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She saw herself sitting in an empty movie theater. She was
sitting in the last row, eating popcorn. In the dark she slouched, and
her skirt rode up her thighs. She felt the cool air of the air
conditioning tickling her pubic hair as she spread her legs. Popcorn
scattered across her skirt as her hand slid through her wiry tuft to play
with the glowing pulse she felt throbbing between her legs.

On the screen she watched herself get up and leave the theater.
She was in a large mall, and it seemed that all the stores were dark and
empty. She walked along the upper level, window shopping in the dark.
Then she saw one bright light, one store that was improbably open. Its a
barber shop, very old style. Inside she saw a man sweeping up, apparently
one of the barbers. He was young and handsome, slightly built with a
closely trimmed beard.
She stepped inside the store, making the bell ring. The young
barber looked up from arranging his tools. He was holding a straight
razor, and as she walked further into the shop he began to strop it back
and forth slowly on the strap that hung from his chair. She came to a
stop facing him from the other side of the big chair. Smiling, she
reached down and lifted the hem of her skirt to reveal her thigh, almost
to reveal her pussy.
"I think I need a shave," she said.
He nodded wordlessly and motioned her into the chair. He jacked
the chair up, tugging repeatedly on the arm that raises the chair on its
mechanism. He reclined the chair back so that she faced the ceiling. She
lifted her legs and spread them so that her skirt fell back to show her
thighs. He stood between her legs. A little machine on the shelf under
the mirror dispensed hot shaving cream. He gathered a little into his
hand and spread in a line along her leg. Then he passed the razor up the
line of hot foam, collecting it with the cool steel blade, pressing
slightly to slice the follicle just below the skin.
He started at her ankles, alternating legs, repeating over and
over the application of the hot cream and the stroke of the cool blade. Up
her lower legs, over her knees, down her thighs he traveled. He motioned
her to slouch forward, and when she did he lathered the space between her
pussy and thigh. With short sure strokes he shaved her, not the hair of
her pussy itself, but just around the edge to the base of her thighs.
Everywhere that the razor has passed over her, her skin felt taut and
silken smooth. The hot foam and cool naked blade inching closer and
closer to her pussy left her damp and expectant. She smelled her musk
mingled with the scent of the foam.
He cleaned the last pile of foam from the edge of his blade,
stropped it again a few times as he looked over her smooth skin. He ran a
soft terry towel over her legs to catch any stray particle of foam and it
was so unexpected that she gasped and arched her back in pleasure and
surprise.

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He took out a comb and began to comb the hair around her pussy.
She lifted her legs and spread them wide to give him access to her. He
took the strands of her hair and began to braid them, making a long row
across the top of her pubic region that doubled back and forth across her
mound like a snake, growing fatter as her hair thickened near her pussy.
Right at the apex of her slit the braid split into two, which he carefully
tied down each side of her pussy.
He worked silently, his hands pulling gently at her hair, working
the plaits deftly over and under in the tight space between her legs. The
tugging on her hair was transmitted to her skin and translated into little
shifts and almost imperceptible movements of the folds of her cunt, back
and forth around her clitoris as he worked the braid closer and closer to
her clit. When he wove the complex braid above her clit to make the
connection to the two side braids, his nimble fingers brushed back and
forth right over her clit, leaving her breathless and an inch, a breath, a
motion from climax. Then he finished the side braids and stood back to
examine his work. He held up a mirror between her legs to show her his
work, and she saw that there was now a crisp line around her pussy on one
side of which was smooth hairless skin and on the other was the intricate
braid of her uncut hair, twisting around the swollen folds of her pussy.
She traced the line of the braid with a finger, inviting him to watch her
as she watched herself in the mirror. But he seemed not to care for
watching her and returned to putting away his tools and cleaning up.
He returned her to upright and lowered the chair, and the folds of
her skirt fell around her silken skin and concealed her braided pussy from
view. Offering no more payment than a chaste kiss on the cheek, she
turned and left the shop, the bell ringing behind her exit.
She rode the down escalator, and walked past the still fountain in
the center of the darkened mall. At the far end she saw another store
with the light still on. A Joan and David shoe store. Looking through
the window she could see a young clerk straightening the displayed shoes,
reboxing items unwanted by customers. She pushed through the door, and
somewhere an electronic buzz announced her entrance. The clerk jumped at
the sound, rushing forward to meet her. He was handsome, slightly built,
with a short beard and glasses.
"I need some shoes. Perhaps you have what I want. Black. Open
toe. Spike heel, about four inches tall. Strap around the heel. Show
what you have." She sat in one of the customer chairs, while he pulled
over one of the stools on which shoe clerks sit. When he was positioned
in front of her she slouched forward, letting her skirt creep up her
thigh. She put her foot not on the slanted part of the stool, but on his
thigh, and rubbed it back and forth. "Fit me," she said.
He nervously placed her foot into the measuring stick and took her
measurements. He seemed flustered and kept rechecking the measurement as
his eyes drifted up and down her legs, from ankle to skirt hem. Then he
jumped up and almost ran for the stock room. He returned in a few minutes
with four boxes of shoes. Black, open toed, spike heeled with a strap.
She made him fit her in each. On the tight ones she had him grasp
her calf and push her foot down into shoe, leaving the mark of his sweaty
palm on her smooth skin. She made him buckle them with her leg
outstretched and resting on his thigh. To look at them she didn't stand,
but planted her feet on the slanting board of the stool and twisted her
legs about, sometimes deliberately opening her legs and letting her skirt
fall back to let the clerk catch a glimpse of her pussy for a second.
Finally she opted for the second pair, which was the tightest, and made
him fit her in them all over again. This time she spread her legs wide
open and crossed her legs at the ankle right above her pussy.
"How do I look?", she asked. She parted her ankles for a long
moment as he gulped, looking longingly at her pussy with its braid.
"You know what they call these shoes, don't you?" He nodded yes,
then no, then yes again before giving up on answering directly.
"I think there's something wrong with the stitching on the buckle
of this one," she said. "I think you should look at it very closely." He
knelt in front of her and leaned close to examine the buckle, and the
pussy right behind it. As he did, she looped the other leg around him,
pressing on his neck with her ankle, dragging him closer and closer,
finally sliding the other foot out of the way of her pussy and crossing
them both around his neck, pushing his head down between her legs. With a
little cry he buried his face in her pussy.
She had just closed her eyes, his tongue was just about to slide
across her clit when the phone rang. The clerk jumped up, breaking the
embrace of her legs and rushed to the cash register to answer it. From
his replies it seemed that the caller was the store manager wondering what
he was doing there so late and why wasn't the register off. Had he done
the price reductions on the brown pumps?
Balanced perfectly on her new shoes, she left the clerk stammering
his explanations, looking longingly after her, as she left with the
raucous buzz of the door.
Now the mall seemed totally dark. She passed back and forth on
both levels and saw nothing open still, until, looking down a side branch
she was sure she had checked before, she saw a light. It was dim, and
came from the few small candles of a restaurant. She went in, and nothing
announced her entrance. All the chairs were put up, except at one little
table, where a young handsome slightly built waiter was eating by himself.
When he saw her he got up and offered her his seat. He gave her a

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and said sadly that the kitchen was almost totally closed, but he could
get her a dessert if she wanted. She ordered a hot fudge sundae. He
brought it out quickly and hovered near her. She placed the napkin in her
lap demurely. Then she scooped up a fingerful of the hot fudge from the
side of the sundae and leaned forward to lick it up. She wasn't quick
enough, and some of it fell on her napkin. She playfully continued to
lick and finally suck her finger clean before turning to the waiter.
"I'm afraid I've made a little mess here. Could you help with
this?" He bent to remove her napkin, because she made no motion to lift it
from her lap. As he reached for it she parted her legs, making it fall to
the ground. As he bent further, his head dropped to the level of her
legs. Before he could straighten up, she took another dollop of the fudge
and ran it along the lips of her pussy.
He caught her finger as it ran along her pussylips, smearing her
folds with the warm fudge. He sucked it clean. He kissed the inside of
he thighs and with a great sigh of relief and desire she raised and spread
her legs, hooking the long heels of her shoes over the edge of the table.
He cleaned her cat-like with his tongue, delving into her, tracing her
folds and curves with his tonguetip. Her head fell back and her eyes
shut.

She watched the image of herself on the screen, the end in sight,
arching, moaning. She was herself near the end, arching and moaning, her
fingers sticky with her juice. The long spike heels of her shoes hooked
over the row of seats in front of her as the film ran off the end and the
screen went white and the world went white like the inside of a flashbulb
as she held herself open for the tongue of the handsome young man whose
face was buried in her pussy and the empty theater was filled with her
cry.