Chapter 10

Jon eased back into my chair, his eyes intent on mine. “Finish your story while you shave me,” he said, eyes twinkling. “You were telling me how you were just the ticket to put fun back in this new guy’s life. I’d love to hear just how you propose to do that.”

“That’s not exactly what I said, and you know it.” I gave him my sternest look. “Now, no more talking,” I said, “unless you’d like me to slit your throat – accidentally of course.” I held up the razor. It did look menacing. I made a show of swiping the blade along the strop, back and forth, probably more times than was necessary. Jon shut his mouth and leaned back in the chair, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. Usually, I raise the chair and lean the man back to shave him, but not today. I wanted to be able to look into his eyes. Giving a guy a shave can be a very sensual activity. Try it sometime. I lowered the chair all the way down, and wheeled over a stool for myself.

I handed Jon the hot towel, and he applied it to his face, never taking his eyes from me. I took the opportunity to swish the soft brush through the warmed shaving foam, and when Jon was done, I aped tucking my lips in, and Jon copied me. I gently brushed the shaving cream across his face, from his high cheekbones down under his chin. I took the towel from him and laid it across my lap, and leaned in to start shaving.

“Just relax, Jersey,” I said to him. “This won’t hurt a bit.” As I scraped the razor across Jon’s left cheek, I started talking to him in a low voice. I wiped the razor on the towel on my lap, and picked up my story.

“So, this guy,” I said, keeping my eyes on the blade, while Jon’s eyes stayed on me. “This guy’s job makes it incredibly difficult to be able to just relax. He pretty much needs to always be ‘on’, if you know what I mean. In my opinion, he needs some off time.” Scrape, wipe. “That’s where I come in. I won’t say I’m not impressed by his job, because I am. But…” Scrape, wipe. “But I can see past the job, and once you do? Well, he’s just a guy,” I stopped to look dead into his blue, blue eyes and smiled my sweetest, most innocent smile. Shit, I deserved an Emmy for that. I told him, “I know how to have fun with a guy.”

Jon’s eyes widened at that. I paused for dramatic effect, congratulating myself for shocking him. I waited another minute. Scrape, wipe. Then, I relented and explained, “I can do most of the things that guys find relaxing.” I gave him a pointed look, daring him to make a comment about our earlier, uh, activities. “I learned to shoot pool better than any shark you’ve ever met. I can throw darts. I’m banned from the local poker games because I can and will bluff you out of your underwear. I know all the stats on the Giants and the Yankees, and can talk sports until the cows come home. I ride a Harley. I can out-drink men twice my size. And man, can I ever dance.”

I smiled as Jon realized I wasn’t talking about being a slut. Told you I wasn’t. Scrape, wipe. I put a finger under Jon’s nose, and lifted slightly, so he’d have to expose his throat to me. Scrape, wipe. One more pass of the razor, and this side was done. I lowered his head, made a show of wiping his cheek with the clean side of the towel, and ran the back of my hand over it. “Mmmmm. Very smooth.” I gave him a little kiss, and wheeled my stool behind the chair and over to his other side. Jon watched me the entire time in the mirror.

“So, where was I? Oh yeah, dancing.” Scrape, wipe. “This new guy, well, he claims he can’t dance, but I’ve watched him when he didn’t know I was looking. He’s got moves that make me wanna get him horizontal.” Scrape, wipe. “And, hey, it’s not just me. My girlfriends have seen him move, too, and they agree with me. But I got to him first. Or, I should say, he came to me. Or in me; take your pick.” I smiled at the slight blush that crept up the shaved side of his face. I chuckled.

“The main problem with his relaxing, as I see it, is that he can never really go anywhere around here without being noticed. That’s OK; I have a game room over my garage that would put most pubs to shame. We can have our fun privately. Or not. Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me.” One final pass of the razor, and I was done. “The main thing is this guy needs to have some fun.” I used the towel to wipe the remaining little straggling bits of shaving cream from his face.

“How do you know he isn’t having any fun?” Jon actually looked like he wanted to hear my opinion.

I thought about how to answer. “Sweetheart, I’ve seen at least a thousand people in my chair over the years. Up close and personal. I spend a lot of time looking at peoples’ faces; into their eyes. I’ve learned how to read expressions, and this guy? Well if I read him right, and I’m pretty sure I did, he has sadness and pain in his gorgeous eyes, and it’s hard to have much fun when there’s all that other.” I shrugged.

Jon was quiet for a minute. Did I go too far? He cleared his throat. “I guess I can see that this guy does need to let go and relax a little. Can he trust you? I mean, you’ve only just met each other. How can he be sure that you’re, you know, what you seem to be?”

I started getting annoyed. Then I realized he was right. We may know each other intimately (for which I will be eternally grateful) and it feels like I’ve known him forever, but really we don’t know each other. “Well, he can either have faith that he’s as good a judge of character as he thinks he is, or he can cut bait.” I busied myself cleaning up my supplies, and stood. “I’ll tell him to his face, I’m not looking for love, or long-term anything. I’m looking for someone to have good, clean – who am I kidding: clean or dirty – fun with. I can always use more friends. And,” I winked at him and wet my lips, “friends with benefits are few and far between for me. He’s one of those, I think.”

With that, I turned to bring my stuff back to the other room. The ball was in his court now; let’s see what he’ll do with it.

I didn’t have that long to wait. Jon followed me into the back room and waited for me to put my things away. When I was done, he took me into his arms and held me close. “It sounds like this guy is pretty lucky to have found someone like you,” he said to me.

“No, baby,” I said smiling. “He’s lucky to have found me period.” I turned serious. “There’s nobody else quite like me. Listen, I meant what I said. I’m not looking for anything from you. I’m content to have some fun, whatever that may be, and I know how to keep my mouth shut if that’s what you need.”

Jon nodded. “Frankly, I don’t really know what I need except,” he dipped his fingers under the hem of the t-shirt and found me wet and waiting.