Double Cream


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‘What are you looking at that for?’ I asked.

‘I just wanted to see what it was. Seems an odd thing for someone to post’ Ian replied.

It was a curious answer. I had looked at his screen a couple of times as I had walked past, a good few minutes apart, and each time he had been looking at videos of people in barbershops. It was weird. Why was he watching guys getting their hair cut? Why did he answer the way that he had, not entirely truthfully?

I let it go. For the time being. There were plenty worse things that he could have been looking at, but then I could rationalise him looking at porn, whereas I struggled to justify him watching men getting their hair cut. I knew that if I waited, he would go to the pub with his mates, leaving me to get closer to the truth.

Right enough, when he went out, I had a word with every girl’s best friend, a guy’s browser history. Why do they think that women are too stupid to look there? It wasn’t something that I did often, once in a while, just to satisfy myself that he was behaving himself, but there was rarely anything there that wasn’t pretty tame and that he wouldn’t find in a lad’s mag if he wasn’t too mean to buy one. He was thirty years old, a good-looking chap, so I knew that he didn’t have to resort to looking at images online to get his jollies if he wasn’t satisfied with what I provided. I’m a couple of years younger than him, so hopefully still young enough, slim enough and dirty enough to hold his interest. I try anyway.

So, I found myself looking at his browser history. In amongst news sites, football sites and other harmless stuff, were loads of links that turned out to be men getting their hair cut. The same as the ones that I had caught him looking at. I tried to determine a pattern, so that I could see what it was about the videos that interested him. There was no common thread in the ages of the guys in the chair, they varied between teenagers and middle-aged men. All of them featured a woman doing the cutting, which was a source of relief. And all of them featured hair clippers. Some were crewcuts, but most showed the guy in the chair getting their head completely shaved. I looked at the women again. There was the occasional one who was a bit “homely” looking, if I was to be charitable, but most of them were attractive. The odd one wore a bikini in someone’s house, but most were salon surroundings.

When I had seen enough, I put his laptop back where I had found it and went to get a glass of wine to help me process the information that I had gleaned. Despite a second glass, I didn’t come to a firm conclusion. Either he liked the look of the women or he liked the haircuts, it had to be one or the other. I wasn’t sure which gave me most cause for concern.

Ian’s hair was normal “man hair”. He didn’t do a lot with it, he got it cut when I told him he was looking untidy, but then it was only to return it to the same state that it had been in for the entire eighteen months that I had known him. It was unremarkable mousey brown, it was just over his collar, he combed it if he was going to work or going out, otherwise he left it as it was. As I said, “man hair”. He’d never shown any sign of wanting to do anything else, and I’d never suggested that he should. Was he sitting there wanting to do something else with it? I don’t think that I would have any objection if he wanted to cut it shorter. I might struggle with him doing something as drastic as was in those videos, but I would get used to it, I’m sure. Maybe it wasn’t that. Maybe it was the women doing the cutting that he was interested in, but then why ogle women in working situations like that when with a couple of clicks he could get naked women doing anything and everything imaginable. I knew, because I looked from time to time, just out of curiosity of course, if he was away on business or at a stag do or something. A girl never knew what she might learn, although some of the things I had seen I couldn’t imagine myself doing if I lived to be a hundred. Come to think of it, some of the women I had seen probably weren’t far off that sort of age!

I flicked my hair back, suddenly thinking that it would have made more sense if he was looking at women getting their hair cut, rather than guys. But then, he’d never suggested that I do anything different with my hair either. It was mousey, down to my bra-strap, straight, ordinary. Maybe I should do something about it, regardless of what he was looking at. Maybe I’d look sexy with shorter hair? Although thinking back to the videos that I’d seen during my own research, most of the women had long hair that would flail about while they were getting whatever it was they were getting. Next time I got up, I stood in front of the mirror, with my hair pulled back off my face. I looked okay without a frame of long hair, but it was nice to be able to have the choice of long or tied back. There was always something sexy about releasing hair from a ponytail or a bun or something. How many times had that been used in movies over the years, and by that I mean respectable movies, not ones that have been filmed on someone’s phone.

Ian came back late from the pub. He smelt of beer and kebabs in that way that he thinks makes him irresistible. If only he knew how close he was to becoming history every time he came home like that. It was my mission in life to wean him off such nights. He stayed drunk and my legs stayed closed. In the morning, he had no memory of coming home.

I let a couple of weeks go by without mentioning anything about my sleuthing, but we were in town on a Saturday and I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. While we were having lunch in our usual little pub, I brought up the subject of his hair.

‘You’re getting a bit shaggy aren’t you?’ I said as he put his knife and fork down.

He looked at me and shrugged.

‘Shouldn’t you do something about it while we’re here?’

‘In the pub?’ he said, being a dick.

‘You know what I mean’ I replied, pulling a face at him.

‘I was going to go next week’ he said, returning to civility.

‘It was just a thought’ I replied, returning my attention to my plate to finish what was a particularly pleasant piece of fish.

We paid and left, heading back into the alley that led to the main street. He walked ahead of me, which was another thing about him that annoyed me more than it should. As we emerged from the confines of the alley I took his hand.

‘You know, it is pretty long’ I said.

‘So you said.’

‘Let’s find somewhere and get you tidied up’ I said.

‘What’s with my hair all of a sudden?’

‘It isn’t all of a sudden. You look untidy. I don’t want you to look untidy, that’s all’ I replied, conscious that things had got a bit tense.

‘It’s Saturday, everywhere’ll be busy’ he replied.

‘Okay. If we see somewhere that isn’t busy, will you go in?’

He looked at me.

‘For me?’ I said, hoping that I didn’t sound like I was pleading.

‘If we do, but we won’t’ he replied and started to walk. I looked at him and then hurried to catch him up. He started looking in the windows of shops that he wouldn’t normally look in and shops that I didn’t think would hold any interest for him. He had only just bought a new phone, so why did he feel the need to look in every phone shop? I went on ahead and stopped eventually so that he could catch me up. When he did, I looked pointedly at the shop that I had stopped in front of.

‘Hairdresser’s. Not busy’ I informed him.

‘It’s a girly shop’ he replied.

‘It’s a man shop too, look’ I said, pointing to the word “unisex” as if he hadn’t seen it.

‘I’d rather go to my usual place’ he replied.

‘Can you stop being a pain in the arse for one minute?’ I said tetchily.

He looked slightly shocked. ‘Sorry’ he said, in that way of his that meant he wasn’t sorry in the slightest.

‘I would like you to get your hair cut. Will you do that for me?’ I said slowly, trying to sound calm and reasonable. When I had originally thought about asking him, tension hadn’t featured in the conversation.

‘If it means that much to you’ he replied.

‘Thank you’ I said. I made a move towards the door, my eyes fixed on him as he stayed rooted to the spot. I frowned at him. He moved.

I opened the door and went in.

‘Hi’ the receptionist said.

‘Hello’ I replied.

‘What can we do for you?’ she asked as Ian finally made it into the shop and closed the door.

‘My boyfriend wants his head shaved’ I said. You could have heard a pin drop. Both of them looked at me.

‘Okay, I want my boyfriend’s head shaved’ I said. All eyes were still on me. ‘I think you’d look cute. Much tidier than you do now’ I said to him. I turned back to the receptionist who looked a little uncomfortable.

‘I’m sure she doesn’t mean it. Let’s take you through and we’ll see what you really want’ the stylist said. Ian looked daggers at me. It was a look that said “WTF”.

‘I’ll make it worth your while’ I said with a wink. His expression was unchanged and I could see the stylist looking back from the salon area to make sure that he was following. He wasn’t.

‘I’ll get what I usually get’ he said.

‘That’s not going to get you my special appreciation’ I replied coyly.

‘What’s that?’ he asked, apparently wondering what I had held back from him or what I had learned from someone else.

‘Only one way to find out’ I replied.

‘You want it shorter. Fine’ he said.

‘I’ve told you what I want’ I said and decided to leave it there. He either took the hint or didn’t. I wondered whether he was making the connection between the videos he had been looking at and what I was asking him to do. I urged him to hurry up with a nod of my head and a scowl. I took a seat and picked up a magazine.

A couple of minutes later, my quick-onset boredom was interrupted.

‘He wants you to come in’ the stylist said from the doorway, still looking mildly uncomfortable. I beckoned her over.

‘I’m sorry, I hope this isn’t awkward for you. It’s a little thing that I wanted to do. I couldn’t tell him, because it would take the fun out of it, if you know what I mean’ I said.

‘He’s not too keen’ she replied.

‘He’ll be fine. He knows it’ll be worth his while’ I said, wondering if it was too much information.

‘From the look on his face, you’re going to have a lot of making up to do’ she said with a knowing smile.

‘I’ll take him straight home’ I replied with a wink. She smiled again and seemed to relax.

I followed her into the salon where Ian was sitting patiently, wearing a fetching pink gown. Maybe that was why he didn’t like “girly” hairdressers?

‘I thought you’d forgotten me’ he said.

‘How could I do that?’ I replied, putting a hand on his shoulder.

‘We need to agree what we’re doing’ the stylist said.

‘What do you want to do?’ I asked Ian.

‘The usual’ he replied.

‘Okay, wrong answer’ I replied.

‘Shorter’ he replied.

‘Short’ I confirmed.

‘Okay, short’ he agreed.

‘Good, that’s a start’ I replied.

‘Not for me it isn’t’ the stylist said.

‘Is it the “shaved” part that’s scaring you?’ I asked, trying to sound concerned.

‘You think?’ he replied.

‘How about we go short and then think about the “shaved” bit?’ I said.

He went quiet.

‘The lady’s waiting’ I cajoled.

‘I don’t know what you really want’ he said, sounding exasperated.

‘I want you stubbly or smooth, but the lady’s not going to do it if she thinks you don’t want to do it, so I’m going back out to my magazine and you can come out when you’re ready. How does that sound?’ I said, looking at Ian via the mirror and then directly at the stylist. ‘Whatever he wants’ I added and went back to the reception area.

I really wanted to watch whatever it was, but the circumstances weren’t what I had hoped for. We could call the whole thing off, but then the element of surprise that I was actually finding a bit of a turn-on would be lost. I settled for the next best thing and picked up the same magazine as before. I tried to convince myself that I should be feeling mean, but it didn’t work. I was being charitable, just getting him to do what he had thought about doing, but not actually managed to do for himself. For the first time, I noticed that there was a radio playing at low volume, which had the effect of dampening down any sounds that could have escaped the salon. I was alone, just me and afternoon radio, while Ian was having who knows what done to him by a strange woman. How exciting!

The stylist appeared again after a few minutes and smiled as I looked up. She perched on the edge of the seat next to me. She had the air of a surgeon just coming out of an operating theatre to inform the relatives how things had gone.

‘He asked for a number four, but I talked him down to a three. Does that sound like what you’re after?’ she asked, conspiratorially. I didn’t have any real concept of what she was talking about, but nodded as if I did.

‘Could you go over it with a two, without him noticing?’ I asked, deciding that there must be a natural progression with these numbers and that a “two” was logically less than a “three”.

‘Shouldn’t you ask him first?’

‘Probably, but he’d be more receptive if you told him he’d look hot if he went shorter. You know what they’re like’ I said, in that woman-to-woman way.

‘Do you really want him bald?’ she asked, surprising me.

‘I thought it’d be fun’ I replied, before realising that my reasoning was superficial at best.

‘Fun for you, a bit of a shock for him’ she replied, raising an eyebrow.

‘Probably’ I replied. ‘I’ll make it worth his while’ I said again, not sure that she wanted to know.

She thought for a moment.

‘Tell you what. I’ll get him down to a two. If he wants to go further, I’ll need a note from his mother’ she said with a smile and a pat on my knee.

‘Thank you’ I said. Maybe we had made a bit of a connection after all. I watched her walk away, hoping that she’d let Ian have a peek at her rather shapely backside as a way to take his mind off what the two of us were doing to him. I put the magazine down and made myself comfortable, looking at the archway that led to the salon and hopefully to my evening’s entertainment.

It seemed an eternity, but it was probably less than five minutes before the stylist re-appeared, with Ian in her wake.

‘I’ll let you have him back. There’s not as much of him as there was when he went in’ she said, with a smile.

I waited until I had seen him before saying anything. I looked at him. He looked at me. I didn’t know if she had achieved her aim of getting him to a number two, but even someone as ignorant of the niceties of male grooming as me could tell that Ian’s hair was fiendishly short. Was I pleased? I think the polite word for what I felt would be “moist”. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that his hair was so short or the fact that I had been the one to instigate it that I found so exciting, but at the end of the day, who cares where the tingles come from as long as they’re there!

‘Hello, handsome’ I said to Ian.

‘Thank you for putting up with us’ I said to the stylist. I had got some money out while I was waiting for them, so I was able to hand her the money without fiddling about with my bag.

‘That’s too much’ she said.

‘Not at all, it’s worth every penny’ I said.

‘I could do yours as well for what you’ve given me here’ she said. It appeared to be a casual, off-the-cuff remark and nothing more.

‘I think I just want to get him home’ I replied, struggling to take my eyes off him. He looked so different without his floppy hair. He looked vulnerable in a way.

‘You should’ he said, rubbing a hand over his sand-papery scalp.

‘So you want revenge, is that it?’ I asked. Had he been thinking along those lines or had the stylist planted the seed?

‘No’ he replied, finally realising that he really didn’t have any hair worth mentioning anymore. I looked at him and waited. ‘You wanted me with short hair, maybe I want you with short hair’ he replied. I was only too conscious of the stylist standing right by us.

‘Let’s get you home. We’ll talk about it there’ I replied.

‘The same sort of in-depth discussion that we had about mine?’ he said. Maybe he hadn’t taken it that well after all.

‘You like it, I can tell’ I said, suspecting that if I made a grab for him now, there would be evidence of more than a passing interest in what had just happened to him. The only thing stopping me was the stylist standing there.

‘I think we’re stopping this lady from closing up’ I observed, remembering that it was Saturday and they probably closed early. We’d spent too long over lunch.

‘You’re okay for a while, if you want to get yours cut’ the stylist said helpfully.

‘You really want me to cut my hair?’ I asked him. This was getting serious.

‘Why not?’ he responded.

‘There isn’t really an answer to that’ I replied. All eyes were on me again.

‘Okay. Let’s say I was going to cut it, what would you want me to have?’ I asked. I really had no idea what Ian wanted. He had never objected to me just having long hair, without having it styled as such. He’d never suggested that I should cut it or colour it or do anything other than leave it to its peaceful co-existence. Now he was telling me that he did actually want something different.

‘You could have that’ he said, pointing to one of the large framed pictures on the wall.

‘You think so?’ I replied, looking at the image of the woman with the cropped blonde hair.

‘To start with. We could go from there’ he said. I could see the stylist starting to smile at our exchange.

‘It’s probably best if the two of you talk about this over dinner or something. It’s a big decision’ she advised.

‘So was this, but that didn’t stop the two of you, did it?’ he said with a wry smile.

‘You loved having it done, I bet’ I replied.

‘So will you’ he replied.

Silence.

‘You don’t think I will, do you?’ I challenged, not thinking that I would, either.

‘Are you waiting for me to double dare you or what?’ he replied.

I turned to the stylist.

‘Looks like you’ve got another customer’ I said.

‘Looks like it’ she replied.

I turned to Ian.

‘If you want this to happen, you need to go somewhere else’ I told him.

‘Where?’ he asked.

‘Anywhere but here. I’ll ring you when I’m done’ I said.

‘Okay’ he replied quicker than I would have thought possible. Where would he go? Saturday afternoon? Pub? Pub with football on the TV? More than likely.

‘Thanks’ he said to the stylist and headed for the door. The stylist followed him and turned the lock, flicking over a sign to tell the world that the shop was now closed.

‘I hope you don’t mind. There’s only ten minutes until closing, so I’m not going to take anyone else anyway’ she explained.

‘Not at all, I just don’t want to keep you back on a Saturday evening’ I said.

‘I’m not doing anything until later, so there’s no hurry’ she said. ‘I’m Dawn, by the way.’

‘Izzy’ I returned.

‘Well Izzy, that made for a more interesting afternoon than it could’ve been’ she said, sitting in one of the seats in reception. I sat opposite her.

‘I’m sorry if we messed you about’ I said.

‘Not at all, it’s the most fun I’ve had at work for a good while’ she replied. ‘I suspect there’s more to it than meets the eye.’

‘Just a bit’ I replied. I explained to her about seeing Ian looking at videos of men getting their heads shaved, glossing over the bit about my detective work with his browser history. I could see her nodding.

‘So, you think he really wanted to do it, but didn’t want to, if that makes sense’ she said.

‘I think so. I think that he wanted to do it for the experience, but didn’t want to have to go to work without hair.’

‘Bit difficult really’ she smiled.

‘Yeah, so you probably thought it was weird or cruel or something, but I think that I was just giving him my blessing to do it. He just wanted to try to pass it off as all my doing. I don’t think it was at all. He’ll thank me later.’

‘I suspect he’ll thank you a bit more if you go home looking like that picture’ she said.

‘Do you think that’d suit me?’ I asked, unsure.

‘Probably not that style. We’ll find something that suits your features better than that’ she said.

‘But do you think I’ll look alright with short hair?’ I asked.

‘If you don’t mind me saying, the way you’ve got it at the moment does nothing for you. You might not know it, but your boyfriend has a better eye for these things than you give him credit for.’

‘So why hasn’t he said anything before?’

‘Why hasn’t he shaved his head before?’ she countered.

‘Very true’ I agreed.

I sat there self-consciously while she assessed me. When she was done, she nodded gently.

‘What?’ I asked with a nervous smile.

‘I was just wondering how brave you are.’

‘I’m still here’ I replied.

‘I’m wondering how brave your boyfriend is too’ she said.

‘Why does he need to be brave?’

‘Do you think he could cope with a girlfriend who’s cut all her hair off?’

‘When you say “all”, how much is “all”?’ I asked.

‘I think we should take you as short as we can.’

‘Shorter than that picture?’

She nodded sagely.

‘That’s short’ I observed.

‘Not as short as I think you should go’ she replied.

‘So what are we talking? A couple of inches all over?’ I asked.

‘At the moment, I’m thinking a really feminine clipper cut, with a few wispy bits to make it interesting.’

‘As in the sort of length that Ian’s is?’

‘Why not? It’s a big change for him, you could see that he’s uncertain about it. If you go short, it’ll be a big change for you, so why not go super-short, so you can both experience the same thing?’

‘I don’t know what to say’ I replied. The obvious reaction would be to reach up and run my fingers through my threatened hair. I did precisely that. I couldn’t imagine myself without the cascade that I had had for so long, even if it was a sort of featureless cascade, as cascades go.

‘I think you’d find it easier to think if I cut that off for you first, that way you won’t be thinking about what a big change it is’ she offered.

‘I need to think about it’ I said.

‘Stand up a second’ she said. We both stood up, facing each other. She slid her fingers inside my hair, just below my chin. I watched her watching. I saw that she had a pair of scissors in her other hand and felt butterflies.

‘All you have to do is stand still’ she said, her voice soft and soothing.

‘Okay’ I said, agreeing to stand still, but nothing else.

The “okay” travelled the small distance between us and became a command to the scissors in her hand. Those scissors reached up and made a cut about level with my cheek. I was still looking at her as the scissors bit deeper, taking hair from further round the side of my head. They went to the other side and did virtually the same thing, although I’d be amazed if she had been able to make a level cut without a bit more consideration.

‘Let me just do the back and then we’ll talk some more’ she said. I turned round. I could feel her fingers brush me gently as they made their decision. I felt the scissor blades. I felt her sneaking a couple of cuts from my crown, before she asked me to turn around again.

‘I’ve wanted to do that from the moment you walked in’ she said with a smile.

I looked at the pile of my hair that lay on the floor.

‘Looks like I’m going short’ I said nervously. I was aware that the word “moist” was coming to the forefront of my mind again.

‘There’s still plenty of length there, so you’re not committed to anything’ she said. I looked round to see where the nearest mirror was and then made a bee-line for it. I wanted to see what she’d done, wanted to see what I looked like. I knew that Dawn was watching me, waiting for a reaction. I looked at the unfamiliar reflection, looked at the slightly uneven sides. I turned to her.

‘You’ve no idea how happy I am that you did that’ I said.

‘Really? I thought you’d shout or cry or something’ she replied, a look of relief spreading over her face. ‘How about we do the next stage then?’ she offered.

‘Lead the way, I replied’

I followed her through to the salon where Ian’s hair still lay on the floor as a reminder of what I had done to him. I hoped that he was alright, but then remembered that he was probably consoling himself with a pint or two. There was no need to feel sorry for him. I followed Dawn.

I settled into the same chair that Ian had been in, flicking clumps of his hair with my feet while I waited for Dawn to fasten the gown. She stood with her hands on my shoulders.

‘I’m going to take it down with the scissors first, so you’ll have plenty of time to back out, how does that sound?’ she asked.

‘I don’t want to have a crewcut’ I said. She looked at me in the mirror.

‘Just as well you spoke up before it was too late’ she said. ‘I can take you short without using the clippers, if that’s what you’re worried about’ she offered kindly.

‘I’d rather have something else’ I said.

‘It’s probably best if you tell me’ she urged with a smile.

‘What do you think I’d look like with a shaved head?’ I asked.

That took her by surprise..

‘You’re serious? Shaved? All off? You’d look wonderful, but I didn’t dare suggest it for you’ she said.

‘I think that given everything that’s been said today, it’s time for me to be a bit adventurous for a change. If I don’t like it, it’ll grow, the same as Ian’s will. We can both look back and say that we did it, even though we maybe didn’t want to stick with it. Who knows?

She squeezed my shoulders. ‘Good choice’ she said.

The clippers were still hanging from the hook on the side of the styling station. She took them off and switched them on briefly, blowing on the blades to get the last bits of Ian out.

‘We’re really doing this?’ she asked.

‘I think so’ I replied, not entirely sure.

A gentle nudge on the back of my head made me look down. I could see my lap and to the sides I could see Ian’s hair lying on the floor. It was comforting in a way that part of him was there with me while I did it. I was still trying to tell myself that it was the right thing to do, when I felt what could only be the clippers ascend the back of my head. Dawn wasn’t hanging around, I could feel her going up the back of my head time and time again, before she started to make her way forwards, past my ear. She got so far and then went to repeat the steps on the other side.

‘You don’t want me to see, do you?’ I asked, smiling.

‘You’ll see soon enough’ she replied, turning her attention straight back to what she was doing. I sat and watched my reflection carefully, waiting for her to draw back the curtain to reveal the new me.

She paused when she had done the left-hand side. She looked at me in the mirror to make sure that she had got my attention and then positioned the clippers on the curve at the back of my head. I watched as the clippers moved inexorably across the top of my scalp, heading for my forehead. They broke though like an ice-breaker clearing a path. Unwanted mousey hair tumbled forward to begin its long descent to my lap. I was torn between watching it fall and staring at the nothingness that had just been revealed on top of my head. What I was looking at was a long way from the number two that Ian had escaped with. I had wondered whether Dawn would need to take it close first of all and then take it further, but now I had my answer. She didn’t need to do that. In one operation, she had taken me from the ragged standing-up cut that she had done in reception to bald. I was bald, almost. While I took that in, Dawn cleared the rest of the hair curtain by going sideways across my forehead and then working backwards to pick up the remainder.

‘Now can you see?’ Dawn asked.

‘That’s pretty much what I asked for’ I replied, reaching a hand from under the gown to check that the mirror was reflecting the truth. It was.

‘Not quite. You asked for “shaved”, so I’m going to give you “shaved”‘ she said.

‘As in “shaved”?’ I asked.

‘With a razor. Smooth. Nothing left’ she confirmed.

‘Be careful what you ask for, eh?’ I said.

She was going to shave my head. Completely. Why hadn’t I thought that she would do that? Did it really matter? Looking at myself in the mirror, would it actually make a difference? I was bald, even though my fingertips had told me that there was a bit still there. There was little point objecting, so I smiled gracefully and waited for what was to come next. What came was unexpected pleasure. It was lovely to feel Dawn’s fingers on my scalp, their movement lubricated by shaving foam. It was the lightest touch, arousing in the appropriate context and at that moment, arousing in an inappropriate one too. I was sitting in a hairdressing salon getting turned on by a woman who was shaving my head. There’s a sentence that I never thought I would need!

‘I look ridiculous’ I said.

‘It’s a necessary evil. Think of it as the same as getting your hair coloured, there’s nothing elegant about that either. Of the two, I think this is preferable. It’s cleaner, doesn’t smell. I’d much rather do this.’

‘Do you do many headshaves?’

‘Only for men. You’re my first woman’ she replied, surprising me.

‘Same process, I suppose’ I ventured.

‘Same process, different result, if you like. A guy with a shaved head isn’t anything remarkable. You’re going to be remarkable in more ways than one.’

‘Oh?’

‘You’ll be in a very small minority, but you’ll be stunning with it’ she replied.

‘I hope so’ I replied.

‘Nobody could have picked you out of a crowd before, if you don’t mind me saying. Your hair was ordinary, it held you back. Now look at you.’

‘Yeah, look at me, covered in white foam.’

‘Give me a minute and I’ll sort that out for you’ she said.

‘Take your time’ I said, wondering whether I had just given myself away. I closed my eyes to savour it to the full.

Dawn brought me back to the land of decent thoughts by telling me that I needed to go to the basin to get rinsed off. I padded across the room in my Bat-cape, taking a seat at a basin. We went through the usual routine of checking the water temperature, but almost as soon as we had started, it was over. I was deemed free of soapy residue and left with pristine skin that required no more than a gentle rub with a soft towel to finish it off. Dawn didn’t even bother taking me back to the styling station, she freed me from the gown and then I stood up, needing to be told that it looked alright.

‘You’re beautiful’ Dawn said, as if sensing my need for reassurance. That would do. I smiled at her and headed for the nearest mirror.

‘Different’ I said, not quite reaching her “beautiful”.

‘Better. Much better than when you had all of that dragging you down’ she said, pointing to the clumps of my hair spread around the styling chair.

I walked with her to reception and insisted on paying her, despite her protestations that I had already given her enough when I paid for Ian. I left the salon, bald, curious at how the world would see me now. How Ian would see me. Except that I didn’t want him to see me, not just yet anyway. I didn’t want him to see me for the first time in a public place. I wanted it to be somewhere that we could be alone to do what horny people do when they’re alone. I texted him to say that I would take the car and see him later. He would probably be in no fit state to drive, so I was doing him a favour.

I got home and headed straight for the bathroom. It was the only place in the house where we had a decent mirror and decent light. That was something that I kept nagging Ian about, but he never got round to putting up another one where I wanted it. I put my hands to my scalp and stroked skin that I had never properly stroked before. Nobody had. I wanted someone else to do it if the sensations that I was generating by myself were anything to go by. Somebody else doing it would be electrifying. There was nothing else for it. I stripped off and did it again, my eyes on the response from my nipples. They agreed that it was exciting. Looking at them, hard and proud, I told myself that it was good that Ian didn’t have a nut allergy, because the hazelnuts on offer could do some damage. I let a naughty finger roam, knowing what it would find before it even got to where it was headed. It wasn’t disappointed.

I got in the shower and just stood under the jet, marvelling at the difference between the feeling of the water when I had hair and what it felt like now that I didn’t. How long would this sense of wonder last, how long before I stopped making the comparison between my two existences? I had just got out of the shower and started to dry myself when I heard the front door slam. Ian was home. I heard him shout that he was home, just in case I hadn’t heard the door. I shouted that I was in the shower and would be out in a minute. I dried myself and put a robe on. I looked at myself in the mirror, so different from the last time I had stood there in that robe. Although it was early days, I had to agree with Dawn that I did look better without my hair. The hair that I had anyway. When I grew hair again, I resolved not to just let it do what it wanted. It would need to be cut, coloured, exploited, rather than just lurking there, trying not to be noticed.

I had wanted a little more time on my own before Ian appeared, but he was home and there was nothing that I could do about it. I was just about to leave the bathroom, when I had a thought. I grabbed a fresh towel and wrapped it round my head, turban-style. At least I would preserve the mystery for a little while longer. I went in search of Ian.

I found him in the kitchen, raiding the biscuit tin. It was a positive sign. If he was hungry, he hadn’t been to the kebab shop. If he hadn’t been to the kebab shop, he wasn’t drunk. That boded well.

‘Hiya, skinhead’ I said, rubbing a hand over his head.

He made a move to pull the belt on my robe. Another promising sign. I slapped his hand away.

‘What did you get up to then?’

‘Not much. The match was crap, so I only stayed for one, then I had a quick look in the shops before they shut. Then I had the delights of public transport and waiting for a frigging bus.’

‘Poor baby’ I said, making a face at him.

‘What about you, did you get anything done in the end?’ he asked.

‘Just a trim, nothing to get excited about’ I replied, turning away from him as if to go about my business.

‘Aren’t you going to show me?’ he asked.

‘There’s nothing to show’ I replied, choosing my words carefully.

He turned his attention back to the biscuit tin. I put my arms round him from behind and nuzzled his bristly nape.

‘Thank you for doing this. It’s like having a new man’ I said, kissing the back of his head. I reached round to the front of his jeans.

‘Steady on, didn’t we do that at Christmas?’ he objected.

‘Maybe I want to do it again’ I replied, tugging his zip down.

‘Won’t you get your new hairdo all messed up?’ he asked, responding to the presence of my hand.

‘Do you like your hair short?’ I asked him quietly, enjoying the feeling of his growing hardness in my hand. ‘I like it very much’ I added.

‘I’ll get used to it’ he replied, pressing back against me.

‘Did you like just sitting there while we did what we wanted?’ I asked.

‘Not really’ he replied.

‘I think you did’ I said, starting to work on his belt buckle. His jeans started to yield to gravity and headed for the floor. He wriggled to loosen my grasp on him so that he could turn round to face me. His cock came between us.

‘You like something anyway’ I said as he started to loosen the belt on my robe. One of his hands made a grab for my left boob as soon as there was a glimpse of flesh. I inhaled sharply when he squeezed my nipple hard enough to crack it open.

‘I’m not the only one who’s pleased with it’ he observed. I closed my eyes as he rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I loved it when he did that, but at that moment, my nipple seemed harder than it had ever been. He moved his attention to the other side, not wanting anyone to feel left out. I jiggled my shoulders to let my robe slide to the floor and then lifted Ian’s tee shirt up and over his head. He stood there in his socks, I was naked apart from the towel on my head. I took a step back and reached up, my eyes on his. I took hold of one end and eased the towel off.

His reaction wasn’t quite what I had anticipated. He stared at me for a split second while it sank in that the hair he thought would tumble out of the towel had tumbled elsewhere. His expression changed.

‘Quick! Quick!’ he said, looking slightly distressed. My eyes followed his, but by the time I realised what his dilemma was and got to my knees, I was only in time to get a warm facial. I watched his cock convulse, determined to eject every drop of what was troubling it. I leaned in to lick the tip, but most of it was either on my face or my chest. I looked up at him, trying not to convey what I was really thinking.

‘That’s one hell of a trim’ he said.

‘If I’d known you’d like it that much, I’d have done it ages ago’ I replied, getting to my feet. I cupped his balls, allowing him the first opportunity to touch my bald scalp.

‘You’re all sticky’ he said.

‘Whose fault is that’ I replied, trying to touch my face to his, but not quite managing it quickly enough.

‘Sorry. It was a surprise, that’s all.’

‘Do you always shoot your load when you’re surprised?’ I asked.

‘I’m really surprised’ he said.

‘That’s okay then. I’m just going to wash my face and diddle myself unless you can think of some way to make amends’ I said.

‘How about a nice cup of tea?’ he suggested.

‘Let me see. Really wanted a screw, offered a cup of tea. Tough one! I think I’ll pack your bags while I’m up there’ I said, picking up my robe and going upstairs. I stood at the basin cleaning myself off, smiling at what had happened. He’d never done that before. We’d had a few quickies since we’d been together, but he’d always managed a couple of minutes at least. That told me everything I needed to know about how much he had liked today. I went back downstairs with my robe on, but undone. I liked the idea of being exposed just then.

There were two cups of tea sitting on the breakfast bar. Ian was standing by the sink.

‘That was quick. You’re obviously affected the same way as me’ he said. He was still wearing just his socks, a look that I had given up trying to cure him of.

I sat on one of the breakfast bar stools.

‘You’re not off the hook yet’ I said, holding my robe open to give him an unobstructed view of what lay in store. I parted my legs. I saw him smile.

‘What?’

‘I was just thinking’ he said.

‘Steady on.’

‘How am I going to know which way up I am?’

‘I’m not following you’ I replied, knowing that I was about to receive some “Ian wisdom”.

‘If you’re head’s bald and you’re pussy’s bald, I might get confused and not know which way up I am’ he explained.

‘Just tell yourself that the pussy’s the one that’ll show more interest in you’ I replied, stooping to his level.

‘I know! The pussy’s the one with the bigger lips’ he said.

‘Ha! Ha!’ I replied, making a point of closing my legs firmly.

Ian came closer and stroked my head gently, leaning me in to him.

‘Why did you do it?’ he asked.

‘You wanted me to cut my hair. I’d sort of pushed you into getting yours cut off, so I started to think. Once Dawn cut some off, I just wanted it all off. I don’t know if it’s a new beginning or what it is, but you seem to like it, so maybe I’ll keep it like this.’

‘But what about what people’ll say?’ he asked.

‘As long as it makes you hard, I don’t care what anyone says’ I replied.

‘You always make me hard, you know that’ he said, a hand venturing up my thigh.

‘I’m not doing so well now, am I?’ I asked.

‘That’s only because you landed a knockout blow’ he said.

‘You didn’t give me the chance’ I replied.

‘You know what I mean.’

So, we sat and drank tea as civilised couples do. I had Ian’s cock in my hand to check for signs of life, he had a couple of fingers busy inside me. From a starting point like that, there’s only one way that the evening could end up. And it did.

The following morning, Ian reminded me that we were actually due to go to my best friend’s house for drinks and nibbles that afternoon. I had forgotten completely, which meant that we would have to stop on the way to buy some flowers or something. We had a leisurely morning and then got dressed. All the while I was conscious of Ian looking at me. Eventually, I couldn’t resist.

‘If you like it that much, why don’t you do it’ I asked.

He looked at me, as if he didn’t quite understand the concept.

‘Why don’t we both go to Caroline’s with our heads shaved?’ I asked.

‘Because then I’d have to explain why I’m bald’ he replied. I pointed to my own hairless head.

‘You asked for yours, I didn’t’ he replied.

I pointed to my groin and shook my head, a sad expression on my face. He looked like he didn’t understand again.

‘Pussy would like you bald’ I said in that voice that I knew annoyed him. ‘She doesn’t want to see you again until you are.’

‘Really?’ he said. I winked at him.

‘It’s Sunday’ he replied.

‘We’ve got time to buy clippers and do it before we go’ I said practically. I could get a present for Caroline at the same time. By the time we were dressed, the shops were open. We put more effort into buying clippers than choosing a gift for our hostess, but I hoped that she would understand. So it was that I found myself standing over a naked Ian as he sat on a kitchen chair awaiting his fate. We’d taken a few minutes reading the instructions, but it looked straightforward enough.

‘Couldn’t you at least put something sexy on?’ he asked.

‘Is that what you want? Would that make it easier for you?’ I asked.

He nodded.

I dashed upstairs and stripped off my jeans and tee-shirt, replacing them with some fishnet stockings and a suspender belt. When I returned to the kitchen I could see him look at me.

‘What? Never seen a pair of tits before?’ I asked with a smile and a curtsey. I saw him looking lower down.

‘I thought you might like to see pussy show her appreciation’ I replied, trailing a finger down my belly and oh so close to where it mattered. ‘You’ll be able to see her smile and drool and everything’ I added.

He said nothing.

He carried on saying nothing while I removed his sideburn and guided the clippers up and onto the top of his head. I’d made a path of skin. I liked the way that it looked and I liked the way that it had been me that had done it. I was shaving my boyfriend’s head. How sexy was that? Particularly when I was bald myself. I overcame the slight hesitation that I felt during that first cut and warmed to the task, getting more and more confident with each stroke. I could get to like this, I thought. I did wonder though, how many hairdressers have to cope with the distraction of their client’s hand between their legs as they work. I needed to be quick, because I wasn’t going to let Ian start something and not finish it.

I was much better at shaving a head that I expected and in a couple of minutes, what Dawn had left, I’d removed. It was lying on the kitchen floor for Ian to contemplate while I lathered him up. I wanted to do it slowly and sensuously, the way that Dawn had for me, but in the end, I just slapped it on and swished it about, making sure that everything got covered that needed to be covered. I took more care with the razor, but still went as quickly as I thought prudent. I was distracted by the erection that was trying to get my attention. I went through a cycle of a couple of strokes with the razor, a dip in a bowl and then a couple more strokes. I needed a bit more practise, but I managed not to cut him and I ended up happy enough with what I had done. It hadn’t been as efficient as Dawn’s technique, but I got there in the end.

‘Stand up’ I said when I had wiped his head for the last time. He did as he was asked, but then wished he hadn’t when he saw me reach for the clippers again. There weren’t too many places that they would be useful anymore.

‘No, Izzy, please’ he said, hands covering himself up. Apart from a good part of his cock that refused to be hidden away. I gave him my look.

‘We’ve got matching heads, now I want us to match down below. Do you think I do this for my benefit?’ I asked, pointing to my hairless mound that he had been so preoccupied with while I stripped his hair off.

‘Yeah’ he replied.

‘Okay, maybe you’re right’ I replied, the thought of being hairy down there ever again was something that I just couldn’t contemplate, so it was for my benefit really. I’d gone bare “down there” gradually, although I hadn’t had a full bush for years. I’d been a trimmer, whose pubes had followed my taste for ever-smaller bikinis when I went on holiday. I’d stalled at the landing strip stage for a long time until one day I just thought that it would be fun to surprise Ian by presenting myself totally pubeless. It had indeed been a surprise, particularly when I came downstairs freshly shaved and tried to straddle him while he was watching TV. I should have checked to see whether he was holding a glass of beer first, although he did say that he thought beer-flavoured pussy was a winner and that it should have been incorporated in the original design. I made him search long and hard on that occasion to make sure that he had lapped it all up!

‘Move your hands or I’ll cut your dick off’ I commanded, getting back to the task in hand.

He moved his hands, revealing his dense, springy pubes for the last time. I ran the clippers across his lower belly, just above his cock, just to make sure there was no possibility of him chickening out. He had a line of pubes, a line of nothing and then a straggle around the base of his cock. Not an attractive look. I busied myself, concentrating more down there than I had on his head. It was certainly more of a challenge to shave his balls than his head. But so worth it. Why hadn’t I insisted on that ages ago too? I could see him wincing as I negotiated his wrinkles and crannies, but it was in my own interest to be very careful. I went as slowly as I could, but as quickly as I dared, admiring my freshly-unwrapped toy as I went. I liked what I saw, there seemed to be more of it all of a sudden! His concern grew as I picked up the shaving foam and sprayed some on him.

‘I’ll do it’ he said.

‘He’s mine’ I countered. He knew better than to argue with someone holding a razor so close to his best friend. I spread the foam and worked my way around his cock and underneath where the sun doesn’t shine, so that I made him as smooth as I possibly could. I couldn’t wait to see what he felt like where he belonged. I told him to sit down on the chair again and then I did the only thing that I could think of. I swung a stocking-clad leg over him and lowered myself gently onto his cock. I was so wet that he slid in quicker than he ever had before. I sat there impaled, motionless, stroking his shaven head. I squeezed him with my pussy, wishing that we didn’t have to go out, but at the same time, I wanted to show off my bald man and my own bald head.

‘That was for starters’ I said as I clambered off him after a few minutes. We couldn’t delay any more than that. I planted a kiss on his forehead, shuddering at the feel of bare skin on my lips. I really didn’t want to go out, but we’d said that we would, so it was time for a quick shower and then we had to go. At least I didn’t have to worry about doing my hair!

We walked up the drive to Caroline’s house hand in hand, apprehensive at our reception, but excited at the same time. The door opened and I watched as Caroline put a hand to her mouth. Was she trying to stifle a laugh or suppress a scream? She ushered us in, calling Martin to come and see who had arrived.

‘Fuck! There’s escaped convicts in my house! Ring the police!’ he said.

He leant in for his usual hug and sly grope of my arse, before taking a step back and joining Caroline in just staring at us. They took us through and introduced us to another couple, people we’d not met before, but they seemed nice. Surprisingly enough, much of the chat was about us, with Caroline digging out some photos of us together in the days when we had hair. I couldn’t believe that that was as recently as the previous day. So much had happened in a short space of time.

Much of the conversation was dominated by our lack of hair and why we did it and where we did it. I could see that Caroline was intrigued, but then we had known each other for a long time and she had never known me make any move towards wearing my hair differently. Now she was faced with me without any hair at all. The friends seemed a bit put out to be side-lined and drifted away after an hour or so. It was only an informal thing on a Sunday afternoon, so there was nothing wrong with that. We were left as a more comfortable foursome.

‘You must take Martin next time you go’ Caroline said, looking across at her boyfriend. His hair was dirty blonde, reasonably short already, although probably not clipper-length.

‘I like my hair as it is, thank you very much’ he replied. ‘If you like the idea so much, why don’t you go with Izzy?’ he countered.

‘I might just do that’ she said, appearing slightly annoyed. She got up to get some more drinks. I got up to help her, leaving the boys to themselves for a while.

‘Did you mean that about coming with me to get your hair cut?’ I asked, while Caroline was getting more beer out of the fridge. I looked at her long blonde bob, that had been much longer when I first met her. We had been in the same aerobics class and had got on really well right from the start. We met up for drinks and became firm friends, consoling each other when a boyfriend didn’t work out, going out as a foursome when they did. She’d been with Martin for about six months now, so he’d only known her with hair this long.

‘Maybe. We’ll see. I’ll need to get approval from Mr Conventional first’ she replied.

‘You could just go short first of all. The woman who did mine was really sweet, made me feel really at ease. I think that’s why I just went for it.’

‘We’d better get back with the drinks before they start moaning’ she said.

We didn’t stay too late. It was after all, a “work day” the next day, so Ian needed his beauty sleep. As we were saying our goodbyes, I told Caroline to ring me if she wanted to meet up later in the week. I wasn’t sure if she knew what I meant.

Ian and I headed home, to pick up where we left off, which was really why I wanted to get away from Caroline and Martin. I walked into the kitchen and saw everything as we had left it in our rush to get out in time. Ian’s hair was still there like hundreds and thousands on the tiles, a reminder of the way he used to be, but hopefully wouldn’t be again. Not for a long time anyway.

Ian headed for the TV, I went upstairs to break out another pair of fishnets. When I got down, he had just made himself comfortable, only to be jarred from his intended evening’s entertainment by his near-naked girlfriend and her seemingly endless supply of stockings. I stood over him as he undid his jeans and then knelt over him caressing his bald head for the short time it took for him to be worth settling onto. I gasped as I slid down and then sat back so that I could look at him, but still be within touching distance of his scalp. I started to work my magic muscles, watching his expressions develop as I squeezed and relaxed.

I lay in bed later on, thinking about the way that life seemed more interesting without hair. I made a mental note to text Caroline in the morning and drifted off to sleep.

The following morning, I was still bald and still horny, but Ian had left for work. I laid my phone on the table while I got some cereals, but couldn’t restrain myself beyond the first couple of mouthfuls. I composed a text that started a flurry of exchanges.

It turned out that Martin had adopted a “hands-off” approach. “It’s your hair” he’d told Caroline. That took some of the pressure off her, but I had to agree with him, that she should do what she wanted to do. We agreed to meet later so that we could talk without having to worry if Martin or Ian was listening.

‘Hi baldie’ she said when we met outside a coffee shop in town.

‘Hi, soon-to-be baldie’ I replied.

‘I’m not sure I’d go that far’ she replied.

‘Okay, hi, soon-to-be shortie’ I corrected.

‘I’m only in for a coffee and a chat’ she clarified.

We did indeed drink coffee and chat about the previous day, about all manner of things that we hadn’t got round to chatting about at her house. It was fun, just the two of us. All the while we were chatting, I only had one question on my mind. At a suitable pause in the conversation, I picked up my phone and scrolled down my contact list. I knew that she was watching me. I showed her the number that I had selected.

‘Dawn? Who’s Dawn?’ she asked.

‘Your hairdresser, if you want her to be’ I replied.

‘She’s the one who did yours?’

I nodded.

‘Hold on a sec’ she said hastily.

‘I’m not going to dial, don’t worry’ I said. ‘You are’ I added, staring at her, challenging her.

She looked at me.

‘You only want me to do it to keep you company, don’t you?’ she said.

‘I’m happy getting all the attention. If you cut yours, you’ll be taking admirers away from me, so why would I want you to do it?’ She laughed that cute little laugh of hers, which in the right circumstances doubles as her mating call. When I hear that in a bar when she’s single, I know that someone has just got lucky.

‘Just supposing I might be considering it, what do you think I should do?’ she asked.

‘You need to decide what you’d be comfortable doing and just tell Dawn that that is your comfort zone. Then you need to tell her to go beyond that. You need to feel nervous about doing it, but you’ll be so glad that you did.’

‘I was nervous about going this short’ she said, reaching up.

‘You survived, though, didn’t you?’ I replied.

‘Just about. It took a while, but I liked it eventually.’

‘Just try to imagine not having hair around your face. Think how weird that would be, then just tell yourself that you’d get used to it. Simple.’

She looked at me. Then she looked at me again. Then she took the phone off me. Her eyes were fixed on me while the call went through.

‘Oh, hi. I wanted to make an appointment with Dawn, please’ she said. I gave her a big “thumbs up”. She sounded nervous.

‘Oh, hi Dawn. No, I haven’t. A friend recommended me. Actually, you shaved her head for her at the weekend’ she said.

‘God no! I just want a cut’ she said. I knew what the first comment had been in response to.

The call ended amongst a torrent of pleasantness. Caroline said nothing. I fixed her with my inquisitive look, the one that forced her to tell me her innermost secrets.

‘She’s free now’ Caroline said quietly.

I smiled at her and patted the back of her hand. ‘She’s nice, honestly’ I said, gathering up my things.

Caroline walked down the street as if she was walking to her execution. I felt sorry for her and touched her arm to stop her.

‘It’s meant to be something enjoyable. If you don’t think that it’ll be fun for you and Martin, don’t do it’ I told her.

‘There’s so much going through my head. I don’t know what to ask for. I don’t know what I want to do. I’m afraid Martin won’t like it’ she said.

‘You know what the answer to that last one is, don’t you?’ I said.

‘What?’

‘Chuck him and get another one who does like it’ I replied.

She laughed. It was good to see.

We paused outside the salon just long enough for me to give her a comforting squeeze and then we were in reception, where Dawn greeted me like a long-lost friend, not someone that she had only met for the first time a couple of days ago.

‘You still look gorgeous’ she said to me before turning to Caroline.

‘So, young lady, the hard part’s coming through the door, it’s all plain-sailing from here, isn’t it Izzy?’

‘Pretty much’ I said, hoping that Dawn wouldn’t chat too long. I was in luck. Caroline was gowned and in a chair before she’d had time to catch her breath. I hovered, close enough to see the action, but far enough away not to obstruct Dawn.

Dawn combed through Caroline’s hair, primping it, assessing it. She used the comb to lift a tress from Caroline’s crown, holding it to its full length of ten inches or more. It was more impressive than I expected. Somehow, a pair of scissors appeared in Dawn’s hand and she was taking aim. She positioned them three inches or so from Caroline’s scalp and then moved them to two inches and after the briefest pause, to about an inch. Caroline hadn’t actually discussed anything with Dawn, hadn’t set any limits, nothing.

As if reading my mind, Dawn spoke.

‘Maybe it’s about time we found out what you want to do’ she said, taking the scissors away. I was impressed. Caroline hadn’t flinched when Dawn was moving the scissors about. Caroline wasn’t to know that Dawn wouldn’t actually cut, but she sat there stoically, regardless.

I knew precisely what it felt like to have two pairs of eyes looking at you when there are scissors nearby. Caroline didn’t speak.

‘Do you want me to do what I did with Izzy and just cut some off and then we’ll see where we go from there?’ Dawn asked.

‘Why don’t you just go for the clippers’ I said, not quite realising that I had said it aloud. Caroline turned to me.

‘That’s too short’ she replied.

‘I seem to bring you the reluctant and the indecisive’ I said to Dawn with a smile. I felt bad about urging my friend to do something she didn’t really want to do. I mimed drawing a zip across my lips.

‘So what do you want to start with?’ Dawn asked.

Caroline pondered, even though that was all that she seemed to have done since we came in.

‘Maybe you could start with the clippers’ she said pensively. ‘Like a crewcut.’

Dawn and I were stunned. I peered at her deliberately in the mirror. She smiled the sort of smile that was laced with uncertainty.

‘You don’t have to’ I said, my guilt growing. What were we doing?

‘No I want to. You look so good now’ Caroline replied.

‘Thank you’ I replied, a hand on her shoulder.

‘I don’t want Martin to hate me though’ I said.

‘He either likes it or he doesn’t, and it’s my choice, he said so himself’ she replied, her determination starting to crawl out from wherever it had been hiding.

‘So we’re doing this?’ Dawn asked.

‘Yes’ Caroline said at last. I wondered if I would ever dare to tell her how that one word affected me. I was probably more turned-on hearing her say it than I had been when I’d been the one in Dawn’s chair.

Dawn picked the clippers up and looked at me as she fitted a guard. I shook my head. She took the guard off and made a face at me which I took to be her asking me whether I was sure or mad or both. I nodded.

‘It’s not too late’ she said to Caroline, moving closer.

‘I want to’ she said. She was probably giving her consent to a crew cut, but the first stroke of the clippers up the back of her neck revealed a large patch of pristine skin. Dawn paused.

‘You might want to have a feel of that before I do any more’ she said. She might be willing to join in a little game, but she was still principled enough to be professional. I watched Caroline’s tentative hand emerge from the gown and make its way to the back of her neck.

‘Shit’ she said. ‘That’s not what I think of as a crew cut’ she said eyes in the mirror darting from Dawn to me.

‘That was me. Dawn was going to do a crew cut, but I thought you’d like that better’ I said, nodding towards her surprised hand.

Dawn and I were watching and waiting again.

‘You can’t leave me like this’ Caroline said.

‘You’re sure you want me to do that all over?’ Dawn asked.

There was no way that this haircut could be described as impulsive any more. It was deliberate, it was wanted. Dawn moved the clippers across the top of Caroline’s head, signalling that all chances to back out had been used up. My knickers were going to need to be on top of their game to deal with what I was watching.

My friend’s hair tumbled to the floor. Looked at dispassionately, that was where it belonged. A bob like that had made her look older than her years and for a woman in her late twenties, she needed something less soccer-mom and more edgy. She was certainly getting edgy. The soccer-mom was falling away, and a stunning young woman was emerging. I watched the same realisation spread across Caroline’s face, pleased that the hesitation had gone. She had the welcome mat out for her new self.

I watched in silence as the final strands parted company with Caroline’s scalp. She wasn’t smooth yet, but she was bald. I moved into her line of sight and smiled the biggest smile that I could, before realising that she had a satisfied smile of her own.

‘Now for the best bit’ I said as Dawn turned off the clippers. I wasn’t sure if Caroline realised that I had actually been shaved the old-fashioned “man” way and that there was more to come. Me included, if the past few minutes was anything to go by. Dawn broke out the can and fired a squirt at Caroline’s scalp. The initial shock of contact was tempered by Dawn’s fingers moving in to soothe Caroline with her expert fingertip massage. I watched Caroline’s eyes close. Dawn turned to me and smiled without breaking her circling motion. I gave her a “thumbs up” sign, not wanting to spoil the experience for Caroline. I wanted to be in the seat feeling what she was feeling. I had a couple of days’ growth and was really starting to dislike it, so I hoped that Dawn would have time to re-shave me.

I heard Caroline sigh, opening her eyes in surprise. Dawn heard it, I heard it. We all knew what it meant. There could be no higher recommendation for what Dawn was doing than the sound of a turned-on customer. I was sure that she blushed, but she closed her eyes again and settled in to enjoy the rest of the process.

I wondered what it would be like to be the one doing the shaving. I didn’t want to try while Dawn was watching and certainly didn’t want to do anything to down-grade Caroline’s experience from professional to amateur. Maybe we could shave each other at some point. Just not today. It was odd to stand there and be an observer as someone else went through the same experience as me. It was a different perspective, but the same result. The foam was stripped off, line by line, leaving behind complete smoothness and a more attractive woman than had initially sat in the chair.

I decided not to get shaved again, because Caroline clearly wanted to get away and by the looks of her, have a large glass of wine. I assured Dawn that I would be back, but left the salon arm in arm with my freshly-bald friend.

‘I can’t believe I did that’ she said when we got out onto the street.

‘Neither can I, but you look so good’ I replied.

‘I just don’t know what Martin will think’ she said.

‘I told you the solution to that earlier on’ I replied and steered her to a nearby bar. We turned heads when we walked in. I liked to think that it was because we were two attractive women walking into a bar without male accompaniment, but I would have to be honest and say that we had novelty value and that came before the assessment of us as “fair game”. We made it through the first glass of wine before anyone approached us.

‘Could I buy you ladies a drink?’ the man asked. Mid-thirties maybe. Not unattractive. I’d noticed him when we came in, he’d been sitting with a couple of friends in the corner.

‘We’re fine thanks’ I said, putting a hand on Caroline’s thigh.

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise you were…you know…together’ he replied.

I smiled at him.

‘Sorry’ I replied, trying to put on my sad face. He walked away.

‘So I look like a dyke now? Is that it?’ she said.

‘Afraid so’ I replied ‘And you’re all mine’ I added, smiling.

‘You’re awful, you know that?’ she replied.

‘I know. That poor guy. He’s probably dying of embarrassment’ I said.

‘I bet his friends put him up to it, just for a laugh’ Caroline said, draining her glass. She went to the bar to get a refill and when she came back she had a companion. Not unlike the guy who had approached us before, but maybe closer to forty than thirty-five.

‘This is Rick’ Caroline said.

‘Hi Rick’ I said.

I hadn’t seen where he had been sitting, but it was obvious that he had hit it off with Caroline. He seemed nice, chatty for a guy, and didn’t have the same “laddish” air about him that the first guy had. We sat there for twenty minutes or so and I started to feel more and more like I didn’t belong. Eventually I said that I needed to head off. Caroline and I exchanged meaningful glances. Mine said “You’re not?”, hers said “Probably”. My final look said “dirty bitch”. I smiled at her and said goodbye to them both. I wondered if it was “goodbye” for Martin too. Only time would tell.

I went home, intrigued by the turn of events. I hadn’t expect Caroline to shave her head, I hadn’t expected her to get picked up in a bar quite so quickly. I wondered if she just needed the sort of confirmation that she was an attractive woman that could only come from a no-holds-barred fuck with someone you’ve only just met. Rick hadn’t known her with hair, so it was a bald Caroline that attracted him. Unless he had just tried his luck and wasn’t bothered whether she had hair or not, just as long as he got laid. I waited for Ian to come home. I waited for Caroline to call, to tell me all about it.

For some reason I decided not to tell Ian about what Caroline had done. Not straight away, anyway. I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be a surprise for him or just my little secret. However, I did let him share my excitement at what I had seen in a roundabout way. When he walked in the front door, he was greeted with a glass of beer, handed to him by yours truly, wearing the highest, sluttiest heels that I possessed and nothing else. I had spent the time between coming home myself and Ian coming home by shaving my own head for the first time, slowly and carefully, trying for perfection, but not quite getting there. It was still pretty good though and served as proof to myself that I could do it on my own. It was also actual confirmation that I was staying as a baldie.

‘Let me take my coat off, love’ he pleaded, his eyes fixed on my standing there, posed, with a beer in one hand and my middle finger placed suggestively to my partly-open mouth. He took the beer and took a long pull, licking his the froth off his lips.

‘What makes me think there’ll be as much froth down there by the time I’m out of the shower?’ he said, his eyes lingering on my exposed pussy. I moved to one side, so that I was blocking his way. Shower or no shower, he had work to do first. He smiled and reached for the waistband of his trousers. I headed for the kitchen, feeling the need for a quick slurp of wine before the engagement began. I felt hands on my hips, on my belly, squeezing my tits, stroking my freshly shaven scalp. He was kissing me, licking my head, pressing his cock between my arse cheeks and then he pressed my shoulders forward, bending me over the breakfast bar. He slid home, pausing before the metronome started. I closed my eyes and mused on the transformation of our relationship since my curiosity got the better of me and I stumbled into Ian’s fascination. It had cost us both our hair, but the was a small sacrifice for the revival that was currently underway below the waist. Predictability and familiarity had given way to invention and experimentation in a way that neither of us could have foreseen.

My phone rang just as we got to the good bit. It’s always a dilemma. Do you answer it or just let it ring? I know that my ringtone irritates Ian at the best of times, and the groan that he uttered left me in no doubt. I had to answer it, particularly when I saw it was Caroline. I tried to compose myself, but felt a tremble go through me at the prospect of being on the phone to her at such an inopportune time.

‘Nothing much’ I replied, when Caroline asked what I was up to. I wasn’t up to much, but Ian was up to his balls. The steady rhythm was broken by a more forceful thrust, which was Ian’s way of showing his displeasure at my response. I was glad of the rounded edges on the worktop which were saving me from serious discomfort. My answers were monosyllabic, which did nothing to dispel Caroline’s suspicion that I was doing what she thought I was doing. I thought about telling her, but then decided that it was more exciting to leave her wondering.

‘No way’ I replied to her suggestion. She repeated it. I refused again. She insisted that I asked Ian. I turned my head to let him know as best I could that I was talking to him. I could see a quizzical look on his face, vying with his annoyed look.

‘Caroline wants me to put her on speakerphone. Says she’s got something to tell you’ I said.

He looked annoyed, his expression trying to convey something along the lines of “tell her I’m busy.”

I placed the phone flat on the counter and hit the button.

‘Talk’ I said, burying my head in my folded forearms. Was I about to regret a quick thrill for a very long time?

‘Hi Ian. I won’t keep you’ Caroline said, the amusement obvious in her voice.

‘Hi Caroline’ Ian said, trying not to sound breathless. Another five minutes would have seen us safe, but she had to ring just then. I smiled to myself, trying to mute my growing excitement. Very soon it would be too late and I would leave her in no doubt as to what had happened to me.

‘I just wondered what you thought about my little trip to see your hairdresser today’ she ventured.

‘I haven’t told him’ I managed to say while Ian was still at the bewilderment stage. I was struggling to focus on what she was saying without detracting from the sensations shooting through me each time Ian pressed home.

‘You mean you haven’t told him I had my hair cut?’ she said. She turned her attention to Ian. ‘What do you think I did, Ian?’ she asked, her voice sounding huskier all of a sudden. Should I have been annoyed at her talking to him like that? Probably, but it turned me on even more.

‘No idea’ he replied. He was struggling to contain himself, I could tell.

‘Don’t you want to know?’ she pressed. ‘You’d like it, I know you would’ she added.

‘Why’s that then?’ he asked, sounding like he was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t interested. I suspect that he was at the stage of trying to think about absolutely anything but attractive women with shaven heads.

‘Because I know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Izzy liked to watch me get my hair cut, didn’t you Izzy?’ she said.

‘What do you think we’re doing?’ he asked. I could sense tension in his voice. Tension of a good kind.

She ignored his question.

‘You can’t see me, but I’m stroking myself where I used to have hair. There’s just smooth skin there. Beautiful, soft skin. No hair, just skin’ she breathed.

‘Caroline! I’m going to hang up now’ I said. Ian reinforced the message with a timely thrust.

‘My new man came on my head. Are you going to cum on Izzy’s head?’ she asked. What a question! Ian hit the home straight, unable to hold back any longer. I reached for my phone to turn it off, but Ian’s hand caught mine before I could reach the phone. It was exciting him too. I had no more words, just primitive sounds that built to a crescendo as Ian got more and more frantic behind me. My best friend was listening to me getting fucked. I could just picture her sitting there listening. I wondered whether the hairless skin she was talking about was on her shaven scalp or her pussy or both. In my mind I decided that she was sitting there naked stroking her head, fingers of the other hand touching herself, feeling her wetness. Was that just my filthy mind at work? Is that what I would do if the roles were reversed? Would I have respected her privacy and hung up if the roles were reversed? Definitely not!

Ian was banging in to me now, trying his best to drive me against the breakfast bar. My feet were planted, forming a rigid triangle for him to work against. Just one more, just one more, just one more and then he was done. There was to be no cum on my face. There was no time. Ian had me in a bear hug now, holding me there, trying to freeze the moment of ecstasy. After a few moments, Ian released his hold, undocking from me, leaving me to pick up the phone while he went to the fridge for refreshment.

‘Caroline! You pervert’ I admonished. She laughed.

‘You said you weren’t doing anything’ she replied, feigning innocence.

‘You know full well what I was doing’ I said, trying to sound annoyed, but knowing that the truth was quite the opposite. My real feelings about Caroline having listened to us screwing was best summed up by my delight at the sensation of Ian’s cum dripping out of me and onto the kitchen floor.

‘That makes two of us’ she said.

‘While you were on the phone?’

‘No, earlier. With the guy from the pub.’

‘You didn’t?’ I said, despite knowing exactly what she was capable of.

‘Oh yes. I fucked him, dear reader’ she said.

‘Is he there now?’

‘No, he had to go back to work, so I did a bit of DIY just now while I listened to the pair of you.’

‘I’m not sure I want to know that’ I said, my puritanical stance completely at odds with my post-coital reality.

‘Let me know if you need a hand’ Ian chipped in, still able to hear what she was saying.

‘I’ve got hands, it’s a cock that I need’ she replied.

‘I’m never going to be able to come to yours for Sunday tea again’ I said before Ian had the chance to make the obvious offer.

‘So how’s that man of yours going to see my perfectly shaved head?’ she asked.

‘I don’t believe you’ he said. I put my hand over the mouthpiece and nodded forcefully. Ian put his hand round his resting cock and dodged the slap that I aimed at him.

‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’ I asked, with mock formality.

‘Plenty, but I think you’re too selfish’ Caroline replied.

‘Where’s Martin?’ I asked, changing the subject.

‘History’ she replied tersely.

‘No, Caroline. You can’t do that’ I objected.

‘It’s kinder to do it now. He’s already sent me a text telling me that we’re through because he can’t be seen with a woman with no hair. What do you think he’d say if he found out that I fucked the first guy I met when I came out of the hairdressers?’

‘He was the second’ I replied, wanting to add an element of respectability.

‘That’s alright then. He won’t have any problem with that at all’ she replied, with a chuckle.

‘Maybe you’re right. It’s a shame. I liked him’ I said.

‘And me. But I like being bald and it looks like it’s too much for him to take.’

‘So what about your new man or was he just used and abused?’

‘I’m seeing him again tomorrow. That’s what I was ringing about actually. I just wanted to know what sort of clippers you bought.’

I told her the model and where I’d bought them, but offered to lend her ours. It wasn’t as if we’d need them for a while.

‘Were they easy to use?’

‘I haven’t used them on myself yet’ I replied.

‘They’re not for me. Well, they are, but they won’t be used on me. Rick’s going to be the lucky beneficiary.’

‘What does he think about that?’ I asked.

‘He doesn’t know yet, but it’s the price he’s going to have to pay if he wants to repeat what he did earlier on.’

‘Some “entrance fee”‘ Ian commented.

I laughed at his crudeness, and squirmed as his fingers started to make an entrance of their own to demonstrate his point. My involuntary intake of breath betrayed me.

‘Sounds like I’d better let you two get on’ Caroline said.

‘Yeah, but come round for a drink in a bit, pick the clippers up. That’ll let Ian have a look at you’ I said.

‘Okay, I’ll give you a hour or so, how’s that sound?’

‘Great’ I gasped. Ian had just made an attempt to enclose my whole pussy with his mouth, with his tongue burrowing between my lips. There was no time for “goodbye”. I put the phone down and leant back against the breakfast bar to allow Ian to enjoy his slice of pie at the optimum angle. After Caroline’s call, I knew that it would be served with double cream.

Ian demonstrated an enthusiasm for eating pussy-pie that surpassed any previous effort that he had made. He had me gasping, teetering on the edge before he finally allowed me to let go. I wanted to luxuriate in the sensation, but knew that we had to get ourselves decent for Caroline. Why hadn’t I said two hours? I headed for the shower, knowing that I had to get in there and lock the door before Ian made it upstairs, otherwise we would try to squeeze in just one more quickie. As it was, I had to slap him away when I came out and told him to hurry up and get ready.

By the time Caroline rang the doorbell, I was sitting demurely in the lounge, sipping a glass of wine. Ian was still getting ready and I was just savouring what had turned out to be an epic day in my sex life. I opened the door, having a little chuckle at the broad smile on Caroline’s face.

‘Slapper!’ she said by way of greeting.

‘Me? What about you, you tart?’ I replied. We hugged and went into the lounge. I saw Caroline sniff the air theatrically.

‘Ha! Ha! We were in the kitchen actually’ I explained.

‘Different’ she commented, picking up the clippers that I had set out on the table. She inspected them carefully.

‘So you just flick the switch and five minutes later you get fucked, is that it?’

‘More or less’ I replied.

That was Ian’s cue to come down the stairs. Neither Caroline or I said a word as he peeped his head round the door and looked at her. He looked some more.

‘Well, what do you think, Mr Stud?’ Caroline asked, doing a little twirl.

‘I’d show you, but Izzy’s had today’s ration already’ he replied. I gave him a disapproving look, but wondered just what might have happened if he hadn’t been all used up. Caroline smiled, but said nothing.

We sat and chatted for a while, co-conspirators against Caroline’s new man’s hair. She was determined to shave him or find someone else. In a way I felt sorry for the poor guy, but then remembered how I had cornered Ian and how well that had worked out. She didn’t stay long. It was late and she said that she wanted her beauty sleep in preparation for the following day. I suspected that it would be a while before she got to sleep. Ian and I had no such trouble.
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