Tales From Sha-Hair-Azad:
Teased Or Blown
By Najya Yasirah
Disclaimer: Antoine is not mine ( life sux). Reyjah and everyone else belong to me. No infringement is intended. Purely FICTIONAL, but stuff like this does happen.Dedicated to my “WHOADIES” Shorti Buu, Ladybug, and VN Levitsky. Y’all are THA BOMB!!! Send all comments to lilchikieboo@yahoo.com and lilchikeboo@hotmail.com .
This story is Rated R for explicit sex.
The picture of Antoine was borrowed from Arwen's Screencap website.
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“Reyjah, Antoine’s here,” said Midori, the beautiful Japanese receptionist of the Sha-Hair-Azad salon. Reyjah smiled and shook her head. “I wonder what lusty tale he’s gonna tell me today,” she said sarcastically. Reyjah’s inner beauty seemed to seep through every orifice of her body. Her brown skin glowed, and her smile was always bright. Her heart was more precious than any of her pairs of 14 karat gold hoop earrings. She checked herself in the mirror. She wore a pair of Agatha of New York City leather pants that laced on the fly and on the sides, a black button-front crop top to show off her natural cleavage and “Janet Jackson would cry” abs and a blue lightweight denim jacket. She had accessorized with blue, crystal Dolce &Gabanna choker, her silver Fossil Big Tick watch with a light-blue face and silver hoop earrings. Reyjah’s Filipina best friend, Sheila had taken the liberty of loosely curling her hair and raking it with her hands to give it a “I just had sex” look. “What’s up with the ‘Soprano’s’ look?” asked Midori who was poured into a denim halter dress and strutted in Chinese Laundry platform sandals. “What do you mean?” asked Reyjah as she applied a fresh coat of clear lipgloss. “Yeah, your dressed like ‘Adriana’,” said Midori. Reyjah chuckled. “Is that a good thing?” asked Reyjah. “Yeah if you like that ‘elegant white trash look’, said Midori. “Girl, don’t catch an elbow,” Reyjah scolded. “He makes you moist, don’t he?” asked Midori. Reyjah dropped her lipgloss. Thank God, the door was closed. “My are we blunt?” said Reyjah to Midori. Midori gave a wicked chuckle. “You want him, Rey, don’t try to front. Antoine is magically delicious and you wanna taste his lucky charms!” Reyjah blushed as she picked her tube of M.A.C. Lipglass off the floor and set it on her station. “Midori, the man’s a manwhore, he is not thinking about Reyjah,” she said. “Come on, let’s not keep ‘The Great Lovemaker’ waiting, Miss ‘Angelina Jolie,’,” said Midori opening Reyjah’s door. Reyjah laughed. It was already starting.
“Hey, Mamacita!” said Antoine as Reyjah approached him with her pearly-white smile. “What up, Don Juan?” she asked after being engulfed in his strong embrace. Antoine Laconte was a beautiful man. Not a handsome man, a beautiful man. He was very tall and Italian with deep, golden olive skin. His eyes were smoldering and his full, sensual lips were framed by a neatly-trimmed by Reyjah mustache and goatee. His newly chin-length hair was tousled and wavy. She could smell the Eternity on his neck. She closed her eyes and lingered in his embrace. Antoine could feel her chest heave his against him as he crushed her against his body. She was so pliable. Control yourself, man, he thought. Midori was taking a call, but she could still see the mutual attraction between client and hairdresser. Antoine reluctantly released her. “You look sexy,” he said in regards to her outfit. “You’re murdering those leather pants.” Midori held in her laugh. “These old things?” said Reyjah as she walked him to her work area. Lie. She had her mother send them from New York three days ago. Thank God for Victoria’s Secret new clear –strap thong. Before closing the door to her station she looked at Midori and stuck out her tongue. Midori shook her head and giggled.
Antoine’s eyes were closed when Reyjah’s fingers were in his scalp. The smell of her Nexxus shampoo traveled through his nostrils and up to his brain. He imagined her topless, as she did her task of ridding him of dandruff and split ends. He opened her eyes and noticed that her rock-hard abs were in his face. Her two navel rings shimmered against her soft- looking skin. He wanted run his tongue along the hills and valleys of her stomach. “Let me know if the water’s too hot, Antoine,” she said as she turned on the spray. She tested it against her wrist before applying the water to his scalp. Antoine would have never guessed that a scalp massage could feel better than sex. After she finished rinsing his dark mass of curly hair, se took a towel from the cabinet above her head. “Ow!” she said after bumping her head against the edge. Antoine opened his eyes. Her breasts were directly above his head. Oh how he wanted her nipples. “You okay, Bellissima?” he asked. “Yeah,” she said rubbing her forehead. Damn. That’s what she got for daydreaming. She sat Antoine’s head up and with the towel, gently pressed the water from it. “Soooo, how’s work been?” she asked. Sometimes she couldn’t believe how casual their conversations were, but being from New York, nothing was a shock to her. Antoine appreciated her down-to-earth nature as well as her brutal sense of humor. “I had to go to Santa Monica last night,” he began. “Which conditioner do you like better? The Redken or the Paul Mitchell?” she asked as she searched the wet bar. “I like the one that smells like coconuts,” he said. “I like the way you said ‘coconuts,’ “she said mimicking his accent. He chuckled. Reyjah’s New York drawl was so cute, but her singing voice was hypnotic. “Here it is!” she declared as she held up a black bottle of Redken. She had a great ass. Those leather pants were hugging every curve. Antoine could sense his arousal. She squeezed the conditioner into her slender, well-manicured hands and rubbed them together. She would be great with massage oil, he thought. Oh damn, dirty thought. Thank God for long, shampoo capes. She deeply massaged her lotion-drenched fingers into his damp hair. She began at his temples, lingered at his crown and traveled down to his nape. “Who was in Santa Monica, Ava?” she asked nonchalantly. Reyjah reaped the benefits of Antoine’s manwhoring. His clients were also her clients. “No, Ava is in San Bernadino, she says ‘hi,’ by the way.” “Is her husband gonna grant her the divorce?” “Yeah. Obviously, she married him for the money; he’s 82 years old.” “When a 24 year old woman marries an 82 year old fart, most likely it’s not for his body.” Antoine laughed. That was one of Reyjah’s worst fears. She was actually a millionaire. She was injured in a gymnastics competition due to faulty equipment on the committee’s behalf. Done, but not out, she worked as a waitress and went to cosmetology school. She was awarded $23.5 million dollars. She bought her parents a house in Manhattan, a Lincoln Navigator, and moved to California to pursue a career in fitness modeling. Antoine had no idea that she was wealthy. A lot of people didn’t. She didn’t live wealthy either. Reyjah enjoyed the service of making people look good and boosting their self-esteem. Her nonchalant demeanor and her willingness to listen kept her clients at ease. Antoine thought his eyes would roll out of his head. “Whoa, catch your eyes before they fall out,” said Reyjah as she continued massaging his scalp. “So was this a new client?” she asked. “Hmmm….yeah…” said Antoine. “She’s a really pretty woman from Armenia.” “I swear you are the ‘Playa Playa from the Himalaya’,” she said as she eased his head back down. “You’ve been watching ‘Martin” again haven’t you?” he said. Reyjah laughed. “Thath right , dat dere Mithy Poo.” She said doing her Otis impression as she rinsed his hair with lukewarm water. “Do the other one!” he said tugging her laced fly. OOOhh, watch out dere, now! She thought. His finger traced along the laces of her fly. Oh goodness, she thought. “Which one,” she asked, breaking the trance. “The chitlin’ loaf one,” he said softly, as he looked into her blue eyes. “What’s happenin’ chief?” she said in her “Hustleman” voice. “This here’s chiltlin loaf, it’s goes down easy , it don’t come up ruff.” Antoine was cracking up. After she towel- dried his hair. She led him to her station. Antoine watched her ass as she walked.
“Reyjah, sing a song for me?” he asked when he sat down in her hydraulic chair. “What do you want me to sing, Antoine?” she asked. She reached for her powerful, but quiet, hair dryrer. “Sing ‘Faded’ by Souldecision.” He said. “Okay….”:
When I get you all alone
I'mWhen I get you all alone
I'm gonna move in nice and close
Ain't nobody gonna interrupt my game
Ever since you've been hanging around
I've been trying to figure out
What I can say to you to get some play
Couldn't we do what we did last night again
Baby you'd and I be better than friends
Don't you think it's time we went a bit further?
I'm kinda faded but I feel alright
Thinkin' bout making my move tonight
I can't pretend that you're only my friend
When you're holding my body tight
'Cause I like the way you're making it move
I like the way you're making me wait
At the end of the night when I make up your mind
You'll be coming on home with me
Yeah you know you got it
And you know I want it
I can't wait to take you home
(You know you got it and I)
I don't want to be rude at all
I just want to be where you go
Think what we could do alone
Couldn't we do what we did last night again?
Baby you and I'd be better than friends
Don't you think it's time we went a bit further
Every night when we say goodbye
How can I help looking in your eyes
Wondering why, you and I haven't hit it
Can't we get it on?
(Chorus)
(Rap)
(Chorus)
* Written By Trevor Guthrie
Antoine smiled. He knew exactly what he had to do. When Reyjah finished straightening Antoine’s hair with a round brush and blowdyrer, she handed him a mirror. He loved the way his new razor-cut layers made his hair tousle at the shake of his head. He also looked five years younger than his 28 years. “As always, you’ve done a great job, Bellissima,” he said. He gave her back the mirror and she set it on her silver station. Damn she is so beautiful, he thought. “Thank you, Antoine,” she said. “As you know, my wonderful customers always bring out the best of my abilities,” she said devotedly. “What time do you get off?” he asked, standing up. “I don’t,” she joked. “Clean hair, dirty mind!” He laughed. “Really, what time?” he asked again, staring at her stomach. “I have to close, so I’ll be here until late,” she groaned. “I’ll come by to keep you company,’ he said. “I don’t want you out here alone.” “Aren’t you the knight in shining Armani?” she said. She cocked her head to the side. “You don’t have to, Antoine.” “Reyjah, I am a grown-assed man, and I do whatever I want.” He lifted her chin. “And if I want to come by and make sure that your safe, I’m gonna damn well do it.” He was serious. She surrendered. “Okay,” she said leading him out to the reception area. He paid Midori the salon fee, but he didn’t tip Reyjah. That was odd. “I’ll come by at 11:00, Bell, he said softly. He gave her a hug. Was that a gun in his pocket. She could feel wetness seeping. Damn, I want this man, she thought. Whe he released her, he kissed her on the nose. His full lips lingered along the bridge.“Make sure you lock up,” he said firmly. She laughed. “Who’s my daddy?” she asked. He pointed to himself before leaving. “WEEEEELLLLLLLL!” said Midori, from the reception desk. “He’s only stopping by to make sure I’m okay, Dori,” said Reyjah. “Girl, you are the first beet-red black person I have ever seen,” said Midori. “Just make sure y’all don’t break anything.” “When’s my next client?” said Reyjah in between laughter.
Reyjah had had 8 clients and her platform boots were killing her. As she swept auburn hairs into a dustpan, she heard a rapping at the front door. She looked at her watch. “Damn, he’s prompt,”she said. She walked to the front, sure enough, Antoine was standing outside. She turned the key and let him in. “You obeyed,” he said. She batted at his chest. He kissed her on the forehead. All of a sudden, her stomach growled! “Damn, are you hungry?” he asked. She giggled. “Gimme a break! I had 8 clients!” she said with her cute NY drawl. “Ms. Holden and I went to Applebee’s!” he said holding a takeout bag. “You got me hot wings?!” she asked jumping up and down. “Down, girl!” he said holding the bag away from her. She chased him to her station. “Argh!” she said. “You know your not ‘sposed to play with hungry, black women!!” she said beating his chest again. She took the box of hot wings out of the bag. She smelled them the spicy scent flew up her nostrils. She felt her mouth began to water. She was throwing down. “Damn!” said Antoine as he sat on her sofa. Licking her fingers, she sat down beside him. “How’s Ms. Holden?” she asked. Antoine was amazed at how she could eat the meat clean from the bone. “She’s fine, she loves her hair…hell, she loves you.” Reyjah wiped her mouth and set the box of wings on the floor. She threw the bones away. She went to the sink and washed her hands. “She’s tha bomb!” she said in regard to Ms. Holden. She sat back down beside Antoine and began taking off her boots. Souldecision was playing in the background. Her ears perked. “Call me Miss Cleo!” she said in a Jamaican voice. He laughed. All of a sudden, she burped. His eyes got wide. “OOOOhhhh, excuse me,” she said slightly embarrassed. “Damn, you sounded like a dude,” he said. She laughed. ”That’s okay, I’m still sexy!” She had taken off her jacket, earlier, so Antoine was staring at the awesome muscles in her shoulders and arms. “I didn’t forget to tip you, today, Reyjah,” he said as he began tracing the cuts in her shoulder. “I wasn’t trippin’, you know how we do.” He replaced his finger with his lips. “Exactly….and I want to do you soooo badly!” he said. “Stop playing!’ she said incredulously. He pulled Reyjah close to him. He could smell the ranch dressing on her breath. How sexy. “Baby, when I say I want something, I mean it. I’ve been wanting to see what’s underneath that smock for a long time, now.” Her eyes grew wide. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Rey, sorry to disappoint you,” he replied against her lips. “Shoot, I ain’t disappointed, I’m surprised!” she said. “All those beautiful women I’ve met…” “They’re all plastic and jelly,” he growled. He quickly undid the buttons of her crop top and threw the shirt on the floor. She wearing a low-cut, demi bra that opened in the front. She gasped. Just like the movies. “I miss the taste of real breasts,” he breathed as he unsnapped her bra and threw it to the floor with her shirt. Glory, her breasts were beautiful. He began licking a nipple. Reyjah massaged his head. His thumb caressed the other one. “MMMMMmmmmmm”, she said. He managed to press her back down on the sofa. His lips trailed upward along her throat up her chin and finally to her lips. They felt like wet pillows. His tongue plundered inside her mouth. Hmmm, taste like hotsauce. His hands busied themselves with taking off her leather pants. After finally unlacing them, he slid them off and they fell to the floor. Thank goodness the blinds were closed. “I wanna, taste you, Reyjah,” he groaned. “You’re a grown-assed man,” she said casually, her lips wet from his tongue. “you can do whatever you want.” He kissed her again. Antoine’s lips made a path from her neck, between her breasts and to her stomach. His tongue traced every line of her abdominal muscles. He flicked across her belly rings. She giggled. She was ticklish on her stomach. His bearded chin tickled against her mound. Good thing she had Brazilian waxed. His lips placed kisses along the inside of her thighs. Why the hell was he playing around? Taste dammit! Taste! Antoine sensed her urgency. He flicked against her out lips. “OHH!” she said in shock. His wet tongue inserted her, tasted every wall, consuming every drop of her like Maxwell House coffee. His hands caressed and kneaded her brown breasts, tweaking her nipples every now and then. His tongue’s pace was increasing. There was a knot of pleasure forming in Reyjah’s stomach. Her hips were beginning to buck. She grabbed onto the sofa. Antoine slid up her naked brown body and kissed her hungrily. She raised his shirt over his head and he slid his pants down, after first pulling a condom from his pocket. With the skill of his manwhoring, he slid the condom on without breaking the kiss that had become much deeper. There was a flood between her thighs. Antoine slowly entered Reyjah, enjoying her tightness. Reyjah tangled her hands in Antoine’s soft dark, hair. His sweat was dripping onto her body. Once he was fully inside, he intertwined his hands with her. “You’re a virgin?” he asked as he rocked against her. “OHHHYESSSS!!!!” she shrieked. Wasn’t it a little late to be asking? She began follwing his rhythm. In fact, she put her legs on his shoulders. The joys of being flexible. She was so warm and soft against him. He grunted. She yelped. He was baritone, she was alto, and sometimes soprano. His body was pure, hard muscle. Her tongue would not stay away from his chest. She let go of his hands so she could stroke his shoulders and back as he slowly massaged into her. She moaned. The pleasure was incredible. They changed positions so that she was sitting in his lap. His mouth was filled with her breasts, his tongue became her nipples’ new friend. His hands traced the detailed muscles in her back. Sweat consumed them both. He was a great customer…er, lover. “Great Lovemaker “ indeed. He raked his fingers through her long, black hair as he licked the sweat from her neck. “I love you, Reyjah,” he growled as his hardness moved against her wet throbbing center. “OOOOOHHHDAMNIBELIEVEYOU!!!!” she cried. He pushed hair from her sweaty forehead. He searched her blue eyes for her answer. He gave her another kiss, his tongue searching for the words. She felt it coming. He grabbed her tightly’ his was well on the way. Their bodies wracked and shuddered together. Reyjah’s head was spinning. She slid off of him while he threw away the Trojan. She watched him. He was such a beautiful man. He returned to the sofa. “Come,” he said as he reclined. “I already did,” she smirked as she lay down beside him. He chuckled. “Was that my tip?” she asked, her pretty face pearled with sweat. “Bell, didn’t you hear me say I loved you?” he asked. She nodded. “And I said I believed you,” she recalled as she stroked his chest with a slender finger. “You didn’t charge me, so I’m guessing that you are sincere,” she added. His dark eyes met her blue contacted ones. Their lips met in a kiss. “Here’s a tip,” he said. “Give me a chance.” She licked his bottom lip. “Do yo thang, whoadie,” she said shrugging. She was so casual, it was ridiculous. He shoved his tongue into her mouth. He loved that mouth. She stroked his cheek tenderly. Reyjah was a very affectionate person; another quality that Antoine liked. She slowly broke the kiss. “MMMMm…Antoine., would you do me a teeny-tiny favor?” she asked softly. “Anything, Bellissima, he said, stroking her back. “Would you pass me a hot wing?”