The Bar Queen Slayed…


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Sharon moved in about a year ago, a local divorced 3x’s – 50 year old – we had a on again/off again kind of arrangement. No commitments, she simply needed a place to live and I enjoyed the occasional sex. Over the past 6 months or so, Sharon spent an increasing amount of time at a local bar, drinking, karaoke, bingo nights and of course, running her mouth and trying to land any suspecting guy – for a hookup or a good time. Several weeks ago, I arrived home early from an overnight business trip to find one of the local guys leaving the driveway. As I walked in, I met her halfway down the hallway, coming from the shower. Not really sure if she thought she was busted – she met me with a quick peck on the cheek and quickly went down on her knees – her specialty.

“Hope this relieves some stress baby” as she grabbed my limp cock and stroked it – with her usual deep intake. After a short time, I pulled my pants up and asked a quick question. “which tasted better, his or mine?” Complete silence, and not knowing what to say, she said “Hey, I didn’t invite him over, he just showed up, and besides, you did go on a date a few weeks back as well, right? “No sweat – but I really don’t think this arrangement is good for either of us, you should start looking for another place to live.”

A week or so passed and I again reminded her that she had outstayed her welcome and she should be out ASAP.

“I have nowhere else to go” – and he is just a friend from the bar.” I really care about you and our relationship, I just didn’t think you did.” After several days of her doing the whole I love you shit, to the I’ll do anything to prove it, I decided to call her bluff.

“It seems that the issue is your drinking, hanging out at the bar, and all those -“guy friends”…  you need to get your shit and go to one of their houses. But if you “like me like you say” prove it… “I’ll do anything – I think what we have is special – those other guys are simply acquaintances, nothing more…”

The next day we drove over in the late afternoon, (Saturday) and I reminded her that she needed to prove to me that she did indeed care like she went on and on about… “I’ll do anything, just give us a chance baby” she said as she began her whole dick sucking routine.

“Get in the truck, we’re grabbing some breakfast and running a few errands.’ Off we went and we arrived at Cal’s – the local barbershop a few miles from the house. “I need a haircut, and I think you do as well” as we walked toward the front door.

“You said you would do anything to prove your loyalty  – so let’s see if you can handle a good short haircut and see how all the guys at the bar like the new look.” With a look of “WTF” we walked in and took a seat. “Go ahead and check in on FB, like you do when you post all your fucking business everywhere.” After we sat or a for a few minutes, I took her phone and posted:

Sharon Hill – checked in to Cal’s Barbershop. feeling nervous. Going for a super short new look, hope you guys like it:  #goingshort #baldfade #clipperedwomen #oster76buzz #chindown.

Next… as the barber on the end yelled across the shop. “It’s you turn babe, go on and show me how much you care about or relationship, your cut is in your messages.” As Sharon rose and walked toward the empty chair, she glanced at her phone. Sitting quietly in the chair, and with a look of “WTF” she starred over and I could read her lips. “Are you fucking serious right now” I glanced over with a nod.

“How short are we going ma’m – the barber said as he has probably said a thousand times during his career. Sharon raised her phone up and showed him the picture.

“Let me make sure it’s OK with my husband,” as she motioned for me to come over. I walked over and without any hesitation, said, “I love it as well babe, I really encourage you to even go a bit shorter,  I promise I do love it”

With a few pumps of the chair, and a quick nudge of the head down, Sharon’s shearing began. The photo was that of a high-n-tight look, with the top about 1/4 inch high – the sides and back down to the skin. And with a seemingly awkward silence, piles of hair fell as Sharon teared up and even began to shed tears that ran down her cheek. “Gail, did you borrow my Triple 000 zero again”? as he asked the barber to his right. “I don’t see it Harold, just use my 5 zero – he’ll she’s damn near bald anyway” as they both chuckled…  I walked over the the rear of the shop and told Sharon I was walking out to make a quick call. “I’ll be right back in babe, let me go make a quick call to the office, by the way – your hair is starting to look amazing. I know you wanted the bald fade look, looks like he’s headed in the right direction”. As if to follow my que – the barber reached for her crown and forcefully tilted her head down, a real chin to chest moment. With the 5 zero blade attached, Sharon was was shaved down to the bone. I walked out and quietly peered back in to watch the butchering. After e few more minutes, the lather, straight razor and talc was applied.

Once the back and sides were done, a with a few quick pumps from a water bottle, the old barber ran his fingers through the loner top and reached for a huge pair of scissors… And with a few loud snips (sounded like someone eating celery) the top was gone. A dab of gel and her hair was standing at attention, about an inch long – stiff as a board. By now, I was directly across from her chair and he spun her around to face the shop.

“Real still darling” as he guided the large clippers crossways, against the grain, leaving her hair no longer than 1/4 inch on top. After 20 or so minutes,  and with pain staking precision, Sharon rose from the chair with the tightest, high-n-tight flattop I have ever seen. And with a dab or two of after shave and a quick shot with the air hose, we walked out. 

With not a word said, we drove by Turners, the local bar she so often frequented and I told her to get out and go on in, grab a seat at the bar. I told her I would park and grab a seat after I parked. I had never been inside the shithole, and I parked and walked in. “Before you go in, hand me your phone” as I wanted to update the world on her bullshit FB page on her new look. Reluctantly passing me her phone – Sharon applied her signature bright red lipstick – as if she were trying to gain some form of her old self before entering the bar.

Facebook post | Sharon Hill – Cross this off my bucket list, a new look for summer. Cal’s barber shop rocks. Ladies if your thinking of going short, Cal’s is the place to get it done… #buzzedclean #thebarberwon #I’llbebackoften # nohairdontcare. Parking behind a large moving van, it was very easy for me to enjoy a great head job in the front seat. As she moved up and down on the shaft of my cock, and with her face now smeared in bright red makeup,  I read a few of the posts as they were coming into her into her FB thread…  I jokingly tried to grab the back of her hair in a forceful manner. “Keep sucking babe, in this case, bald works out well for you”

After 30 minutes or so, I pulled her mouth away and released my pleasure on the back of her nape. And with a few real deep rubs, massaged it in and around her bald nape and ears.

By then – and after regaining some composure, Sharon checked her FB to see literally a dozen posts form her hair transformation! Go grab a seat at the bar, I’ll see you at home later babe! I want to hear all the comments from the bar crowd! Sharon walked across the lot, with her 5 inch heels, large hoop earrings, wondering what the hell just happened. As I drove home, and after a few errands, I sent a quick text to the queen. Your shit’s packed – now take your bald ass out of my life – by the way, the key is in the moving truck – it’s right outside….

 

 

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