The Crush – Chapter 2: Sex and a Haircut (In No Particular Order)

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The evaluation of Nicole’s work (my perm) the next day went brilliantly. She received top marks in all categories with special emphasis given to curl shape due to the combination wrap that she had used. Much to my delight she hugged me over and over throughout the day as she continued to thank me profusely for stepping up to help her.

In my opinion, however, she had done me a favor. I quickly fell in love with my new barnet [editor’s note: barnet is cockney rhyming slang for hair “barnet fair = hair” which is used with some frequency throughout the UK] and found it to be a lot more versatile than I’d expected. Depending on how I fixed it I could get tighter or looser ringlets or even sleek, wavy barrel curls. I could pull it back off my face with a claw clip and I could even still put it into a wee ponytail with the front bits left framing my face. My favorite thing to do, though, was to leave it down and scrunch the dickens out of my curls to give them as much texture as I possibly could. Then I’d blast ’round my head with a can of hairspray and head out the door feeling invincible.

Next Monday I only had to work a half day at the salon and didn’t have any classes. I was really looking forward to catching up on a few programmes that I was watching. American television wasn’t bad, but in my mind it couldn’t hold a candle to my British favorites. I had Sherlock and Downton Abbey waiting for me and I was trying to catch up on several years of not watching the new Doctor Who. My, oh my, did that Karen Gillan make me think impure thoughts. And we were from the same hometown too! Then she went and shaved her head for Guardians of the Galaxy and I nearly shat myself. At first I didn’t know whether a bald lass would be attractive (Sinead O’Connor just didn’t do it for me), but that head shave gave me a good month of masturbatory fantasies.

Just before noon, as I was finishing up a haircut on a young lad, Lauren, another beauty school student who was working today as the receptionist came back to my station. “You have a gal here asking for you for a haircut, do you wanna stay for a little bit and take her?”

“I do?” I asked. “Do you know her name?” I had a few men whose hair I’d cut a couple of times and they kept coming back to me, but I didn’t have any female regulars.

“Lemme check,” Lauren said heading back to the reception desk. I wracked my brain trying to figure out which women I knew, that knew that I worked here, would come in for a haircut. “It’s a Darlene Hall,” she said as she got back to my station and looked at her nails, waiting for a reply.

“Oh, um, yeah, I’ll take her,” I said and Lauren headed back to the desk. Darlene Hall, I thought. Darlene was the girl that I’d lost my ‘lesbian’ virginity to a little over a year ago. Had it been that long? She had probably been the closest thing to a friend I had out of that group of girls, but still, other than hanging out a bit and fiddling about, well, a lot, we weren’t really close. And I hadn’t seen her in months; I wasn’t even aware that she knew that I worked here.

I finished up with the boy’s hair and cleaned up my station and then I went up to reception and called, “Darlene.” I looked across the waiting area at the girl who’d stood and indeed, it was that very same Darlene.

She smiled a bit shyly as she looked at me and said, “Hi Caitlin, long time, no see.”

“Yes it’s good to see you,” I replied. Though this was a bit weird, it really was good to see her.

As she hung her jacket on the coat rack I began to glance over the body that once I had known quite well. Darlene wasn’t flat-chested, but her breasts were small. If I remembered right, her nipples were quite perky. She had a nice plump arse that filled out the tight skinny jeans that she was wearing. Her high-arched brows and prominent cheekbones gave her a very distinguished look to go along with piercing brown eyes. She had straightened the little bit of wave in her nearly black hair which fell just a bit past her bra strap, a few inches longer than I remembered. I led her back to my station and pulled a cape round her neck after she sat down in the chair. “First things, first,” I said, “how did you know that I work here?”

“Please don’t be mad at me,” she begged. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately and I really miss you. I know that what we had was just supposed to be well, you know, but I connected with you. I really like you Caitlin. So, I went online and tracked you through social media. I don’t want to be a stalker, but I had to see you.”

Whoa, this was a big step for a shy lass who had moved out of her parents’ home in Las Vegas just a year and a half ago for fear that her family would find out that she was gay. Actually that’s something that we have in common, I thought. At that I started to feel a bit of sympathy for Darlene. We were both young and trying to figure out who we were, and hey, she was pretty cute. What the hell, I decided to be flattered by her actions rather than angry.

“That’s actually very sweet of you,” I said. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t I give you my home address and you can come over tonight for a cuppa and we can catch up, how does that sound?”

“Really?” she said, “that would be fantastic. Oh and I already have your home address,” she added sheepishly.

Once again I had to suppress a bit of anger and surprise, but I put a smile on my face and asked, “so, is that why you came in, to get back in touch with me?”

“Well, yes and no,” Darlene responded. “I’ve also been thinking about doing something a little different with my hair. Once I found out that you work here I can’t get the thought of you cutting my hair out of my head.”

“I think I can do something about that,” I said, chuckling. “Do you just want a bit off the ends or were you looking for something more significant.”

“Well, I’ve kind of had this fantasy …,” Darlene began slowly, “of having my hair cut like Quorra in Tron: Legacy.”

“Oh!” The request caught me off guard and I wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Well, that’s kind of a, well, not too great of a movie, isn’t it?” was all that would initially come out.

“I agree that it’s not the greatest movie,” Darlene said, “but Olivia Wilde is my favorite actress, she’s so talented and ”

“Gorgeous,” we both said at practically the same time.

“Sometimes I just stare into those hazel eyes and imagine that I’m falling into them,” Darlene continued with a dreamy look on her face.

I opened the drawer at my station and pulled out my phone. Within a few seconds, while Darlene was continuing to note Olivia Wilde’s best qualities (and there are many), I had found a couple of pictures to show her to make sure that we were on the same page.

“Yep, that’s it,” Darlene said excitedly as I showed her the pictures on my phone.

“And you like the asymmetrical look in the length, chin length on the left and lip length on the right?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied getting almost giddy as we discussed the cut.

“And asymmetrical for the fringe as well?”

“Fringe, what’s that?” Darlene’s expression quickly went from smiling to confused.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I mean bangs. We use a different word for them in the UK,” I apologized.

“Really? That’s cool, maybe I’ll start calling them ‘fringe’,” Darlene replied, saying the word with a really bad accent that made me laugh. “Frankly, I love every part of that haircut except for the back, the back just looks a little, I don’t know, frumpy, maybe,” she finished.

“Well, in the movie they used a wig,” I noted, “so they had to leave some extra length to cover the transition between the wig and Olivia’s neck. If you want, we can take the back down shorter and make it look a little bit sleeker.”

“That sounds perfect,” Darlene smiled again. “Oh, I’m so excited for this!”

“Ok, then, let’s get you washed,” I said. Darlene stood up and I led her back to the washing station and sat her down. As I started rubbing the shampoo through her hair, the memory of Nicole doing the same thing to me rushed back to my mind. It was as if I was vicariously feeling the sensations of Nicole massaging my scalp with her fingertips as I did the same to Darlene.

I must have been lost in the memory of those sensations for a while when Darlene let out a little sigh and said softly, “best shampoo ever.” I guess it was having the same effect on her as it was on me.

After snapping out of my wee trance, I pulled a towel around Darlene’s wet hair and led her back to my station. “We’re going to start by setting the length on the longer side,” I said. “Are you ready to lose some hair?”

“Let’s do this!” she said, and then she squealed. Yes, she actually squealed like a schoolgirl.

I parted her hair on the right side and combed through the length. It was healthy and thick and such a deep, dark brown that you could just as well call it black. Once everything was combed and ready, I placed my open shears along the left side of her chin. I took in a wee breath and held it, a strange little habit I’d developed when starting a haircut, and closed the scissors with a sharp schnick.

We both watched as eight long inches of raven hair tumbled onto and over Darlene’s left breast and into her lap. I followed with a second snip, then a third; long strands of silky hair began to accumulate on the yellow cape that was draped over Darlene. I paused for a moment looking at the severed hair and marveling at how long it was. I don’t think I’d ever cut this much hair off of anybody and it was kind of getting me going.

As I finished bringing the cut up along the jaw line I noticed a few tears trickling down Darlene’s cheeks. “Oh, no, are you alright?” I asked.

“Oh,” Darlene laughed, wiping the tears from her face, “yes, I’m fine. I’m actually crying because I’m happy. Today is the culmination of a lot of soul searching and emotional effort.”

“You mean to come here to the salon?” I asked.

“Well, it’s more than that,” said Darlene. “I decided last week that it was time to tell my family that I’m lesbian. I called my parents last night. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but it actually went really well. My mom was okay with it and my dad said he’d need some time to process it, but that he loved me and that he always would. I really couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“Good work, then,” I said. “I still haven’t come out to my family and it’s something that makes me really nervous.”

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, that’s for sure,” Darlene replied. “Anyway, as we got talking, I told my parents about you and how I felt about you and they told me to do something about it. To at least talk to you and tell you how I feel, so here I am.” She wiped her cheeks once more. “Really this haircut is a defining point in my life. I’ve accepted who I am and won’t be ashamed of it.”

I was touched. Darlene had really been through a lot recently, and she was really putting herself out there for me. No one had ever really done that before. I quickly realized that any anger I may have felt earlier was sorely misplaced.

I let this thought linger in silence as I moved to the right side and cut Darlene’s hair to lip length. Even longer locks were now tumbling down over her right breast and into the same pile on her lap.

Now that I had brought each side up to length, I needed to connect them in the back. Since Darlene was on board with taking the back down shorter I pulled the upper part of the back of her hair (actually for the moment it was her mullet) up into a pony tail and secured it up on top of her head. I combed through the remaining long hair in the back before grabbing the clippers.

“I’m going to take all this hair off the back now, so don’t let the clippers startle you,” I said to Darlene as I snapped on the number 2 attachment. “We’ll take it down to about 5 millimeters I think that’s about a quarter of an inch. It will look brilliant against the asymmetrical line.”

Even with the warning, Darlene jumped when I flipped the switch on the clippers with a pop. I quite enjoyed their weight in my hand and the feeling of their familiar hum. I carefully lifted the thick, dark hair and set the vibrating clippers at the nape of Darlene’s neck. I slowly pushed the clippers up into her hair and smiled as at least 10 inches was separated from the back of her head and slipped, oh so gracefully, to the floor. It only took a few more passes to reduce the bottom two inches of Darlene’s nape to soft, fuzzy perfection.

“Oh. My. God!” Darlene exclaimed as I clippered off the final strip of hair from her nape. “That is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever felt. I’ve never had my hair cut with buzzers before; that was incredible! I might have to start playing with my dildo in that area now that I know what it feels like.” She was grinning from ear to ear.

“Would you like to feel it?” I asked. I didn’t give her time to answer but simply grabbed her hand from the armrest and lifted it to the back of her neck.

“Wow, it’s so soft. I love it!” she exclaimed. Her enjoyment of the haircutting experience was obviously contagious as a broad smile spread across my face and a burst of laughter escaped my lips.

I unpinned the remaining long hair and let it fall down past her shoulders and hang limply in place. I took a half step back to plan the line that would connect the right and left sides of Darlene’s new haircut and then I dove back in with the scissors to execute my plan.

Once the back had been sorted it looked incredible, by the way it came time to put in the fringe. I sectioned off a triangle of hair from the front of her head. It looked a bit silly when I combed the hair down in front of Darlene’s face as the length on the right side was different from the length on the left side due to her asymmetrical cut. Because the left side extended down to mid-eye but the right side needed to end above the eyebrow, I wasn’t going to be able to use the typical twist-and-cut method that I’d become fond of. Instead I began to point cut the longer side to length and worked my way up to the shorter side. Darlene occasionally pursed her lips and blew off tufts of black hair that had settled on her face from her newly forming bangs.

Within a few minutes I’d finished with the scissors and had cleaned up her neckline with a wee hand-held trimmer. As I unfastened the cape the great pile of hair slid off of Darlene’s lap and onto the floor. I watched her beaming at herself in the mirror and realized that the shy, timid Darlene had fallen to the floor with the hair that I’d cut. She exuded confidence and self-assurance as she walked with me back to the front desk to pay.

“Are we still on for tonight?” she asked as I ran her credit card.

“Absolutely,” I replied, “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Your curly hair is ravishing, by the way,” she added, taking her receipt. “I’ll see you later, gorgeous.”


I paced back and forth in my flat, not quite sure what to think or feel. It was flattering to have Darlene show me that much attention. The feeling of having somebody want you is exhilarating. And she looked so damn sexy with the asymmetrical bob; especially the clippered nape. Oh, god, I just wanted to feel it, to rub my hand over it, up and down, over and over. She was going to drop by, that meant that I’d get to see her again, but what would happen? I’d said that we would catch up. Talk. Would that lead to something else?

And what about Nicole? Just this morning I’d been convinced that Nicole was the one that I wanted, but now I wasn’t so sure. I mean, as far as I knew, Nicole was straight, and I didn’t exactly have a banger for her to suck. Aw, fuck it, I thought, what do I have to lose? Nicole and I were just friends and roommates; there wasn’t even a spark of a relationship there. I decided that it just made sense to see where things went with Darlene.


I changed clothes three times. I didn’t want to seem too dressed up, like this was a date. But then again, I didn’t want to seem dowdy or lazy either. I settled on a tight black jumper and a pair of denim jeans. I touched up my makeup and plumped my hair up to its full curly volume after all, Darlene had complimented it specifically. I brewed a pot of tea, Scottish blend of course, and set out some jammie dodger biscuits that I’d ordered online. I continued my pacing, trying to calm my nerves and telling myself that there was no pressure; this was just a visit between two friends.

My heart nearly leapt out of my chest at the sudden knock on the door. I noticed my hand shaking slightly as I pulled back the bolt and turned the knob. Darlene was still wearing the same skinny jeans and turquoise blouse from earlier in the day. One hand was holding onto the neck of her jacket, which was casually slug over her shoulder and the other hand held a bottle of wine.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding the bottle out toward me, “I know you said tea, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh, that’s no problem at all,” I replied, taking the wine to the kitchen and rummaging around in a drawer for a corkscrew. When I stood back up Darlene was right in front of me. She placed her right hand gently along my cheek and pressed her body against mine all the while staring deep into my eyes. When I didn’t object, she leaned in and kissed me hard on the mouth, backing me up against the cabinets. I took advantage of the opportunity to grasp the thin, naked back of her neck and began running my fingers over the soft, buzzed felt that blanketed her nape.

Darlene slipped her tongue out from between my lips just long enough to say, “god, Caitlin, that feels so damn good.” She grabbed the base of my jumper and pulled it up over my head, quickly stripped it from my arms and dropped it to the floor. She reached up and cupped both of my breasts through my black lace bra and led me over to the sofa.

Before lying down I quickly stripped off my breeks and my panties when suddenly Darlene said, “oh, no I’m so embarrassed.”

“What?” I asked. “Why are you embarrassed? I want this too. I really want this.”

“It’s not that at all,” she responded. “It’s just that, well, I didn’t plan ahead very well look.” Darlene unbuttoned her trousers and dropped them to her knees then pulled down her underwear. Her fanny [editor’s note: fanny is common slang in Great Britain for a woman’s genitals] was buried under a great bush of black hair. “My pussy’s not really ready for this,” she offered by way of explanation.

By this point I was so randy that I wasn’t going to let anything stand in the way of me putting my tongue on Darlene’s clitoris, so I ran to get my old pair of shears. “Meet me in the bathroom,” I told her, and added, “naked!”

Once in the loo, I stood Darlene next to the open toilet. I grabbed a handful of black curls and began to crunch through them close to the skin with the shears. Once they’d been shorn I tossed them into the bowl and grabbed another handful. After several fistfuls of pubic hair had been cut, Darlene’s mound was adorned by a scraggly mess of short black stubble. I reached into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out a can of shaving cream and a brand new safety razor.

“This is so hot!” Darlene exclaimed. “I want you so much right now!”

“You’ll have me in a moment,” I reassured her, “now hold still.”

I dispensed a bit of the shave cream into my hand and began to rub it all over Darlene’s nearly nude lady parts. She moaned with pleasure and leaned back against the wall so that she could press her pelvis against my hand. Once everything was covered I took the razor and carefully began to remove the cream, taking the hair that was underneath with it. The soft rasping sound of each stroke of the razor was accompanied by a little gasp from Darlene. “Hold still!” I admonished again, “I don’t want to cut you.”

After the shaving was finished we quickly returned to the couch. I immediately dove into Darlene’s vag and began working my tongue hard against her clit. She was running her hands through my curls, lightly grabbing and pulling on them as well as rubbing her fingertips into my scalp. “These curls are fucking sexy,” she said, between gasps and moans. “Did you get a perm?”

The image of Nicole rolling my hair on perm rods briefly flashed into my head, but I forced it away and simply replied, “uh huh,” as my tongue was still in Darlene’s hole. After a few more seconds of me going down on her, Darlene bucked and writhed with climax. After a few more kisses we switched positions. I lay back on the couch and she began to eat me out while reaching up and playing with my nipple. Just as I was about to climax, I heard the sound of jingling keys being inserted into the lock on the door. Darlene must have heard it too as she stopped fucking me, though her head was still between my legs. Much to my horror, the door opened and in stepped Nicole, keys in one hand, shopping bag in the other.

As soon as her eyes rose from the doorknob to the sofa, she dropped both the bag and the keys and brought both hands up to cover the gasp that was escaping her mouth. I didn’t know exactly what she was thinking, but the horrified look on Nicole’s face led me to the only conclusion that I could express verbally.

“Oh, bollocks!”

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