Casting Off – Part 2

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Inviting Katy along to a piercing studio wasn’t necessarily the most sensible move that I could’ve made. She was young, she was exuberant at starting what she thought was a career as an actress and she was with her mum, who in a strange way, wanted to show that she could keep up.

So it was, that my curiosity at having my nipples pierced turned into reality. The discomfort passed with the days and left me sporting a bar through each nipple with coloured balls on each end that some would say were too big to be modest, but I loved the thought that people could tell that the middle-aged woman that they passed as she walked down the supermarket aisle had pierced nipples and was likely to have more surprises to offer. I couldn’t have been more obvious if I’d tried, but I hadn’t managed to draw any takers from that source, hence my recent gym membership. If you couldn’t pull there, there had to be something seriously wrong.

I sat at the table watching taut buttocks walk past me, both male and female, feeling quite relaxed. I always felt the same after a session at the gym. I’d graduated to exercise in a public setting from seemingly endless exercise DVDs which I’d started using after Ruth cut my hair. Sitting in her chair naked had made me realise that I wasn’t beyond hope and that with a bit of effort, I could look and probably feel better. My little belly had started to firm up from just the videos at home, but once I’d joined the gym, the improvement really started to show. I’d started to come a couple of times a week, purely for myself and on the off-chance of meeting someone. Well, the fresh food section hadn’t worked so well for me!

The ‘someone’ happened to be approaching the table with two coffees. She was a woman that I’d bumped into in the changing rooms a couple of times, but I’d only spoken to her for the first time when she’d lost her locker key and needed to ask for help. We were about the same age and that cry for help turned into a “thank you” coffee. That had then developed into a couple of further coffees and lunch and then today’s planned get-together.

Christine was a trophy-wife as far as I could see, looking to occupy her days while her husband was on a business trip to the area. Some sort of secondment while he sorted out a problem business that interested neither of us. The only thing that mattered was that he was due to be in the area for another few weeks and then they would both be off down south again. It was a shame, because we got on well and I could sense that we would become good friends, if only she was closer.

It made me laugh when she said that she joined the local gym whenever they were on one of these longer stays, precisely to meet someone to help fill the time. Her husband sounded like he had other interests, if you know what I mean and she wasn’t getting the attention that she craved. True, she liked the generous allowance, but she’d already shared enough for me to know that theirs wasn’t a conventional marriage. We seemed to have quite a lot in common, apart from the husband and the generous expense allowance that is. Not that I was hard-done by, but being able to put most of your expenses through a corporate account made a difference. It certainly bought us a very nice lunch the first time we went for more than coffee.

She talked easily, pausing whenever a fine specimen walked past.

‘Your hair’s different’ she said out of nowhere. One minute she’d been extolling the virtue of younger men and then she veered into the subject of my hair.

‘It’s darker than last time’ she added.

‘Do you like it?’

‘It suits you. It’s more sophisticated’ she added.

I smiled. I looked at her and leaned forward conspiratorially.

‘It’s a wig’ I confided quietly.

‘But…but…I’m sorry’ she said, a little stuck for something to say.

‘Don’t be. I like wigs, what more can I say?’

‘So, it’s not a health thing?’

‘Not at all. I like to be different sometimes, so I put a wig on.’

‘Isn’t that difficult in the gym?’

‘Depends what I’m doing, but I’m usually ok. I just put a bit more glue on’ I said, watching her expression change when she eventually got my joke.

‘I’ve never actually used one. Isn’t it a bit difficult to get it to look natural?’

‘Same as everything. Quality costs, but it’s worth it’ I replied.

‘I suppose so. You’ll have to give me some tips. I might like to give it a go for one of my liaisons’ she chuckled.

‘Somehow I don’t think that’s a joke.’

‘I’m sure I’m missing out on all manner of things’ she replied. I looked at her hair, expensively cut, and coloured by the looks of it. It was a rich chocolate colour, in a collar length bob. It suited her.

I could sense her looking at me.

‘What?’ I asked.

I was just trying to work out what you look like “au naturelle”, without the wig’ she explained.

‘That would be telling’ I replied with a smile.

We changed the subject back to taut buttocks when a particularly fine specimen walked past. The only problem was that he knew that he was a fine specimen.

Both of us gave him the thumbs down on that account, although I decided that I was probably a little hasty. Martin and I had tried to make a go of it, but I just couldn’t get my head round the idea of him being so close to the porn industry, even if he did swear blind that he wouldn’t touch the merchandise while we were together. We’d agreed to go our separate ways and I hadn’t actually been with anyone since.

The couple of months that we’d been together had seen a few changes. I’d let my hair grow out and whilst I’d had it clippered a couple of times to even it out, I hadn’t got any great hankering to be a bald woman again. Particularly not now that I was trying to find a soul mate. The slightly more permanent changes had come the day after I’d watched Katy making her first proper porn film. We’d gone into town and come home pierced and tattooed. I’d called a halt after having my nipples pierced, but she’d had to go one better and get her clit done too. I’d balked at that, but she’d persuaded me to get in the tattooist’s chair and have a little dragonfly etched on my hip. Quite tasteful, but it was enough to show myself that I could cross the Rubicon if I needed to. It made me smile to think that people I met probably thought of me as a respectable middle-aged woman, but in reality I’d made a soft-core porn film of me getting my head shaved in the nude and had piercings and a tattoo. All I needed was someone to appreciate what I’d done.

Christine and I whiled away an hour over coffee and then she realised that she had to be somewhere, some reception or other that her husband was hosting.

She had to go and do her duty. We agreed to do lunch.

It was a week before we managed to make that happen. It was her treat, or at least her husband’s treat, so we made the most of it. She looked lovely when she arrived at the restaurant, summer dress and heels. I suspected that she would ditch me in an instant if the right person started to make overtures at her, but I could forgive her that.

‘Very nice’ she said, looking at my ‘Louise Brooks’ black bob.

‘One of my favourites’ I replied. ‘A couple of inches off and you could have this for real though’ I added.

‘There’s an idea’ she replied as we were shown to our table.

Once the waiter had gone, she regaled me with a tale of how the guy with the taut buttocks at the gym had fallen into her trap. I blushed at some of the things that she said, particularly when she referred to him as using her like a spinning bike. We talked and ate and had a couple of glasses of wine, getting easier in each other’s company as time went by. I excused myself to powder my nose.

When I returned to the table, I could see her do a “double take”. I’d taken my wig off and decided to show her what I really looked like with my buzz. The waiter tried to have a discrete look to see what the sudden shriek was for, but he collected himself quickly.

‘Joanna!’ she exclaimed. ‘You’re a bit of a dark horse, aren’t you!’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Do tell. When did you do that?’

I told her. All about the session with Ruth, how I got shaved in the nude. Something about the way that she relished telling me about fucking the gym guy just brought out the competitive side of me, like with Katy and our piercings. I wanted to show her that she wasn’t the only one who could let go.

She wanted to see the film. The film was at my house, so we adjourned there.

When we got back to the house, she made the perfunctory admiring noises about the way I’d got things, but it was clear that her curiosity needed to be sated. I was still wondering about the wisdom of showing her the video, but ushered her into the study where the computer was. She made herself comfortable and I cued the film.

‘Would you like a drink?’ I asked, finger poised over the mouse.

‘No, I’m fine. Where are you going to sit?’

‘Oh, I’m going to leave you to watch it on your own. I’ve seen it’ I chuckled.

I clicked ‘Play’ and stayed just long enough to see my naked self sit in the chair. ‘I’ll leave you to it’ I said, and left, closing the door behind me.

I went and sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea, one eye on a magazine, but not really taking any notice of what was on the page.

Eventually Christine appeared in the doorway.

‘Wow!’ she said. I held my cup aloft to see if she wanted to join me. She settled on wine.

‘What was it like?’ she asked after she sat down.

‘Scary. Exciting. Sexy. All at the same time.’

‘Well, it certainly opened my eyes’ she said.

‘I can give you her number, if you’d like’ I joked.

‘Hubby would just shit if a video of me doing something like that appeared on the internet.’

‘I can see that it wouldn’t go down well in the boardroom’ I agreed.

‘Good on you for doing it though’ she said.

She pushed me for more and more detail on how I came to meet Ruth and it made me feel bad to lie to her. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell her about Katy’s foray into porn and everything else that it would open up. I suspect that she knew that I was being economical with the truth, but she didn’t pursue it.

‘So it was a one-time thing then?’

‘Definitely. I’d never do another film. That one makes me nervous enough.’

‘I meant shaving your head.’

‘I got caught up in the moment. I like it short like this, but I probably wouldn’t shave it again’ I explained.

‘I suppose you can just please yourself, can’t you’ she said, before realising that it probably wasn’t the most sensitive remark she could’ve made. I shrugged it off, but there was a little tension in the air for a couple of minutes.

‘What would your husband say if you changed your hair without telling him?’

‘I suspect that he’d just carry on reading his newspaper, that’s if he was at home at all’ she chuckled.

‘That’s a shame’ I consoled. I thought back to how Martin seemed to be so turned on by my shaven head, even though he barely knew me and even though he could have his pick of bright young things. ‘Do you want another?’ I asked, looking at her empty glass.

‘It’s okay, I’ll get it’ she said, getting up and heading to the fridge. I watched her go and then had a thought.

As Christine closed the fridge door, she was slightly startled to see me standing there. She hadn’t heard me cross the kitchen. ‘I can put the film on again, if you want’ I offered.

‘Sure, why not’ she replied.

I followed her to the study and put the film on again while she sat down. I stood by her side, watching the screen, thinking.

‘Haven’t you got another chair you can bring in?’ she asked.

‘I’m fine like this’ I replied, watching Ruth on the screen, poised with her scissors close to my head.

I moved to the left slightly to stand directly behind Christine whose attention was fully on the screen in front of her. I put my hand on the top of her head and let it rest there. She didn’t flinch, so I let it slide down her head, stroking her gently. One hand became two, the gentle stroke became a massage.

‘Can you imagine that it’s you sitting there’ I whispered into her ear. I glanced at the screen to see my own hair tumbling in hanks. I increased the pressure on her scalp and heard a gentle sigh. I looked at my own nakedness on screen, sitting there in the chair and moved my hands deliberately down Christine’s neck to her shoulders. I massaged her shoulders gently and then let my hands drift down until I was cupping her boobs. She raised no objections.

‘Shall we take this off?’ I whispered.

She didn’t reply, but leant forward so that I could reach her zip. I wondered what I was doing. What I was going to do. I slid the zip down as far as I could reach and eased the dress off her shoulders. She wriggled her arms out of the short sleeves and let the dress fall around her waist. She was still watching the screen intently.

‘Stand up’ I said softly in her ear. She stood and the dress slid all the way down, leaving her standing there in an expensive looking bra and knickers set, the devotion to the gym quite evident in her firm, trim figure. I put a tentative hand on her hip and then slid my other hand around and up her torso to cup her right boob. She leaned her head to the side, but kept watching the film. I looked at myself with the rough bob as Ruth cut my bangs right back to my hairline. My hands wandered over Christine’s body as she leaned back into me. I nestled my head on her shoulder so that I could see the screen,

trying to decide just how far I was going to try to take this. I’d enjoyed the attention from Ruth, but it hadn’t gone that far. A bit of a grope and that was it. Did I want to go for it with Christine? Would she know that I hadn’t actually done it with another woman? Had she? She didn’t seem too phased by what I’d done so far. There was only one way to find out.

I hooked my forefingers into the waistband of her knickers and paused. I waited for a couple of seconds and the eased them down, crouching as I went. That made it easier to accomplish the task, but also had me face to face with her carefully manicured pussy. Although we’d met at the gym, we hadn’t actually been in the changing room together to see each other naked. I dwelt a little longer than I’d intended, but then just had to run the back of my index finger across that dark patch of short, dark pubes.

I heard the little sigh, I heard the clippers on the film, I changed my angle of attack so that my fingertip could slip from cropped pubes into the indentation of her cleft. She spread her legs slightly. My finger parted her lips. She groaned. I fixed on my target, closed my eyes and put my tongue out.

I made the lightest contact, as if tasting an unknown dish in foreign parts, which was very apt. I heard the sound of clippers from the film, felt Christine’s hands on my head, gripping me, pulling me in, but then I felt her hand moving slowly across my scalp. It took me a moment to work out, but she was following what was happening on screen. Her hand had become the clippers in Ruth’s hand as they eased across my scalp. She was completely into what was happening on screen and off. My tongue wallowed in her warmth, lapped at her stickiness. I was enjoying myself more than I’d expected, still hoping that she wouldn’t rumble me for a first-timer. I gripped her muscled thighs, stroked her calves, ran my fingertips all the way up to Heaven, all the while feeling her firm fingers run over my buzzed head. The clippers went silent.

I eased my head away from her, stroked her mound and then stood up to kiss her. I wanted her to taste herself. We kissed, but I could tell that she was trying to maintain eye contact with the screen. I knew that I was getting razor-shaved now. I parted her lips with a fingertip and then slid two fingers inside her, right to the knuckle. I felt her shudder. I made sure that my head wasn’t blocking her field of vision and then started to finger-fuck her, slowly at first and then more vigorously. I thought of the vibrator in my bedroom, but it would’ve broken the spell to go and get it. Anyway, my fingers seemed to be doing just fine and I was relishing the feel of her wetness on my fingers. I reached up and stroked her hair with my other hand, wanting to pull it, but knowing that she wouldn’t want me to do that just yet. I could hear her breathing start to quicken, knew that she was close. I went faster, she shrieked. I glanced at the screen. There was still a little patch of shaving foam on my head, but for a first attempt at synchronised fingering and shaving, it wasn’t far off. I felt her relax and kissed her cheek, squeezing her bra-covered boob firmly.

‘More wine?’ I asked, keen to be the perfect hostess. She nodded and I headed for the kitchen, licking her off my lips as I walked. I was surprised at myself, proud of myself. I poured a glass of wine and took a large gulp before refilling it.

‘Lovely’ Christine said, appearing in the kitchen doorway. Her dress was back on and the well-spoken, well-presented woman had returned. She took a sip, but then stopped. ‘Thinking about it, I probably shouldn’t have any more!’ she smiled. I returned her smile, feeling slightly sheepish. I could feel the awkward departure coming on. I wasn’t sure whether to even mention what we’d just done.

‘I can call you a taxi, if you’d like.’

‘That’s probably a good idea. I can pick my car up from the gym later on, when I’m safe’ she said.

We made small talk, promised to meet for lunch and then the taxi was outside. She left and that was that. A budding friendship that admittedly would only have had a short shelf-life before she and her husband went back to where they came from, but who knew? Now I’d ruined it by opening my mouth to prove that she wasn’t the only one who had a wild side. She’d seen my video and that had ruined everything.

The following day I got a text. I expected it to be Katy to say whether she was eating at home or not, but it wasn’t.

‘Are you free on Saturday evening to come to us for a drink?’ it said. Christine. That was definitely not what I expected.

I stared at the text. I tried to work out the sub-text. It seemed to be saying “My husband and I…” or “I’m a married woman and I just want to make that really clear to you by inviting you to spend time with my husband and I.” Couldn’t be clearer. I sat and thought about it. How awkward would it be?

‘Love to’ I sent back.

Arrangements were made. I had two days to think about it, about how I could act innocent in the face of meeting her husband, even if she had suggested that they weren’t strictly the happiest married couple around. They were still married, they were still putting on a front to the outside world.

I knocked on the door, clutching a bunch of flowers and a nice bottle of wine. I’d dithered about what to wear, but decided on smart casual, my favourite dress and my deep red cropped wig that I wore for special occasions.

Christine opened the door. I immediately felt under-dressed. She was wearing a red cocktail dress and full make-up. Not the sort of thing you wear around the house. She noticed my expression.

‘Don’t worry about it. Pete likes me to dress up for him. You’re fine, honest. That made me feel less than great. I followed her into the house and into the lounge where I was introduced to Pete. He wasn’t really what I expected. He was probably fifty, not unattractive, although his midriff showed the effects of too many corporate dinners. I’d expected him to be cold, distant, passive-aggressive, but he was welcoming and showed himself to be an attentive host. I hadn’t been sure if there’d be more guests, but it looked like I was the only one. The ice was broken and we chatted about this and that. Christine told him more about the gym than he probably wanted to know, but he made the best of it.

‘I didn’t expect my dress to clash with your hair’ Christine said as she offered me some olives.

‘Sorry. You’ll have to tell me what you plan on wearing next time and I’ll choose a different one’ I replied.

‘There’s an easy solution to that one’ Peter piped up. Christine and I looked at him.

‘Joanna takes her wig off or you take your dress off. Simple’ he said.

‘Only a man could come up with that’ Christine chided.

‘Okay, keep your hair on’ he replied, chuckling to himself.

‘How about a top-up’ Christine suggested to try to ease us back into the previous mood. Peter held out his glass and I didn’t say “no”.

We chatted some more, but after a while I noticed what I thought was Peter attempting to signal Christine about something. I wasn’t sure, but it looked like there was an undercurrent that they didn’t want me to know about. My curiosity was noticed.

‘I was just wondering if we should adjourn to the other room’ Peter said. I looked at Christine, she looked at me.

‘I hope you haven’t gone to any trouble’ I said.

‘No, nothing like that. Peter just had an idea earlier on, but I’m not sure how welcome it’ll be. His ideas at parties aren’t always well received.’

‘I’m intrigued’ I said, with a sense of dread. I tried to picture Peter with a karaoke machine. To me, that was the stuff of nightmares.

‘You could go and check on everything. Make sure it’s all ready and then come and get us’ Peter said. I wasn’t reassured by his smile. My mind started to flick through various horror scenarios. Charades? Twister? What?

Christine got up and shot Peter a glance as she left the room. He smiled at me and took a sip of his scotch. After a few moments, I saw his eyes focus behind me. I turned to see what he was looking at. My wig didn’t clash with Christine’s dress anymore because she didn’t have it on. I now knew what she’d had on under her dress: a tight black cupless corset and stockings. That was it. The neatly groomed pussy that I’d got to know only a couple of days before was now completely hairless. She’d not actually taken off her bra when she was at my house and now I got to see her boobs in their glory. They weren’t big, but they were conical, and more pert than they had any right to be. Her erect nipples were making a bid to be mistaken for dark-brown push buttons. I stared more than was polite. What was going on?

‘What?’ I uttered.

‘Would you like to come through?’ she said as if summoning a guest to a meal. I doubted that food was on the agenda. I looked at Peter and stood up. He followed me across the room. I could see a chair in the middle of the next room, with a hostess trolley next to it. The chair was sitting on a sheet of some sort, the trolley laid out with various implements. Scissors, a comb, a set of clippers, a packet of razors, a can of shaving foam. There was a camera on a tripod, pointed at the chair.

‘I told Peter about your video. I’m sorry. He thought it sounded interesting. I said I’d ask if we could borrow it, but he said he’d rather watch the process live. I’m sorry.’

‘No you’re not. Don’t say that’ Peter said sharply. ‘If she doesn’t get in the chair, you will’ he added, his tone quite purposeful. The genial host had gone, replaced by something slightly more sinister. I looked at him. looked at Christine, no possibility of modesty for her.

‘Hang on a sec. You’re saying that if I don’t sit there, you’re going to make Christine do it? What sort of sick fuck are you?’ I said indignantly. ‘I think I should go.’

‘No, please Joanna. It was a stupid idea. I should never have agreed to it.’

‘No, it’s me who should apologise’ Peter said, returning to the guy from the other room. ‘I think I got carried away with what Chris told me. This wasn’t a good idea. Shall we go back into the lounge?’

I looked at Christine. In other circumstances she would’ve looked superb, but now she looked crestfallen. I gave her a hug. A totally different hug than her outfit demanded, but it was the sort of hug that she needed.

‘I’ll call you a cab’ she said.

‘I haven’t finished my drink’ I replied.

‘Don’t feel that you need to.’

‘I’m fine, really. As long as you don’t want me to go.’

‘God no, Peter said. Please stay.’

I looked at him and then looked at Christine in all her finery. The mood had definitely changed. I walked to the camera and turned it on.

‘Ever been to one of those ‘businessman’s’ clubs, Peter?’ I asked. He looked at me a little bemused. ‘You know, the sort where half-naked ladies dance for you.’

‘Can’t say that I have’ he replied cautiously. I didn’t believe him for a second.

‘Have a seat then. Looks like you’re in luck, looking at Christine here’ I said.

He looked at both of us and sat down slowly.

‘Why don’t you show him a little something’ I suggested to her. She looked at me, not sure where this was all going.

‘You’ve heard of lap dancing, haven’t you? Just do a few shimmies and see what it does to Little Pete down there’ I said, nodding towards his crotch.

She stood in front of him, but there was no spark. No apparent interest.

‘How about you get me some wine and I’ll have a go’ I ventured. Peter perked up at this suggestion. I felt awkward, but let my hips move slowly from side to side and then turned round to stick my backside out at him. Christine came back with the bottle and fresh glasses just as I was at my closest approach, arse nearly in Peter’s lap. I tried to think like the porn actress that I hadn’t wanted to be, but so easily could’ve become. I felt a hand grab my buttock.

‘Naughty, naughty’ I chided and turned to face him. I took a glass of wine from Christine, took a big sip and then beckoned her closer. I moved my lips towards hers and kissed her, transferring the wine from my mouth to hers. I smiled at Peter and watched him looking at his half-naked wife as he’d probably never seen her before, a trickle of wine running down her chin. I lifted the hem of my dress to show him some thigh, whisking it higher for a fraction of a second to tantalise him with a flash of my delicate lace-trimmed knickers.

Keeping my skirt high, I moved really close, his knees between my legs as I straddled him. I sat down on him, his arms reaching around me to secure me. I started to grind on him. His hands started to explore, running up my back, exploring my buttocks. I thrust my chest into his face, knowing that he’d want to have me naked rather than fully clothed.

‘Want to pause for a moment and get these clothes off?’ I asked.

‘Yeah’ he said, his voice failing to conceal his excitement. I got off him and watched as he stripped. Christine moved in to unzip my dress. His cock was bigger than I would’ve expected, almost fully erect.

‘Sit’ I said. He knew that he wasn’t calling the shots now.

I looked at Christine’s hostess trolley, looked at the handcuffs that were there amongst the other implements. I pointed, Christine picked them up. I cupped my bra-covered boobs and watched while Christine eased Peter’s arms behind him and fastened his hands to the back of the chair. His cock twitched. I teased him by taking my bra off. I saw his interest piqued further by the little dumbbell through each of my nipples. He looked towards Christine, saying nothing, but with an expression informing her that she was getting hers pierced at the earliest opportunity. She looked fascinated, probably wondering how we’d never managed to see each other naked at the gym.

I slid my knickers down, pushing my bald pussy out as invitingly as I could, careful not to let him get where he wanted to be. As much as I could use a fuck, it was more important to me to torment him, rather than satisfy myself. I held out a hand to Christine and brought her close. I took her hand and guided it down to her husband’s lap so that she could feel his hardness. I leant in to kiss her, inches from her husband’s face. My other hand squeezed her bare left boob.

I eased away from the kiss and planted a kiss on Peter’s forehead. I ran my fingers through his hair.

‘Don’t you think you could do with a bit of a trim, Peter?’

Christine looked at me, apparently realising for the first time what I was doing.

‘No, I got it cut last week’ he replied.

‘They didn’t do a very good job, did they?’ I asked. I wondered whether Ruth had ever done a scene like this for one of her films.

‘I think Christine wants to have you with shorter hair. You’d like that wouldn’t you, Christine?’ I asked.

‘I’ve never thought about him with short hair’ she replied.

‘You’ve thought about Christine with short hair though, haven’t you Peter? Especially since she told you about my video. You want to cut her hair, don’t you?’ And you want to see what I look like without this wig too, don’t you? Well you can’t, because that would make you cum, and we wouldn’t want that, would we? Not just yet, anyway.’

I eased off him and invited Christine to take my place, watching as she guided him inside her. All very controversial, wife fucks husband, but there you go.

‘Now what shall we do? Maybe teach you not to take your wife for granted perhaps? What on Earth made you think that either she or I would cut our hair just because you wanted a cheap thrill?’ I chastised.

‘Please, it was wrong of me. You’re right. I shouldn’t have expected anything. I’ve got meetings with the board of this company I’m at. I’ve got to do a presentation on a rescue plan for them. I can’t do this’ he was almost begging.

‘Okay Peter, I understand. I won’t cut your hair’ I said, lowering the clippers. ‘I’ll let Christine do it’ I added, holding out the clippers towards her.

‘What do you think of that? Your wife can find out what it’s like to fuck a bald man. I’ve done it. It’s different, feeling smooth skin where there used to be hair.’ I was actually lying to him. I hadn’t actually been with anyone who was bald that I’d known with hair. Oh well, a bit of poetic licence never killed anyone.

Christine took the clippers from me, leaving my hands free to cup her boobs from behind. Peter was sitting handcuffed to a chair, straddled by his wife who was being fondled by another woman. ‘All your Christmases come at once, eh, Peter?’ I asked, reaching down between the two of them for a little feel.

I stood just behind her and to one side, where Peter could see me. I reached up and took my wig off, watching his expression as the deep red bob gave way to my dark-blonde buzz cut. He was entranced. I moved behind Christine and slipped the wig on to her head, tucking her dark hair out of sight as much as I could. I went round to look at her face-on, reaching over Peter to tweak the wig slightly. It wasn’t perfect, but in the circumstances, it was fine.

‘Just like a new woman, don’t you think Pete?’ I asked. ‘You like her with short hair, don’t you? Thrust once for “yes”, twice for “no”‘ I said. There was just the one thrust.

‘You could’ve asked her. I’m sure she would’ve done it for you, isn’t that right Christine?’ She nodded. I wondered where I was getting the confidence from to torment this guy in his own home, however temporary that might be.

I took Christine’s clipper hand and lifted it upwards, guiding the machine towards her husband’s head. I switched them on for her and looked her in the eye. I moved so that I could look at Peter, sitting there helpless with the clippers poised at his head. He looked afraid. I reached up to Christine’s motionless hand and eased the clippers out of her grip. I turned them off.

‘Not tonight’ I said. Peter looked at me with visible relief. Christine looked confused.

‘Nobody’s getting their hair cut tonight. I’ll decide if and when Christine gets her hair cut. I may even pop round unexpectedly to pick up where we’ve left off with you, mister’ I said, ruffling Peter’s hair for him. ‘Do we agree?’ I asked. There was a mumbled response from both of them as I put the clippers down and looked for my clothes. I always thought that anticipation was better than actually getting what you wanted, so I thought I’d leave them to it. I wasn’t sure if I meant what I said, but that didn’t matter.

Christine seemed in no hurry to free Peter and she accompanied me to the front door, still dressed in her minimalist underwear. ‘Thanks for a lovely evening’ I called to Peter.

‘Well, that was a night to remember’ Christine said. I smiled.

‘Keep the wig, I think he liked it’ I said, opening the door.

I dwelt on the events of that evening for a couple of weeks, wondering what to do. I knew that Peter’s contract was coming to an end and wanted to do something before they left. I talked it though with Katy on one of the few occasions that she came home for dinner, trying to think come up with something as a parting gift.

A couple of days later, I texted Christine. “I’ve made you a hair appointment?” it said simply.

She replied, we made arrangements. I gave very little away.

I picked her up the following day and we headed for town. She looked good, wearing a dress that was simple, but no doubt rather expensive. I looked at her freshly-washed hair, sleek enough for a shampoo commercial and wondered just how prepared she was for what was in store. When she’d got in the car, she’d complemented me on the longer blonde wig that I was wearing and asked about where we were going and what I’d planned. I told her that we were going to a hair salon that had been recommended to me and that we should just be brave and put ourselves in their hands to see what happened. The conversation turned to the events with Peter, with both of us laughing at the sight of him powerless on that chair. Not a position that he was accustomed to.

I led the way from the car park to the salon, which I hadn’t actually realised was on the first floor of a building, rather than at street level. I’d not been there before and if I hadn’t had the address, I’m not sure that I would’ve realised that it was a hair salon at all. It was very low key.

‘Are you sure you haven’t told them what to do?’ Christine asked just before she went in.

‘Honest, no’ I replied. ‘Just tell them that you’re thinking of a change and go with what they suggest.’

She eyed me warily, obviously trying to assess my prowess as an actress and convincing liar. She must’ve decided that I wasn’t competent at either.

At the top of the stairs I opened the door for Christine and let her go in first. She turned towards me, but then turned her attention towards the voice that greeted us.

I looked beyond her, into the salon where I could see a stylist doing a man’s hair. She was tall, in black satin trousers that looked like they were painted-on and a crop top that showed more midriff than was good for her. The eye-catching ensemble was topped off with a platinum buzzcut.

Christine had started chatting with the woman who greeted her and I came to the conversation halfway through, once I’d stopped being pre-occupied by the tableau in front of me.

‘..not sure. I think I want a change, something low-maintenance, you know’ she was explaining.

‘Well, we can see what sort of thing you fancy in a moment’ the woman replied. She was more conservatively dressed than the other stylist and if anything more attractive. Her dress was figure hugging, classy rather than brazen. Her dark hair tumbled to her shoulders.

‘I’ll be with you in a second’ the other stylist called out in my direction when she saw that the other one appeared to have taken Christine in hand. I smiled at her and tried to look over Christine’s shoulder now that she’d been furnished with several style books.

‘So, easy maintenance? Short? Very short?’ the stylist asked, taking the opportunity to run her fingers through Christine’s chocolate hair while she flicked through the pages. From what I could see, the styles were all conventional, some short, but nothing extreme. I looked at her hair. It really was lovely the way that the ends were curled ever-so slightly under so that they teased the bare skin of her neck. The scalloped neck of the dress made it easy.

‘I don’t know’ Christine replied. ‘I’m open to suggestions’ she said, mindful of what I’d said to her before we came in.

I hadn’t really paid too much attention to what was going on at the other end of the salon, but I felt the man brush past me on his way to the door.

‘What do you think, Katy?’ the stylist asked the younger woman who had started to tidy up around her chair.

‘About?’ she asked, walking towards us.

‘We’re looking for a change, easy to look after. Short, maybe very short’ the stylist recounted, stroking her fingers through Christine’s hair while she talked.

‘Got to be very short’ the bleached stylist replied. ‘How about like mine’ she ventured, addressing Christine directly.

‘That’s short’ Christine observed, emphasising the word “short”.

‘Could you see yourself that short?’ the stylist behind her asked.

‘I don’t think so’ Christine replied. She looked at me.

‘Well, I need to see what I can do for your friend here, so if you’d like to go with Katy, she’ll look after you’ the older stylist said. Christine looked at me aghast.

‘But, I thought…’ she began, realising that the potential for a mature, conservative approach had just become the rashness of youth.

‘Katy knows just what will suit you’ the woman said, holding out a hand in the direction of the other stylist’s work station.

Christine walked away reluctantly, leaving me with the other stylist. We both watched her go. She sat down and settled into the chair as the young stylist swung a crimson gown over her, fastening it at the neck. The stylist held Christine’s head in both hands like a football for a moment and then reached to one side. She picked up some clippers.

‘Head down for me’ I heard her say. The consultation and style books of a few moments ago were apparently of no interest to her.

Christine turned towards me, a concerned look on her face. The stylist touched the back of Christine’s head and moved it forward, so that Christine was looking in to her own lap. The quiet of the salon was broken by electronic humming. I thought that I heard Christine gasp as the clippers ran from her nape and up the back of her head. The stylist made it easier for us to see what she’d done by repeating the action. Even from a distance, I could see that there was a wide expanse of skin up the back of Christine’s head. This was no buzzcut, it was a full-on headshave. There was no sound from Christine and I just watched, thinking how much more sexy it was to watch her here than when we were at her house with her husband. I couldn’t look away as the stylist moved the clippers round to the side of Christine’s head and made short work of the hair in front of her ear. The clippers arced upwards and backwards, creating a side-cut to go with the shaved back. Then they were at her forehead and drove backwards. An arm went round my waist. I turned and smiled at Ruth and said ‘Thank you for doing this’ quietly.

‘Let’s take this off shall we?’ she said, sliding the zip down on my dress.

‘I wouldn’t have recognised you, if I hadn’t known it was you’ I told her.

‘New wig’ she replied, turning her back so that I could return the favour.

‘Where are the cameras?’

‘Everywhere’ she replied. ‘Martin did a great job setting this place up for us.

‘Is he coming back?’ I asked, referring to the guy who was her when we arrived. He’d played his part so well.

‘In a minute’ she replied as I eased her dress off her shoulders. She was wearing a full black lingerie set: bra, knickers, garter belt, stockings, the lot. She stepped out of her dress, high heels still on. This was a woman who meant business. I was feeling completely out-done, standing there in a new bra and pants set that would have normally been a winner. Not today, not next to Ruth. I took my long-blonde wig off. It had served its purpose. She rubbed a hand over my bristly scalp.

Katy was making sure that she’d done as complete a job as possible, going over and over Christine’s revealed scalp with the clippers. I was still trying to make my mind up as to whether I liked Katy’s hair like that. She’d come home with it on a whim. She’d left in the morning with hair that you could grab hold of and come home with a skilfully cut, bleached-out buzzcut. It was a normal mother’s reaction, but of little concern in the light of some of the things that I’d seen her do. She was trying to get established more in the admin side of Ruth’s business now, but was always happy to help out if they needed an extra pair of tits on set. I looked forward to the day when she didn’t do it anymore, but it was up to her.

The other thing that I struggled with to some extent was that not long after Martin and I broke up, Katy announced that she was going out with him. I’d had qualms about him being too close to the porn business, but that didn’t deter her. I got the impression that she didn’t see a long-term future in the relationship and that she was just using him to get a head-start in her business career, but he didn’t seem to mind. The one thing that troubled me was that I knew only too well exactly what he’d be doing to my daughter when they had a quiet night in. No need for me to imagine it, it was just a case of remembering.

Ruth walked away from me and towards the styling chair, her heels clicking on the floor as she strutted purposefully. Christine was torn between looking at her ravaged reflection and looking to see what was approaching. Katy unfastened the gown and urged Christine to stand up. Christine was looking towards Ruth now, the penny finally dropping that she wasn’t in a normal salon. She let Katy slide the zip down on her dress and didn’t object when Katy eased it off her shoulders, hands roaming and exploring as the material descended.

‘Hello again, Christine’ Ruth purred. ‘I’m going to shave you properly. Would you like that?’

Christine was silent, probably still trying to comprehend the full impact of what had happened since we climbed those stairs and came in. Katy undid the clasp on Christine’s bra and moved to slide her knickers down before the bra had had the chance to fall away from Christine’s body.

Ruth reached out a hand and cupped the underside of Christine’s right boob, letting her fingers slide across the skin to the nipple. She ran the tip of her index finger around the nipple and asked Christine to sit. There was no gown this time, Christine would be on show for all to see on the video, just as I had been. I saw her cross her arms to preserve her modesty, but an expert caress from Ruth removed the obstruction. Christine folded her hands in her lap and awaited her fate.

I knew how good it felt to have Ruth spread shaving foam over your freshly-shaved scalp, knew that Christine would be wet from Ruth’s touch. Ruth took a step back to assess the task in front of her and I only wished that I was closer to the action. I wanted to be closer, but didn’t want to intrude. I would wait to watch the video to get the full impact of her expression and changing appearance. Christine’s head was smothered with shaving cream in preparation, but then Ruth paused.

‘Katy, would you be a dear?’ Ruth said. I wondered what she wanted, but saw Katy reach up to Ruth’s head and ease the wig away. It was a glorious sight.

Ruth was completely bald, in black lingerie and high heels, poised with a razor in her hand. At that moment, I couldn’t imagine anything sexier.

She started near Christine’s forehead, leaving her in no doubt that this was really happening. Christine was going home to Peter as bald as I had been.

What would he say? Knowing that she’d done it without him being present would torment him, probably annoy him more than if I had shaved his head for him that evening. I smiled at the thought. Ruth continued her work and I was torn between just watching her and watching her shave my friend. I heard the door open quietly behind me. Martin was back. I felt his hand on my backside.

‘Hello gorgeous’ he whispered in my ear.

‘I’m your future mother-in-law, you can’t do that’ I said with a chuckle.

‘MILF’ he whispered, knowing how much I hated it when he used it about me. He squeezed once more and then took his hand away. I thought that was it, but the fingers at the clasp of my bra said otherwise. I let it fall, catching it before it hit the ground. Ruth was almost finished and I sensed movement from behind me. I looked round to see that Martin had picked up a bale of towels and was poised. He was in character, waiting for his cue. That came when Ruth asked to Christine to move across to the basin to be rinsed off.

Christine sat down and reclined towards the basin, guided by Ruth’s light touch on the back of her head. Christine went back until her neck nestled in the basin notch. Martin moved away from me, carrying his towels.

‘Where do you want these towels?’ he asked as he neared the basin. Christine tensed visibly, apparently unaware that there was a man in the salon while she was reclined naked. She’d kept her knees together modestly, but most of what she’d got was on display anyway. It was one thing to be exposed like that in front of other scantily clad women, it was quite another when there was a hunky man about.

‘Just put them down there’ Ruth said, nodding towards Christine’s feet.

Martin put the towels down and then pulled one free so that he could kneel on it. Christine’s mind was probably working overtime trying to work out where he was, what he was doing, but the hand on the inside of each of her knees told her all that she needed to know. He eased her legs open. I heard her sigh. I touched myself as he moved his head forward.

‘Oh’ she uttered as he made contact. I couldn’t have put it better myself as my fingertip made contact with my own sweet spot. Ruth was massaging Christine’s scalp, Martin was licking her pussy and Christine’s concerns about being bald were probably a million miles away by now. I could see Katy the other side of the salon, just inside a doorway, watching her boyfriend in action. I knew how she must feel, even though Martin always insisted that it was just work.

Martin stood up and tugged his shirt over his head while Ruth finished rinsing Christine’s head. A towel dabbed water from her scalp as Martin stepped out of his trousers. Ruth eased Christine up and away from the basin, coming round to the side, where she urged Christine to get up and then to kneel on the seat. Christine knew what was coming and braced herself, more concerned about the glimpse she’d had of what was about to skewer her than her razor-smooth scalp. I remembered the first time Martin slid inside me, wondering how it was possible for it all to go in, but go in it did, just as it was now crossing the threshold into Christine.

I heard the sharp intake of breath, but knew that Martin was considerate. He’d get it all in, but he’d take his time about it. His hands were on her hips, his buttocks taut as he pressed further home. I’d taken off my knickers by this point to give myself unrestricted access. I couldn’t resist, ignored whatever script that Ruth might have had, and walked towards the action. I saw Ruth nod to me from the sidelines, allowing me to move in more confidently. I trailed a finger over the buttocks that I knew so well and let it go round to Christine’s backside. My fingertip ran up her spine, up her neck and then I ran the flat of my hand over her baldness. She turned her head to look up at me, but I filled her field of vision with my lower belly, pressing myself into her face.

When we were at my house watching the film and things got out of hand, we’d called a halt before she’d been able to get up close and personal with me. This was her chance to put that right and the tip of her tongue probing my slit was just what I needed. Well, I needed more, but she was restricted in what she could do right at that time. Martin showed his appreciation for the side show, pressing fully home for the first time. The sensation of a cock so deep inside her was a bonus for me, her tongue darting out and sliding through my folds.

I saw Katy come to the other side of Christine, her own clothes somewhere else. I smiled at her, unable to stop myself from looking at her pierced nipples.

I had a flashback to the day when we chose nipple jewellery for each other in the shop, egging each other on to go with bigger pieces. Her index finger beckoned me, but I wasn’t sure what she meant until I saw the cordless clippers in her hand.

She knew that I wasn’t really intending to shave my head again, but the circumstances demanded otherwise. I leaned over Christine’s compressed form like Katy wanted, just hoping that there was a camera that would capture the scene: Christine kneeling, being fucked from behind, naked woman on one side of her, leaning across to let another naked woman on the other side shave her head.

I was looking down at Christine’s spine, watching her breathing become more pronounced when the first clump of my blonde hair fell on to her. I smiled. I may not have been the most willing shavee at this point, but it had to be done. I felt Katy run the clippers across my crown a couple more times, but then they went away. I could still hear them, but before I could look up to see what the delay was, there was a flurry of tiny white bristles joining my own darker tufts on Christine’s back. I looked up to see Katy drawing the clippers across her scalp once more. The little piles of our hair on Christine’s back were starting to move, jumping with each of Martin’s increasingly enthusiastic thrusts. The joint shaving was having an effect on him. I wondered if it was a spur of the moment thing or they’d somehow planned it like this. I’d have to ask her when sanity returned.

Katy moved round to my side of the chair, the novelty of the initial approach having worn off. It was more efficient to be standing the way that we were now. She ran the clippers up the side of my head, smiling at me as she let them run. I patted the bald patch on the top of her head, caressing it like a treasured pet. She shaved, I stroked. I gasped when I felt fingers touch my mound. She smiled at me. I looked deep into her eyes while what must’ve been the back of her index finger ran tantalisingly across my lower belly.

‘Ssshh’ she said quietly. She stroked until she needed me to turn round so that she could do the back of my head. I felt pressure on my shoulders as she urged me to bend forward and lean on the edge of the counter. Then I felt a hand between my legs, urging me to spread. That was taking things to another level entirely, but I let it happen. I turned to look at Katy to let her know that I was okay with it, but she held up both hands in a gesture of innocence.

My new admirer had to be Ruth, unless someone else was in the salon. I breathed a sigh of relief and gasped all at the same time as a dildo slid inside me.

Ruth gripped me round my middle and clasped her hands in front of me. I was being fucked with a strap-on in front of my daughter, who’d switched the clippers on again to complete the job of shaving her own head. Somewhere in the background, Christine was cumming. I didn’t care. I was nearly in the same place myself. Ruth thrust harder and harder, squeezing my tits now. Something made me reach out and squeeze Katy’s left boob. The skin and the metal felt good, even though it was so wrong. She raised her eyebrows at me, her free hand dropping between her legs as she fixed my gaze. A finger disappeared, then a second. It was so wrong. I came.

Ruth withdrew and I stood up, turning to watch Katy lean against the edge of a styling station, legs splayed, everything on display She was watching Ruth approach her, the menacing black cock leading the way. Ruth paused in front of Katy and looked at me, expectantly, apparently ignoring my recent exertions.

I wondered for a moment what she wanted me to do and then realised. I looked at her, looked at Katy and took hold of the black thing and guided it inside my daughter, watching her expression as she took it all in. Not so long ago, I’d been a regular mum, concerned at my daughter’s life choices and now here I was, helping another woman pleasure her with a contraption that belonged in a porn film. Katy maintained eye contact with me all the while that Ruth’s shapely hips were thrusting in and out. There was no tenderness, no kissing or caressing, it was almost bestial in its simplicity. I was watching my daughter being fucked, not for the first time and probably not for the last, but the first time like this. Ruth was clearly impatient, her thrusts becoming more insistent. Katy was almost lifted off her feet with each one, but she didn’t stop looking at me. Ruth was almost panting with the effort and then it paid off. Katy squealed and Ruth Pressed home one final time before turning to smile at me in triumph. I saw her in a different light, but couldn’t deny that it had turned me on to watch her in full flight. She eased the cock out of Katy and walked away without a word.

I squeezed Katy’s shoulder and surveyed the room. It was so decadent looking round at three naked women, one still in lingerie with a wicked looking black cock sticking out and then Martin, the only guy and the only person in the room with hair. There was something fitting about that. Christine was sitting in the chair now, flushed, bald, beautiful. I smiled at her.

‘Hate me?’ I asked.

‘I don’t think so’ she replied. She slid forward on the chair, opened her legs and looked at me. ‘That’s what happiness looks like’ she said.

The clean up didn’t take long, although I couldn’t wait to get home to get into the shower to do the job properly. Ruth promised to get the footage edited as quickly as possible and with that Christine and I left the salon. We walked back to the car arm in arm, like young lovers, while I told her all about getting in touch with Ruth, finding out that she was using a friend’s salon for her hair shoots now and of course, told her all about Martin, Katy and me.

As we got in the car, I thought back to the start of our journey when I’d wondered what she’d think after the event. I genuinely didn’t know in advance what was in store for her or for me, although I wasn’t surprised. She’d looked beautiful and classy before and I thought that she still did. When we got to Christine’s house, she invited me in. I said that all I wanted was to jump in the shower. She raised her eyebrows and that said it all.

In no time, we were both in her shower, lathering each other, exploring.

‘you need to do something about this, she said, rubbing the last vestiges of stubble on my scalp. I’d wanted to get home, so had declined Katy’s offer to shave me properly in the salon. Christine stepped up to the plate.

She had a wonderful touch, standing behind me in the shower, lathering my head, shaving it with gentle strokes, pausing periodically to press her body against mine. The whole thing was wonderful, but made me sad that within days, she and Peter would have moved on to his next job. I’m not sure how things would’ve worked, but at the very least she would’ve been a wonderful friend. The shaving done, she rinsed me off and opened the shower door for me. Once out, she wrapped me in a giant bath sheet and patted me dry, kissing and nibbling as she went. I took every opportunity to stroke her bald head, trailing my tongue over the soft skin whenever she was within range.

I returned the favour, enjoying her fingers on my scalp. Maybe I should just stay bald, covering up with a wig when I need to. I finished what needed to be done and let the towel drop. I stood slowly from a crouching position, not letting my tongue break contact with her skin from thigh to mouth, pausing at places of interest along the way. We kissed, we tumbled into the bedroom, intertwined somehow where she pushed me dramatically to the bed and spread my legs. What once would’ve embarrassed me, just aroused me now. I could’ve sat in front of her like that all day. She stood and stared at me for a few moments before she knelt before me. I watched her bald head approach, watching the partial eclipse of her scalp grow as she made her final approach. Her tongue darted forward once and then she devoured me as if pussy was the only thing that would sustain her and she’d been starved of it for a long time. I needed to grab hair and pull her in, but there was none, thanks to me. I pressed the back of her head, completing the seal with my pussy and just closed my eyes.

We both heard the front door. Paul was home. His wife was eating another woman’s pussy. What do you do?

‘I’ll be down in a minute’ she called out, responding to his ‘Hi, honey, I’m home’.

She smiled at me. ‘Can I borrow your wig?’ she asked.

‘It’s in my handbag’ I replied. ‘Downstairs.’

‘Shit’ she replied, getting up off the bed.

‘I can go down and get it.’

‘He’ll see you.’

‘So?’

I got up, kissed her briefly and put my dress on. Now wasn’t the time for underwear. I went downstairs and thought that I’d made it unnoticed when Paul closed the fridge door and saw me.

‘Joanna! What a lovely surprise’ he said, his eyes feasting on my bald head. ‘You look gorgeous’ he added.

‘Thank you’ I replied.

‘Christine just wanted my advice on a new outfit’ I muttered.

‘Something nice’ I hope.

‘I think you’ll like it. She’ll be down in a minute.

‘Listen, about last time you were here. I was a bit of a dick. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’

He paused.

‘I was wondering, if maybe you and I could, you know, get together sometime.’

‘You’re leaving in a couple of days.’

‘I know. Before I go.’

‘What would you like us to do?’ I teased

‘I thought it might be good to finish what we started’ he replied.

‘Do you now? And what about Christine?’

‘She doesn’t have to know.’

‘That’s nice of you’ I replied sarcastically. I decided that I didn’t really like him very much.

‘Not a good idea?’

‘Not going to happen’ I told him. ‘I’m not going behind her back, but if you’re quick, be my guest’ I said, turning my back on him and hiking my dress to show him my naked backside. Even after everything that I’d done so far, I still wanted a cock to round things off and his would do. I bent forward to brace myself against the edge of the kitchen table, laying out an imaginary ‘Welcome’ mat.

‘Now?’ he asked, incredulously.

‘Now or never’ I said, looking back at him invitingly.

He was already hard. I was already wet. He slid inside me, possibly a little easier than usual, thanks to Ruth and her black plastic cock earlier. He made funny noises as he started to pump in and out.

‘There you are’ Christine said from behind us. Peter stopped mid-thrust, startled.

‘Don’t stop on my account’ she said. He hadn’t looked round. I heard heels on the tiled floor as she walked. She was at his side. He was still. She moved into his field of vision. She was bald, all plans for a more elaborate unveiling clearly having fallen by the wayside. She’d put on a scarlet and black corset and stockings. Just like the one she wore before, this was cupless, allowing those beautiful boobs their freedom. Peter was trying to take it all in.

‘Go on Pete, fuck her. Fuck her while you look at me. Me, the corporate wife with the perfect hair that you left at home this morning. While you’ve been in your meetings, I’ve been shaved and fucked, what do you think about that?’

Payback time!

Peter couldn’t control himself, he started to buck, pushing me and the table a couple of inches closer to Christine. He managed five or six and then I felt him tense. The sight of Christine hairless was too much for him. I felt him slump and I wiggled my backside to let him know that his time was up. He withdrew and I stood up, easing my dress back where it belonged. I looked at Christine, still playing the part of the scorned wife who’d caught her man mid-infidelity.

‘Sit’ she commanded.

We’d been here before, but this time I knew that the ending would be different. Peter manoeuvred himself to a chair, his trousers caught round his ankles.

He sat, Christine approached, the previously unseen clippers raised to show her intent.

‘Would you like to touch?’ she invited, dipping her head towards him. He reached up and touched his fingertips to her naked scalp. He stroked her and then she stood up straight, moving behind him. There was no delay, no tease, just a furrow across the top of his head, the skin of his scalp making its presence felt. She was good with the clippers, almost as if she’d used them before. She didn’t hesitate, she just stripped his head of its well-tended covering, inducting her husband into her new world while he sat speechless.

I looked at him, his corporate image shed, some of his confidence gone with it. I slipped out of my dress and leant against the edge of the table, leading with my bald pussy. I stroked myself, feeling his eyes wash over me, eager for every detail.

‘I want to do something for Christine’ I said. His expression changed. He was baffled. I held a hand out to him. He reached out and took it. The pressure of my hand indicated to him that he needed to kneel. More pressure indicated that I wanted him to lie down.

‘I want you to understand that you need to have a little bit more respect for your wife’ I said looking down on him. ‘Every time you want to belittle her in some way, I want you to think about this’ I said. I squatted over his face and listened to him splutter as I let go. I looked at Christine whose shock turned to delight at the thought that I was doing it for her. I squeezed out the last drops and was just about to apologise to Christine for making a mess on her kitchen floor when she moved towards us. She looked down at Peter, marinating in my piss and squatted herself. I stroked her scalp as she re-enforced the message. Things had changed in their household.

Christine stood up and knowing that Peter was watching every move, leant in and gave me the dirtiest, sexiest, tongue swallowing kiss that I could remember. It went on for ages, her fingers sliding inside me, dipping in to her husband’s cum. She ended the kiss, turned to let her husband see and licked her fingers slowly. There seemed to be no stopping her now as she squatted over his face again, pressing home the new reality to the point that I was concerned as to whether he could breath. I crouched behind her, squeezing those superb pointy tits, stroking her head, caressing her wherever I could. I probably wouldn’t get another chance, so I wanted to make the most of it. Eventually her knees told her that Peter had had enough and she stood up, still resplendent in her corset and stockings.

Peter was looking shell-shocked and I decided that it was time to go.

‘Do you want a shower first?’ Christine asked.

‘I tried that and look what happened. I got really dirty!’ I laughed. She smiled her understanding and let me get my things.

For the second time, she walked me to the front door wearing lingerie that failed to cover anything important.

‘Who cares what the neighbours think. We’ll be gone in a couple of days’ she said with a smile.

I told her how sad I was at that thought, how much fun I’d had with her. I rubbed her scalp.

‘It really suits you, you know’ I told her.

‘I’ll dine out on everything that’s happened today for a very long time’ she laughed.

‘Oh, I nearly forgot’ I said opening my handbag. ‘I got these for both of you as a going-away present.’

I handed her the little box and watched as she opened it. She looked at me.

‘You’ll have to have them fitted yourself, but he’ll love them’ I said, nodding towards the kitchen where Peter probably still lay on the floor. I tweaked her nipple as she took one of the rings out of the box and held it in place.

‘Beautiful’ I told her. Anyway, text me your email address and I’ll get the film to you so that you don’t forget anything’ I said.

We gave each other a chaste peck on the cheek, but I couldn’t resist slipping a sly finger inside her as my final gesture. She slapped my hand away chastely. ‘I’m a respectable married woman, I’ll have you know’ she said.

The front door opened. The front door closed. I walked away from the most fun that I’d had for a long time, knowing that I needed to book a session at the gym as soon as possible.

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