Nail Salon Naughty

The nail salon was meant to be a quick stop—collect my sister's fake nails, in and out. But she'd prepaid, and they insisted on giving me the treatment.

"Sit, sit," the girl said. "Can't waste appointment. We do your nails."

"I don't really—"

"Sit."

I sat.

She was gorgeous—petite, Vietnamese, with long dark hair and a smile that suggested she found the whole situation hilarious.

"I'm Kim," she said. "You first time, yes?"

"First time."

"Is okay. I make look nice." She examined my hands. "Working man hands. Lots of cuts."

"Mechanic."

"Ah." She nodded approvingly. "Good job. Strong hands." She started working, surprisingly gentle. "Your girlfriend won't recognise."

"Don't have one."

"No? Handsome man like you?" She glanced up through her lashes. "Surprising."

"Just... haven't met the right person."

"Maybe you meet today." She smiled. "Who knows?"

An hour later, my nails looked better than they ever had. Kim had also given me a hand massage that felt suspiciously like flirting.

"You come back?" she asked. "Next week? I give you discount."

"I don't really need regular manicures."

"But you like them." She was still holding my hands. "And I like doing them. For you specifically."

"Is that professional?"

"No." She grinned. "But salon empty now. My sister closed up front. Very private."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting—" She stood, walked to the door, locked it. "That we do more than nails."

She walked back, pulled my chair away from the station.

"This okay?"

"Very okay."

She dropped to her knees, small hands working at my jeans with surprising dexterity.

"Been thinking about this whole appointment," she admitted. "You very handsome. Very polite."

"Most guys aren't polite?"

"Most guys don't say thank you." She freed me from my jeans. "You say it lots."

Her mouth was warm, skilled, her small hands working what she couldn't reach. I gripped the armrests.

"Fuck—Kim—"

She pulled off, stood, slipped out of her work trousers. She was tiny everywhere, smooth and perfect.

"My turn," she said, climbing onto my lap. "Quick. Sister comes back soon."

She sank down onto me, both of us groaning. She was tight—incredibly tight—and hot as hell.

"Move—please—"

She rode me in the salon chair, the smell of nail polish and acetone surrounding us. Through the window, people walked past, oblivious.

"Close—touch me—"

I found her clit, rubbed while she bounced. She came with a muffled moan.

"Inside—cum inside—"

I did, holding her tight.

We cleaned up, she fixed her uniform, and unlocked the door just as her sister returned.

"Everything okay?" her sister asked.

"Very okay." Kim handed me my receipt. "He come back next week. Loyal customer."

"Good, good."

Kim walked me to the door, slipped a card into my pocket.

"Personal number," she whispered. "For... private appointments."

"The nail kind?"

"Many kinds." She grinned. "Same time next week?"

I walked home with the nicest nails I'd ever had and plans for regular appointments.

Best manicure of my life.