Tracy the Crack Whore II

Sean wrapped up at work early. It was a blistering hot and sunny spring day and he couldn’t concentrate, all he thought about was Tracy. He was a small-town boy from the mountains in the Southwest and had never been exposed to anyone like her. On the way home, he stopped at Walgreen’s to pick up some bathroom supplies and beer and found some other cool stuff, too. Getting back into his truck, he cracked open a beer and pulled out of the parking lot, his mind on Tracy again, the blow job she had given him. She was so sexy, so. . . What was she? Why was he fascinated with her?

His house was dark and quite; he wondered if Tracy was still around. He put his beer in the fridge, after grabbing a fresh one. His back door was open, and when he looked out back, he saw Tracy. She was sitting right outside the door on his porch in one of his lawn chairs, wearing a skimpy white bikini, and his headphones. She was all oily and she looked asleep. Taking a long swig of his beer, he wandered back to his fridge and grabbed another, and then walked out to the edge of the porch and sat down by Tracy, admiring her young body, noticing her funky tan lines were already disappearing. A little sweat had pooled in her little belly button and Sean was tempted to stick his finger inside it and splash it all out. She smelled like a little coconut. When he spoke, she jumped a bit, startled.

“Hey,” Sean said, smiling at her, realizing how glad he was to find her still here. She returned his smile, removing the headphones and twisting to face him.

“Hey yourself Grass Boy, how was work?” She asked. “I love the headphones. I found this chair in your garage, next to your box of porn.” She gave him a devilish wink. Sean watched her eyes travel over him finally resting on his hair. She sighed and shook her head. “Looks like you were outside all day, did you get hot? I slept most of the day, just got up a little while ago. Hey Sean? How come coffee smells so good, huh? But tastes so bad?” Sean shook his head, not really knowing how to answer that, or which question to answer. She laughed at him while her fingers traced little circles around her belly button.

He did the best he could trying to answer her questions, while his eyes took in her youthful allure. He offered to make her some dinner and openly wondered what she liked to eat. She interrupted him.

“Tacos!” she cried. “I’m making us tacos. I got all the stuff from the store already. Went this morning. You needed some cleaning stuff. I did your bathroom.”

“Did what, Little Coconut?”

“Cleaned it.” She stated. “It was nasty bad.” As she talked, her gaze often drifted to his hair, making Sean self-conscience. “I have an idea though. What would you think, or, well, would you like me to give you a haircut? Hm?” Sean pondered that. He needed a haircut, and she had claimed to have practiced on her dad. What could it hurt? He wasn’t certain though.

“Ok, but . . .” he stammered.

“Ok . . . Ok . . . Go change; put on your shorts and take off your shirt and hurry back!” Tracy ordered, spewing out the words fast with obvious excitement. Before Sean’s head had time to catch up with Tracy’s game plan, he was dubiously sitting in the lawn chair, wearing only swim trunks. Finishing his third beer, he watched Tracy’s scantily clad ass appreciatively as she ran indoors.

The volume of the stereo was increased, music drifting outside from his favorite Latin guitar CD. She returned with a fresh can of beer, placed it between his legs, before unzipping a small leather pouch and removing scissors and a comb.

Tracy stood in front of him glistening and grinning so wide Sean thought she might swallow her ears. She held up her little scissors, opening and closing them menacingly, grinning and wiggling gleefully. Sean smiled uneasily, trepidation knotting his stomach, and Tracy’s grin grew broader. She looked so sexy, oily, nicely tan, youthfully thin, it made Sean laugh, glad he could so easily make her happy, but he felt a little trepidation, the way she held her scissors, so ready to lop off his hair.

Tracy approached him, spread her legs and straddled his knees. With the comb in her mouth, scissors slipped over her thin fingers, she measured his bangs with her fingers, as he watched a drop of sweat form a bead and trickle down her tummy, as she came closer, her inner thighs pressing into his outer thighs. She sat down on his lap. Combing his bangs down once more, she began to cut his hair.

When some hair fell into his lap, Sean saw she wasn’t cutting much. She was going slowly, taking her time and running her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. Sean’s mind drifted off with the beautiful Latin music. Sipping his cold beer, his eyes lingered on the young oily body sitting on his lap. He grew very relaxed, when she stood, her body swaying slightly with the music.

Tracy worked slowly as he watched her hips move rhythmically with the beautiful music, feeling her hands run through his hair. He imagined putting his hands on her waist, feeling her move. But instead he took a sip of his beer and watched her belly button dance for him, wishing he could kiss it, taste it with his tongue. As her fingers ran through his hair, he watched the sun reflect off her oily ribs, as they moved back and forth under her soft skin. His eyes found her breasts, hardly covered by the tiny bikini . Between them, small beads of perspiration rested on her slick skin. She ran her fingers through his hair again feeling nice. His head rolled back until he was staring straight up into the sky.

She sat on his lap, pulled his head forward and looked into his eyes. She spoke to him.

“You ok, baby?” Sean returned to his senses. He focused in on her eyes. He smiled at her. She smiled back. “You were breathing like you were asleep for a few minutes there.” She said examining his eyes. “Then your neck went limp when I ran my fingers through your hair to measure it.”

“I was really relaxed there for a moment Tracy. Watching your body, the music, the feel of your fingers in my hair,” he explained. She smiled. “The beer. Mm.”

“Alright, sounds nice, Sean.” She let go of head while looking into his eyes. “You’re ok for more beer.” She handed him his can; he took a long swig. “I love this music Sean. I don’t think I ever heard anything like it.” She stood next to him now. He felt her lean against his shoulder, getting him a bit oily. He wished he could turn his head and watch her. “I need to buy electric clippers,” Tracy reflected. Tracy began to sway again. “I can’t sit still like you are listening to this music.” Good thing! She circled around behind him, and began working on the other side. He turned to look at her. She grabbed his head and twisted it forward roughly.

She spent another half-hour cutting his hair as she circled around and around him, her body driving him nuts. Sean found it to be a pleasant torture. Finally she sat on his lap again, admiring her handy work. Her eyes drifted down from his hair and found his. Her eyes became serious and she spoke softly to Sean.

“I’ll work on your hair more tomorrow or the next day, is that ok?” He nodded to her, looking forward to it. “It looks nice, I think.” she claimed, looking at him. “A lot better than it did, Lawn Boy!