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Three Months In Paris Part Two free porn video
"Let's make you even happier, Wendy. On the way to dinner we will stop by
the Salon de Coiffure - Renee Garnier and we shall BOTH make appointments
for tomorrow. I am one of Silvia's best customers and she will surely
work us into her schedule. Would you like that, mon cherie?
"Oh yes, Claudette. I would like nothing more. Having you to introduce me
to the Salon will be a great relief for me."
"I thought it might. We wouldn't want pretty Wendy to be nervous in her
first appointment at the Salon de Coiffure. I will be there with you.
Maybe sitting under the dryers together. We could even hold hands."
"Now let's be off to make our appointments and have a wonderful dinner
full of wine and girly talk! And Wendy, for tonight, your hair looks
adorable. You are a very lovely woman."
It was a quick stroll, hand in hand, in the parisian manner, to the
salon. Arrangements were quickly made. Claudette's name worked wonders in
opening a block of time for her and for her new girlfriend. My heart
fluttered at the thought that my hair would have a "do".
Dinner was so warm and tranquil. We talked and ate and ate and talked. We
talked girl talk. Claudette would bring up a subject, seemingly out of
the blue and we would talk girl to girl for what seemed like hours. She
even asked my opinion on which was the best tampon. I told her that at my
age I was, thankfully, past caring about tampons. She laughed so hard. I
laughed with her and that was the way the evening went. She even offered
to set me up with her gynecologist. She had the sweetest smile when she
made that offer. I wondered if I should take her up on the idea. A woman
my age really has to keep up with her mammograms and pap smears.
After the obligatory girl with girl trip to the Ladies Room we left the
restaurant and strolled, slightly tipsy on our heels, back to our
apartments. We walked hand in hand, swinging our arms and thrusting our
breasts. That was how women walked with each other in Paris. Her hand
felt good in mine. It was nice to see my Rustic Rose nails intertwined
with her Passionate Scarlet.
It was not a long walk home. The evening was perfect. A slight breeze
ruffled my skirt and made the slightest goosebumps on my bare arms. We
arrived first at Claudette's door.
We stood together closely in the dim halo of her entry light. Claudette
fumbled though her purse and finally found her key. She slid the key into
the door but rather than opening the door she turned to me so quickly
that our bras brushed one another. Her warm hand found the back of my
neck and she kissed me full on the lips with a kiss that lingered
slightly longer than a companionable peck.
"Wendy, I will knock on your door about 10:15AM. Tomorrow will be a fun
day for both of us. I am so glad you came to Paris. "
With that she turned and was through the door. I turned and walked to my
door feeling and tasting her lipstick mingled with mine. Things happen
quickly in Paris. Was I ready for a female friend? Was I ready for a
lesbian lover? I had only been a female for two days and I had been
kissed, it felt so good, by a beautiful woman and made plans to have our
hair done together. Thank you, wife, for teaching me how of wear
lipstick!
My nighttime woman's regimen then to slumber with dreams of kisses and
curlers. Awaken in the morning, breasts perky in my teddy, shower, shave,
the first layer of underpinnings, skirt legged girdle, sheer hose
attached to the girdle's garter snaps, slid my arms into a seamless
molded cup bra, then have my meager (have to watch my figure) croissant
breakfast. I love seeing my coffee cup raise past my boobies.
After breakfast I returned to my bedroom and slipped on a pair of 3 inch
heeled opened toed strap pumps in pearl patent leather. Next I did my
makeup. Not as dramatic as last night but what a Parisian matron would
wear to visit her hairdresser. Light rose lips and blush and the
slightest touch of silver eyeshadow and only one coat of mascara. I never
have liked the lined eye look so I didn't do it then but maybe sometime
in the future I would experiment with raccoon eyes.
Next step was to wrap my corset around me and lace it as tight as I
could. As the laces brought in my womanly waist the corset forced my
breast tissue higher into my cups. I had cleavage. I dropped a full slip
over my tingling body and admired myself in the mirror. My first thought
was "Would Claudette like my choices?"
I put on a pale pink angora sweater with push up sleeves which buttoned
up the front leaving a nice "V" silhouette over my bra. Then I stepped
into a medium pearl gray box pleated A-line knee length skirt. I
accessorized with 3/4 inch silver ball studs at my ears and several
silver bracelets on my arms and a heavy silver link chain around my
throat. A solid shiny silver three inch wide belt finished my outfit. Now
for the hair.
Oh hell, forget the hair. I am going to the salon for a hair do. Right
now I grabbed a shimmering pink silk turban and tucked my man hair into
it's confines. It looked yummy with my silver ball earrings. Who said a
guy couldn't manage his hair.
I had a few minutes before Claudette would collect me. It gave me time to
think about what I was doing. Did I want a lesbian lover? Maybe. Did I
want to actually make the physical change to be a woman? Probably not.
Did I want to feel and look and act like a woman? Yes! What would my wife
say if she could see me now? Maybe she can. But I think she would look at
me very closely, put her finger to her lips in thought and then she would
find all kinds of exams she could give me so that I could learn to be the
best woman I could be. She might even make todays girly activities a
threesome.
The bell rang and my thoughts immediately shifted to Claudette. The
Claudette who had held my hand and laughed with me, and maybe at me. The
Claudette who had kissed me. A kiss which said a lot more than I would
like to be your friend.
I opened the door and beheld one of the most beautiful sites I have ever
seen. Her breasts were incased a shimmering metallic gold strapless
halter. As her tits were much bigger than mine the effect was stunning.
She had on a short black mini skirt and four inched heeled black leather
boots which came half way up her calf. Her make up and hair (why she
needed a new do was beyond me) were perfect.
I said good morning, you look divine, and she looked me over from top to
bottom. She placed her hands on my waist and felt the corset and her eyes
widened. She took her hand and gently tapped me on the cheek and then
made a beckoning motion with two fingers.
"Mon cher, Wendy, let's get you fixed up. Though I don't know how we can
improve on the vision of womanliness I see before me. Have your boobs
grown over night? And I adore your hair!"
Claudette took my hand in hers and off we swished the two blocks to Salon
de Coiffure - Renee Garnier. The closer we got it seemed that the slower
I walked. Claudette had to tug me several times to catch me up with her.
Finally I could see the shop door. I stopped in my tracks. I couldn't
seem to move my high heels.
"Wendy, mon cherie, what is wrong?"
Claudette looked carefully at my trembling rose lips and sighed.
"Wendy, I think you are afraid. What's to be afraid of? Silvia will work
wonders with your hair and I will be there beside you through everything
they may do to you. After all this isn't your first time in a salon. (IT
WAS) Come, dear, thrust your boobies out, put your shoulders back, put
one high heel in front of the other and come enjoy the womanly delights
Silvia and I have in store for you."
My bra strained against the soft angora sweater and I took Claudette's
words to heart.
A heart which was beating furiously. Claudette pushed the door open and I
stepped into the sounds and smells and sights of the ultimate feminine
retreat from all things male.
The acrid smell of a perm in process and the sounds of female laughter
and busy dryers and the sight of several women around my age tightly in
curlers of all sizes, serenely
sitting under gleaming dryer helmets, washed away my unease. I knew as
soon as I walked into this glorious torture chamber that this was where
Wendy belonged.
I gave Claudette's hand a huge squeeze and went right up to the
receptionist and said: "Mon nom est Wendy, s'il vous pla?t assurez ?tre
aussi beau que la femme peut l'?tre." The receptionist smiled and
Claudette put her hand on my shoulder and said "They certainly will, you
cute little salon virgin. Imagine a woman your age and as beautiful as
you, this being her first time in a Salon de Coiffure. For the next three
months this time will be your standing weekly appointment. Meet Violette,
the receptionist and here is Renee the owner, come to take us to Silvia."
"Bonjour, Madame Wendy! Claudette was told us so much about you. You are
now so lovely I don't know what we can do to improve, but we will try."
I reached up and took off the turban which covered my man hair.
"Ah, mai oui, I do see that there IS something we can do for the lovely
lady. Come this way, Silvia awaits."
We walked past the line of dryer encased women. I would shortly be one of
them, baking curls into my man hair. Some watched us pass and some paid
no attention to us at all. Claudette and I were just two more females
come to improve our beauty. I did notice that the woman on the end of the
line, who was being tortured by seemingly hundreds of perm rods, did take
a lingering note of my unkempt and somewhat mannish hair. But her gaze
drifted to my bosom and she smiled a welcome to me.
Silvia was waiting at her station. She was as striking as Claudette,
positively feminine even in a salon uniform which did nothing for her
figure. The uniform said "efficiency and professionalism" I was ready for
some professional work to me done on me.
"Bonjour, Madame Wendy, thank you for asking for me to be of service to
you. Claudette talked to me last night and suggested that you should sit
back and relax while I shampoo you and give you a slight shaping cut.
Then we will spend some time giving you a more, shall we say, alluring
hair color ( My eyes got very wide) Then after the coloring we will give
you a roller set and then some dryer time under those nasty machines you
walked by and then a brush out and a styling which will make you the most
beautiful woman of your age in Paris. After we see how things go today,
we may want to think about perms and other tortures at future
appointments."
"Now my assistant, Robert, will have the honor of trying, impossible as
it may seem, to make Claudette even more beautiful. You, Wendy, will be
all mine!"
Claudette sat down at the station next to me and Robert and her put there
heads together, discussing whatever a woman and her hairdresser discuss.
Cluadette said something which caused Robert to turn and look at me. He
smiled and with a rather limp wrist wiggled his fingers at me and went
back to showing Claudette pictures of parisian hair styles.
Silvia made small talk to relax me. She gently lowered my head back into
the shampoo bowl. As I was tilting back I saw my breasts strain against
my sweater and that made me relax even further. Warm water cascaded over
my unruly hair and I could hear Silvia making "Tsk Tsk" noises as she ran
her gently fingers through my hair and deep into my scalp. My hair was
now about seven or eight inches in length. It felt so good to have
someone shampoo my hair. My God, if this felt so good, what will the rest
of treatments feel like. I seems that I had missed out on a very good
thing for sixty some years.
After a rinse, Silvia wrapped a fluffy pink towel around my wet hair and
had me sit in front of the mirror for a few minutes while she attended to
some scheduling business at the reception desk. I looked in the mirror
and this very nice looking older woman looked back at me. The pink towel
gave me chills. My bra seemed to be straining under a new wonderful
pressure. The fluffy cotton towel wrapped around my head really perked my
confidence up. I liked that woman in the mirror.
I glanced over to Claudette to see that she was in the process of
undergoing a facial. Robert was applying a light green cream mask to her
lovely face. Since she didn't need a lot of work to be done, I guessed
that she was having things done which would wile away the time while she
stayed by my side. At the moment she was not looking my way and I felt a
strong affinity for her. She has been so nice to me.
Silvia came back to me, unwrapped the towel, fluffed out my man hair and
ran a comb through it. Next came a very short time with scissors flying
around my head and small amounts of hair floating to the floor. She did
not cut for long, she knew what she was doing.
"Wendy, Claudette and I discussed the problem of your hair color. Now it
is a mousy brown. Almost an old man's color. We can't have that on such a
pretty lady. At you age we think blondes and auburns and reds and blacks
are not for you. I am going to color you hair using platinum silver and
the slightest bit of cameo cream. Do you see those stainless steel dryers
over there? Your hair will be the color of stainless steel but with life
and bounce to it. Trust me, darling, you will be the sexiest 60 year old
woman in Paris."
"Oh, I trust you, Silvia. I am in your hands. Make me as beautiful as you
can."
I sat back and let her work. I will not bore you with the whole process.
I will say that the first time I was placed under the dryer I have never
felt more like a woman. Silvia gave me a Elle magazine to read. Here I
was sitting between two other women, under a sinister dryer, reading ads
for lipstick and diamond earrings, with silver foil highlight sheets all
over my head. A week ago I was sitting in the Jiffy Lube reading an old
Hunting Life while I waited for my car to be lubed. Now I was getting the
lube job.
At last Silvia let me out of the dryer. I was thoroughly baked. The foils
came out and she combed my silver hair to relieve all the tangles. I told
myself I would not look into the mirror until Wendy was finished. I did
see Claudette smiling at me while her head was being rolled.
"Now, Wendy love, let's give you a nice set then back under the dryer and
then to final styling."
Rollers appeared in Silvia's strong hands and section by section my new
colored hair was wound tightly, very tightly. Leaving hair for my bangs
a row was wound front to back and then each side was wound from the crown
downward. Then a few rollers were set into my bangs. A fine mist was
sprayed over all the rollers and I was sent on my high heels back to bake
some more. As I walked to the dryers Claudette appeared at my side, her
luscious hair also in a cloud of rollers. She pecked me on the cheek and
we took dryers side by side.
We were to be prisoners of the infernal machines for 40 minutes. From
time to time Claudette would reach out and squeeze my hand. It was such a
kind womanly gesture. I was so thrilled to be her friend. What a
wonderful stroke of luck to meet her when I did.
I don't think I would be half the woman I was becoming if I hadn't met
her.
When Silvia and Robert had finished torturing us girls under those
dryers, we happily tottered back to the styling station and Silvia flew
to work on and and Robert on Claudette. I wondered who set Robert's hair.
Maybe he did it himself. Hell I would have to learn to do it myself also.
Maybe Claudette could give me lessons and exams in home setting. I would
probably have to sleep in the damn things. The things we women do to make
ourselves gorgeous.
Rollers flew and hair was brushed and teased and rolled and sprayed and
pouffed. At last Silvia sighed and put her hand only shoulders.
"Wendy, j'ai fait de toi aussi beau que la femme peut l'?tre. Mon salon
est toujours l? pour vous. Ce fut un plaisir de faire une merveilleuse
personne comme vous dans la merveilleuse femme que vous ?tes aujourd'hui.
Bisous, ma fille douce."
("Wendy, I have made you as beautiful as a woman can be. My salon is
always here for you. It was a pleasure to make a wonderful person like
you into the wonderful woman you now are. Kisses, my sweet girl.")
I looked into Silvia's eyes and then I looked into the mirror. I gasped!
My man hair had become a shimmering silver helmet. My bags glowed half
way down my brow. The crown rose three inches above it old height. The
silver floated down and covered my ears and tucked under in a page boy
fit for June Allyson. I took my hand and gently patted the hair on the
side as many times I had seen my wife do. A simple feminine gesture. A
gesture I would use a thousand times in the next three months.
Claudette came over to me and once again kissed me on the check, being
careful not to muss my do. She had a gift bag in her hand stuffed with
items. She handed it to me and motioned for me to open it. Silvia and
Violette and Renee and several of the customers gathered around, oohing
and aging at my hair do, to watch me open this gift.
I first item I drew out of the bag was a large set of pink hair rollers,
the mesh kind with prickly points which I imagined would be terrible to
sleep in. The next item was a book, written by Renee, with hundreds of
pictures and diagrams, on how to set your own hair.
As I reached for the last two items, Claudette got a huge smile on her
lovely face. The first item of the two was a large box of Super Absorbent
Tampons and the second item was a bottle with a suggestively curved
dispensing top of a lavender scented Douche.
Claudette hugged me tightly and once again, in front of all these women,
kissed me long and softly squarely on the lips.
"Welcome to Paris, you sexy cougar!"
Please stay tuned for the further adventures of the Silver Cougar.
Ofelia
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Three Months in Paris
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