Dye it blonde

"Blonde." she said, and the hairdresser cracked a smile.

"Let me guess, feminine?" she offered, knowing the answer, and receiving a smile in return. She started by washing his hair, which he was surprised by.

"You're not just going to cut it?" he asked.

"Maybe in some barbershops that's how they operate," she said, "but here we give the full treatment, and take pride in our work." She didn't mention that men in general go places with a lower amount of care. She just needed to keep him quiet, which it did. She conditioned and brushed his hair as well, and was surprised to find that when untangled, it was quite a bit longer than she had realized. He had probably never realized how long his matted hair had grown, but it fell easily past his shoulders. She dyed it, and finally gave it a quick trim to get rid of split ends.

She looked at her work, and couldn't help but feel that his face was messing it up slightly, so she decided to fix it up just a bit. She washed it, and rubbed in some lotion to keep it looking healthy. As she did so, she was surprised when, leaning back, relaxed and with his eyes closed, he let out a soft moan. It wasn't the noise that a couple of men, and, on one occasion, Wendy, had made before, the hidden arousal at being touched so intimately by her, but the complacent, relaxed noise many of her customers made, enjoying the process of becoming more beautiful. Before she even realized what she was doing, she had taken a picture of his face with her phone. She glanced to the side to see if anyone had noticed, and saw Wendy smiling, before giving her a thumbs up. She blushed, and stowed her phone away, deciding to wrap up the session as fast as she can.