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I sat down beside her and took my tube of the same lipstickout of my purse, wiped off the lipstick I had been wearing and used everylesson my wife had taught me to make my lips as perfect as Claudette's.We sat there looking at each other and at ourselves until Claudette brokethe hypnotic state we were in by saying: "Get up, Wendy Girl, you have todo my hair now. We have plenty of rollers. I am looking forward to howyou will style my hair. Get on with it, girl! I am not getting anyyounger!"I stood behind Claudette as she sat in chair and I bent down and ran myhands over her satin bra clad breasts, I found the small mound of hernipples and gave them a pinch. Claudette oohed and I whispered in herear: "I may not be a "Silvia" but I did have the best teacher in theworld. I will make you beautiful as a woman should be."I washed her hair. Never before had i ever ran my fingers through theluxuriant locks of a woman's head of hair. I almost didn't stop, I wasenjoying myself so much. But. I was a good student, but this only served to set me apart from others, even beyond my shyness. I was horribly shy around girls, although I had the usual interest, and as a result, did not even date until my senior year of high school. That year, just having reached my 18th birthday, I still had never had a real date with a girl. However, I had a horrible crush on one of the most popular girls in school. Jean was an honor’s student, a cheerleader, and very pretty. About 5’6′, blonde, and about 34C-24-34, she was a teenage boy’s wet dream. She had just broken up with the quarterback of the football team and was not seeing anyone else. My friends, knowing I had this huge crush on her, urged me to ask her out after the next football game. I had to go along, even though I was terrified inside that she would laugh at my invitation. As it happened, we had an honor society meeting after classes the next day, and since both Jean and I would be there, I had my opportunity. As the meeting.
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