Perfect Match

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tagIncest/TabooPerfect Match

"Mandy, are you still dating Andrew Ackerman?" Bridget asked. Actually, she shouted the question because she wanted to be heard over the roar of hairdryers at the salon. A dozen women heard the question and turned to face Mandy to hear the answer.
The cute divorcee smiled proudly and said, "Yes. Tomorrow night we're going out to dinner at La Petite France."
"Oh. That's a nice restaurant," Carol said.
"Expensive too," Tabby added.
"This is your third date, isn't it? Bev asked.
"Yes," the thirty-three-year-old answered.
"You know what that means," Dorothy teased.
"That's why he's taking her to the fancy-schmancy French restaurant," Babs said knowingly.
"What are you talking about?" Mandy asked.
Dorothy stood and moved her hips provocatively back and forth as she said, "The third date is when you have sex."
The women in the salon all looked at Mandy. They expected her to blush or poo-poo the idea. Instead, the petite woman sat up straight and said, "I hope so. I haven't had sex in a year!"
The salon was filled with laughter. Even the young cosmetologist working at the far chair, Chrissy, Andrew Ackerman's daughter, laughed.
^^^Saturday 9:45 a.m.^^^
"Are you ready, Chrissy?" Andrew shouted up the stairs.
She came bounding down the stairs barefoot and wearing a red, one-piece bathing suit. Andrew paused, looked at his nineteen-year-old daughter, smiled, and said, "Honey, you're beautiful. You look exactly like your mother did, may she rest in peace, at your age. You know, I met her at the community pool when I was eighteen."
Chrissy blushed at the compliment. She was tall, fit, and slim. Cute, yes. Pretty? Maybe on a good hair day. But beautiful? Never. She had small eyes, a small mouth, and worst of all, small breasts. She was the spitting image of her mother and neither woman would ever be confused with a Hollywood movie star.
Chrissy stepped into her flip-flops which were by the door. She smiled at her dad. She loved him dearly. It had been just the two of them for eight years after her mother, his wife, died from cancer. She said, "Mom used to tell me about how you two met at the pool and fell in love. She always said that she saw you and knew you were the one for her."
"Keep your eyes open," Andrew said with a twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe today is the day you meet Mr. Right."
"Right," she answered sarcastically.
They got in the car and were in the pool by ten o'clock ready to teach a group of children, four to ten-years-old, how to swim. They loved the water, swimming, and diving, and they enjoyed sharing their hobby and passion with others so much that they taught the class for free.
A dozen kids attended their class this morning. They put them through the drills, dealt with their fear of the water, and had all of them swimming and splashing gleefully by the end of the hour.
After the class, a young boy walked past Andrew and said in a loud voice, "He's so hairy. He looks like a bear." His mother's face turned red and she chastised the five-year-old, "Honey, don't say things like that."
"Why not? It's true."
The mother gave Andrew a sheepish smile and hustled her little truth-teller away.
Andrew laughed, ran his fingers through his hair, and said, "I've always had a full head of hair." Chrissy looked at her father and said, "Yes. You do. You have a lot of hair everywhere. Your chest, legs, and back. The kid's not wrong. I think you've graduated from hairy to furry."
They shared a laugh.
The Ackerman's had lunch at home. As she was washing her plate, Chrissy said, "So you're going out with Mandy tonight. Good for you. She's a nice woman."
"You don't think it's too soon, do you?"
"No, Dad. Mom's been gone for eight years. I know you loved her and you've mourned her admirably. You should date. Mom would want you to be happy."
"Thank you, dear. Your opinion means a lot to me." He put his plate on the counter, hugged her from behind, and kissed the back of her head. He added, "You don't think she is too young for me?"
"You're in great shape. You're thirty-nine and she's, I'm guessing, thirty-three. That's not too far apart."
She recalled the conversation at the salon about third date sex and said, "You look good. You're healthy, aren't you? The plumbing still works?"
"The doctor said I was as fit as a fiddle at my last check-up," he responded quickly to her first question. He paused flabbergasted as he processed her last question. "Did you just ask me if I can have an erection?"
She turned and faced him. His hands rested on her hip. Her face was red. She relayed the story from the salon and said, "Mandy is expecting more than a kiss on the cheek tonight. Can you deliver?"
"Yes. I'm thirty-nine, not sixty-nine. I'm a healthy, fully functioning man!"
"Good. Sorry."
He sighed, relaxed, and said, "That's all right. You had some information and you shared it with me. I'm sure you had the best of intentions. You didn't want me to embarrass myself. I appreciate you giving me a heads up."
He removed his hands and stepped away. He paused before he left the kitchen, turned to her, and asked, "I have been out of the dating scene for nearly two decades until my two dates with Mandy. Anything else I should know?"
"I have heard women your age talk about their daughters and how dating now is different. They are surprised how sexually active the young men and women are early in their relationships and at the groom habits of their daughters."
"I see." He thought a bit and said, "How are young women grooming themselves these days?"
"Many women are hairless from their eyebrows down and some men are too. Lots of people wax or shave down below or at minimum trim."
"What? Are you saying no one has pubic hair anymore?"
"The days on the great bush are gone," Chrissy explained. "You know I'm a cosmetologist. I'm new to the beauty business and haven't built up a big clientele. I spend more time getting rid of hair than styling it."
He stared at her. His expression showed his confusion.
"I wax women's privates. I've waxed Mandy. She has no pubic hair, a pretty pussy, and a dynamite ass any woman would be proud to have."
His eyes bulged and opened wide. Chrissy laughed. "So you haven't had the pleasure of getting into her pants. Tonight you will or at least she hopes you will."
Her statement caused him to think. A worried look can over his face.
Chrissy tried to read his mind and asked, "Are you worried that your hairiness is out of style and will disappoint her?"
"Among other things," he said, sounding concerned. "That little boy called me a bear today and you referred to me as furry. If a stranger showed up at your salon in my condition and said that he has an important date with a woman he likes, what services would you expect him to request?"
"A stylish haircut and a body waxing."
"Okay. What?"
"Fix me up. I have a hot date with a hot young filly."
"You want me to wax you?"
"I want you to get me ready for my date with Mandy.
"Okay. Met in out on the patio in five minutes. I'll get my gear."
She collected her things. He went outside, grabbed a lawn chair, and sat on the patio. Chrissy brought out a pot and plugged it in. She tossed in a block of wax, opened a packet of wooden tongue depressors, and set a bottle of lotion on the table. On her next trip, she got her hair cutting supplies.
She draped the cloak over her father and got busy snipping. He chuckled and said, "You aren't going to ask me what I want?"
"Nope. You've had the same haircut for the last ten years. I'm changing it. Remember I said stylish haircut. Not vintage." They shared a laugh and she executed the cut she wanted. She put some shaving cream on his neck and used a straight razor to get a clean, finished look.
She handed him a mirror. He inspected the hairstyle and said, "I like it. Is it my imagination or do I look younger?"
She laughed and said, "You look nice. Welcome to the twenty-first century."
She took the cloak off him and cut hairs drifted on the wind. "I need you to lay down. Why don't you trade the chair for the lounge? And strip done to your skivvies."
Andrew replaced the chair with the lounge and undressed. Chrissy checked on the wax and stirred the pot. She dipped a stick in, pulled some wax out, and placed it on the back of her hand.
"It's not hot. Stick out your arm." He did and she applied some of the wax to his forearm. "Too warm?" she asked.
"Good. Let it sit there for a few seconds. Everyone is worried that ripping the wax off will be excruciatingly painful. I want to reassure you that is not the case." She quickly yanked off the small strip of cooled wax, rubbed the spot, and said, "There. Not too bad, was it?"
He rubbed the spot and said, "Surprising not. The rubbing helps."
"That's the process. Apply wax, peel it off, and rub the spot to desensitize the area. When I'm done, you can apply an aloe vera lotion that smooths and moisturizes the skin. Shall we get started?"
"Take these just in case." She handed him two ibuprofen pills and a glass of water. He swallowed the medicine. She instructed him to lay on his stomach.
Andrew got into position and Chrissy waxed his back, shoulders, and upper arms. When he flipped over, she added more wax to the pot, and she did his chest and belly.
"I think your hairy legs are okay," Chrissy said, "How's the equipment room?"
"Excuse me? Equipment room?"
She grabbed the elastic band of his underwear, pulled it, and let it snap back into place.
"Surely, men don't wax around their privates."
"Some do. At a minimum, it needs to be trimmed. I'm guessing you do nothing."
"No. I don't do anything."
"I think waxing would be a bit extreme. How about I hand you a pair of scissors, and you trim your pubes?"
"Is this necessary?"
"Yes. Just as necessary as your proper, stylish haircut. Mandy is in the salon two or three times a month. She gets her nether region waxed, her nails done, and her hair trimmed or styled. She puts in the time and effort to look good. I'm sure she will expect the same from you."
Chrissy handed him her razor-sharp scissors and said, "I'm getting a soda. I'll leave you to it." She went into the house.
Andrew stared at the shears, pulled down his underwear, and looked at his wild thatch of long hairs growing on and around his genitals. He grasped some on his lower belly and snipped. He cut more.
He saw some long strands hanging down from his ballsack. He grabbed the ends and snipped. He leaned down for a better view and attempted to cut the hair close to his scrotum.
"Ahhhhh!!!" he screamed. I'm bleeding!"
Chrissy heard his cry and ran to him. She found her father clutching his genitals with both hands and blood dripping from them.
"What happened?"
"I cut myself with the scissors."
"Is it bad? Let me see," she demanded and knelt in front of her nude father. He slowly moved his hands. She scanned his penis and didn't see any injury. She continued to look and said, "The blood appears to be coming from your scrotum."
"Yes. I was trimming the hair down there."
She reached in and lightly pinched the skin of his sack where the blood was coming from. "They always say apply direct pressure to stop the bleeding. Why don't you sit down?"
He sat on the edge of the lounge with his knees spread and tossed a towel on the concrete floor. "Here's some padding for your knees. I'm sorry about this."
"It's okay," she said, shifting her eyes from his penis to his eyes. "Those scissors are very sharp. I should have volunteered to do the trim."
They stayed in that position for a few minutes. His penis was small and thin. Chrissy put it down to the circumstances thinking, "He must be horribly embarrassed."
She checked a few times on the cut. And finally announced, "The bleeding has stopped." She stayed put and reached for the scissors."
"You're not…" He trailed off.
"Why not? Can you get more embarrassed? I've already seen everything. We might as well get some benefit out of this awkward situation." She looked at his face. He nodded. She went to work, grabbing tufts of hair, and cutting them. She touched and moved his penis and balls as needed to get the job done.
"Done?" he asked in a weary voice when she put her scissors down.
"Almost." She stood, grabbed the can of shaving cream and her razor, and knelt on the towel. She said, "This is the last of it. Some hairs are on your shaft. I'll shave them off and we'll be done."
"Is that necessary?"
"Any job worth doing is worth doing well." She paused to see if he objected. When he didn't, she sprayed shaving foam on her hand and rubbed it on his limp dick. She said, "Your shaft is easier to shave if you are stiffer." She chuckled and added, "Close your eyes and think about the buxom teenage checker at the grocery store. You know, the one you smile at and chat up as she rings up your groceries."
"You mean Gwen? She's a nice young woman. and I'm just being neighborly."
She pulled on his rubbery dick and said, "I've done this for dozens of guys and I'll tell you what I tell them. I've seen penises of all shapes and sizes so don't be embarrassed or worry about me. The harder you are the better the results and the likelihood of me cutting off your penis drops dramatically."
"Oh," her father grunted and closed his eyes. His dick grew, but not much. She stroked his dick and used her other hand to scratch the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.
"It isn't going to get any bigger," he said and let loose a little laugh. He was a little more than four inches long and not that thick. "Your mother said it was the perfect size for her. She was a petite woman with a narrow vagina. We were a perfect match. You know, the sensitive areas inside a woman are in the first two inches of her vagina so a six, eight, or ten-inch prick is superfluous.
"Big dicks are for show and porn videos," he said. "A long one can hit a woman's cervix, and a fat one can overstretch you. Either way, you're in pain. Your mother and I had a great sex life safely with my short dick.
"I know your mother told you how we met, and it was love at first sight. We met at the pool. The full story is I was alone and naked in the men's changing room, getting ready to put my suit on. I was excited (he raised his eyebrows repeatedly, indicating he wasn't commenting on his mood) because my favorite lifeguard was on duty and I planned to flirt with Cheryl Bookman.
"This was your mother's first visit to the pool, she turned left instead of right and walked in on me naked in all my glory. She giggled and said, "Sorry. I must be in the wrong room." She gawked at my erection and said, "You have to let me make it up to you. Let me buy you a soda. See you outside."
She giggled, turned around, and headed out. She paused, looked over her shoulder, smiled, and said, "That's the perfect size for me."
"Oh. Okay." Chrissy blushed and said, "Mom never told me that part of the story."
She shaved his shaft and said, "There. All done." She stood and added, "Why don't you take a shower?" She handed him a bottle of lotion and said, "This has aloe vera in it. You should rub it on the areas we waxed. I'll be glad to do your back."
He nodded and went inside.
Around seven, Chrissy and Andrew, dressed for their dates, came into the family room. They compliment each other on their outfits, got in their cars, and drove off.
Around ten o'clock, Chrissy returned to the house and found her dad sitting on the sofa drinking whiskey. "You're home early," he said.
"Yes," She went to the bar and poured herself a double.
"Bring the bottle over. I need a refill."
Chrissy topped off her father's drink and sat beside him. They drank in silence. When her glass was empty, she refilled it and gestured with it to her father. He nodded, and she filled his glass.
"How'd your date go?" he asked.
"Horrible. You?"
"The worst night of my life."
"It can't be worse than mine."
They drank and shared their stories. Andrew went first.
"Mandy was all done up. She's a beautiful woman. We had dinner and drinks, and everything was going fine. She invited me to her place for a nightcap and I accepted. As soon as we're in the door, we were all over each other like a pair of horny teenagers. We're kissing, groping, and taking our clothes off.
"We didn't make it to the bedroom. I gave her oral sex as she sat on the living room sofa. She was as wet as wet could be so I pushed her onto her back and mounted her. I was going at it and noticed her pussy was sloppy and loose. I didn't say anything because she's beautiful, her ass was as good as you said, and I hoped things would improve so I kept giving it to her.
She looked up at me and asked, 'Is it in?' I gave her a mighty thrust and said, 'Yes.' She responds, 'I don't feel anything.' I redouble my efforts, but from the look on her face, I saw that it hasn't gotten any better for her.
"I pulled out and sat beside her. She looked at my dick, made a face, and said, 'I may have been spoiled by my ex had twice the dick you have. I need more. I don't think we have a future.' So I dressed, drove home, and poured myself a drink."
"I'm sorry your evening didn't turn out better," Chrissy said. "Maybe I should have told you the whole story about what was said at the hair salon."
Andrew tilted his face and looked at his daughter.
She said, "I told you the truth she was hoping you'd bang her and that she hadn't had sex in a year. I neglected to tell you what she said about her ex-husband. She said she knew early on that their marriage was in trouble. Her husband was a liar, a gambler, and he cheated on her, but as she said, 'I put up with his shit for two years because the sex was so damn good. He had a dick the size of a beer bottle and, oh, the orgasms were divine.'"
"So she loves a big cock," Andrew said, "Enough said." He took a healthy slug of whiskey.
"My date was just as bad," Chrissy said. I've been seeing John for a while and we've been having sex. Bad sex."
She took a sip, sighed, and said, "I'm not a beautiful woman. I don't have big tits. What I lack in assets I try to make up for with personality, enthusiasm, and an adventuresome spirit. I suck cock, I'm down for anal, and I'll have sex when I'm not feeling it to make my boyfriend happy.
"John and I went to a bar. We had some drinks and fun and returned to his place. We make out on the sofa. I slid to the floor, got his dick out, and gave him head.
"Intermingled with moans of pleasure were comments of disappointment. He said, 'Watch the teeth!' 'Can you take more into your mouth?' 'Can you mix it up? Do other stuff?'. Finally, he said, 'Please stop. You're not very good at this.'
"I responded, 'Sorry. I have a small mouth.' I quickly stripped, climbed on his lap, and kissed him. His hands ignored my small chest, but he does grope my bottom so I think I can save the night. I'm not very wet so I rub my clit while we kiss and transfer my fluid to his dick and impale myself on his cock."
She finished the drink, poured another, and topped off his. Both sipped the aged whiskey.
She said, "He's got a nice dick. Big and thick. I always struggle to get it inside me and tonight it's worse and it hurts more than usual. I can't blame him. I put it inside me and I'm the one bouncing up and down on it.
"I'm not enjoying it and neither is he. He puts his hand on my hips and stops me. He said, 'This is working. You're a good person, lots of fun, but sexually we're incompatible. You're too small. Your mouth and your pussy are too small for my dick. This is too big a hurdle. We deserve good sex. We have to break up. I wish you the best.'

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