Charity Begins At Home

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‘So how did it go?’ Paul asked when I went into the kitchen.

I’d just got in after spending hours on my feet and I was dying for some tea.

‘Interesting’ I replied, filling the kettle.

‘Interesting, how?’

‘Just that people can be so generous when it comes to people they’ve never met.’

‘You knew that when you went.’

‘Well’ the other thing was there was this guy standing right at the front badgering me to get in the chair too.’

‘I hope he was offering a lot of money.’

‘He was. It got to the point though where it was awkward. A bit pervy, you know.’

‘So why didn’t you do it to raise the extra cash?’

‘I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction and I had to think of you. What would you say if I came home with all my hair shaved off?’

‘It’d be for a good cause.’

‘So you wouldn’t have minded?’ I asked, looking at him slightly bemused.

‘Like I said, it’d be for a good cause. After all, you’re happy enough to shave other women’s heads, aren’t you?’

‘That’s different. It’s all part of the job.’

He shrugged and carried on cutting vegetables.

I wished that the kettle would hurry up and boil, thinking back over the events of the charity “do” that I’d done that afternoon. The owner of the salon that I worked at was a cancer survivor and she did whatever she could to raise money for various charities. For the past few years, she’d supplied stylists from the salon to do haircuts at fundraisers and she’d asked me to help out this year. I’d not done anything like that before, but I was happy to help.

Happy, that was, until the perv locked on to me. There were two other stylists there, but he came and stood in front of me, making comments and suggestions. I think that he was responsible for me doing fewer cuts than the other two. He put people off, although from what I could see, everyone that intended to do it went through with it, they just waited for one of the others rather than me. He did seem to have a thing about seeing me get my head shaved, but I couldn’t fathom why that would interest him. He kept increasing the amount of money on offer, and I kept refusing, finding it more and more difficult each time. The charity would certainly have a good use for what he was offering, but I just couldn’t bring myself to fuel his sick fantasy or whatever it was.

Apart from the fact that the guy was creepy, I kept thinking about Paul and how he would react to me coming home with my head shaved. I had a good head of thick, dark hair that one of the other girls kept in a sharp bob for me. It got me a lot of compliments and Paul certainly enjoyed giving it a pull during our more intense private moments. His reaction had surprised me. He didn’t seem that bothered if I did it or not. I couldn’t let that pass.

‘Just so we’re clear here, are you saying that you don’t like my hair?’ I challenged.

He turned to look at me, putting the vegetable knife down for a moment.

‘It’s fine’ he replied.

‘Wow, you like it that much’ I said sarcastically.

‘You know what I mean.’

‘But you wouldn’t object if I shaved it off, is that what you’re saying?’

‘I don’t know what I’m saying’ he replied. ‘Why?’

‘I didn’t do it because I was thinking what you would say. Now you say that you wouldn’t mind.’

‘But you didn’t do it.’

‘Would you have wanted me to? I asked, exasperated.

‘If it would’ve raised a lot of money’ he replied.

‘Thanks for making me feel mean.’ He came over and hugged me.

I made my tea and took it into the lounge.

Dinner was quiet, the rest of the evening quieter still.

It took us a couple of days to get back to normal, even though nothing more was said on the subject.

Tuesday was the first day back in the salon after the event and all the talk was about my “admirer” at the charity event. I tried my hardest to dissuade them, but in the end I decided just to keep quiet in the hope that it would all blow over. It took a couple of days, but thankfully there was a high-profile celebrity scandal that displaced me as the number one topic of conversation. Despite that, I was wary whenever I left the salon, in case that guy was a bit more persistent than I would like, but thankfully his interest hadn’t followed me.

The major advantage of working in a salon is that you don’t need to call to make an appointment to get your hair done. There are plenty of quiet times and even if it’s busy, one of us is always willing to stay behind for a colleague.

It had been a month since I’d had my bob freshened up and it was starting to show. I went to reception and checked the book to see what the afternoon looked like. It was busy, but Ally had a slot just before closing. I pencilled my name in just as my next client was walking through the door.

About mid-afternoon, Ally came across the salon, looking concerned.

‘One of my regulars has just phoned. Julie gave her your slot’ she said, with an apologetic expression

‘Don’t worry. I’ll get another one.’

‘Was it for a special occasion? Going out somewhere?’

‘No, more’s the pity. Just need a tidy-up, that’s all.’

‘I don’t mind staying.’

‘Don’t be silly, it’s no big deal’ I replied, touching her arm gently. She smiled and walked away.

It wasn’t the first time that it had happened and we always accepted that we would get bumped if there was a paying customer who wanted in. I thought nothing more about it, apart from to write myself a mental note to put something in the book on my way out.

I cleared my last customer and tidied up, heading upstairs to get my things. The owner was in the office and we got chatting about this and that. She thanked me for giving up my time for the charity and said that she hoped that I’d volunteer again. We talked longer than I’d expected and when I went back downstairs, there was only Ally and her customer left. Ally was blow-drying her and switched the drier off when she saw me.

‘I thought you’d gone’ she said.

‘No, I was talking to Irene’ I replied, ready to smile a “goodnight”.

‘I’ll be two minutes’ she said.

I looked at her blankly and then realised what she meant. ‘No, don’t worry, we’ll do it tomorrow.’

‘Honest, take your coat off, we’ll do it now.’

‘Okay, I shrugged and went to make her a cup of tea. I went to a basin and washed my hair while I waited for the kettle to boil. No point in wasting time when we both had homes to go to.

By the time I was back, the customer had gone and Ally was sweeping the floor. She was pleased to see the tea.

‘I need that’ she said gratefully.

‘I really don’t mind doing this tomorrow’ I said.

‘Don’t be daft, jump in’ she said, nodding towards the chair.

I decided that I’d given her enough opportunities to back out and picked a gown off the rack, slipping it on before sitting down. I put my tea on the ledge in front of me and looked round to see how near Ally was to joining me. She was just putting the broom away.

‘Did Irene tell you my news?’ Ally asked as she walked towards me. I instinctively looked at her midriff, not as subtly as I thought. She smiled. ‘No, I’m not’ she countered.

‘She didn’t tell me anything about anything’ I said, trying not to jump to any more conclusions.

‘I’m switching to the barbershop’ she said with a smile.

‘I wasn’t expecting that’ I replied, trying to gain some time to look for any traps within those few words.

‘I had a blast at that charity thing and just thought that it’s so much easier than this. The guys are grateful for a bit of chat, so I thought it would make a change.’

‘It’s only temporary, right?’

‘Maybe, maybe not. Irene said she’ll wait and see what happens before she gets anyone else in here. To be honest, I think she thinks we’re slacking a bit.’

‘Who’s going to do my hair?’ I asked, selfishly. She was rubbing my damp hair gently with a towel as we talked.

‘I’ll still do it, but you might have to come down to George Street, that’s all.’

‘And sit in with all those crusty old boys?’

‘They’re not all crusty. There’s some fit ones too. Eve says she’s spoiled for choice down there.’

‘She’s not very choosy though, is she?’ I observed with a smile.

‘Maybe not, but there could be one for me, who knows?’

‘I can just see you hanging off the arm of some old boy with a pipe and walking stick’ I chuckled.

‘You can talk. What about that guy at the charity shave who took a shine to you? I’m sure he looks really sexy in the right knitwear’ she replied with a dirty laugh.

‘He was just lonely’ I said charitably.

‘Horny’ more like.

‘Happens to us all’ I countered, wondering why I felt like defending the guy all of a sudden. You had to hand it to him though, at least he’d ventured out from his bedroom and was prepared to engage with a real-life woman. Not that I’d want to shake his hand, of course!

‘So, if he caught you at the right moment, you would, is that it?’

I burst out laughing. ‘You’re disgusting’ I said, reaching for my tea.

‘I can be’ she replied, taking a sip of her own drink. ‘Anyway, enough banter. Let’s get this hair sorted, shall we?’ she said, rubbing her hand across the back of my head. I put my cup down.

‘Sure’ I replied, settling back into my seat.

‘How about we pretend we’re down at George Street?’ she suggested. I looked at her, not quite sure what she meant. ‘Take you short, how about it?’ she suggested, tilting her head to one side.

‘Jeez, you’re taking this all very much to heart, aren’t you? A couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon and you’re a different person.’

‘I just fancied a change. Thought you might, too’ she replied, a hand on the back of my head again.

‘All this from someone who thinks she’s Vidal Sassoon when she gives me a trim.’

‘Yeah, well. Been there, done that, now I want to simplify things. Anyway, what did Paul say when you told him about that guy?’

‘He said that he wouldn’t have minded if I’d cut my hair.’

‘That’s settled then. He’s fine with it, so why not?’

‘I don’t know that I want to change just yet. I like it like this’ I replied, stroking a hand through my hair.

‘You’d get to like something different too.’ she said.

I thought about what she’d said. She was right, I’d had it in the same style for quite a while, so maybe it was time to do something different. What was stopping me?

Paul obviously wasn’t against it, although he hadn’t made the sort of noises to suggest that he actually wanted me to do it. Maybe that was just him though, keeping his own counsel. He’d let me know if there was something that he didn’t like, but he rarely volunteered an opinion about things that he would like, whether it was something different that he wanted for dinner or something that he wanted to try in the bedroom department.

‘Possibly, but I’m fine with this for now’ I replied.

‘Suit yourself. We’ll do it when you come to George Street.’

‘Do what?’

‘Streamline your life.’

‘Who says that I’d go to George Street. I’m surrounded by hairdressers here without leaving the shop.’

‘You wouldn’t abandon me, surely’ she said with a pout. I smiled at her.

‘I might have to, if you don’t do what I want you to do.’

‘So what have I got to do to convince you to get rid of this?’

‘I’ll think about it, but let’s just do a trim for now, shall we?’ I said, starting to get a little exasperated by her enthusiasm to cut my hair off.

‘Sure? You could be on your way home to Paul in a couple of minutes, all short and sexy.’

‘I could be on my way home right now, unchanged and sexy’ I replied, tetchier than I’d intended. She looked at me, a little surprised.

‘Okay, you win’ she said.

She combed my hair through and trimmed the ends in silence. She couldn’t have taken less off if she’d tried. It was the most minimalist trim that anyone could possibly do and certainly wasn’t worth the time that either of us spent. I replayed our conversation in my head while she did whatever she was doing, trying to work out how it had taken a wrong turn that had left us barely speaking. She blow-dried it and primped it a little before deciding that she was finished.

‘That’s great, thank you’ I said, trying to put as much warmth into my smile as I could.

‘You’re welcome’ she replied with a touch of insincerity.

I got out of the chair and took the gown off before hugging her. ‘Thank you. See you tomorrow’ I said.

‘No you won’t, that’s me done here’ she replied.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I wanted to take a couple of days off before I start down the road.’

‘Ally! Why didn’t you say? We must go for a drink’

‘Yeah, but not tonight, I’m meeting someone.’

I wasn’t sure if she was or not. Maybe she just wanted to get away from me.

‘I’ll ring you then’ I said.

‘Great’ she replied with little indication of enthusiasm.

A friendship lay in tatters on the ground as I left the salon. I was annoyed and disappointed. I went home and the only comment that I got was ‘You’re late.’ Not a word about my hair, but then I’d have struggled myself to tell that it had been cut. Fabulous!

It was weird in the salon without Ally. I was annoyed with myself for not sorting out whatever it was that had gone wrong between us before I left, but it was too late for that. I sent her a text to wish her luck in her new job, but didn’t get a reply from her. As the days went by, people stopped asking whether I’d heard from her and I decided that I needed to do something, otherwise I’d never forgive myself for losing a friend that way.

My day off was Wednesday that week, so I got myself ready in the morning and headed into town. I wasn’t entirely sure whether she’d welcome me just turning up unannounced and wasn’t sure whether she would just be able to drop everything and get out for a quick coffee or not. I found my way to the salon, or shop or whatever you call the place when it’s for guys. I was nervous for some reason as I got closer, worried in some way that she wouldn’t have reached the same place as me, wondering what had actually happened between us.

I was on the other side of the street and looked across the road to see if I could see her. I could see a guy at first and then behind him, there was a female form, standing behind a chair. She was busy. I could see a couple of guys sitting waiting. Probably not a good time for a social call. I carried on walking and went to get coffee, even though it hadn’t been that long since I’d had breakfast.

I sat in the coffee shop and stared at the patterns that had been expertly etched into the froth of my drink. What a waste of effort, I thought eventually. I thought back to the last time Ally and I spoke. How she’d wanted to cut my hair and how it had all gone horribly wrong. I still wasn’t sure quite why she’d felt so strongly. I hadn’t really got anything against cutting it, but the way that she’d gone about it just rubbed me up the wrong way. I thought about what Paul had said about me shaving it for charity and how he took so little interest that he hadn’t noticed when Ally did actually cut it. I drained my cup and headed for the door. I retraced my steps and did a “walk-by” of the barber shop again. Both styling chairs were occupied and there was one person waiting. I walked past and then turned on my heel. It could take all day if I waited for the shop to be empty, so I may as well go in and see if she could pop out for a coffee. I didn’t know the other barber, but I’m sure that he would cover for her for a few minutes.

The door hit an old fashioned bell as I opened it, so that there was no chance of anyone entering unnoticed. The guy who was waiting didn’t flinch, but both stylists turned to look to see who had come in. The barber smiled at me, looking slightly perplexed, almost as if he was about to ask whether I was in the right place. I smiled at Ally, although the other barber was welcome to interpret it as partly belonging to him as it went past. Her smile was almost nervous, certainly not welcoming.

‘Take a seat, one of us’ll be with you in a minute’ the barber said.

‘I’m just in to see Ally’ I replied.

‘We just operate on “whoever’s free” basis’ he replied.

‘It’s okay, I’ll wait” I said, deciding that I couldn’t be bothered to prolong the exchange. I tried to smile at Ally, but she’d turned her attention back to her client.

It turned out that Ally finished first, much to the apparent relief of the customer who’d been waiting. I could see why Ally had decided to try this out for a while.

It may be a little seedy, but there was a genuine desire to get in the chair, not that I could see myself doing what she was doing. I watched her settle the guy in and chat to him easily. I could see that he was a little awkward, although he didn’t seem like someone who was unused to being in close proximity to women. He was good looking enough, not drop-dead gorgeous, but he’d do. I watched her get him gowned and then chat to him about what he wanted. I hadn’t noticed that the other barber had finished and was brushing his client off. He shot a glance at me before turning his attention back to his customer. The customer dug his wallet out of his pocket and slid the barber a folded note, leaving without waiting for change. The door opened and closed. The barber looked at me.

‘Jump in’ he said, flicking the cape.

‘It’s okay, thanks. I’m just waiting for Ally. We used to work together up the road’ I said.

‘I’ll be a while’ Ally chipped in. ‘Brian’s good’ she said. She’d done her best to ignore me so far and now here she was telling me to let her new colleague cut my hair.

Brian was looking at me. I felt awkward. I’d expected Ally to be a little friendlier by now. After all, I’d come in peace. Maybe I should’ve brought her some flowers.

‘Kate’s off on holiday soon’ Ally said, taking her eye off her customer for a second. ‘She’s wanting to get her hair clippered for the heat’ she added.

I looked at her. What was she talking about? Was this her idea of a joke?

‘Ally got it into her head that I should go short’ I tried to explain.

‘But you didn’t come in to get your hair cut?’ he asked, still puzzled.

‘Just came in to say hi, that’s all’ I said.

‘I’m off for a smoke’ he said, struggling to conceal his lack of interest. He draped the redundant cape over the back of the chair as he turned.

‘Are you going to get a few minutes for a break?’ I asked Ally, who was diligently attending to her customer.

‘Probably not. Depends’ she said coldly.

‘I’d better be going then’ I said, annoyed with myself for letting her be like that to me.

‘Okay’ she replied without looking towards me.

That was a friendship that wasn’t worth the effort to repair. I’d thought we were good mates, but obviously not, as far as she was concerned. I opened the door and let

it close behind me. I walked purposefully away before realising that I didn’t really have any reason to be in town now. I’d gone there to rescue a friendship that had been holed below the waterline without me realising. I’d got away, but there was nothing left to show that there had been anything there in the first place. I needed to buy something to cheer myself up, just needed to blow some money on something silly.

I tried to think of something, but always came back to a choice between shoes or some sexy underwear as a treat for both of us. Then I thought about sexy underwear AND some shoes. Some shoes with stupidly spiked heels. What would Paul think of that?

No matter how hard I tried, Ally was in my head and kept shoving those thoughts aside and spoiling the mood that I was trying to create. I wanted to do something for Paul. Wanted to be sexy for him, do something that he wouldn’t expect, something that I hadn’t done before. Ally butted in again. Something you’ve not done before, she said. Fuck off, I responded. Something he wouldn’t expect, she persisted. What could that possibly be, she taunted. I managed to wrestle her out of my head, but she’d left her mark. I turned down a side street.

I walked down the street a couple of hundred yards and then saw what I was looking for. I’d been sure that it was on the side of the street that I was on, but it clearly wasn’t. Funny how your mind can play tricks like that. I crossed the road and went in.

‘Hi, is Jo about?’ I asked.

‘Have you got an appointment?’ the receptionist asked.

‘No, I’m a friend, I just popped in.’

‘Let me see’ she said, slinking from behind the counter to reveal a tight leather skirt. It looked good on her. Perhaps I should get one?

I looked around me, appreciating the little touches in reception, noticing how they made it seem so fresh. Something to take back with me possibly.

‘Hi Kate’ Jo beamed as she walked towards me. ‘What are you doing here?’

I smiled. ‘Just passing. Thought I’d just pop in and say hello, you know.’

‘I was just having a coffee, do you want one?’

‘I was hoping to be cheeky and slip in for a quick cut, but if you’re on your break…’

She held up a hand, the flat of her palm towards me. ‘Nonsense, it’s lovely to see you. The coffee can wait. All that charity action got you tempted, has it?’

‘Maybe. I wanted to know what you thought.’

She saw my eyes dart towards the receptionist who was following every word.

‘Come on through, why don’t you?’ she urged.

I followed her, looking at her long dark hair flowing down her back. Her shirt was partly see-through, so her bra was clearly visible, as was the curve of her spine with its mysterious tattooed inscription. Why was I only noticing things like that now? Just looking for ideas?

She spun a chair round, its arms welcoming. I sat down and watched as she sat in the next chair. She smiled.

‘That was a fun day, wasn’t it?’ she said.

I smiled. ‘All in a good cause.’

‘There’s going to be another one later in the year if you’re up for it.’

‘I’ll be there if I can.’

‘Anyway, what are we doing for you?’ she asked, slipping back into professional mode.

‘I just wanted an objective opinion. Whether I should go short, you know.’

‘Why objective?’

‘I don’t know. I can’t ask Paul because he’s useless when you ask him for an opinion on something like this. Ally wanted to shear me like a sheep, I just don’t know if

I should.’

She looked at me.

‘I think you know’ she said.

‘I don’t, really’ I retorted.

‘Okay, how long have you had your hair like that?’

‘I don’t know. Ages.’

‘Okay, so it’s time to do something different then’ she replied. I looked at her long dark mane again. Definitely not someone who practised what she preached.

‘So what do you think?’

She smiled.

‘Just let it happen’ she said, patting me on the knee as she got up. ‘One question though’ she added as she stood behind me. ‘Why aren’t you doing it at one of the events?’

‘It doesn’t seem right really. It’s hard to explain, but if I’m going to cut my hair, it’s for me, not for someone else.’

‘But other people could benefit from it.’

‘I know, but I’ll provide my services and I’ll give some money. I just don’t want any fanfare or anything.’

‘Fair enough’ she acknowledged.

The gown settled around me, capturing me with its lightness. ‘So, when you say “short”, what had you got in mind?’

‘I don’t know. I saw a woman on TV the other night who used to have long curly hair. She’s got it cropped, so that it’s wavy and it makes her neck look so much longer.

It was a really dramatic change, but so feminine.’

‘You’ve been a hairdresser long enough to know that you can’t compare her to what we have here’ she said, running her fingers through my hair. I looked at myself. She had a point. Long and curly it wasn’t. I’d presented her with a well-cut bob and described something completely irrelevant. ‘We could always perm it for you?’ she suggested with a genuine inflection in her voice that pointed to her actually thinking about it as a possibility.

‘A couple of decades too late for a perm, don’t you think?’ I replied.

‘Ok, so no perm. Are we talking about taking the bob up a bit, undercutting it, cropping it, what?’

‘I think I want it short enough so that I don’t have to think about it’ I ventured.

‘That’s more like it’ she replied with a smile. ‘So are you setting me limits or can we do what I think?’

‘Whatever you think’ I replied, wondering where that would take me. I wondered about Paul again, what he’d want me to do. Would he mind me doing this?

Jo followed the curve of my head with the palm of her left hand and met my eye in the mirror.

‘Would you mind if I asked Charlotte to do it for you?’ she asked. I was just starting to wonder why she wasn’t going to do it herself when she completed her sentence.

‘She’s never shaved anyone’s head’ Jo added.

It had been something that had been in my mind ever since I’d done the charity thing, but to have someone actually propose it while I was sitting in a hairdressing gown was another matter. It was much closer, much more of a possibility. A shudder went through me.

‘Really?’

‘What? “Really” that she’s never shaved anyone’s head or “really” that I’m suggesting that we’re doing it?’

‘The first one doesn’t surprise me and I don’t care about it either. It’s the fact that we’ve sat here talking about styles and now you’re just going the whole hog.’

‘It was the style chat that convinced me that shaving it is the only thing to do. You’re not remotely excited by the prospect of anything that we talked about, but I can see that you can’t get what that guy said out of your head. Sorry, forget that I brought him up. It’s the idea that you’d look great if you just stopped pussy-footing around and went for it.’

‘I’m still not convinced’ I said, all manner of things rushing through my mind.

‘You won’t be until you’ve done it and then you’ll wonder why you waited.’

‘I can’t do it. Not if it’s someone I don’t know’ I protested.

‘What difference does it make who’s holding these?’ she asked, lifting the clippers from the hook where they’d dangled unnoticed until now.

‘I don’t know. It’s silly’ I replied. I was about to offer further justification for my stance when she switched them on and touched them to my forehead. She held them there momentarily and then eased them back into my hairline. She adjusted her position slightly so that she was standing completely behind me rather than just to my side. I looked at the hairless patch that she’d just created.

‘I hope you’re right’ I said, resigned to what was about to happen.

‘You know, you would have done this at the event if anyone but that guy had asked you, so what’s the difference?’ she asked, the clippers not pausing while she spoke.

‘If it had been the right person, I would’ve’ I acknowledged, starting to calm down. My crown was bare. Completely bare. Bald. Me, bald. Well, about to be. My bob was tumbling around me and somehow it seemed right. I was calm, serene, amazingly. Maybe the charity shave had shown me that this wasn’t anything to be afraid of, allowed me to be in the presence of people for whom the sacrifice of their hair was irrelevant when taken in the context of the purpose of the event.

Jo’s positioning of the clippers was perfect, no effort wasted as she stripped the hair off my scalp. I could sense someone standing just outside my field of vision and could only think that it was the apprentice learning by observing rather than by doing. I pushed my hand against the underside of the gown making a hank of my hair bounce up and off my lap. My eyes went back to the transformed reflection in the mirror. I wasn’t hideous without hair, although it would certainly take some adjustment. All those involuntary actions that we all do would be meaningless now. At least for a while there’d be no need to check that my hair was okay before I went out or before a client arrived. There’d be no need to worry about inclement weather, none of that. The more I thought about it, the more advantages I came up with to having no hair. All I needed was to know that I’d be accepted by people and wouldn’t scare the children when I went out. The clippers fell quiet and I was conscious that Jo was waiting for a reaction.

‘Bit of an anti-climax really’ I said.

‘That’s the spirit’ she replied stroking a palm across my scalp. ‘It looks really good on you, but you knew that anyway’ didn’t you?’

‘If it didn’t look okay, there’s always wigs and hats’ I replied.

‘What about Irene, does she know about this?’

‘Nobody does.’

‘They’re in for a shock then’ she replied, taking the can of shaving foam that the trainee was holding out to her.

I concentrated on the sensation of foam and fingertips tracing patterns across my scalp, wondering what it would take for Paul to do that for me when I got home and I could really let myself go. I watched the razor glide across my scalp, barely feeling it as it travelled. I looked at my face, assessed how it seemed to have changed without the frame of hair. My eyes seemed bigger, but that could’ve been down to the element of surprise at what I was looking at. I checked my ears, grateful that they weren’t making a bid for attention. It would’ve been dreadful if they’d stuck out. They were fine and would look even better with a good pair of earrings. I closed my eyes, content that all was well.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and opened my eyes, realising that I must have drifted off. Jo had cleared my scalp of shaving foam. I was done.

‘Say hello to the new Kate’ Jo said.

I smiled and stroked my scalp tentatively.

‘Happy?’

‘I will be’ I replied, knowing that I needed Paul’s acceptance before I could be completely happy, but for now I was content.

Jo rinsed me off quickly and then we were in to the negotiation about payment. She refused to take any money, telling me that I should give it to the charity. I was more than happy with that.

I left the salon and tried not to think of myself as bald as I walked down the street. I didn’t want to feel self-conscious, wanted to give the impression that I was perfectly at ease with how I looked. That obviously wasn’t the case, even though I was pleased with what I’d done. I still needed to feel accepted. I wondered what the perv would think if he could see me now, wondered what Ally would think. I half-toyed with the idea of going back to see her at the shop, but then decided that it wouldn’t accomplish anything. Far better to go and buy shoes!

I went home with more bags than I would’ve thought possible, dreading the credit card bill at the end of the month. Every mirror in the house informed me that I was bald, yet I still looked in every one there was just in case it had something different to tell me. I tried on some of my new purchases, but still found myself looking at my lack of hair in preference to whatever I was trying on. I had to tell myself to stop and focus lower down, which in this case wasn’t on very much. In amongst various new items of underwear, I’d bought a sheer body suit, because I’d never worn one and thought that it looked fun. I wondered about it though, once I had it on.

There was no mystery about it. It revealed everything, nipples, bald pussy, the lot. I took it off and threw it to one side, annoyed at the waste of money. I wanted to look good for when Paul came home and in the end decided on just a simple black dress, complemented by the leather collar that he liked me to wear for special occasions. He loved to attach a leash to it and make me walk about the bedroom on all fours. Simple pleasures! I wondered whether that would be his focus today.

I’d actually spent so much time going through everything that I didn’t realise it was time for him to come home. I heard the front door open with a start.

‘Anyone home?’ he called.

‘I’m up here, I’ll be down in a sec’ I replied, cramming purchases and bags into a wad so that I could stuff them into the wardrobe. They would take some sorting out and now wasn’t the time. I took a breath, straightened my dress and headed downstairs.

Paul was in the kitchen, partially obscured by the fridge door while he retrieved a can of beer. The door swung shut and revealed him to me so that I could give him his customary peck on the cheek.

‘How was your day?’ I asked, as matter of factly as I could. He looked at me.

‘Fine’ he replied. He stared at me. ‘Have you done something different with your hair?’ he asked, taking a long swallow from his opened can.

‘No, why?’ I replied.

‘You look different. I can’t put my finger on it though’ he replied, can to his lips for a return visit.

‘You mean something like this?’ I asked, tracing across the front of his trousers with my index finger. A finger became my palm, pressed into him, appreciating the increasing hardness.

He stared at me, hard and ready. I undid his zipper and slid my hand inside. His fingers went to my collar, slipping inside it.

‘Down, girl’ he said firmly. I looked at him with my best puppy eyes. ‘Down’ he commanded.

I went to my knees and then on to all fours, looking up at him. He drained his can while undoing his belt. His trousers slid to the floor, followed by his underwear. I looked up at his erection, readying myself to take it in my mouth, but he side-stepped me and touched it to my bare scalp, running it over and over the freshly-shaven skin. I was grateful that I hadn’t bothered to put anything under my dress and appreciated the freedom that I had just to play with myself while he touched me in a way that he’d never been able to before and a way that I’d not imagined.

His free hand was at the zipper of my dress and between us we managed to shrug it off me, quickly followed by his shirt. His hands caressed my scalp while he fucked my mouth. I couldn’t call it a blowjob, because he was controlling everything. This wasn’t what I’d normally do, teasing him with my tongue, this was pure face-fucking, albeit done with sensitivity. We were in new territory here. He became more urgent, which made me fear for my teeth, but then I felt his warmth in my throat, heard the sound that he makes when he comes and I knew that I was safe.

He stood over me, looking down and then patted me. ‘Good girl’ he said, taking the doggy thing a tad too far, I thought. I went to get up. ‘Stay’ he said. He was really into it, much more so that he usually was when I had the collar on. I was on all fours again while he explored me in a more traditional manner and in no time at all, he was ready to go again and on more familiar “doggystyle” ground.

From doggy, to more sheepish, Paul lay next to me once he’d finished and cradled my bald head in his hand. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

‘What? Are you worried that I’ll report you for cruelty to animals?’ I asked with a grin.

‘I don’t know what came over me’ he said.

‘Well, I know what came over me’ I smiled, knowing that my scalp would still bear the evidence.

He repositioned himself and I felt him undo the collar. ‘Don’t trust yourself if I’ve got that on, is that it? I asked.

‘Something like that.’

‘You could have just said that it suited me, you didn’t have to go all alpha dog on me.’

‘What made you do it?’ he asked.

I told him about going to see Ally and how I ended up just doing it on a whim.

‘I’ll have to thank her next time I see her’ he said.

‘Could be a while’ I replied.

‘I don’t know, you two have too much history for this to last.’

‘Maybe, who knows?’ I replied.

I got up and went to get cleaned up. Dinner ended up being prepared by telephone, because I wasn’t in the mood anymore to cook anything. I just wanted to bask in the glow of one of the best fucks that I’d ever had. Sure, there had been longer ones, there had been the odd quickie somewhere that could’ve got us into trouble, but this evening’s was certainly up there with them.

While we ate our take-out, Paul made me tell him again about the events of the day, in minute detail. I left out the part where I did serious damage to my credit card, knowing from experience that it was best to drip-feed those purchases into view over the next few weeks. It was a lovely evening, with me as the centre of attention, which was never a bad thing and it was rounded off by a more leisurely session in bed before we both fell asleep.

That was the first major encounter over and done with. The second was work the following day. Reactions varied from surprised to “I knew you would”, but all of them were positive from my colleagues. I did get a couple of sideways glances from some of the clients, but on the whole it was positive all the way.

Days passed and stubble appeared, leaving me with the question about what to do. I asked Paul and he said that it was entirely up to me.

‘So you’re not bothered whether I’m bald or not?’ I asked.

‘You know that’s not it, I liked the surprise’ he replied. Good answer, I thought. That still left me with a dilemma though. I left it for a few days and then left it some more, leaving Paul wondering and wondering. I did notice that he wasn’t paying quite as much attention to my head now that I had a reasonable covering of hair.

All those years and neither of us knew that he had a thing for bald women! Well, I take it that he didn’t know.

I left it a few more days and then decided that he’d waited long enough for me to do something. I walked in through the door knowing that he’d be home early thanks to a meeting only a couple of miles from home for a change. I could hear him in the kitchen, making a start on dinner and wondered whether I should sneak upstairs and get changed. I decided that I couldn’t wait and walked in to the kitchen. He was chopping vegetables and paused so that he could look up. His face was a picture.

‘Fuck!’ he said, putting the knife down. ‘Wow, fuck!’ he said again.

‘Do you like it?’ I asked, running a hand over my platinum blonde stubble.

In moments, I was bent over the worktop with my skirt hitched up, bracing myself for what was to come. That was my answer.

‘You’ll need to be quick, I’m starving’ I said provocatively. At that moment, I didn’t care whether I ever ate again. His hands were all over me, stroking my white pelt, groping me, freeing my boobs from my shirt and the tangle of my bra, sliding my knickers down. All in all, it confirmed that Paul had a thing for women with very short hair as well as for bald women.

The following day, Paul had a surprise of his own. He came home slightly later than usual, sporting much less hair than when he went out in the morning and much less that I’d ever seen him with. He’d never let me cut his hair, insisting that he preferred to do what men do and go to a proper barber. That he did, and usually came home with the same sort of thing that he always had, which never involved clippers. His new look most certainly did. I looked at him, deciding that it was a number three on top and two for the rest.

‘That’s you tidied up then’ I observed, thinking that we now sported hair of a similar length.

‘Yeah, well, me and the barber woman were chatting and it got deep and meaningful and she just kept cutting.’

‘Surely you mean “the barber woman and I”‘ I corrected.

‘Whatever’ he replied. I tried to decide whether I liked him without much hair, in the same way that I’d spent a while getting used to myself with no hair. It was a shake-up, but there was nothing wrong with that. I made a mental note to ask him what he and his barber found so fascinating to talk about that he ended up shorn like that.

As you might expect, the venue for the investigation was our bedroom later that evening. We both paid as much attention to caressing each other’s bristly head as we did to more traditional areas of interest while he made love to me slowly and gently. I asked him to tell me about what happened in the barbershop and it was that topic that led him to pick up the pace. I think that we’d discovered another interest of his.

I had a shock a couple of days later when my phone pinged while I was on a break. It was a text from Ally. “So sorry for being a cow. Fancy a drink?” it said. I wondered what had brought that on, but was pleased in a way. It gave me something to think about for my next couple of clients and by lunchtime, we’d exchanged a couple more texts, our first friendly exchange since before she’d done my hair that evening. We agreed that I’d meet her at the barbershop after work and then head on somewhere. I texted Paul to tell him that he’d have to find his own dinner.

I had to admit that I was a bit nervous as I approached the salon. I felt awkward in a way after our last encounter there and thought that it might have been better just to have met in a bar somewhere, but then you get into the whole scenario of getting hit on while you wait for the other one to arrive, which was awkward in itself. The “closed” sign was up when I got to the door, but the door was unlocked. I went in, finding the little bell annoying. Ally popped her head round the door to what must be their store room. She looked a little sheepish as she came out, but then she held her arms out towards me. We hugged, we made up, she ran a hand over my white-blonde scalp as we parted.

‘You look fab’ she said, clearly looking at my head.

‘Thanks’ I replied. She looked the same as she always had, if a little more casual than she’d used to be in the salon. Jeans and a tee-shirt seemed to be her new uniform, probably to give her customers something to focus on. She appeared happy to offer something for both the boob men and the bum men. She offered me a glass of wine, chatting as she opened the bottle. This was the Ally that I’d known, rather than the surly woman that I’d encountered before. She led me through to the tiny breakout area where there were only two seats and we chatted easily for a few minutes until she dropped the bombshell.

‘Paul told me about you shaving your head and how good you looked’ she said.

I had to take a long pull on my wine to process what she’d just said. When had she spoken to Paul? Then it all made sense.

‘It was you who cut his hair?’ I said.

‘Didn’t he tell you. We had a real old chinwag.’

‘He mentioned the chinwag, didn’t tell me that it was you who scalped him.’

‘He looks so much better, don’t you think?’

‘So the two of you decided that we should do this?’

‘He was really sweet. Said that we were being silly. That I was being silly. He just said that we should go out and get drunk and forget all about it.’

‘So you scalped him for that suggestion?’

‘I needed to keep him in the chair so that we could talk. It sort of just happened. Don’t you like it?’ she asked.

I thought back to being in bed with him the evening he came home. I liked it very much, but couldn’t bring myself to tell her. The conversation stalled for a few moments and then was back on track. We tried to decide where to go for something to eat, but then said that we’d just walk until we found somewhere that looked good.

We drained our glasses and headed for the door. Ally paused as we walked through the shop.

‘Are you going to let me freshen you up before we go?’ she asked.

I’d been half-expecting something like that when she’d originally suggested that we meet at the barbershop, so I wasn’t caught unawares.

‘If you want’ I replied, clearly surprising her. I’m not sure if she’d been expecting a refusal or an argument, but the easy agreement seemed to take her by surprise.

She looked at me for a moment, wondering why I’d agreed so readily, but then the barber in her kicked in and she put her bag down, reaching for a cape.

‘Hop in then’ she said.

I settled into the chair and looked at my white-blonde reflection. I was glad that I’d tried the look, but it wasn’t really for me. I’d said to Paul that I thought it looked tarty, but he countered by saying that it would only be tarty if it was long, which it most certainly wasn’t. Tarty, vampish, whatever. Ally turned the clippers on and peeled away the first strip across the top of my head.

I’d considered going bald again, but then thought that I’d see what fun I could have with my short hair for a while. That was where the platinum fuzz had come from and the plan had been to let it grow a little more and then go really dark. Ally had just consigned that plan to the floor and I really wasn’t bothered. It wouldn’t take long to grow bristles again and it would be a pleasant surprise for Paul when I got home to have me bald again. I wondered what treats he’s be able to come up with when put on the spot. I admired Ally’s dexterity with the clippers now. There was no hesitation, just measured swipes across my scalp.

The clippers went off, the shaving foam went on and out came the cut-throat razor. This was going to be a first and I would have to admit to a little tremble at the thought. A safety razor was one thing, but a bare blade?

Ally saw my slight trepidation. ‘Trust me, I’m a professional’ she said, giving me a wink. True to her word, I barely felt a thing. More importantly, there was no blood. In a matter of minutes, I was completely bald again. I looked round at Ally.

‘Thank you’ I said, getting up.

‘You’re welcome’ she replied, reaching to unfasten the gown.

I went across to the basin and rinsed my head quickly to get off any traces of foam and then towelled it dry. I looked at myself in the mirror and welcomed back the more exotic version of me.

‘Right, let’s go’ I said briskly. I saw Ally hesitate. ‘What?’ I asked.

‘Nothing’ she replied. ‘Well, I thought you’d try to do it to me’ she added.

I looked at her. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘Dunno. Revenge?’ she ventured uncertainly.

‘Revenge for what?’

‘Forget it. It’s stupid’ she replied. I shrugged my shoulders. We headed out and I wondered whether she’d actually wanted me to try to get her in the chair after she’d

shaved me. Would she have said “yes” if I had?

We took our drinks to a table in the corner of the bar where we hoped to get a bit of peace and quiet. I’d been aware of a few glances when we came in, some of which became too long to be called “glances”.

It wasn’t long before the local wag homed in on us.

‘Don’t get many of your sort in here’ he said with a grin.

‘Oh, and what sort is that?’ Ally challenged.

‘You know, ladies who lunch…on other ladies’ he said, looking pleased with himself.

‘I think you mean “rug munchers” Ally retorted with a hard stare.

‘Yeah, that’s what I meant. Usually only see them in films’ he said, looking a little less sure of himself now.

‘I wonder why that is?’ Ally replied sharply. I could see her just staring at him, not backing down. His bravado was draining away.

‘Not too late for you to come back to the right side. You’ve still got your hair, love’ he said as he moved away.

‘I can sort that out easy enough so you don’t get confused next time’ she said to his back. I watched him skulk away to his seat and take a sip of his drink, looking across at us from the corner of his eye. Ally smiled. ‘Let’s give him a treat’ she said, leaning in towards me. I was looking into her eyes as she approached, wondering what she was doing, even though it was blindingly obvious. The woman who had totally blanked me so recently was leaning in to kiss me. I was so taken aback

that I just sat there as she made contact, my eyes wide open. Her lips touched mine, her tongue flicked across my lips and then made its presence more insistent. I couldn’t believe it. At first I thought that this was part of a tease for the benefit of the guy who’d tried to be clever, but he couldn’t see the dance that her tongue was trying to lead with my own. The hand on my thigh could’ve been for his benefit, but the fingers that were trying to burrow probably weren’t. She broke contact and sat back, picking her glass up for a sip of wine. I didn’t know what to say. I picked my own glass up, looking at her.

‘You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that’ she said. My head was spinning, pieces falling in to place. Attractive young woman, no boyfriend. How can I have been so stupid!

‘So you like your women bald?’ I ventured eventually, trying to process what she’d just done.

‘I do now. Short used to be good enough, but there’s something about a bald head that really does it for me’ she replied.

‘Is this a recent thing, if you don’t mind me asking?’

‘The bald thing or the dyke thing?’ she asked with a smile.

‘Either. Both. I don’t know, you’ve knocked me for six here’ I replied.

‘The dyke thing was just an accident really. I’d got stood up by some guy and he was just the latest in a long line of wasters. I was crying in the bathroom in the bar and someone came in. She was really nice to me, gave me a hug, told me that men were bastards and then the hug wasn’t a hug anymore. We went back to her place and well, you know, it just happened. The bald thing just came across while I was trying to work out whether that was a one-off or there was more to it. I did a bit of online research, watched a bit of lesbian porn, realised that I preferred women with short hair best and then stumbled on these sites where women get their heads shaved. Bingo!’

‘But you know I’ve got Paul, so why did you think I’d be up for it?’

‘A girl can dream, can’t she?’ Ally replied.

‘Really? Aren’t there clubs, where you can meet people?’

‘They’re just meat markets’ she replied.

I drained my glass. I’d earned it.

Ally looked at me. ‘I didn’t mean to shock you. I probably wouldn’t have done anything if it hadn’t been for him over there’ she said with a flick of her head.

‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it’ I replied, still reeling from the revelation. What I’d thought of as the end of our friendship had been because of what she perceived as rejection. That explained so much.

‘I’d better be going’ she said.

‘I told Paul to get a takeaway because I thought we’d go for something to eat’ I said.

‘So you’re not going to run away screaming?’

‘Why would I do that?’ I replied.

She smiled and we got up. I saw her look across to our new friend and as we started to walk, she took my hand and looked pointedly in his direction. As we passed his table, she paused.

‘Lovely to have met you’ she said. ‘We’ve got to go. Attack of the munchies, you know…, rug munchies.’ She left him speechless and we left the pub. I burst out laughing as we got through the door.

‘You’re shameless, you know that?’

‘I would be, if you want to put dinner on hold’ she replied. I stopped, realising that we were still holding hands.

‘Look Ally, Paul’s at home.’

‘And?’

‘Well, he’s at home and I’ll be going home to him. To Paul.’ I said, not really sure what I was trying to say.

Ally gave me that look again.

‘Will you cut my hair for me?’ she asked quietly. I looked at the blonde hair that was breaking over her shoulders. Whatever discoveries she’d made hadn’t impacted on her own hair, which she’d worn the same way as long as I’d worked with her. Here she was asking me to cut it for her.

‘If you want’ I replied. ‘Are you sure though? You’re not just caught up in some moment?’

She shrugged her shoulders and squeezed my hand.

We walked in silence during the few minutes it took to get back to the shop. I had no idea what was going through her head, but mine was a maelstrom of emotions and apprehension. I looked up and down the street while she unlocked, although I’m not sure why any passers-by would think anything of a couple of respectably dressed women going in to a shop on a high street. We could be the owners going in for a whole host of reasons. The fact that it was early evening on a weekday had nothing to do with it.

Ally shut the door behind me and drew down the blind. She reached across and tugged at the cord that lowered the blind over the main window, draping us in shadow. I heard a couple of switches flick on and off until she had got the lighting to her liking, not too bright, but good enough to work in. She turned to me and smiled nervously.

‘Thank you for not running away’ she said.

‘You’ve just locked the door, so that would be a bit difficult’ I replied.

‘You know what I mean, you could have just gone home to Paul.’

‘I suspect that he’s quite happy on his own for a while.’

‘Hope so’ she replied, moving in to the main salon area. I watched her as she went past me, looked at her long blonde hair, wondered how she wanted me to cut it. Was she going to go all the way or was she after some sort of man-style? I’d find out soon enough. The hairdresser in me kicked in and I reached for a cape.

‘Jump in and make yourself comfortable’ I said, walking towards her. I looked at the barber chair that I’d sat in not so long before. It was bigger than I was used to in the ladies salon. I’d seen where she’d put her scissors and clippers away earlier, and opened the drawer to get the scissors out. I realised that she hadn’t moved.

‘You don’t have to do this. We can just go and get something to eat, have a chat’ I said, employing my “concerned” voice.

‘I want to. It’s just that I want it done a very particular way.’

‘That’s fine. Show me a picture and I’ll go from that’ I urged, still looking to her to sit in the chair.

‘It’s not like that. I’m afraid you won’t want to do it the way I want.’

‘Just sit down and we’ll do it whatever way you want.’

She looked at me, concerned.

‘I want you to sit in the chair’ she said.

‘I’ve done that already’ I replied, baffled.

I could see her searching for the best way to explain what she wanted.

‘I want to kneel down in front of you when you cut it’ she said.

‘Okaaaay’ I said slowly, looking at the wooden floor. ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine if you kneel on one of these cushions’ I replied, pointing to the waiting area to the side. I reached across and picked one up, taking a step towards her. I looked at the chair and then looked at her. It would work, even if it was a bit of a strange request. I sat down and held the cushion out to her.

‘Make yourself comfortable’ I said. She looked at me.

‘There’s a bit more to it’ she said sheepishly.

‘Tell me’ I urged, wondering if I actually wanted to hear what she was about to say.

‘You’ll need to stand up first’ she said. I could do that.

I stood up and faced her.

‘I want to be naked when you do it’ she said. I raised my eyebrows.

‘I’m not one to judge’ I said. ‘Feel free if that’s what you want.’

‘I want you to undress me’ she said.

That earned her one of my disapproving looks.

‘Maybe this isn’t such a good idea’ I replied.

‘Please? I don’t want to do it unless you do it.’

‘I daren’t ask what you’ve been watching on those websites.’ I replied, trying to lighten the moment.

‘I haven’t seen this anywhere. This is all me’ she said, reaching for my hand. I let her take it, but resisted her attempt to guide it to where she wanted it to be, which appeared to be the buttons on her shirt. She released her grip, searching my eyes for a clue as to what I was thinking. She didn’t find anything.

She leant in to kiss me, but I backed off.

‘Look Ally, I’m not…I haven’t done…I’ve got Paul’ I stammered, not really knowing which direction to take my refusal, so that she wouldn’t bring down the curtain on our friendship like last time.

‘Don’t worry, it isn’t contagious. Paul will be there for you when you get home’ she said.

‘But why naked?’ I asked.

‘Because I want to lick your pussy while you cut my hair, so I thought it might make you feel more at ease if I was naked.’

‘There’s part of that sentence that you should probably have mentioned before we came back here’ I said, incredulous at what she’d just told me. That is, if she really had just said that she wanted to lick my pussy. Had I just imagined that? The fingers at the waistband of my jeans suggested that it had nothing to do with my imagination. My hand covered hers to impede progress, but all that happened was that she moved her hand down to cover my crotch.

‘You don’t have to do anything. Just let me play while you cut my hair. Then you can go home and let Paul fuck you. Maybe he’ll be grateful that I’ve warmed you up for him.’

‘You really think I’ll let you do that?’ I asked, fixing her gaze with my eyes.

‘Considering I’ve still got a handful of your pussy and you haven’t slapped me, I’d say you’re thinking about it’ she said with a leer.

‘You couldn’t tell what you’re holding through a pair of jeans’ I replied.

‘True’ she said. ‘What about this?’ she asked. Her left hand was cupping my right boob, where the material of my bra and shirt didn’t offer the same protection as my jeans.

‘Cut my hair and go home to Paul’ she said quietly. I reached up and took her hand off my boob. I did the same with the hand on the front of my jeans. I looked at her, wondering. Curious. I could see her fighting disappointment, battling rejection once again. Her expression changed as I took hold of her shirt and tugged it out of her own jeans. We looked at each other as I undid the buttons slowly from the bottom. I couldn’t believe that I was doing this, actually undressing another woman. She closed her eyes.

I left her shirt hanging open and drew down the zipper on her jeans, crouching slightly to pull them down. She stepped out of the concertinaed material and watched me stand up. Her shirt slid off, leaving her standing there in her bra and pants. All so innocent at that point. She half-turned away from me, presenting the clasp on her bra. The moment that it would all become something very different had arrived. I reached up. I paused, the two ends went their separate ways. Ally turned to face me, the bra held in place by her hand. She lowered her hand. I was faced with my first pair of bare boobs that weren’t my own in a situation where they were more than just a pair of boobs.

‘You can touch them if you like’ Ally invited.

How do you decline an offer like that without offending someone? I really wasn’t sure of the etiquette.

‘They’re lovely’ I said, hoping that a compliment would suffice. I decided to distract her by putting my thumbs in the waistband of her knickers and sliding them down. Another first. I tried so hard not to look at her as I slid them down, but there was something about the finest line of pubes that ran up from the top of her slit that meant that I just couldn’t. she was perfectly smooth everywhere else. I wondered if she’d think me lazy for just getting rid of all of mine. I stood back up and decided that the best way was just to get it over with. I reached for my waistband, only for her to say ‘Here, let me.’

Her fingers undid the button and eased them apart. I took a deep breath, reminded inevitably of the first time with a boy at school, round the back of a pub that we were too young to be in. He’d been nervous, uncertain, wary of what he might find. Ally had none of that. She brushed the backs of her fingers across the front of my pants as she pulled my jeans off. She stood up, looking at me for approval for the finger that she’d slid between my legs. It was pressed against the material of my gusset, trying to pretend that it was innocent. She distracted me with a kiss and then my knickers were halfway down my thighs. She knelt to pull them all the way down and then there I was, naked from the waist down with another woman who was completely naked, kneeling at my feet. It seemed that the haircut part of the exercise had been forgotten. I felt warm breath where I’d never expect it when in the company of another woman and where I only felt it from Paul on special occasions. This wasn’t a scattered approach in the hope of hitting the right bit, this was targetted. I closed my eyes and tried to forget that I was standing in the middle of a barbershop letting another woman run the tip of her tongue the length of my slit.

The situation was so unexpected, so out of my comfort zone that I just had to let myself go. I heard a moan, felt something that I’d only felt on the rarest of occasions with a man. I grabbed handfuls of Ally’s hair and pulled her in to me, determined to maximise the effect. She made me gasp and as my head involuntarily tilted backwards, my eye caught the glint of the scissors. Head back on its normal plane, I reached for the scissors. I grabbed a hank of hair and started to cut unceremoniously. She paused for a moment and grunted before carrying on. I wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell me, but it was too late for any objection. I’d just harvested a big handful of hair from the top of her head and followed it with another. I reached down to brush her face with the severed end.

‘Is that what you wanted? You wanted me to cut your fucking hair off’ I said, surprising myself with my intensity. I sensed the contact of her lips with my pussy ease a little and pulled her back in. I reached down and teased out a tress of hair at the side of her head, cutting it close to the scalp. There was a race going on to see whether I would finish cropping her before she made me cum. It was a race that she won. I put the scissors to one side so that I had both hands free to pull her right in to me, with no regard as to how she was going to breathe. For her it was all about a haircut, for me, it was all about the most intense orgasm that I could remember.

Ally sat back on her heels, hair that had been on her shoulders now on the floor. What hair was on her head was ragged, uneven, awful looking. I felt ashamed to call myself a professional. She grinned, her mouth betraying the slurping what she’d just been doing.

‘What are you smiling at, bitch? You’re not finished yet’ I said firmly. She looked surprised, although she couldn’t have been more surprised at what I’d just said to her than I was. I tried to pull her hair, but I hadn’t left her enough to let me do that. I picked up the clippers from the counter and sat down on the edge of the chair, fixing her gaze. I leant back, spreading my legs wide. I wasn’t sure what had happened to the reserved, almost prudish me, but it had definitely left the building.

I flicked the switch on the guardless clippers and beckoned her towards me. Clippers poised, I parted my pussy lips with my free hand and looked at her expectantly. Her head dipped, her tongue hit home, the clippers ran up the back of her head. It was obvious to me that this wasn’t going to be the most successful haircut, given the physical restrictions. I had a choice of letting her assume a position that would allow me full access to her head or letting her finish what she was doing. I made another pass with the clippers and then eased fully back to let her work her magic.

Even though I was experiencing sensations that none of my select band of male lovers (Paul included) had ever managed to generate, I couldn’t help thinking that very shortly, reality would come rushing in and I would be sitting guiltily exposed in front of a colleague and friend. Ally’s tongue flicked again, forcing such thoughts backwards once more.

Ally lapped, I held her shorn head, opening my eyes periodically to look at what I’d done to her and to confirm that she really was doing to me what I thought she was doing to me. She stopped and I felt a protest well up, which ended when I realised that she was changing her technique. I looked at her, kneeling in front of me, resolute and drew a deep breath as she slid a finger inside me. One became two, only to be joined by a third.

Her altered position allowed me full access to her head again, so I reached for the clippers. She smiled wickedly as I turned them on and dipped her head slightly to allow me the best angle. The blades touched her forehead and raggedy tufts started to fall, to reveal scalp. I knew that I had to work quickly, because her tongue and fingers were about to deliver me to the end of my road. I watched her expression change, only realising at that point that mine wasn’t the only pussy to benefit from her fingers. Her other hand was fully occupied with intensifying the sensation of the shave. I wondered whether there were any passers-by to enjoy the shadow performance through the fabric of the window blind.

Between us, we managed to get to a point where Ally’s scalp was effectively hairless. I knew that it wasn’t perfect, but it was much more presentable than when it was tufty. I reached across to put the clippers on their hook and gave my full attention to Ally. That was her cue to finish her own task. With a final smile, she fixed my gaze and triggered a final frenzy. Her arm pumped, her fingers plunged home and then I did something that I’d never, ever done.

It was several seconds before I opened my eyes and ventured a glance in her direction. She had the broadest smile on her face.

‘There’s nothing that says “thank you” better than when a woman squirts’ she observed, licking her fingers disgracefully.

I didn’t know what to say. Should I apologise, thank her profusely or what? I’m sure that I blushed.

Ally stood up and held out a hand to urge me to get out of the chair. I was painfully aware of being naked from the waist down in front of someone who I’d regarded as a friend, but now wasn’t sure what she qualified as. She looked at herself in the mirror and leaned in to kiss me. I could taste myself on her, which wasn’t surprising considering what she’d just done.

‘You’ve still got a bit to do’ she said, taking a seat. I watched her part her legs so that my wetness on the fabric was fully visible. She smiled and waited expectantly.

I picked up the can of shaving foam that Ally had used on me before we went out. My fingers circled her scalp to spread the white blob and I watched her concentration in the mirror as she savoured the sensations. My circular motion was mimicked by her own fingertips on the nipple of her right breast. The fingers of her other hand headed for somewhere that they already knew was warm and wet. I really hoped that she’d be able to hold still for me, despite what she was doing. I didn’t want to find out that the “safety” part of the razor’s name wasn’t fully justified. Despite the distraction, I got through my part of the deal, followed by her shortly afterwards.

I’d felt awkward standing back and watching her finish the job, so started to help out with some tentative caressing of her boobs. It didn’t feel right to me, my fingers were used to be gentle with a guy’s balls. Any other time, I was more used to adding something a bit more vigorous into the mix. I pinched her nipple, she squealed. I covered her left boob with my hand and squeezed. That got a squeal and a “yes”. I reached over her shoulders and grabbed both boobs, squeezing as hard as I could. I found myself licking her scalp, tasting the foam residue. I didn’t like it, but Ally clearly did. Unlike myself, she was a screamer. It shocked me and pleased me. I stood back to let her enjoy whatever glow she’d got going on.

She sighed and opened her eyes, reaching out a hand for mine. She looked at herself in the mirror again. Cheeks flushed, scalp hairless. She ran a hand over her head.

‘Well that’s going to freak them out tomorrow’ she laughed. She stood up and touched her fingers gently to my scalp. ‘Just between us, eh?’ she said. I was more than happy with that.

We cleaned ourselves up as best we could in the limited washroom facilities in the salon. I’d gone in first and by the time I had finished, she’d tidied the salon, and to my great relief, washed the chair down. It was as if nothing had happened. Ally’s bald head said otherwise. I waited while she cleaned herself up, trying to process what I’d just done.

‘So, what do we tell people?’ I asked when she emerged from the back room fully clothed.

‘I liked what you’d done and wanted to give it a go myself’ she said without a hint of drama.

‘As simple as that?’

‘That’s what it boils down to, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose you’re right’ I agreed.

‘I’m starving’ she said as we headed to the door.

‘Haven’t you eaten enough for one night?’ I asked.

‘Good one’ she smiled, patting my backside as I went through the door ahead of her. Strangely enough, I was in no hurry to get home.

13 responses to “Charity Begins At Home

  1. Paul – I wrote a story called “Cindy’s Wedding,” under the pen name “novowriter,” many years ago. It was originally published in 4 parts. Is that the series you’re referring to? If so, you might want to know that I published that novelette as “Ashley’s Wedding.” To do that, I had to remove it from all the story sites on which it was listed. If you’re interested, “Ashley’s Wedding,” along with my other long novels, is available on Amazon for Kindle. Hair cutting, among other fetish erotica, appears in all my books. Here’s a link to Ashley’s Wedding, on the US Amazon site:

    https://www.amazon.com/Ashleys-Wedding-Giulia-Napoli-ebook/dp/B008542WYA/ref=sr_1_10?keywords=giulia+napoli&qid=1551468903&s=gateway&sr=8-10

    You can read it for free if you have Kindle Unlimited. Otherwise, it’s $2.99 US. If you want to see if it’s the story you remember, you can look at the sample by clicking on the pic. If you want, feel free to email me at: [email protected]. My best to you.

    Rayzur – Like everyone else, I LOVE your stories!

    Giulia

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