An Innocent Abroad


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What?’ Amy asked, a defiant sparkle in her eye.

‘Nothing. I was shocked that’s all’ I replied.

‘Don’t you think I’m entitled to a bit of fun?’ she challenged.

‘You can do what you like. You must admit though, that it’s a bit of a shock when you walk in on someone doing it. Even more so when you’re old enough to be his mother.’

She glared at me and turned dramatically on her heel, leaving me alone in the kitchen. Her kitchen. In the villa where I was a guest. Her guest. It was her villa to do as she pleased and she most certainly had been doing that when I came back a little earlier than I’d planned. With the young man who cleaned the pool. How clichéd could you get? I got some wine from the fridge so that I could think. She was a grown woman, divorced in all but name, who’d invited me to stay in a bid to jolt me out of a fugue that I just hadn’t seemed to be able to climb out of since Jim decided that he preferred his meat a little more tender than 46 years old. About half as old, in fact. Amy and I had known each other for years, had been on many a night out as a foursome, had swapped bawdy stories, but I’d never seen her in the throes of passion before and had reacted a little more than I’d have thought of myself.

It wasn’t so much that she’d felt the urge for a little afternoon relaxation, it was more the fact that she’d done it alfresco, by the pool, with a teenager. The villa was off the beaten track, but it was by no means isolated and she could be seen or even overheard from the other couple of villas in the community. I drained my glass, becoming more and more annoyed at myself for my reaction. My thoughts turned to home. I couldn’t stay. Not now. I wasn’t sure when there’d be a flight home, but I’d go to a hotel while I sorted something out. I went down the corridor to my room, the sound of the shower coming from the partly-open bathroom door.

I paused for a moment and then got out my suitcase, opening drawers and scooping the contents unceremoniously into the yawning case. I’d almost finished when I sensed a presence in the room. I turned, to see Amy standing in her robe, towelling her hair.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

I gave her a look that said “do you really need to ask?”

I’ll save you the detail of our little fight, but in a few minutes, we were sitting in the kitchen, an uneasy truce declared. She’d persuaded me to give her another chance, supported by my desire to be in the sun rather than moping around at home in the rain and wind. I looked at my half empty wine glass, wondering whether I should just leave after all.

‘You know, you should just let yourself go. Enjoy yourself while you’re here. Forget about who you are at home. Nobody knows you here. Just do

whatever you want’ she said.

‘It’s okay for you, it’s your house. I can’t just pretend that I’m here on my own and no-one will know, can I?’

‘Let’s put it like this: am I going to go home and tell all and sundry that I screwed the pool boy? Probably not. Why? Because no-one would give a shit. Would I go home and tell everyone that prim and proper Mary screwed the pool boy? No. Why?’

‘Because I haven’t and I wouldn’t’ I said, before realising how judgemental it sounded. ‘I mean…’ I started to clarify.

‘I know what you mean’ she replied. ‘Anyway, I suggested it and he said no.’

I looked at her dumbstruck. ‘You asked him about me?’

‘We were talking, you know, as you do. I asked him whether he would, given the chance. He said no.’

‘I’m not sure whether to be offended or relieved’ I replied.

I saw her smile. ‘It wasn’t an outright refusal’ she teased. I looked at her, silently urging her to give me the sordid details.

‘He said he would if you had shorter hair, but he’d probably pass as you are at present.’

‘Cheeky bastard. And you’re not much better for talking about me like that. Anyway, what’s wrong with my hair?’ I asked, a hand going to my head defensively. I’d had quite an expensive cut before coming out here, even if the guy hadn’t taken much off the length. It was a blonde bob when I went in and was a blonde bob when I came out, it was just that his skill with the scissors was superb. He’d sharpened up the line and I was really pleased with the way that he’d done it. You really do get what you pay for. It grazed my collar, when I wore a collar, which was something that I’d left behind in the rain with my everyday existence.

‘That’s what I asked him. He said that my hair was long, so yours had to be short.’

‘What? He’d turn down a screw because he doesn’t like the way someone wear their hair.’

‘Weird, isn’t it. Turns out he has a bit of a thing about short hair.’

‘So why hasn’t he asked you to cut yours?’

‘He has, but it’s sort of a seniority thing. You’re the new girl, so you get to do it.’

‘Let’s just kill this idea stone dead, shall we? I’m not screwing a teenager and I’m not cutting my hair.

‘What was it we just agreed? That you should just let yourself go while you’re here. Give him a go, just once, see what happens.’

I could sense that things were getting tense again and engineered an end to the conversation.

Over the next day or two, things eased between us. I’d spent a lot of time out walking on my own and had no idea what she got up to while I was out. It could have all been perfectly innocent and when I got back she was all sweetness and light. If she was seeing the boy while I was out, she was being careful. We hadn’t mentioned the events of the “incident” and there’d been no further mention of me getting together with the pool boy. It was only when we were at breakfast that I realised that it was the day for him to come to actually clean the pool rather than to offer additional services. Neither of us mentioned anything and after breakfast, Amy headed out to relax by the pool and I headed up to my room.

I sat there feeling foolish. There was a lot of truth in what she said. Why shouldn’t I have some fun while I was away?

The only thing was that I’d never considered my fun being so young, younger than my own son and already occupying the attentions of someone who I still regarded as a friend and whose villa I was currently staying in. I’d encountered a man several times on my little excursions. We were on nodding terms now, even though we appeared not to be in a position to exchange a few words as our paths crossed. He was still probably slightly younger than me, but well within an acceptable range and one that wouldn’t merit a second glance in polite society. If only I knew how to say to him that I was up for a roll in the hay if he was, no strings attached. Instead, I had been indirectly propositioned by a teenager, who had the temerity to lay down conditions in order to consider bedding me. He deserved a damn good hiding for even thinking that.

I pottered about for a while, hoping to pass the time until the coast was clear. I knew that he liked to make an early start, so hoped that he’d be away for when I wanted to go and lie by the pool.

I went to check whether it was safe, only to be faced with the stuff of porn movies. Pool boy was feasting on Amy, his head buried between her legs as she lay prone on a lounger. I turned away from the window in shock and embarrassment, before being drawn back by curiosity. Amy lay there without a care in the world, her hands gripping his hair, holding him tight to her. Her face was turned away, so I could only imagine her expression, while I marvelled at her ability to take her pleasure where she could, regardless of circumstances or surroundings. I started to envy her. I imagined lying there like that, abandoned to my basest instincts. Amy’s head turned, I darted back into the shadows, wondering whether I was quick enough. I decided to tidy a drawer.

I left it a good half hour before venturing near a window again. Amy was alone, reading on her lounger as if nothing had happened. I read a magazine for a few minutes before going out to join her.

Neither of us said anything, and despite exchanging pleasantries over the next couple of hours, there was no reference to her post-breakfast treat. It was only when we were having a mid-afternoon glass of wine that she broached the subject.

‘Jordi was sorry to miss you this morning’ she said.

‘He comes so early’ I replied.

‘He always comes just at the right time’ she replied with a smile.

I didn’t reply.

‘Did you like it?’ she asked.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Watching’ she replied. I could feel myself blush. I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to acknowledge that it was the hottest thing that I’d seen for quite some time. Thankfully she didn’t pursue the topic.

The following morning, Amy caught me off guard.

‘I thought we could pop into town. Have some lunch. Get you in somewhere for a haircut’ she said casually.

I looked at her.

‘You’re scheming aren’t you’ I replied.

‘Jordi asked about you.’

‘So?’

‘So, I thought we could have a girls’ day out in town. Do some shopping, get pampered, you know, just indulge ourselves.’

‘And I would be getting a haircut because..?’

‘Because you want to.’

‘If I wanted to, don’t you think that I would do something about it?’

‘Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it being you on the sun-lounger next time. A quick trip to the salon and Bob’s your nephew’ she said, clearly pleased with her repartee.

‘Don’t you think that you should give pool boy and I a little more credit than that?’

‘Not at all. He said he’d screw you in an instant if you got rid of that hair.’ She looked at me, almost taunting me, daring me.

‘I hope he was a bit less direct than that’ was all that I could think to reply.

‘He actually said “fuck”, but I thought I’d tone it down for you. But believe me, the boy fucks.

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

‘Will you come anyway, keep me company?’

‘You’re going to the hairdressers?’

She nodded.

‘You’re just saying that to get me to go, I’ll bet’

‘Not at all. I want to surprise him now that I know it’s a turn-on for him. Anyway, I can’t have you stealing him from me, can I?’

‘Who said I’m going to do what he wants?’

‘Have a trim, just enough to get noticed’ she said.

I shrugged.

We got ready and headed to town, parking in the same shady spot that always seemed to be waiting for us when we came in. I took a deep breath and started the short walk into the town centre.

‘I’m sure we’ll need appointments. We can’t just waltz in like that’ I said as our destination came into view.

‘Already taken care of’ she replied.

‘You made appointments, for me, for us?’ I stated incredulously.

‘Why not?’ she replied, about to launch into a more detailed rebuttal, but something caught her eye over my shoulder. I turned to see what it was that had distracted her. Jordi. I should have known.

He swaggered towards us as if it were pure coincidence that we were about to go into a salon to do his bidding. Amy moved past me to welcome him.

At least that’s what I thought it was. The welcome deteriorated quickly until they were talking sharply to each other. I couldn’t understand a word, but Amy’s command of the language was impressive. She was in full flight, both in verbal and non-verbal communication. The gestures were bandied about freely until Jordi turned on his heel and went back the way that he’d come. I watched him go, appreciating his lean body, his dark hair.

‘What was all that about?’ I asked, slightly concerned.

‘Nothing. You don’t want to know’ she replied sharply.

‘It didn’t look like nothing and if I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t have asked.’

She went and sat on a bench in silence. I sat next to her and put my hand over hers.

‘I’m sorry, he just annoyed me so much’ she explained.

I looked at my watch. It was five past. Common sense told me that any appointment would have been on the hour.

‘Shouldn’t we?’ I asked, looking towards the salon.

‘I don’t want to now. You go if you like’ she replied.

‘I don’t want to. I came to keep you company, that’s all’ I replied.

‘Let’s go and get a drink’ she said.

‘Aren’t you going to tell them we’re not coming?’

‘I suspect that they heard’ she smiled, getting to her feet.

It was the following day when she’d calmed down enough to tell me what the eruption had been about. Pool boy had chosen that moment to reveal that his ‘hair thing’ was a ‘no hair thing’. He’d asked her to shave her head. Can you imagine? She’d gone off at the deep end, as I’d seen, if not understood. I asked her whether he’d included me in his request, but apparently she hadn’t given him the chance. He’d back-pedalled and said that he’d accept a crew-cut, which I thought was pretty considerate of him. She’d offered to cut his balls off and told him that they were finished.

That seemed reasonable. I could see the trace of a smile on her lips, but she was clearly still very annoyed. She retired to a lounger by the pool and consoled herself with a glass of wine or two.

I was on my way back out from a trip to the kitchen for a top-up when I heard her on the phone. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but I was pretty sure that she wasn’t speaking English. She ended the call abruptly when she sensed me coming back and made no reference to it when I handed her another drink. It was slightly odd, but I thought no more about it.

I took myself off for a walk the next day, eager to give both of us a bit of breathing room. I’d already called her my “cell-mate” a couple of times and wanted to try to avoid us living hand-in-glove. She’d been good enough to let me be her house guest for a while, but I didn’t want to be her roomie. It was late evening when I got back, the heat of the day having gone, although it was still warmer than I was used to back home on most summer days.

I walked down the shady corridor, smiling at the urge to call out “Hi honey, I’m home”, but I could sense that I was alone in the villa. I put my bag down and moved over to the kitchen window, smiling at my attempt at stealth. I peeked round the frame and saw something that I hadn’t expected, but had at the same time, if you know what I mean. Jordi and Amy were in the process of making up. They’d decided that the best way to do this would be for him to be sitting on a chair and for her to be astride him. Her back was to me, her arms around him, her movement slight. I envied her for a moment, the way that she had an outlet for her urges, but no apparent commitment. The two of them spent little time together as far as I knew, but most of that was spent on pleasurable activities. Sure they’d had a flare up yesterday, but they were back to doing what they do best. I saw a slight change in the angle of Jordi’s head. He wasn’t focussed on Amy anymore. He was on his guard, aware that they weren’t alone, that they were being watched. I felt guilty about intruding on something so very private, felt guilty about enjoying watching them. I moved out of the shadows to where he could see me properly. There was an almost imperceptible nod of his head by way of a greeting and then he was back to concentrating on what was in his lap. A woman old enough to be his mother.

I watched for several minutes, no longer embarrassed. I was there with Jordi’s consent and I doubt that Amy would’ve objected. She’d challenged me about the other time that I’d turned Peeping Tom, but in a way that told me that she knew, rather than she objected. Anyway, he must’ve known that I wouldn’t be out late. I caressed my boobs through my dress in the absence of someone to do it for me. I saw Jordi look towards the window again and then watched him thrust forcefully upwards when he could see that I was watching. Just the once, then it was back to the subtle motion.

I wanted to get closer, but didn’t want to spoil the tableau. I was watching live porn, where I knew the participants. I didn’t make a habit of watching any other sort of porn, but wouldn’t claim that it never happened. It just didn’t do that much for me. It had started to become more frequent in recent months though, which was surely telling me something about the state of my love-life, or lack of one.

I marvelled at Jordi’s control, how so unlike an eager young man he appeared. He looked like he wanted to give pleasure rather than just take it for himself. I started to understand why Amy had no qualms about his age. What did it matter when you could watch the sunset while getting an unhurried screw. I wanted to go out, but didn’t want to ruin their moment. I wondered how I could do it: saunter out as if it were the most natural thing in the world or strip off and join them? I turned to the back door, my eyes drawn to a selection of gadgets and implements attached to a magnetic strip. My part in the play came to me in an instant.

I opened the door, Jordi looking up at the sound, Amy shifting her stance slightly. There was no squeal of embarrassment, no shouted objection at the intrusion. The rhythm such as there was, went unbroken. Jordi was watching me, his attention on me now rather than on Amy. She didn’t need his full attention and he knew it. She’d got the bit of him that mattered and as for him, he looked like a carefree teenager riding a bike with no hands. I felt slightly awkward at being fully clothed while faced with their nakedness. It would’ve been polite to strip off before I came out, but that hadn’t been at the forefront of my mind.

‘Have a nice walk, did you dear?’ Amy asked, as if it were the most natural scenario in the world.

‘Yes, lovely. I hope you don’t mind. It’s still so lovely out here’ I said, as if chatting to the vicar at a village fete.

‘Not at all. We’re all grown ups’ she said ‘well nearly’ she added with a squeeze of Jordi’s shoulder. I heard her gasp slightly.

I was already aware that Jordi was more interested in me than Amy at that point. More interested in “fully-clothed woman old enough to be his mother” rather than “naked woman astride him, old enough to be his mother.”

‘Still the old-prude eh?’ Amy said, turning her head to see me still fully dressed rather than butt-naked as she’d expected, given Jordi’s enthusiasm at my appearance.

‘Jordi likes what he sees’ I said

‘I know, I can feel. Horny little bastard.’ she replied with a chuckle.

I was standing behind her now, aware of Jordi’s eyes fixed on me. I stroked the back of Amy’s head, pleased at the purr of pleasure that escaped her lips. I stroked her hair, my hand touching her bare back. I’d always liked her hair, whatever she did to it, it always looked healthy and well-cared for. I’d known her long enough to watch the gradual shortening over the years, but she still had decent length that broke over her shoulders. The sunlight was accenting the rich, dark colour, which I knew for a fact wasn’t without chemical assistance, but it was expertly done, so there was no shame in it.

‘You’re being very friendly’ she said. ‘You should do that more often, who knows, you might like it’ she said.

I bent my head in close to her ear.

‘I’m going to make Jordi cum’ I said.

‘You’re going to have to wait your turn, I’m afraid’ she replied.

‘I’m going to make him cum and I’m not even going to touch him.’

‘And how are you going to do that?’ she asked.

I moved my hand up the back of her head, trying to tell myself that I wasn’t really in physical contact with another woman, and one who was in the middle of getting laid at that. She leaned her head into my caress, showing more approval than I would’ve expected. I’d never heard her talk about doing anything intimate with another woman, but who knew what she got up to during her time on the island. There was a plentiful supply of fresh meat with every plane that came in, so surely it couldn’t be that difficult to sate her urges as and when she wanted. I started to see that attraction in her current lifestyle, even though my plan was to find someone to settle down with. Maybe there was something to be said about keeping one’s hand in until Mr Right came along. My hand moved ever upwards, contact with her head lost, but I still held a hank of her hair between my fingers. Jordi was watching me like a hawk, Amy’s hair held aloft in my hand. I met his gaze as I slowly lifted the kitchen scissors up towards the vulnerable tress. I didn’t know if he’d been aware that I’d had the scissors in my hand when I came out, but he was very aware now.

‘Yes’ he uttered, the first word of English that I had heard pass his lips.

‘Do you want me to?’ I asked, hoping that he had a better command of English than Amy gave him credit for.

‘Do it’ he urged in his heavy accent. I was aware of Amy tensing, thinking that the instruction was for her. Jordi and I knew exactly who it was meant for as I positioned the scissors half way along the tress. It brought back memories of performing a make-over on my favourite doll when I was a child. Dolly looked so sad when I’d cut off her hair. I couldn’t see Amy’s expression, but I hoped that she would be a little more forgiving. She’d booked a hair appointment for herself, so she was clearly prepared for a haircut, just maybe not in these circumstances. I watched Jordi motion with nods of his head for me to make the cut closer to Amy’s scalp. I was about to chop off about 6 inches, leaving her with  about the same length, and I didn’t think that it was right for me to cut it shorter. I wanted to leave enough for her hairdresser to be able to fashion some sort of style out of what was left, but really wanted to give Jordi a little bonus. I brought the blades together, surprised at the ease that the scissors went through the hair, before remembering that they were the same scissors that Amy had used for some flower arranging.

They were good scissors, something confirmed by the handful of her hair that I was now able to wave in the gap between her and Jordi. It still looked healthy, if a little limp in my fist.

‘Fuck, Mary, what have you done?’ she exclaimed, doing her best to turn round to confront me.

‘Only what you were going to do yesterday, until your little spat with boyo here.’

‘Yesterday was about you, not me’ she said, still surprised at what I’d just done.

‘So you weren’t going to get yours cut?’

‘No, I just wanted to get you in there, to try to get you to loosen up a bit.’

‘That’s what friends are for’ I said, surprised at her scheming.

‘It was for your own good. The sooner you get your knickers off, the sooner we can have some fun.’

‘And by that you mean make me more attractive to your little boy?’

‘Less of the little’ she said. ‘Anyway, why don’t you find out for yourself while I go and see what you’ve done?’

I contemplated the meaning of friendship while I lifted another section of her hair and snipped. That cut was definitely not six inches from her scalp. It was going to be a bit more of a challenge for her hairdresser now. I could sense her bristle at what I’d just done, but could clearly see the approval on Jordi’s face. I paused for him to force his backside off the chair for a couple of thrusts and then snipped again.

‘For fuck’s sake, will you stop it!’ she said, clearly annoyed. Jordi was holding her in a passionate embrace, which tightened when she emitted a sob of frustration or passion or something. It was definitely a sob. I looked at what I’d done. I’d cut a reasonable amount, but she could still be considered a long-haired woman for the time being. In the right hands, she could still have a reasonable head of hair. I made another cut,

putting an end to that possibility. I felt wicked for doing it, but she’d annoyed me with her little plan to dupe me into cutting my hair. The shoe was on the other foot now. Her hair was about ear-length on one side and ragged round the ends at the back. I could see Jordi urging me on or at least that’s what it looked like. He may just have been trying not to shoot his bolt though.

‘Enough now’ Amy said, bracing herself to stand up. Jordi wasn’t having that, even if I was preparing to let her go. I looked at them entwined, looked at Jordi, all fresh faced and intense. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d find myself wrapped around him or someone like him before long.

Everything that I’d been brought up to do said that I couldn’t and wouldn’t, but the devil in me wouldn’t rule it out, not when I could see the passion at such close quarters. It was the same devil in me that lifted a chunk of hair from the front of her scalp and cut it as close as I could.

‘I’ll leave you to it’ I said and turned for the house.

I was sitting in the lounge with a glass of wine when I heard Amy come in. I heard her pad along the corridor and then heard the shower. I took a sip from my glass, but then was startled by the sudden appearance of Jordi in the doorway.

‘Thank you’ he mouthed before disappearing through the back door.

‘You’re welcome’ I thought, wondering if it would be time to pack my bags again. I heard the water stop and then there was nothing for a couple of minutes. I heard feet on tiles and there was Amy, clutching a towel, but quite naked.

‘Bitch’ she said. ‘Look at my fucking hair’ she continued as she made a move for the wine glass. I wasn’t sure whether she was genuinely angry or she was just playing up to it to get me to feel bad.

‘I think Jordi liked it.’

‘I know he did. I’m pounded to a pulp down here’ she said, touching herself gingerly. I didn’t really want to know any more.

‘You suit short hair’ I said, not entirely convinced by the ragged hair that she sported.

‘Yeah, well, you’re going to have to come with me to get it sorted out’ she said.

‘I don’t think so’ I replied. I drained my glass and headed for bed without another word.

I lay awake for ages thinking about the sight of my friend being free and easy with her favours. I had to admire her for her resolve just to do whatever she wanted, and everyone else be damned. She wanted a bit of fun and took it with someone that she could never have taken home to meet her parents, but here she was, hundreds of miles away, without a care in the world. She didn’t care what anyone thought, even me. The mental image of Amy straddling Jordi morphed into an image of me straddling him, enjoying him at my leisure. I saw my head tipped back, eyes to the sky as he awakened me with the gentlest of movements. I saw my hair hanging towards the ground, sleek and blonde and then in an instant it was gone. The image wasn’t detailed, I just didn’t have flowing hair anymore.

I woke in the morning and headed to the kitchen to get coffee. I wasn’t overly aware of the time, I’d started to ignore clocks and just go with whatever I wanted. I slept when I was tired and ate when I was hungry. The old, regimented me was entering Amy’s world in that respect. I listened for sounds of Amy, but there was nothing, so I sat and looked out of the window, across the olive groves and into the distance. I was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. I’d expected Amy to appear, but not from there.

‘So you’re up’ she said without much warmth.

‘Yeah’ I replied, without turning round. ‘There’s coffee in the pot if you want some.’

‘I brought some fresh rolls for breakfast if you haven’t had anything yet’ she said.

She knew a wonderful bakery, but it was a shame that it was such an effort to get dressed to go out for some.

‘Peace offering?’ I queried.

‘Maybe’ she said.

I got up to get a refill and to get one of the rolls. I was halfway across the room when I realised what she’d gone out for. It hadn’t been to get breakfast. Her hair wasn’t the ragged, hacked mess that I’d bestowed upon her; her head was now adorned with a covering or dark bristles, her previously flowing hair was now millimetres long, hugging her scalp like moss. It was streamlined.

‘Wow, look at you’ I said.

‘You didn’t leave me with much choice’ she replied.

‘You look gorgeous’ I said, surprised at myself that I could genuinely say such a thing to someone who had lost nearly all of her hair since yesterday.

‘I do, don’t I?’ she replied vainly.

‘So you don’t hate me, then?’

‘It was a shock, that’s all. More of a shock that you did it, rather than shock at getting my hair chopped off. There’s hope for you yet’ she chuckled.

‘What about Jordi? Has he seen it yet?’ I asked, not able to stop staring at her.

‘He texted me while I was in the salon, but I’ve not replied yet. I’ll let him stew for a bit.’

‘You’ve got an evil streak, do you know that?’

‘Maybe’ she chuckled.

We sat and ate breakfast together without saying much. We caught each other stealing the occasional surreptitious look at the other, but I’m not sure why she was looking at me. I heard her phone beep. Jordi. She ignored it.

I got ready and went into the garden to enjoy the morning sun, still not quite able to believe that you can live like this, carefree, relaxed. I lay on the lounger and closed my eyes. I wasn’t long out of bed, but it seemed natural, just to zone out in a slightly different setting with just the sound of nature as an accompaniment. I was disturbed from my reverie by Amy bringing me a drink. I opened my eyes when I sensed her approach and was met with the sight of her stark naked, with two mugs of tea. She saw my look of surprise.

‘After last night, there doesn’t seem much point in tan lines, does there?’ she said. I looked down at my sun dress, deciding that I was fine as I was for the time being. I took the proffered cup and settled back down. Minutes later, Amy’s phone went. I didn’t need to exert myself to discern that it was Jordi.

‘Loverboy?’ I asked when she’d hung up.

‘It was my young gentleman, yes’ she replied sarcastically.

‘Have you told him?’

‘Not in so many words. He’ll see for himself soon enough anyway.’

‘He’s coming round?’ I said, annoyed that I wouldn’t be able to relax as I’d hoped. She nodded.

I stood up and headed for the house.

‘Where are you going?’ she called after me.

‘To give you some space’ I replied.

I checked myself in the mirror, surprising myself at how relaxed I was about getting ready to go out. There was so much less primping and preening compared with when I’m at home. Nobody knows the ‘usual’ me, so they have nothing to compare it with. Don’t get me wrong, I made sure that I was perfectly respectable, but that’s as far as it goes. I slipped my sandals on and picked the car keys off the shelf. I knew that Amy wouldn’t need them for a while!

I didn’t really feel the need to go into town as a rule. I’d been happy holed up in the villa, but it just felt like the right thing to do. I didn’t really have any purpose for being  there, but it was nice just to stroll through the streets and watch the locals do what they do, slightly different to the way that things would be at home. I felt at ease there, I was unremarkable, just a solitary woman amongst the daily lives of strangers. I thought about the change in my relationship with Amy, after all, it could never be the same as it was when I thought that she was a respectable middle-aged woman, rather than a pleasure-seeking middle-aged woman. The image of her on the chair with Jordi was one that
I couldn’t get out of my mind. Now she was just a dramatic, sexy-looking woman, one who dared to be unconventional with her appearance as well as her actions. I had to admire her for that, and even though the change in her appearance hadn’t necessarily been of her choosing, she’d embraced it.

I went to a coffee shop and managed to order myself a drink thanks to the language skills of the waiter rather than any effort on my part. I sat by the picture window, taking in the different vista compared to what I was used to. I drank slowly, giving me the chance to go over everything that had happened since I’d come over. Amy had been an excellent hostess and despite our little contre-temps, she’d left me to my own existence, our worlds only meeting occasionally. She’d tried to entice me to enter her world and I’d resisted, but sitting  here on my own, I could see no real reason to object further. I drained my cup and left the shop, continuing along the same street.

I passed the hairdressers where Amy and Jordi had had their difference of opinion, quickening my step in case they saw me. I reached the end of the street and then turned left, for no particular reason. I paused just past another hair salon. Why not? Well, many reasons, but I retraced my steps and went in.

I apologised to the receptionist for my total inability to say more than “good morning” in her native tongue. She launched into a perfect welcome, which turned out to have been the product of a couple of years as a beautician on a cruise ship. She was a lovely-looking thing, with a compact body that I’m sure went down well on a cruise ship around the world.

‘So, what can I do for you?’ she asked eventually, after listing most of the ports in the world that she had visited.

‘I don’t know really. I think it’s time I got rid of this and just have something that’s easy to manage, low maintenance, cooler in this sort of weather’ I said, surprising myself at my summary. I should’ve added that my friend looked better after I hacked off her hair than she did before and that I was hopeful of snaring my own “dildo with attached, attractive young man” before too long. That’s what it boiled down to: Any was getting laid at will and I wasn’t. It was time for me to get some and if this is what it took, well, it was a price worth paying.

The stylist introduced herself as Carolina, which I was grateful for, because I could pronounce it. I really must do something about getting to grips with the language if I was going to be here much longer. That all depended on the outcome from today’s experiment really.

She looked me up and down and then led me into the salon area. It must’ve been her turn for a client, because another member of staff slid behind the reception desk to replace her. She made polite chit chat as she settled me into a seat and covered me with a gown. Then it was down to business.

‘Okay than, we need to set some limits here, decide what you like and what you don’t’ she said. I shrugged.

‘I’ll leave it to your professional judgement’ I said.

‘You must have some idea what you want’ she said with a smile that silently asked what sort of idiot I was.

‘Honestly, I just want a break from the hassle of making sure that it looks okay. If you can free me from that, I’ll be happy.’

‘We can look through some style books, see the sort of thing that you like’ she ventured.

‘I don’t want anything that I need to style’ I replied a little too quickly. I didn’t mean to sound churlish, but that’s probably what I did sound like.

‘Okay, but that doesn’t leave much on the table…’

She was right. I thought about the way Amy looked when I saw her with her repaired hair this morning. I thought about the blazing row that she’d had with Jordi at the suggestion that she shaved her head. I thought about Jordi wanting a woman that he found attractive enough to screw, to shave her hair off. He’d want her to do that and he’d still want her?

‘Would you shave it for me?’ I asked abruptly. I could see from the change in her expression that I really had said that aloud.

‘When you say “shave”, you mean with the clippers?’

‘I’m not sure what the best way to do it would be, but if you shaved it off, I wouldn’t have to worry about it at all, would I?’

‘All off? Bald? Nothing at all?’ she asked, embarking on as many different ways of saying the same thing as she could think of.

‘Why not? Shave it off. It’ll grow again if I don’t like it’ I replied. I wondered if there was an element of wanting to go one step further than Amy in all of this. I don’t think that I’d win a challenge on what she’d be prepared to do sexually (something told me that I’d seen nothing so far), so why didn’t I do this. How long would it take to get to the length that hers was now anyway. A couple of weeks?

I saw her nodding slowly at the prospect.

‘I can do that, but is it really what you want? I can give you a really cute crop, put some colour in it, it’d be gorgeous.’

‘When I walk out of here, maybe, but how long before it looks bad?’

‘Maybe not the colour then?’ she replied before walking away from me. I was left alone with my thoughts, able to look at the salon via the reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t large by any means, but it was modern and well-equipped. The stylists were wearing their own clothes rather than any sort of uniform, which I quite liked. It made it seem less like some sort of corporate experience, more bespoke somehow. Carolina was probably in her mid-thirties, no spring-chicken, but still comfortably younger than me. Her long, straight, dark hair showed that she wasn’t one for too much experimentation when it came to her own hair. There was no other customer in the salon, so I was starting to get the impression that

I’d been abandoned. I still had the memory of Amy and Jordi to keep me company, but there was no other activity.

I heard the stylist coming back from wherever it was that she’d been and was handed a hair style magazine.

‘Have a look at page 37’ she said. I did as instructed and looked at the neat, elfin crop on the young model. She was too young for me to see any resemblance to myself. I told Carolina that lovely as it was, I didn’t think that it was for me.

‘Okay, worth a try’ she said.

I hadn’t been taking too much notice of what she was doing, I was more intent on declining her suggestion without offending her, so it was a bit of surprise that she took up a position behind me so quickly. Her left hand made the briefest contact with my forehead and then eased swiftly back over the crown, followed by motion from her right hand. It took me a moment to register this flurry of activity and to take in my reflection in the mirror.

I could see her poised, waiting for a reaction. I looked at the clippers in her hand and assessed the near-hairless strip across the top of my head.

‘Is that the sort of thing you were thinking of?’ she asked.

‘And if I say no?’

‘Then we’ve got a problem, haven’t we’ she smiled.

‘You can’t stop now, anyway, can you’ I remarked, still taking in the enormity of what she’d just done, what I’d just done. I was really going to be bald. Me! What do you think of that then, young Jordi? I’m doing it and Amy hasn’t. Want to screw me now? Well, you can’t! What do you think of that?

That little triumphant outburst in my mind took place in the same amount of time as it took for Carolina to clear the top of my head of hair, leaving me looking completely ridiculous. I urged her on, wanting to get through the transitional stage as quickly as possible. She was at my temple, sweeping the hair away as if it hadn’t actually been rooted there. It was so effortless, so ruthless. I couldn’t believe that I was wishing her every speed in what she was doing, but now that I had embarked on the journey to wherever I was going, I wanted to shed my baggage as quickly as possible.

The last tress fell and the stylist was left with the task of making sure that what she’d done was even. She went over and over my scalp with the clippers, barely touching me, or so it seemed. She’d worked in silence apart from the initial exchange. I’m not sure whether it was for the benefit of her concentration or to allow me to contemplate the change. It most definitely was change. I was no longer the unremarkable, middle-aged woman. I was bald, well sand-papery by the look of it, and you couldn’t say that about too many of my peers.

The clippers were turned off and the mechanical touch was replaced by the stylist’s fingertips. She paused, looked at me in the mirror and moved to one side to put the clippers down. I watched her open a cupboard behind me and take out a small bowl. A small bowl that she stirred briefly with a fat-handled brush, which was then taken out of the bowl and touched to my head. Shaving cream.

‘You’re going to shave it completely?’ I asked, my surprise barely contained.

‘You wanted to shave your head, I’m going to shave your head’ she replied with a resolute look on her face.

‘I suppose I did, didn’t I, but I wasn’t expecting actual shaving foam’ I replied.

‘I can do it without, but you mightn’t like that’ she chuckled.

‘Shaving foam’s fine’ I said, trying to reconcile the image of me with an increasing amount of shaving foam being smeared over my head, with the image of my recent self, the self that had walked in here not fifteen minutes before. Well, if you’re going to do something, you may as well do it properly!

The bowl was returned to the cupboard and she turned back to me armed with a cut-throat razor.

‘I thought those only existed in films’ I observed, trying to conceal the slight nervousness I felt at having something like that making contact with my skin. It did make contact and I barely felt it. I watched it clear a path through the foam, no trace of blood in its wake. I relaxed and resolved to enjoy the rest of the show. Again she worked in silence and it wasn’t until she had me reclined over a basin, rinsing my scalp that she started to chat.

What did I think? Did I like it? Had I really meant to shave it? Did I hate her?

I could only tell her that it was too early to draw a conclusion, but it was done and there was no going back.

She led me back to the styling station and made sure that my scalp was dry with the gentlest patting action of the towel. She moved away to dispose of the towel and then she was in that cupboard again. She put an end to my curiosity when she clasped my head in her hands and moved them around as if she were polishing a bowling ball. Which in a way she was. Her hands left an oily sheen in their wake.

‘I can’t believe you’re polishing it’ I said, amused.

‘It’ll look much better with a little shine. It’ll help protect your skin too’ she said, before standing back, her work done. I stared at myself in the mirror, sleek, glistening. She’d done a really good job. If my intention had been to be hairless, she’d achieved that. I touched it. It was strange, there was nothing there, just skin, smooth, sleek, wonderful skin. I understood what the attraction must be for Jordi. He could caress just about any woman in the dark and there’d be little to tell between them. He’d certainly be able to identify Amy in the dark now, and the same for me, if I were to let him, which I really didn’t intend to. I’d find my own bald-woman appreciator.

Her buffing complete, she stood back with a flourish, her hands poised in the practised way of someone who is used to demonstrating their work. I looked at my reflection, from one side to the other.

‘I don’t know what to say’ I said, picking up a strand of my former hair that was clinging to the gown. I discarded it as if it was nothing to do with me. Which it wasn’t anymore.

‘You don’t have to say anything. Take your time, get used to it. It’s a big change, a strong look, but it suits you.’

‘I hope you’re right’ I replied, grateful for the release from the grip of the gown around my neck. I stayed put while she brushed off my shoulders and then that was it. I was a bald woman. Now what? I saw her looking at me.

‘Sorry, I’m a bit stunned’ I said, getting to my feet. She smiled, which I think was an attempt to reassure me. Trust me to stumble on someone who would relish the idea of shaving another woman’s head and who wouldn’t exert themselves to talk the person out of it.

I was still putting my change back into my purse when I exited the salon and emerged into the world where women had hair. All of them except me, that is. The first one I encountered was a young woman with a little girl. A little girl who stopped to point at the funny lady with no hair.

Thanks for that, little girl. I hurried to the corner, so that I would be out of her sight, but only succeeded in encountering a couple of guys getting some tools out of a van. Both of them stared. One of them whistled and the other uttered a phrase that I took to mean that he would like to make my acquaintance. The only word that I understood was “mama”. Maybe he wanted to take me home to meet his mother? No, the hand gesture suggested that he had other plans. I stopped, which surprised them. I looked through the open doorway of the building that they were working at.

A building site. I looked back at them. They weren’t sure what was going on. Neither was I. I started to walk again, telling myself that at least I could rely on builders to show an interest until my hair grew back.

I made it to the car and got in, grateful that it wasn’t too hot yet.

I looked in the rear-view mirror, stared at the bald headed woman who appeared there. I watched her put both hands to her head, felt them running over the slick, hairless surface. There was something about the sensation that I liked very much indeed, although not in a way that would be obvious to many people. A few seconds later, I told myself that sitting in a car park with my hand between my legs was probably not going to end well, so I started the engine and headed for Amy’s villa.

When I pulled up outside, there were two motorbikes standing there. One I knew belonged to Jordi, but he had obviously brought company. I’d hoped that it would just be Amy and I, so that I’d have the chance for an honest assessment of what I looked like. I didn’t particularly want to walk in on her in some porn permutation with a couple of local youths. I wanted to get inside, but toyed with the idea of going for a drive until the coast was clear. I told myself not to be so stupid and gripped the door handle. I steeled myself and then was out of the car, trying to stride confidently to the front door. Quite why, I wasn’t sure. I opened the door and paused, listening for voices. There was silence, which meant that they must be out in the garden.

I looked at myself in the hall mirror, not sure whether I was expecting to see that my hair had re-grown on the drive home. I was still bald, I was still shiny. I liked myself more than I had when I left the salon. I trailed my fingertips across my scalp. I may not have been sure about how I looked, but I loved the way that I felt. I’d created another erogenous zone for myself, nothing as old-hat as an ear-lobe or a nipple. This was one that not many people got to enjoy. I was starting to understand Jordi’s peculiar interest. I moved to the kitchen warily, still unsure about “first contact”.

I could see them, moulded to sun-loungers, surprisingly innocent looking. Amy even had her bikini bottoms on. I looked at Jordi, his youthful body lean and tanned. My eyes wandered to the new-comer, his modest shorts still wet from the pool. He wasn’t unlike Jordi, slightly more muscular maybe, definitely sporty looking. He was lying on his side, his face breaking into a smile at something that Jordi had just said. I looked at Amy, relaxed, comfortable, topless, in the company of two young men. How wrong I would have thought this whole scene was,

just a couple of days ago.

I went to the fridge and took a swig of wine straight from the half-drunk bottle that I knew would be there. Not something that I was accustomed to doing. I took a deep breath and went to take my place in the picture of bliss in the yard.

‘I’m back’ I announced.

‘Hi you. Where did you go?’ Amy asked without turning round. Jordi and his friend paid a little more attention to me.

‘Just popped into town’ I said, a finger to my lips in a bid to keep the lads from giving the game away.

‘Get what you wanted?’ she asked, her eyes still skyward, shielded by sunglasses.

‘I think so’ I replied. I was at the “head end” of her lounger and crouched down, running my hand across her shorn head.

‘You like it like this, don’t you? I’ll make you an appointment if you get my phone’ she offered. I looked across at the young men, trying to work out whether there was any room in their lustful gazes for anything else.

‘I couldn’t have my hair like that’ I replied.

‘Suit yourself’ she replied.

‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friend?’ I asked, smiling at him. I suspected that he had a decent understanding of English as a broad grin spread over his face.

‘Seen something you like, then?’ she said as she sat up. She looked across at him first of all, then her casual glance towards me became a gaze.

‘Holy shit Mary, look at you’ she said, her expression becoming a mixture of surprise and vindication. She reached up to touch my head, searching for confirmation that her boring, conventional friend wasn’t boring and conventional anymore.

‘What made you do it? Tell me’ she urged, struggling to contain her excitement.

‘Maybe I decided that you were right about relaxing while I’m here’ I replied. She hugged me, which was a weird feeling, given that she was only wearing the bottom half of her bikini and she was doing it while being watched intently by two young men. She broke the embrace to take a step back to look at me.

‘Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?’ I said with a smile.

‘Not when you’re faced with what I’m looking at. You’re beautiful’ she said. ‘Isn’t she, boys?’ she added, bringing in the two less-than-casual observers. In true teenage fashion, they had little to say for themselves, but their appreciation was clear.

‘Have a seat’ she urged, reaching for a spare lounger.

‘Later maybe. There’s something I need to do first’ I replied.

‘Mary the spoilsport’s back, I see’ she frowned.

‘I won’t be long, but I was wondering if I could borrow that young man over there. I’ll bring him back, I promise’ I said, astounding myself that I could utter the words and astounding myself that I was even allowing myself to stray from behaviour that I’d spent a lifetime perfecting.

She stared at me for a second. ‘As long as you bring him back empty’ she said with a wry smile.
here was a quick exchange between her and the newcomer and then an exchange between him and Jordi.

‘Jordi’s not pleased’ Amy explained.

‘Jordi’s yours’ I replied.

‘I’m happy to share’ Amy replied.

‘One step at a time’ I said, extending a hand towards the nameless young man.

‘I haven’t introduced you yet’ she said quickly.

‘Don’t’ I replied. There was something especially delicious about what I was about to do when I didn’t even know his name. He took hold of my hand and allowed himself to be led back into the villa. It was only a few steps, but I had time to wonder about what I was doing, whether I should be doing it at all, but then reminded myself that I’d just shaved my head and was only too aware how horny that had made me feel. I led my prize into the kitchen and then onwards into my room. I was way out of my comfort zone just by holding the guy’s hand and contemplating what I was contemplating, and I couldn’t think of doing it anywhere where I might be seen. It was fine for Amy to throw caution to the wind and to put on a public display, but I was trailing her by a long way.

My new friend allowed himself to be led and graciously closed the door after himself. This was what you could call the point of no return. Or nearly. I looked at him. He looked at me. I could see a degree of hesitation. He was wondering what the mad, bald lady had in mind. The mad, bald lady was backed against the bed and tried to allay his fears by hiking up her skirt and drawing down her knickers slowly while watching his reaction. Restrained, disinterested? I wasn’t sure. Not the reaction that I’d hoped for anyway. I was starting to think that I’d made a mistake.

It suddenly dawned on me that he just didn’t share Jordi’s taste for bald women. Bizarrely, I thought about those hairless cats that you see. Prized by some, detested by others. Was that how he saw me?

He looked at me and then spoke. ‘Turn’ he said simply, reinforcing the instruction with a circular motion of his index finger. I returned his gaze and did as he asked. This was so far away from any encounter that I’d ever had with a man, it just wasn’t true. No getting to know you, no flirting, no sexual tension. We were just using each other and I was just as guilty as him. I faced away from him and then responded to the flat of his hand on my shoulders. I braced myself on the bed, bent from the waist, arms locked. A hand went up my thigh, taking the hem of my dress with it. My head was down, so I could look behind me and see his swimming shorts working their way down his muscular thighs. At great risk of a neck injury I strained to see what was in store for me. I wasn’t going to be disappointed by the looks of it. I couldn’t get over the sight of my first completely-shaven man. It was very different  to what I’d ever encountered at close quarters before and very interesting indeed!

The curious fingers were anticipated, unlike the folding of his body over mine as he reached for my head with his other hand. He seemed more intent on stroking my bald head than doing what I’d brought him in for. He was stroking my head with the lightest touch of his fingertips when I was braced for the onslaught of raw teenage energy. I felt him nudging my lips with his tip and I held my breath as he slid tantalisingly home.

Both of his hands were now on my head, holding it securely before stroking it. This was his focus for what seemed like ages, with him plugging me, but doing nothing else. I’d expected him to be grabbing for my boobs, pumping away furiously before a sudden finish. I clearly had a lot to learn! Here I was, all previous moral standards abandoned, being caressed in the most delightful way. Having a young man’s cock inside me was almost an afterthought, the icing on the cake. This was about sensations, about the tables being turned. Tommy was teaching the Acid Queen!

I closed my eyes and just let the tingling in my scalp merge with the anticipation between my legs. I don’t know how long we were like that before he took his hands away from my head and eased my dress off me. Still there was no sense of urgency from him. Even though I wasn’t supporting his weight, I was starting to wonder how to tell him that my ageing arms could only hold that position for so long when he peeled himself off me and stood up straight. I felt hands on my haunches and then a slow rhythm began. It was a relief to feel it at last and even more of a relief when the restrained youth interested in my shaven head became the youth that I expected. He lulled me into a gentle rhythm and then took the brakes off. He caught me unawares, however much I had been wanting it. My arms nearly buckled with the surprise, but I recovered quickly and managed to restore the anchor points as youthful balls slapped against gently-matured pussy. I dipped my head to take in the sight of those shaven balls swinging freely as he slammed them against me time and again with no consideration for their welfare. This was worth losing my hair for! I felt the almost-forgotten sensation well up inside me and heard myself gasping and swearing and cumming moments before I felt him pull out. At that moment, I probably wouldn’t have cared if he’d filled me up with babies, but I knew that I’d be grateful for his greater self-control before long.

With a little tug of the arm, I found myself in a new position, on my knees, at his feet, the soon-to-be recipient of the porn-film favourite, all over my bare scalp. I looked up at him, taking in the sight of his still-hard cock on the way. His hand was on my scalp again, massaging his warm cum into my skin. He smiled and touched a damp finger to my lips before picking up his shorts and leaving my room without a backward glance.

Did that really just happen? The cum sliding down my face said that it did.

I got to my feet and headed for the shower, knowing that I could never look down on Amy again. She had more hair than me, just, but in other respects, I had just joined her. I let the water cascade over me, revelling in the sensation of the jet beating against my bare scalp. I instinctively reached for the shampoo and used it, even though there was nothing for it to work its magic on. My hair wasn’t going to shine, it wasn’t going to benefit from all the nutrients that were supposed to be in it. I was bald. Id shaved my head, I’d bent over for a man young enough to be my son. I was happier than I could remember.

I dried myself off, staring almost obsessively at myself in the mirror. I just didn’t look like me anymore. I looked so different, felt so different. I dug in a drawer for my swimsuit, but found myself taking out a bikini instead. I may be the wrong sdie of forty, but I still looked pretty good in one! I put the top back where it had been and stepped into the bottoms. It was time to embrace my new existence, however long it was to last. I turned to the full-length mirror and looked at myself, telling myself that I really was about to emerge from my room bare-breasted, radiant from a shower and a most-novel fuck. I was bald, I was topless and alone, as I discovered when I went into the corridor. I looked for the other three, but there was no evidence of them. I visited the fridge again and went outside to reflect on what had happened.

I settled under a parasol, conscious of the vulnerability of my newly-revealed scalp. I don’t know how long I dozed for, but I was eventually roused by Amy’s return. I shielded my eyes as I reached up to take the glass of wine that she’d brought me. The wine wasn’t of much interest to me once I saw that her pelt of dark hair was no more.

‘Ta da’ she said, with a flourish.

‘So much for not doing what Jordi wanted’ I said.

‘This is for me, not him’ she replied. ‘Once I’d seen you, I just had to do it. Anyway, your nameless friend has made Jordi very jealous, so I hope you enjoyed it.’

‘I’m not sure. I might have to have another go to make sure’ I replied.

‘Just say when. He liked you very much.’

‘Dare I ask? I asked cryptically.

‘Whether he and I have…you mean?’

I nodded.

‘Not yet’ she said. ‘But I wouldn’t rule it out. They were thinking that we might like to go out to dinner’ she said with a wink and a tweak of my nipple.

In the shock of seeing her bald, I’d forgotten that I was topless in front of her for the first time. I looked at her wicked smile and decided that it really didn’t matter. She angled her head jauntily. ‘We’ll have those off you before the evening’s out’ she said, with a nod towards my bikini bottoms.

We’ll see’ I replied, taking a sip of wine and another look at her gorgeously bald head.

After what had happened so far today, nothing would surprise me.

‘I’m going for a shower’ she said and turned towards the villa.

I reclined on the lounger, wondering just how far I’d let myself go.

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