An Inch at a Time, Part 2

Story Categories:

Story Tags:

Views: 5,329 | Likes: +38

Part 1


Tavo rolled over to face his lover in bed. Sammie was still asleep, her back to him. Although he knew she had slept in the nude, barely any any flesh was visible behind her long, black hair.

Hair that she had let him cut last night. Hair she would let him cut again in one month’s time.

It was beautiful hair, to be sure. Thick and slightly wavy, although Sammie almost always blow dried the waves away, or had Tavo do it. Although he was a professional hair stylist, Tavo never thought he would be able to convince Sammie to let him cut her hair. Wash and style it, sure. But Sammie seemed committed to her long hair, and loyal to his colleague, Carly, whose station at the salon was next to his.

But then last night, they had been playing some game Sammie brought home and she drew a card that asked Tavo what was a frequent fantasy he had about her and after some stalling, he confessed that in his fantasies about Sammie, she almost always had short hair. It was a fetish, he explained. Short hair in general, cutting it specifically. And Sammie, bless her, agreed to let Tavo cut her hair. Not short, like in his fantasies—she wasn’t ready for that. Just an inch.

But in the moment, it was enough. After, the couple had the best sex yet of their six-month relationship—which was really saying something, Tavo chuckled to himself as he remembered the previous evening, given that it had already been fantastic, but what happened next really made it unlike any other. Sammie had said that she wanted to make that night’s events a monthly occurrence. Tavo had explained that if he cut an inch of her hair every month, he’d still be cutting her faster than it grew. But she was okay with that, the gradual shortening of her hair—at least more okay with it than she would be losing a lot of length all in one go. And what else could Tavo do but accept her terms?

It was so exciting, just thinking about it. Not as exciting, perhaps, as it might have been to place his shears level with her jaw and cut straight across…but then again, maybe it was more exciting this way? The anticipation of each month’s cut. The gradual transformation, so that in a year’s time Sammie’s hair would be half a foot shorter than it had started out last night. At what point would people start to notice? The changes would be so subtle at first, but then all of a sudden, her hip-length hair would reach only to her waist. That delicious hollow spot right at the top of her buttocks would not longer be covered as she walked around her house nude on a lazy Sunday.

Her house. They had been talking last night, before all of this, about moving in together. That’s what had prompted the game, which led to the confession, which led to the haircut, which led to the best sex of their relationship, which led to Sammie telling Tavo she wanted to repeat the ritual monthly.

That was a commitment, he realized. Sammie was planning for next month. Hell, as she calculated how quickly her hair would grow relative to how much was cut, she was planning for next year. She trusted him. She loved him. Tavo didn’t want there to be a her house and a his house anymore. He wanted to dwell in their home.

Tavo reached out and brushed Sammie’s hair over one shoulder, revealing her back. Softly, he began to kiss her, starting at the nape of her neck and running his lips down her spine. Sammie stirred. It was the intended effect. “Hey,” she said sleepily, rolling to face Tavo.

“Hey,” he said back, smiling. “I think we should move in together.”


“Tavo,” Sammie shouted from the kitchen of the new house they had just moved into, together, “Where did you pack the coffee mugs?”

The last few weeks had been a whirlwind. The same day Tavo affirmed that yes, he did want to move in together, Sammie learned through a realtor friend that a house around the block from the one she leased was going up for rent. She had always loved driving by the house, with its cheery blue front door and the rose bushes that defied all attempts at being kept tidy, and now the owners were off to Singapore for a job that would last at least three years. They couldn’t bear to part with the house and the direct access it gave to the city park behind it, but they didn’t want to leave it empty, either. Sammie and Tavo went to see the house that afternoon and by evening their rental application had been approved, their move-in date set for one month later, to the day.

In the interim, there was so much to do. Tavo and Sammie both had to find subletters for their own homes, plus go through two houses’ worth of stuff and decide what they’d take and what they’d donate or throw away. When it came to things they both owned, like furniture and dishes and bedsheets, they decided together whose things they’d be using in the new house. It turned out they both liked Tavo’s kitchenware better, so now here Sammie was, trying to find coffee cups so that they could actually drink the coffee she had just brewed in the coffee maker she’d brought from her own place.

Tavo popped his head into the doorway—he’d been building furniture in the other room. “They’re in one of the boxes marked ‘kitchen.’ Sorry I can’t be more specific than that. But I’ll help you look.” The couple began to cut open the boxes they’d piled in the corner of the kitchen.

Sammie was the one to find the coffee mugs. She also found what Tavo had packed with them: a set of haircutting supplies. She held them up, her eyebrow arched. “Kitchen?” she asked.

“I mean, yeah. That’s where we did it last time.”

She laughed. “Okay, but do they need to be stored in the kitchen?”

“No,” Tavo conceded. “But I knew you’d probably open kitchen boxes first and I wanted you to find those. It has been a month, after all.”

“A month and a day,” Sammie added, smiling. Tavo was glad to see she wasn’t annoyed by the message implied through his packing methods. “But where do you want to do this? There are boxes everywhere.”

“Not everywhere.” He approached Sammie and took her by the hand, scooping up his tools as he guided her toward their bedroom.

“Okay, I know for a fact there are boxes in there.”

“Not the bedroom,” Tavo said, pulling her through the doorway, straight across the room, and into their en suite bathroom. There, in the center of the room, Tavo had set up a makeshift salon. A hair washing station in the sink. A stool in the middle of the room with small rolling cart beside it. It didn’t have Tavo’s haircutting tools—those were still in his hand, after carrying them from the kitchen—but it was clear from its other contents it was meant to house them.

“I thought you were assembling furniture!” Sammie said, looking around the room.

“I assembled the cart and the stool!” Tavo said somewhat defensively. “And I thought you might like a break from unpacking.”

She turned and shot him that smile he could never get enough of. “I’ll allow it.”

Just like before, the two undressed each other before Sammie took her seat at Tavo’s hair washing station. Lovingly, he caressed and massaged her head as he cleaned her long, raven-colored hair. Hair that in just a few minutes’ time he would once again be taking his shears to. Sammie moaned softly as he worked, and Tavo noticed her nipples were erect. His hands still in her hair, he swung around in front of her and placed his mouth over her left nipple, the one that Tavo had, early on in their relationship and under the influence of quite a bit of Sangria Super Lemon Haze, declared to be his favorite. He sucked and teased the nipple, even as he continued to massage Sammie’s scalp, and her moans intensified. He gave the same treatment to the right, then rinsed Sammie’s hair and squeezed most of the excess water out with a towel.

It was time for the part he’d most been looking forward to, and Tavo’s cock hardened even at the thought of what came next. Sammie noticed and wrapped her fingers around his member, leading him to the stool he’d set up even though he should have been the one leading her.

Sammie sat, and Tavo quickly sectioned her hair, leaving the bottommost section hanging down her back, sending rivulets of water over the curve of her ass and down to the tile floor. Then he combed a section straight and, just as he had before, placed his shears into Sammie’s hair, barely an inch from the ends and close enough to her back that she could feel the cool metal against her skin before he made his first cut. As Tavo closed the blades, Sammie let out a little gasp. Good, he thought. She seemed to be enjoying this as much as he was. He repositioned his shears and made his next cut, the inch of black hair he severed clinging to Sammie’s back. Then another cut. And another. And then it was time to let a layer down and continue. Comb, snip, comb, snip, another layer and another. Soon—too soon, thought Tavo, this month’s haircut was complete. His cock was throbbing.


Sammie and Tavo had agreed to postpone this month’s haircut by a few days, to coincide with Valentine’s Day. This time, Tavo would be washing and styling Sammie’s hair earlier in the evening, then they’d dress and go out for dinner. The haircut—that was dessert.

They arrived back at their little house with the blue door and almost as soon as they were inside, Tavo reached out and removed the hairpin that had been holding most of Sammie’s updo in place. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back, stopping just above her hips. After two one-inch haircuts in as many months, her hair was just about one inch shorter than it had been when they’d started. Such a subtle difference from before that first cut, he doubted anyone had even noticed yet. But he had. That spot right at the top of Sammie’s buttocks that he loved so much had been revealed in the last haircut, but now her hair was once again beginning to cover it. That simply wouldn’t do.

Sammie slipped her dress off her shoulders and gave a little wiggle. It slid straight down to the floor, revealing the lacy bra and panty set she had been wearing underneath, complete with a garter belt holding up her stockings. Still wearing the stilettos she had worn all evening, Sammie slowly walked down the hall to their bedroom and en suite bath.

Tavo followed behind, staying far enough back to enjoy his view.

This time, Tavo planned to cut Sammie’s hair dry. He began to brush through his lover’s hair, making sure any hair spray he had used for her updo earlier that evening was broken up, and the slight kinks in her hair were sufficiently straightened out. Then, as was his custom, he began to section Sammie’s hair.

“I have a surprise for you,” Tavo whispered in her ear as he worked. “Only I feel that I need to tell you now not to be startled when I start. I promise, I won’t be cutting any more hair than we agreed on. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“You should take this off,” Tavo said, running his thumb along the cup of Sammie’s new bra. “Wouldn’t want to get any hair stuck in there.” He circled around Sammie and ran his fingers down her spine, then easily unclasped the bra tossing it across the room to keep it out of the way. “Good. Now close your eyes.”

Sammie did as she was told, and Tavo reached toward the cart that held his supplies, not for comb and scissors like he normally would, but for comb and an unguarded set of clippers. He made a few passes along the bottom layer of Sammie’s hair with this comb, then held it in place with one hand while, using the other, he flicked the clippers on with a loud pop.

Sammie jumped. “You’re not using clippers on me,” she said definitively, only her eyes were still closed so clearly she wasn’t ready to put an end to everything.

“I am, but not how you think. I promise, I’m still only cutting an inch. Do you trust me?”

Sammie nodded, and Tavo brought the humming machine right under the comb he was holding, passing it just under the comb’s teeth and allowing the chewing blades to briefly make contact with Sammie’s back, so she could feel the vibration. She let out a gentle sigh.

Tavo kept going. The clippers helped him make quick work of that first layer and left a blunter line than his shears usually did, but that wasn’t a bad thing. And maybe now, because of this bluntness, someone would actually notice that Sammie had gotten her hair cut.

The second layer was more of the same. It took Tavo a tremendous amount of willpower not to “accidentally” raise the hungry clippers up higher and in an instant sever a long enough length of hair that he would have no choice but to cut a foot or more, rather than a meager inch, of Sammie’s hair. But he couldn’t violate her trust like that, so he continued to move methodically, finishing up this layer and trying to ignore how his cock began to throb at the mere idea of someday using the clippers more aggressively on his beautiful lover.

It only took a few more minutes for the clippers to do their trimming work on the remaining sections of Sammie’s hair. When Tavo was finished, he inspected his work. As he had suspected, the bluntness with which the clippers did their work would make it easier for others to see that something was different about Sammie’s hair, even if they couldn’t quite put a finger on what. Tavo coiled her hair around his hand and gently tugged her head back, turning her throat skyward, and began to run his tongue from behind her right ear down to her clavicle.

Sammie reached toward Tavo’s hips. This was their third haircut but the first one for which Tavo was still fully clothed by the end. That wouldn’t do. Sammie unhooked Tavo’s belt, then undid his fly and let his pants slide down his legs to pool at his feet. She stood up from the stool, only to kneel right down in front of him. As Sammie took Tavo in her mouth, Tavo buried both hands deeply in her raven locks and closed his eyes.


Sammie and Tavo’s new house backed up to a park, so the balcony off their bedroom faced a lot of trees and no other houses. Now that it was beginning to get warm, daytime hours in the park meant it was full of dog walkers and giggling children on the play equipment, and the two had begun to talk about someday bringing their own children to play there. But at night, the park was dark and quiet, and without any homes directly behind theirs, Sammie and Tavo had been looking forward to the nights being warm enough, and sunset being late enough, that they could watch the sun go down from their balcony and linger there well after dark.

The first day of spring fell the week after Daylight Savings Time returned, and Sammie and Tavo saw that the evening was predicted to be unusually warm. This time of year, nighttime temperatures could still plummet by thirty degrees or more from the daytime highs, but it looked like they’d have one pleasant night of just-barely-spring before temperatures went back down for a few weeks, and the couple decided to take advantage by enacting what was by then their monthly ritual sitting out on the balcony.

Tavo wanted to make sure he’d still have enough light to see what he was doing, so he told Sammie he would wash her hair after the cut instead of before, like he usually did. They had hoped the park would have emptied out enough by then that they could undress, but many families lingered in the park below and it would be impossible for them to be on the balcony nude without being spotted. Instead, Sammie donned a short robe she knew Tavo would be able to see through, but that the park-goers could not, and sat in Tavo’s makeshift haircutting station.

Because Sammie’s hair was dry and Tavo was going back to using his shears, rather than the clippers like last time, he sprayed her hair thoroughly with water and then divided it into the customary sections. He made his first cut as sunset began, an inch of her thick raven tresses falling with a gentle plop onto the deck, followed by another, and another. The sunset bathed them both in a warm golden glow and Tavo was barely able to keep himself to the agreed-upon one inch. But he knew Sammie would never forgive him if he took any more, so he kept to the agreed-upon length. Tavo finished the cut right at the onset of twilight, then he quickly gathered his cutting implements and led Sammie inside so the two could shower and he could wash her hair.

By the time they emerged, the couple could hardly contain themselves. Sammie bent over the bathroom vanity, her wet hair spilling into the sink, while Tavo slipped into her from behind, wrapping the heavy wet locks around his fingers and pulling slightly. The water, now turning cold, dripped onto Sammie’s back and rolled toward Tavo’s cock, little prickles of ice that sent chills down his arms and legs.

They had not bothered sweeping up the small clippings of Sammie’s hair, and the next day Sammie and Tavo awoke to see a few sparrows excitedly hopping around the balcony, with little bundles of black hair clamped between their beaks.


“Where did you find that?” Tavo asked, laughing at the object Sammie proudly showed him. It was an old paper cutter, like you might have found in a grade school classroom before someone rather wisely caught on that second graders and sharp blades didn’t mix.

“It was at my mom’s house, in the pile of stuff she was planning to sell in the neighborhood yard sale.”

“And what are you thinking we should do with it?” Tavo asked, though he had an inkling.

“We hit another month tonight,” Sammie replied, coyly.

“That thing is probably 40 years old. I can’t imagine the blade is sharp enough to cut through construction paper, let alone through hair.” Tavo had to admit, he was intrigued at the possibility, but he was also worried the dull blade could really mess up Sammie’s hair, and she could wind up losing a lot more than her one monthly inch.

“Funny you should mention that,” she smirked. “You know that stand in the farmer’s market with the guy who sharpens knives? Turns out he can sharpen the blade on a paper cutter, too.”

“You think of everything, don’t you?”

“Just one of the many reasons you love me.”

“Okay, fine. But I need to warn you that if you move, or if your hair slides around on the paper cutter, you could lose more than an inch of hair,” Tavo cautioned.

“You’ve given me no reason not to trust you so far.”

“Yes, but that was using the tools of my trade. This is a wild card.” Tavo paused a moment, thinking. “I may have an idea for how we can work this, but it’s not going to be very comfortable for you. We’re going to get your hair pretty wet, so it’s heavy, but I’m not going to wash it because I don’t want there to be anything on it that can make it slippery. Then you’re going to lie down on the floor and we’re going to bring all your hair onto the paper cutter, and I’m going to weigh it down some more, with…” he looked around the room, his eyes landing on the hammer he’d had out earlier to hang a few photos they’d just had framed. “…This. And then you are going to lie very, very still while I line your hair up with the one-inch marker, and then you’re going to hold your breath and I’m going to close the blade and we’ll see what happens.” Tavo looked at Sammie, fully expecting her to have changed her mind about this plan, but her eyes were shining.

“Can we start now?”

Tavo laughed heartily. “Go wet your hair for me in the sink. Squeeze enough water out that you’re not dripping it on the floor but don’t towel it off. I’ll get everything else set up.”

Sammie did as instructed, while Tavo pushed some furniture aside and laid everything out according to what he said, then placed a towel on the ground so Sammie wouldn’t have to lie on the bare floor. She emerged a few minutes later, her hair wet, and all her clothing off…which Tavo did not ask her to do, but he was glad for anyway.

Grateful her lover had put a towel on the floor, Sammie lay down while Tavo fanned her hair out behind her and onto the paper cutter, careful that its ends were positioned right at the one-inch marker. Her hair seemed heavy enough that it was not at much risk of moving when the blade came down, but still he put the hammer down across Sammie’s hair to hold it in place. When Tavo did, he thought he heard a soft gasp escape her, but couldn’t be sure. “You all right, mi amor?”

“Never better,” Sammie cooed, holding up one arm to show him a thumbs-up, but also revealing goosebumps that ran from her wrist to her shoulders. He’d seen those goosebumps before. He knew they weren’t caused by the cold.

“Okay,” Tavo said, “here goes nothing.” Then he raised the guillotine-like blade, and brought it down swiftly. It seemed to cut about halfway through Sammie’s hair before coming to a stop. “Sammie, that didn’t cut the whole way through. I’m going to see if a second chop does it. Don’t. Move.” The blade came up again, and Tavo closed it even faster than before. This time, it seemed to cut the whole way through Sammie’s hair. He removed the hammer that had been weighing her hair down, then slid the paper cutter out of the way. “All right, corazon, get up and let’s see how well that actually worked.”

Sammie did as she was told, standing up and allowing her black hair to fall down her back. To an inexpert eye, perhaps, it might have looked fine. But when Tavo took a close look at it, he noticed not all of the hair had been cut at exactly the same length, and there were a lot of split ends from it being cut with a blade that, though sharpened, was not meant for hair. “Well?” Sammie asked. “What’s the verdict?”

“Don’t be mad, but I think I need to cut it a little more to even everything up.”

Sammie let out a sigh, clearly disappointed. “I can’t be mad, because this was my idea. But how much more are we talking?”

Tavo grabbed a comb and began to run it through Sammie’s ends, lifting layers away from each other and examining them. “If I’m cutting it blunt, I’d probably need to cut another inch. If you’d let me give you some layers, you’d only lose another half inch in overall length, but you’ll lose a few inches in the top layers.”

“How many is a few?”

“Three, at least.”

Sammie tried to work through the math. “Okay, so, this is the fifth haircut, meaning before we started today I was about two inches shorter than when we started, and that this time next month, I’m supposed to be about two and a half inches shorter overall. And if you cut another inch today, I guess…what? I’ll be four inches shorter before the next haircut, instead?”

“Thereabouts,” Tavo conceded.

“But if you cut layers in, and then next month I wanted to go back to having a blunt cut, I could wind up…six and a half inches shorter than when we started?”

“More or less. It would hit about here,” Tavo explained, drawing a finger across Sammie’s back at waist-height. She shuddered and Tavo could see the goosebumps reemerging. He hoped they had emerged in excitement, as a sign she was considering plan b, even looking ahead to next month when perhaps he’d finally be able to chop more than a mere inch of her hair.

Instead, Sammie gently swatted his hand away. “Just cut one more inch off,” she said, “and don’t let me come up with any more hare-brained schemes next time.”

Tavo did as he was asked, and within a few minutes, Sammie’s hair was all one uniform length again. It was now four and a half inches shorter than when Sammie had let him cut that first inch. The small of her back was now fully exposed, the cleft above her buttocks there for him to admire; her hair just barely grazed he top of her pelvis. As Tavo washed Sammie’s hair after completing the cut, he observed that it was still long, by any definition, but short enough now that her particularly observant friends might start to notice. He made this observation to Sammie, as he combed through her now-clean hair, and for whatever reason, that was all it took for her to spin around and kiss him passionately. She gave a little hop and wrapped her legs around Tavo’s hips, and he carried her into the bedroom.


Sammie had been doing a lot of traveling and was barely home in May. Tavo thought she might miss that month’s trim, and wouldn’t have blamed her if she had, given that she’d lost another inch than she had planned the month before. But on the appointed day Sammie managed to catch a red-eye flight home. She’d be back for less than twenty-four hours, but that was more than enough time for her monthly cut. 

The cut itself was nothing notable. Just another inch. But Sammie was so grateful to be home with her lover, even for a few hours, that when the cut was done she guided Tavo to the bedroom and commenced to show him her gratitude. Then Tavo showed Sammie his.


Sammie and Tavo decided to hold off on their monthly haircut until the summer solstice, hoping they would be able to perform their own solstice ritual on their balcony without the observant eyes of any park-goers.

Their gamble paid off. The park was empty well before sunset, so Sammie and Tavo stripped naked inside their house and came out onto the balcony ready to greet the summer. With his usual care, Tavo began to section and then cut Sammie’s hair, carefully cutting one-inch sections and letting her hair go in the breeze. He was cutting it dry today, something he didn’t usually do, but Sammie wanted it to be light enough to blow away  as Tavo cut it, releasing it into the world as part of a solstice ritual she had almost entirely made up.

Sammie had not told Tavo this, but in the spirit of the renewing energy of the solstice, she had a special surprise for him, too. As he let the last strands of hair blow out of his hand and into the quickening sky, she told him: “You’re not finished yet.”

“Oh?” Tavo said, looking startled.

“I think the occasion calls for a bigger change, don’t you?”

Tavo tried not to betray his excitement. What could Sammie have in mind this time? “What, uh, what are you thinking?”

“Bangs. Thick ones.”

Tavo immediately felt his blood rush to his exposed cock. Sammie had never seemed interested in having bangs before. Tavo remembered that first time he met her, when she was sitting in Carly’s chair at the station next to his own, and Carly was trying to coax Sammie into adding some layers and maybe a curtain bang, and Sammie had steadfastly refused. He knew Carly had suggested different bang variations a few times since, and he had agreed with her on all of them, but still, Sammie was happy with her long, blunt-cut hair all falling to the same length.

“That’s…quite a change.”

“I know.”

“I’d have to cut off more than a foot and a half of hair in the front.”

“I know that, too.”

“So you’re sure?”

A familiar look of determination took over Sammie’s face. “Do it.”

“Tell me again.” Tavo could hardly believe it. He wasn’t going to be giving her a short haircut, by any means, but still, he would be cutting at least one section of her hair significantly shorter than he ever imagined he’d be allowed.

Sammie grabbed Tavo’s now fully erect cock and held it near her mouth as if it were a microphone. “I want you to cut my hair off.” He hardened in her hand. She let go. “Later,” she chided, looking directly at his phallus. “Now,” she commanded, looking directly into Tavo’s eyes.

He did not need to be told twice. Taking up his comb, Tavo created a triangular part starting at Sammie’s crown and moving toward her forehead, letting all the hair in this section hang down like a curtain in front of Sammie’s face and dampening it with his spray bottle—unlike those little one-inch sections he had sacrificed to the solstice, he did not want these lengths to blow away. Then he quickly clipped the rest of Sammie’s long, black hair back to keep it out of the way.

Tavo returned to the front section and ran his comb through it a few times, then finally stopped it level with Sammie’s eyebrows. Even though Sammie could not see him, she could feel the warm, excited energy coming off her lover when the comb ceased its movement.

“I love you so much,” Tavo said huskily, then raising his shears, he began to make slow, upward snips toward his comb, as long wisps of hair fell away, landing on Sammie’s exposed breasts. Soon enough, Sammie’s right eye was revealed, and in it, Tavo saw such powerful lust that he almost stopped cutting then and there so the two could fall to the ground entangled in each other’s limbs. But no: Tavo knew that despite her confident assertion that evening, cutting this much hair was a big deal for Sammie, and he’d hate it if they stopped to make love and she caught sight of herself in the mirror with a large chunk of hair missing. Besides, he was a professional. Better to do the job now, and do it well.

But it wasn’t going to be easy. With her right eye revealed, Sammie could see Tavo well enough to pick up a few long strands of hair that had settled on her chest and wrap them around the shaft of his cock while he placed his comb again. Tavo clenched his glutes and drew a slow, deep breath, willing himself to calm down enough to finish this haircut. It would only be a few more minutes. He began his point-cutting again, his scissors perpendicular to his comb, doing his best to keep his hands steady while Sammie stroked his cock with the silky-soft locks that had only seconds ago been attached to her. No sooner was her left eye revealed than Sammie gave the hair around Tavo’s shaft a tug, pulling him again near her mouth.

“I still need to make sure everything is even and blend the bangs in at the sides,” Tavo objected halfheartedly. “Later,” Sammie told him, indicating with her eyes that he should put his shears down. “Now,” she said, pulling the hair wrapped around Tavo’s member more forcefully his time and using the length to guide it into her mouth. He buried his hands in her hair as Sammie began to work Tavo with both her mouth the severed hair, wrapping and unwrapping it around his cock as lips, tongue, and occasionally teeth brought him ever closer to explosion. When he felt like he could hardly take it anymore he moved his hands to Sammie’s shoulders and eased himself out of her mouth, then scooped her up and lay her the pile of hair that had collected as he cut. The ground beneath it was hard, but as Tavo threw Sammie’s legs over his shoulders and began to eat her pussy, she didn’t care. She hadn’t yet seen a mirror, had no idea how she’d look now that she’d sacrificed eighteen inches of hair to her new bangs, but for the moment, she didn’t care about that, either. All she cared about was the building ecstasy Tavo was eliciting with his tongue.

Later that night, as Sammie and Tavo lay in bed, exhausted from their evening activities and gently drifting off, Sammie found herself sleepily wondering whether this was all still exciting because of how much it excited Tavo, or whether the actual act of having her hair cut was exciting her. She knew she would have to examine that question further, but not tonight. She flicked off the bedside light and fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

To be continued…

4 responses to “An Inch at a Time, Part 2

Leave a Reply