Crush

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Crush

 

By Dreadlocks

 

I’d had the most wicked thoughts when it came to Alex Fuller. I am ashamed to admit that on more than one occasion, I had masturbated furiously while imagining him with his hands on my breasts and his inevitably sizeable cock thrust deep inside my sopping cunt. It was beginning to become an obsession.

Hi, my name is Theresa Bourne. I’m a freshman at Erie Community College, but that really has very little to do with the story I am about to tell you.

It was the beginning of my junior year at Franklin Senior High when I first set eyes on him, Alex that is. He had moved to the area from Chicago and was literally the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Of, course, I wasn’t alone in these feelings, and that drove me mad.

Every hot girl in school took their turns with the guy, leaving me and every other girl in school in the lurch. It wasn’t as though I was unattractive, far from it. I had boys lusting after me, but none that I really wanted. I had a pretty face, and a spotless complexion, with a body that was the rival of any of the popular girls. The one thing that seemed to drive the boys crazy, was my hair.

Ever since I was little, my mother had insisted on my wearing it long. It was blonde and hung in jet straight strands down my back, and I do mean ‘all the way’ down my back. It was long enough that I would occasionally sit on it, one of my pet peeves by the way.

I’d often thought about having it all chopped off, but everyone, meaning my friends and boys in our circle would beg me not to. So, in spite of my occasional self-destructive plans, I put up with the hair. I loved my hair, don’t get me wrong, but I could easily have lost a foot and still have it to the middle of my back.

So, after graduation, and the beginning of my last summer before college, I decided to finally take the plunge.

“You’re crazy, you know.” Allison spat, as I hung up the phone with my mother’s salon. Allison had been my BFF since eighth grade and had been urging me to abandon my plans for over three weeks, when I had first started talking about it.

“Relax, A. I’m only having a good trim.” I assured her.

“Bull shit! I heard you talking, and I distinctly heard you say ten or twelve inches.” She seethed, tugging at my hair, which had been braided into a long rope that morning, by her.

“It is my hair, you know.” I insisted, running my fingers through Allison’s chin-length bob. “I’d give anything to be so brave and have it cut like yours.”

“Terry! Don’t you dare. You know my mother makes me keep it this way, right?” Allison complained. It was true, of course. Like me, Allison was a very pretty girl, and her mother, in some desperate attempt to ward off attention had insisted upon her wearing her hair short, all through high school.

I still remember her dashing into my bedroom, that fateful day. Until then, we had both sported long hair. Her mother had forced her to go to a barbershop, of all things, and had her hair chopped off. And I do mean, chopped.

Her long chestnut mane had been ruthlessly butchered. All that remained was a bit to comb at the crown, and the sides buzzed down to stubble. She wept for what seemed like hours that afternoon.

She’d had short hair ever since, although never as short as that first drastic cut. I had even offered to have my own hair cut to match, but my mother quickly put the kibosh on that idea. Allison would never have heard of it anyway, so it was a moot point.

So, we were a little like Mutt and Jeff, me with my luxuriously long blonde tresses, and Allison with her endless variety of pixies and bobs. I think that it may have been her mother’s forceful hand that had Allison so adamantly against me cutting my locks.

That Wednesday, and yes, I remembered the day of the week for some reason, I made the trip to Ruby’s Hair Treat. My mother had been taking me there for trims for as long as I could remember. This was going to be different.

Maddy met me at the door, leading me into the back for what would be a bit more than a trim. Of course, Allison had tagged along, I think to ensure that I didn’t do anything crazy. So, when the stylist picked up her clippers and jokingly suggested, ‘All off?’, it was all for Allison’s benefit.

“What! Nooo! Don’t you dare!” She spouted, leaping out of the chair adjacent to mine. She had all but wrestled the clippers out of Maggy’s hand before I insisted that it was a joke.

“Relax, A. Jeez.” I chortled.

“That was mean.” She pouted, flouncing back into her chair.

Of course, what wasn’t a joke was the good fourteen inches of hair I had had cut from my ass-length mane. I thought Allison was going to cry when Maddy held up the lengthy ponytail. It was for a good cause, and that was the only thing that kept her from actually weeping, I think.

Maddy had said that virgin blonde hair was highly sought after by the charities that took in the severed locks. I tried to think of some little girl wearing my hair, and it gave me a warm feeling inside. In the end, my hair came just to my bra strap, and the weight off my neck was relief enough. I loved it.

The summer was much more comfortable too, not having to lug around that extra hair. I still had to tie it up on the hotter days, but to be honest, I was annoyed that I had waited so long to cut it.

Now, back to Alex Fuller, and the reason I am writing this little account. It was the first week of college, and I was just getting the lay of the land, so to speak. I had a break between two of my classes and had settled onto a leaf-covered knoll to read, when I saw him. It was definitely him.

To my utter delight, he made his way over to me, something that had never happened in high school. Oh, we’d talked in the hall, or in passing at lunch, but never had he gone out of his way.

“Theresa, right?” He asked.

Still a bit shocked by this sudden attention, I struggled to speak. Eventually, I managed. “Yes. Theresa… Terry is fine. Alex, right?” I had to at least make it seem as though I wasn’t under his spell, entirely. “Franklin High.”

“That’s the one. You’re going to school here?” He asked. “You’re the first girl I’ve seen here that I know.”

I wanted to jump for joy but managed to stay calm. “Really? Well, here I am.” Ugh, how stupid, I thought.

“You cut your hair.” He noticed.

I cringed inside, suddenly remembering that my best feature had been tonsured earlier that year. No noticeable growth had occurred since, and it still only just reached the middle of my back. “Yes. I donated it.” Wanting to at least give an excuse for the act of apparent self-destruction.

“That’s so cool. You look great, by the way… I mean… your hair looks really great.” He corrected himself.

I was amused by the sudden awkwardness in his approach, and it made me smile inside that he had complimented me. “Really? Everybody told me I was crazy for cutting it, but I’m glad I did.”

“Me too. To be honest, I’ve never really been a fan of long hair.” He set down his backpack and took a seat next to me.

I had to think, but I suddenly realized that most, if not all the girls he had dated in high school had shorter hair, or if they didn’t, they did by the time they broke up. Now, what he was saying made perfect sense, and I was never so happy that I had chopped off my hair as I was at that moment. “Me neither, to be honest. My mother insisted that I keep it long.”

“Well, we all grow up sometime.” He chuckled. His laugh sent dangerous ripples from my stomach, twisting into a knot right at the center of my sex.

“My mother wasn’t pleased about this, but she learned to deal. Besides, I turned eighteen over the summer, and her rule of tonsorial tyranny at an end.” I joked, theatrically.

One thing led to another, and we ended up going on a date the following Friday. I was over the moon, and even though Allison was green with envy, she tried her best to be supportive. “I can’t believe he liked your hair shorter.” She grumbled.

“Think about it, A. All the girls he dated in high school had shorter hair.” I explained.

“Then why didn’t he go out with me?” Allison reasoned. “Besides, you don’t exactly have short hair, Terry. I mean, it’s still long.”

“Yes, it is. Maybe not for long.” I joked.

“Don’t you let him talk you into anything. You’ll regret it, you know.” Allison warned.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just a date.”

And what a date. It was dinner and a movie, sure, but then the fireworks afterward were unforgettable. I was grateful he had his own place over his parent’s garage. I was almost ashamed of how easily he managed to get me naked, almost.

“You really look amazing.” Alex panted, as he broke from a kiss to look down between us. “I especially like this.” His hand wandered between my legs, spreading my hairless lips, now moist with my excitement. I had started shaving it after my freshman year, never really warming up to the messy thatch of golden curls which appeared there that year. They felt weird, and to be honest, they smelled. I just felt cleaner without them.

“Oh, well, I didn’t really like the way they felt.” A little embarrassed over his attention to their being gone.

“Well, I like it bald.” He eased his finger inside me, causing me to swoon a bit in his arms.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.” I kidded; regretting having said it. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re my first, actually.” He admitted.

“You mean you’re a…”

“No, oh, no, no, sorry. I mean You’re the first girl I’ve been with who shaves… down there.” He kissed me, his tongue sliding deliciously into my mouth.

“Well, I’m glad I’m the first one, then,” I whispered as he ran his lips down the side of my neck.

There was something almost surreal about seeing Alex Fuller with his face buried between my open legs. He was obviously a very practiced lover, but I had never experienced such joyful enthusiasm from someone eating my cunt. I must have come five times.

I wished that I had been as skilled when it came to pleasing him. His cock, as I had predicted, was large. Fully erect, it was at least eight inches and I could barely get it into my mouth. Eventually, though, I managed to allow the wonderfully sculpted phallus to the top of my throat.

As I worked, he eased his hands into my hair and began to help me please him, pushing my head onto him and testing my ability to swallow. During my attempts not to gag, I knew I had heard it.

His fingers were lodged hard against my scalp, my hair almost painfully pulled as he enjoyed me. Part of me found the experience a little demeaning, but the larger, sexual part, found it almost unbearably erotic.

Under his breath, I knew I had heard it. He had whispered something, and were my senses not incredibly overwrought, I would probably never have noticed.

‘It’s coming off, all of it. You’re gonna be my bald little bitch.’ So faintly as to be almost nothing, but I had heard it. He said it three times, and there was no mistake.

Finally, in a huge thrust, he came down my throat and it was all I could do to swallow his enormous load. I felt so dirty and so sexy, all at once. I had never been used or pleased so well in all my young years.

When we had both recovered a bit, and he was working up the energy to go again, I insisted that he fuck me. Never had my cunt been so full. I was no virgin, but it certainly felt as though I was.

I’d been on birth control since I turned seventeen, at my mother’s insistence, so this was truly carefree, and mind-blowing sex. With each thrust, I felt my insides shift, and it was something I had never felt before. It was certainly something I could learn to love. He was taking me his way, and I was enjoying it as much as he was.

We came together at the end, screaming so loudly between us that I wondered how on earth his parents wouldn’t hear us some hundred feet away and in a separate building.

Collapsing on top of me, I allow his cock to throb as it pumped me full of his seed. Each pulse sent waves of indescribable aftershocks through my clitoris. This was sex as I had never had it before.

“That was amazing.” I sighed, barely able to catch my breath.

“You, are amazing,” Alex whispered in my ear. The gesture reminded me of the mutterings I had overheard during my attempts at fellatio. What was this odd statement, and just what did he mean by it?

“What did you mean, when you were whispering? You know, when I was sucking you off?” I asked, turning on my side and propping my head up with my arm.

“Oh, nothing.” He said, embarrassed. “You didn’t hear that, right?”

“Uh…” I thought for a moment about lying, but then I tried to imagine what was going through his mind. “I’m gonna be your bald little bitch?” I finally divulged.

He quickly slipped out of the bed, disappearing into the small bath attached to his bedroom. I was sure then that this was not something he wanted to share. For whatever reason, I had to know. “Alex?”

“I’m sorry, Terry. Maybe you should go.” He sighed through the locked door.

“Alex. Open the door.” I insisted. “It’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry, Terry. I’m such a perv.” He grumbled.

“Open the door, Alex,” I said, more forcefully.

There was silence for a minute or so before he opened the door, but only a crack. It was enough for me to see him braced on the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. “How can you even look at me?”

“Hey. There are stranger things on the spectrum than a hair fetish, you know.” I said, honestly. “You could be into bondage, or S&M, or something.”

“You’re okay with it?” He asked, bewildered.

“I didn’t say I’d do it, but I’m alright with you being excited by it,” I said, in my own defense. At that moment, I wasn’t sure what I felt. What I did know was that I certainly didn’t want what just happened to be a one-timer.

“You must think I’m weird.” Alex managed, after I had extricated him from the small bath.

“You want to know what weird is?” I said, bravely. “Weird is having a crush on someone for two years, and never saying anything to him.”

A little astounded, he blushed. “You’ve had a crush on me?” He asked.

“Yep. Totally in lust. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized about what just happened tonight.” I must have turned every shade of red imaginable.

“Did you…”

“Masturbate? ‘Til I was sore, Alex.” I interrupted. “I’m the pathetic one here.”

“I used to see you, in school, you know. You looked so amazing. All these girls were throwing themselves at me, and all that time the one I really wanted, wanted me too? That’s crazy.” He chortled.

“Why didn’t you ask?” I sputtered.

“Why didn’t you?” We both broke into laughter at the absurdity of it.

The awkwardness defused, we relaxed for a while on the sofa, playing games and just being with each other. Finally, he shut off the console and turned me to face him. “I have a confession.”

“Okay. Why not.” I smiled. I had bared my dirtiest secrets with him.

“You’re kinda the reason I have this… hair fetish.” He sighed.

“What do you mean?” I asked, unconsciously running my fingers through my tangled hair.

“You have always had the most amazing hair, Terry. I mean, just fantastic hair.” He paused, as if working up the courage to tell me. “I used to fantasize about cutting it.” He waited for me to react, but when I didn’t, he continued. “I mean really cutting it, like off, you know.”

“Why?” I asked. I wasn’t all that shocked, but more curious than anything else.

“I just felt like if I did that, you would be mine, you know. It was like I had to make you mine, in order to have you. Eventually, in my fantasies, the cutting began to be more severe. I would jerk off to the thought of me running clippers over your head until all that was left was stubble.”

I gulped, audibly, imagining him doing just that. It was a frightening idea, but at the same time, almost erotic. “I don’t know whether I should humor you or run for my car.” I laughed.

“I couldn’t even imagine doing something like that to you now, knowing what I do.” It was a relief to hear, but something deep within me almost mourned for the notion being squelched. We left the evening there, but both of us took away more than we had bargained for.

“Oh, my god.” Allison chuckled, as I regaled her with the events of the evening before. I debated bringing up the whole haircut thing, but thought better of it, for fear she might discourage me from seeing him again. “How big?”

I held up my hands, trying not to exaggerate and finding that I didn’t even have to. She was shocked that I had done everything I did, but inwardly, I could see that she was envious of my night of debauchery.

“Did he say anything more about your hair?” Allison asked, and I honestly felt as though I had to lie but then imagined an out.

“He fantasized about it in high school,” I said, truthfully, leaving out the part about clipping it to the bone while he pumped his enormous rod. I suppose it was a lie by omission, but who hasn’t done that, even between friends?

Alex and I continued to see each other as my freshman year went on, and nothing seemed to diminish. Our lovemaking, which I could honestly call it by then, was more feisty and energetic than ever.

The one thing that never left my mind, but never mentioned again, was the hair. He seemed to have found peace in knowing that he had me, even without marking me as his own. To be honest, I often longed to hear him whisper those words again. I had even begun to fantasize about it.

Finally, with the fantasy now strong within me; and I have to question my motives, I decided to try something a bit naughty. We had engaged in quite a bit of foreplay and Alex had just placed his wonderful cock at the entrance to my cunt. Both incredibly hot, I dared say the words.

“Make me your bald little bitch.” I didn’t whisper, it would have been an impossible feat as excited as we both were.

“What?” He asked, hovering ever so close, the mushroom head of his penis stretching me ever so slightly. I was almost intimidated by the look on his face, as though I had awakened a monster.

Mustering all the courage I held within me, I managed to utter the words again. “Make me your bald little bitch.”

Before I knew what was happening, Alex had yanked me out of the bed by the arms. “I’m not even going to ask if you want it. But I am going to make you beg.” He scolded, grabbing my head by my long blonde locks and opening my lips with his cock. He thrust deep, my throat expanding to take him deep. Suddenly he pulled me off, gasping for air. “Beg, Bitch!”

Delirious, I spluttered, spittle drooling onto my chin. “I want it, I’m begging you.” I managed before he rammed his meat back home, my tonsils spreading as he thrust deep into my neck.

Again, he pulled me off, the drool splattering over my breasts. “What do you want? Say it, Bitch!” He shouted, almost frighteningly aggressive.

I tried to gather myself, but he pulled my head back by my hair and leaned in close, and I had no choice. “I’m begging you. Shave it. Make me bald. Make me your bitch!” Shocked by the depravity of my words and fully aware of the ramifications, I closed my eyes.

“Milk it, nice and easy.” He seemed more gathered, but his cock was rigid and thicker than I had ever felt it. Rummaging in a drawer, I heard them before I felt them. “You begged for this. Now, you will be mine.”

Had his cock not been buried in my mouth I would have certainly gasped. I felt the clippers pressed almost too firmly at the top of my forehead before being pushed back over the top. I saw blonde silk tumble past my face and onto my arms which were locked firmly around Alex’s legs. It tickled as it drifted down my back and over my rounded ass.

He pressed deeper as he took long bold strokes with the whirring machine, and I very nearly gagged with his enthusiasm. I could feel his panting breath on my scalp now, and I knew that the entire top of my head was without hair.

The cold breeze on the inside of my thighs was most certainly my own arousal as it seeped wantonly out of my cunt. The clippers were nipping at the sides now, and my ears felt suddenly cold with the exposure, lost for their covering of so many years. I felt more naked in that moment than I had ever felt.

Suddenly there was silence, save for the perverted slobbering sound I made as Alex’s cock slid in and out, in and out. For the first time, I felt his hands on my bald head, and it was a revelation. I very nearly came from that contact, my fingers wandering down to stroke myself without shame.

As aroused as I was, Alex seemed mesmerized by the realization of what he had just done. “Now, you are my bald little Bitch.” He sighed, as I pleased him and myself. The rubbing of his hands over my scalp grew more frantic as he got closer, my strokes deepening and his cock salty with precum.

Without my hair to grab, he latched onto my naked scalp with his open palms and pushed my mouth down onto him, gasping as the first hot jets of cum hit the back of my throat. Nearly drowning in his come, I flew off the precipice I had been skirting, no longer edging myself, moaning around his seed as I exploded from within.

Exhausted, we staggered to the bed, too tired and drunk from sex to consider what had just happened.

I awoke with a start, the foreign sensation against my head almost too real. The satin of the pillow seemed to be riding along the skin under my hair and I tried to rationalize why. Raising a hand to my head, everything from the night before came crashing down on me. I was bald.

There was a wisp of stubble to be sure, but only enough to add the slightest resistance as my fingers explored my new nakedness. “You wanted to be his bald little bitch.” I mumbled, pulling the pillow over my head as the reality of it hit home. I was really fucking bald.

Then I had the most horrible thought. Sitting straight up in bed, I realized that I was alone. Where was Alex? I ran to the window that looked out over the driveway, only to find that his car was conspicuously missing. My Honda was there, and I dreaded the thought of resuming my life as I was.

It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t even seen myself. Rushing to the bathroom, I was confronted by a sea of golden locks strewn about the floor, practically covering it. I slowly raised my head, examining the strange-looking creature staring back from the other side of the glass.

Everything looked bigger, and I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. My eyes looked wide and huge, their bright blue hue almost too much for my face, which seemed to go on forever. My eyebrows seemed out of place, perched in the center of an otherwise pale palette. It was my ears that struck me hardest of all.

Hidden beneath the blanket of my hair all these years, I never realized just how prominent they really were. Without my hair to cover them, they were like two unapologetic clam shells, reaching for space on both sides. I pressed them against my skull for a moment, only to have them spring back to their obtuse positions once again.

I wasn’t exactly hideous, but I certainly wasn’t the glorious blonde goddess I had been a few hours before. I heard some noise from the stairs and realized that Alex had returned. I quickly grabbed a towel, wrapping my head with it in shame. He couldn’t see me like this.

I quickly came to my senses, considering that it was his hand that had rendered me bald in the first place. Still, I left the towel in place as he opened the door to his apartment.

“You’re up.” He said, soberly.

“I’m bald,” I said in return, allowing the towel to fall to the floor amongst my fallen pride.

“I am so sorry. Oh, my sweet Theresa. What I did. God, what was I thinking.” He moaned, setting a package down on the counter in the small kitchenette.

“I asked you to do it, remember?” I sighed, running a hand over my starkly bald pate. I almost expected a comment about my ears, but he said nothing. Instead, he held out the package he had brought up. “What’s this?”

“Just open it.” He managed, softly, reaching out to caress my scalp, his fingers tracing the outline of my one ear.

“They’re huge.” I moaned.

“They’re sexy.” He countered, pulling slightly at the one as I opened the bag.

Inside was a rather posh-looking box, gold lettering and all. Lifting it out of the bag I set it on the counter, suddenly realizing what it was. He had bought me a wig. Excitedly, I unzipped the top, flipped open the box to reveal a very sharp-looking bob. By the look and feel of it, it had to be real hair.

“This must have cost a fortune.” I scolded.

“You’re worth every penny.” Alex lifted the wig off the pedestal and carefully fitted it onto my head. The fine stubble caused some resistance as the webbing stretched to fit my bald knob. But fit it did, and perfectly.

I admired myself in the mirror, the chin-length bob a totally new look for me, and far superior to what lay beneath. I swung my head back and forth, loving the feel of the natural fibers against my cheeks. “Allison is going to kill me.”

“At least you can just tell her you got it cut, rather than shaved completely off.” Alex supposed.

“She’s going to find out sooner or later, lover. I may as well get it over with.” I slipped the expensive wig off my head and placed it reverently back on its stand. “I’m not really a fan of this stubble.” I smiled wickedly. “Can we do something about that?”

I saw Alex get hard, as tight as his jeans were, and I knew I had struck a chord. “So, does this mean you’ll keep it this way for a while?” He asked, reticently.

“My dearest Alex. Do remember who asked for this.” I sauntered back to the bathroom, kneeling in my own hair as Alex lathered my head. So, as the last of my hair was slowly scraped away, I pondered how two young crushes had so nearly missed one another, passing, like ships in the night. How fortunate that, every once in a great while, ships do meet again.

9 responses to “Crush

    1. Thank you! I like to dabble in straight sexual relationships once in a while to keep my mind open, being gay myself. This story called for a little research on my part, but was fun to write. Some might wonder how a devout lesbian could write straight fiction, especially erotica. It’s not all that hard. It’s not a particular turn on for me to write it, but I know some of my readers appreciate it. I did press the “x” rated button only for the graphic nature of the sex, but kept things consensual for a reason, with the appearance of force. Thanks for your support and continued readership.
      Claire

  1. I know I do, lol. When my partner uses toys on me, I love it deep. I imagine straight women like it for the same reason, but not as a rule. For instance, Although I like to be probed that way, my wife does not, saying it’s uncomfortable. I suppose it’s all person preference. Thanks for the question and for reading.
    Claire

  2. Hi Claire,

    Whoa that was a fantastic story! I loved the interaction between Alex and Terry. It was great that Alex pleased Terry orally as part of their sexual activity. Knowing that Terry wanted to finally be shaved bald by Alex was amazing to read. You really painted a vivid picture of the whole scene.

    This story has to be one of my all-time favorites of yours. You are an incredible writer!

  3. that is EASILY THE BEST written story i’ve read – anywhere on the net! Seriously! the topic of course was hot hot hot but the writing, the grammar – all perfect! you mush be an English Major! 😉 great job!!

  4. Thank you, once again, for all the kind comments. To be honest, I am flattered that this story was so well received. To Ed: I actually was an English major at university and as some here are aware, currently make my living in the vanilla world as a mainstream author of romantic fiction. Although my publisher and editor are well aware of my more erotic offerings, they insist that I keep the two well separated. To be honest, I enjoy the freedom this genre offers, and so keep it as an avocation.
    Claire

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