”
Khloe gave her a withering look as she stopped in front of Sami’s apartment building. “Why does it matter so much to you?”
Sami crinkled her nose. “Because if you were really flirting with him, that would just be…bizarre. And pretty gross.”
Khloe shook her head. “I’ll see you Monday, Sami.”
“You’re not coming out tonight? What about Esteban?”
“I told you, I think he’s gross. You can go pick up as many slimy men as you want, but I’ll pass, thanks.”
Sami sighed. “Alright, sorry if I pissed you off. If you reconsider, please call me. If not, I’ll see you Monday. Thanks for the ride.”
