Ivory Gentleman: Shampoo, Pamper 'n' Scratch

Wet 'n' Sleek. Her hands moved with grace. Her fingers massaged his scalp as warm water cascaded over his hair to his shoulders. She cradled the crystal goblet between her red fingernails and he saw his reflection- sleepy and satisfied. The gentle drops of water from the faucet in the background provided a soothing rhythm. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the moment.

Ivory was unlike any other masseuse he had encountered. Her touch was more than skill; it was comfort. She understood hair—the way it held memories, secrets, and emotions. And today, she was about to release something within him.

“Relax,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the ambient sounds. "Relax"

As she massaged the shampoo into his scalp. He relaxed. The weight of the world seemed to slip away as Ivory worked her miracle

Her fingers waltzed through my hair, twirling and untangling knots. The shampoo smelled of pineapple and promise.

The gentleman remembered what his grandma had told him as a child when he refused to wash his hair. “Hair holds memories. It remembers tears and joy. The love and heartbreak. You have to wash away the past to make room for the future." She slowly rinsed off the shampoo and the water flowed like a cleansing stream down his back.

Ivory held the red goblet of milk delicately in her hands. She swirled the milk in it with her bright red finger nails. She was using the milk as a conditioner today. it was supposed to make is thick golden brown hair soft, silky and bouncy. She bent the goblet and the warm milky stream flowed onto his head. She wiped off the excess that trickled on his face and massaged the protein deep into his scalp. Her gentle touch was purposeful and determined. “You have found peace " She whispered. He leaned forward, relaxing in the warmth. She supported his neck with one hand and massaged his head with the other.

The gentleman felt the tears escape his closed eyelids. They were like liquid burdens rolling down his cheeks. She paused to make sure he was alright, her fingers still in his hair. She grapped a sponge lathered it with soap and began to rub his back and body. Further helping him to unburden.

The simple act of hair wash, massage and scratch has opened a pathway to vulnerability. He was touched, cleansed and healing.

Finally she used a large golden bowl filled with water to wash his hair. She stood over his head and tipped it over like a gentle waterfall. Slowly and surely she was leading him to complete redemption.

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