Piekje
Choices, choices ….
It is not that my hair looked bad, but I just wanted a haircut. My last one was about three months ago. That was quite a good one, in all perspectives. A very beautiful barberette that gave me plenty of time and attention before reaching for her scissors. I showed her some pictures of what I might wanna do with my hair. Probably she noticed me hesitating about a new style and advised me to keep it long. To be honest, I wouldn’t have mind at all her taking control. If ever there was one barberette I would have surrendered to, it was her.
So why not again make an appointment with her? Well, it’s a two hour drive at least. Most shops and restaurants are closed because of the lockdown and November … yes it has a lot of fog and rain.
I decided to look for someone more close by. I didn’t fancy going to my regular salon. The four barberettes that work there are often very loud and make lots of fun. Sometimes I think it’s more like a pub than a salon. The noise distracts me from the experience of getting a haircut.
So quite a challenge, as I am not good in making choices.
Finally I booked an appointment with a one-barberette salon, which website I found appealing. She had a small place just out of town. When I entered I noticed that she wasn’t quite such a sensual woman as she appeared on the website. She was friendly and feminine though.
We started talking about my hair and I must say the conversation wasn’t going in a clear direction what style to cut. In between there was a lot of small talk which drew my attention away from my hair. Suddenly she said ‘Well it doesn’t have to be either one or the other. It can be in between.’ Stupid me didn’t react.
She caped me and started from the back slice cutting my hair. Oh no! Cutting my hair without scissors but with a blade usually ends up very poor in result. The first slice she made …. It’s was rather high on the side of my head. Nothing I could do. Frozen to the chair. She continued quite rapidly making up for the time she lost chit chatting. When finished came the obvious question ‘what do you think of it’.
My answer ‘well I usually give it a week or two after a cut and then I can say if I really like it’.
‘Okay’ she said ‘let me know if there might be something I can do’.
It’s been two weeks now. Frankly I will not let her know because in any case I will not let her cut my hair another time. Guess I have looked at the mirror more than a dozen times a day in complete dislike what I see. I wonder if she got any hairdressing training at all. It is uneven in the strangest places, too short and I just don’t like it. Not the style- what style? – nor the length. I had an amateur haircut five years ago that looked like award winning compared to this.
But now what?
Go to my familiar place or the barberette far away? Still the same reasons not to as there were two weeks ago. So again surfing the web.
Three days later I ended up in the chair of Marly. A luscious woman in her late thirties, with wild chin length blonde curls. I decided to be honest with her about what happened.
‘The only thing I am sure about right now is that I do not like my hair the way it has been cut a few weeks ago. Wish I did not had it cut at all. I would still have these long tresses.’
I showed her a picture taken this summer.
‘I have to live with it I guess. Being patient and wait months, rather ages for it to grow to that length again. Choice is not cutting it all for six months, just a little trim maybe to get rid of the uneven parts, or … I don’t know really.’
Marly started to examine my hairdo. Lifting strands with her fingers. Looking at it from all sides. She took her time before coming to her judgement.
‘I clearly see what you mean. Just a little trim won’t change that much I’m afraid. Sorry to say it’s a very bad haircut she did on you. Letting it grow to what you had will indeed take time and because you had it all one length, it will probably annoy you while growing it cause it’s in layers, sort of speak that is, right now.’
My facial expression turned very sad. ‘Then I guess I am out of choices …’
Marly again started plucking my hair. ‘You will not like this ….’
‘Like what …’
‘You actually do have a choice. But maybe you find it scary. Especially after your last haircut. Before letting it grow again, get rid of the bad haircut and the uneven parts completely.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Cutting it all to the same length. Then it will grow back evenly and finally to how it was. But I realize right now this would be like a to big sacrifice for you.’
This was unexpected, this advice. ‘How short will you have to cut it?‘
Marly started taking small, short strands between her fingers. Looking for the shortest locks. She then lifted a part that was even shorter then I myself had noticed. Like a little more tham inch maybe.
‘This is the shortest part. I would have to take that as I guide. It will be a bit shorter than this when finished. I wanna do a proper cut. I think it’s the best choice you have before letting it grow.’
‘That short?’
‘In this case, honestly … the shorter the better’ replied Marly.
This turned me on and as I had nothing to lose. At least that’s what I felt in the moment, I gave her permission to do whatever she thought was best.
‘Are you sure? You might have the idea that it is short already, but still a lot will come off. I am happy to do so, but only if you are one hundred percent convinced. Once I start there’s no turning back. If you really let me decide, I will take it all off. And I mean ALL. If you dare going short, why not take it to the limit? I know lots of guys that once they took the plunge, never wanted to go back to long.’
This was not what I had planned for. Still stuck in making a choice. Marly noticed my doubts. She combed all of my hair backwards and behind my ears. Then with her hand she covered what hair was left to see in the mirror. ‘I wouldn’t propose so if I wasn’t sure it would suit you.’
‘You mean bald? ‘
‘Yep. Somehow I sense that’s what you want. Cannot explain. Anyway you won’t have to worry about a bad haircut for a while.’ She gave me a smile. ‘Never done it before? If that’s the case, now that your style is ruined anyway, it’s the ideal opportunity to try. C ‘mon just go for it.’
Marly didn’t force me, but was very confident and persuasive. And I must admit she was right about my wish, that one day …. Well I was certain that I would regret it. On the other hand, no risk no fun.
‘Okay.’ Just a simple okay was all I cut speak. It was enough for Marly.
Marly asked me to switch chairs as she brought an ordinary – not barbers’ chair from the back of the salon. She caped me and started to comb my hair. For the last time in quite a while I feared. She got hold of a pair of shiny red clippers, that had a large guard on it.
To my surprise she came standing right in front of me. Very close to me and blinding my sight in the mirror. ‘Better you don’t look’ while caressing my head. She removed the guard from the clippers and bended over towards me. The only thing my eyes could catch at this moment was her cleavage. With her hand she lifted the hair on my forehead. I heard a click, followed by the buzzing sound of the clippers. With one decisive stroke she shaved a path right down the middle. I couldn’t see but it felt so cold that it must have left a trail of bare skin. I heard Marly breathing and fell it too. After making her first stroke she blew the cut hairs from my head. It felt like a summer breeze and had the smell of spring.
‘Didn’t expect you would let me. This is so much better …’
I didn’t response verbally, I just let my head sink more downwards till it rested on her breasts. Marly continued buzzing, this time back to front. Every pass she made stopping at my forehead which was laying on her and out of reach of the clippers. After clearing the top of my head fully, she really pressed my head down so she could shave the back of my head and my neck. Her breasts fell liked a firm but warm pillow rubbing the part of my head already naked.
I lost all awareness of time and place. I only returned to my senses when she lifted my chin, to shave the hair that was on the side and front of my head. She held my head very tenderly and gave my soft sensual smile. She didn’t need to see where her clippers were going, her mere instinct was more than enough to meticulously finish the job. With the clippers that was.
Marly took my hand and guided it to the top of my head. ‘Feel this?’
It felt like no hair, but still something very minimal covering my skull.
‘We’ll get this very smooth, don’t worry.’
I was passed being in the state of worry. In a way was both tensed and relaxed. Can’t explain. My body felt like it had been unplugged. Apart from one part where electricity ran through like crazy.
Without giving me the opportunity to see in the mirror, Marly was slowly shaking a can of shaving foam. With one giant spray – did she use the full content? – the creamy substance landed om my skull. With both hands, she started spreading it, gently, softly. Not forgetting a single spot on my head or neck.
As I moved a little, some of the foam landed on her cleavage.
‘Sorry.’
‘No problem. My fault. I should have taking this off.’ Marly slowly unbuttoned her blouse and let it slide from her shoulders, to the floor. To my big surprise she then loosened her bra. She was topless now and came sitting on my lap.
‘Now don’t sit still please’. Marly started with the razor. Slowly and sometimes a sudden fast move that make the foam land on her body. Marly took her time. Shaving my head bare naked. Apparently after some 15 minutes she was fished. She laid down the razor and grabbed a towel. Rubbing the tiny remains of foam from my head and then from her naked body.
She walked to the entrance of her salon, het body covered with the towel, put the closed sign in front of the window and returned to me. Reaching out her hand, asking ‘Are you coming?’ and led me upstairs to het apartment.
