Darkness to Light

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I looked in the mirror, watching the goings on in the salon around me. The stylist had been called to reception before he’d even made a start on me and here I was feeling abandoned. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to try somewhere new. I’d always been treated as if I was the only person in the world when I’d been to my usual salon, but when Ruth had told me that she’d be on maternity leave before my next appointment, I’d hesitated. I didn’t want anyone else to do my hair. She’d done it for years and now she was abandoning me. Selfish, I know, but what was I to do? When she’d offered to make me an appointment with one of the other stylists, I’d dithered and said that I’d call when I knew what my plans were, but I hadn’t. Instead, I’d come to a random salon in town because it was new and I thought that it looked interesting. I still thought that it looked interesting, but I’d been ‘parked’ without so much as a cup of coffee. Would it be rude just to get up and walk out? Probably, which is why I was still sitting there when the stylist eventually came back.

‘Sorry about that, some woman was on the phone moaning that her husband didn’t like what I’d done for her. She was happy when she left here, but him indoors doesn’t approve. What does she expect me to do, glue it back on?’ he said.

I looked at him in the mirror. He was young, probably not that much older then my son. He could’ve been my son, if my son had been an effeminate hairdresser with little self-awareness. He reminded me of someone off one of those awful reality TV shows that I hated. And then he touched my neck. Just a touch of his fingertips. Touching in a way that probably had little to do with hairdressing, but which was cleverly disguised. That got my attention.

‘Now then beautiful, what are we going to do with you?’ he asked.

Not the way that I’d ever been addressed in a hair salon before. I was flustered. His fingers maintained contact, but were no longer moving.

‘I usually just have a good trim every six weeks’ I replied, trying to sound normal.

‘So why not just do that then? Why come to a different salon?’

‘My normal stylist has just gone on maternity leave. Forced my hand, you know’ I said, trying to keep my sentences brief. There was a strange dynamic at play. I looked at him. Hips off to one side, pensive, confident.

‘So this is a chance to break out of a rut then?’ he asked.

‘I don’t think I’m in a rut, I just need someone to keep me going until my usual stylist gets back.’

‘Just playing around a little while you’ve got the chance?’

‘Doing what I need to’ I replied curtly.

‘You may as well enjoy your day in the sun while you can. Have a little fun’ he said, his fingertips doing a little shuffle just behind my ear.

‘If you say so’ I replied.

‘I say so’ he said, taking his fingertips away and putting his hand on my shoulder. He looked at me, expectantly. I’m not sure what he wanted me to say. I wasn’t washed, wasn’t even gowned at this stage. Just sitting there, with a young man’s hand on my shoulder. I wondered if he did this for everyone or whether I was getting special treatment as a first-timer. He looked pensive and then took his hand off my shoulder, moved it up my neck and through my hair.

I’d had my hair in a medium-length bob pretty much since I turned forty, so it’d been the same way for the best part of five years. Ruth had cut it into the bob the first time I went to her. That was just after my house move, just after my divorce. Classic situation, get rid of the man, get rid of the hair. He hadn’t been that bad, we’d just grown apart, so maybe my haircut wasn’t that radical because of that. Bra strap to collar. It had stayed that way ever since. Trips to Ruth had been relaxing and uneventful. I knew what to expect from her, but now I had no idea what was going through this guy’s head. If I’d been a man, I’d be worried about his intentions from the way that he’d touched me, but I felt pretty safe. I was confident that I wasn’t his type by a long way!

‘What are we going to do with this?’ he asked, looking at me in the mirror. His right hand had joined his left in working through my hair. His touch was firm, firmer than was necessary, whatever it was that he was doing. I let my eyes wander the full range in the mirror to try to see if anyone was looking, if anyone was aware what was going on. Everyone was just going about their business. Perhaps it was just my nerves.

‘What do you suggest?’ I ventured, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

‘If you really want to know, I think you should come out’ he said. I paused.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked, thinking the obvious, but wanting to avoid it. I’m a middle-aged mother of a seventeen year old, quite sure that I’m firmly rooted in the conventional sexual path. Not averse to a little experimentation, but not a million miles away from a confirmed missionary, if you know what I mean.

‘You’re hiding behind this’ he said, flicking my hair aside dismissively. ‘Get out from behind it, strip off, go naked, show the world what you’ve got’ he said confidently.

‘Wow’ I said ‘you’ve certainly got a way with words.’

‘Just saying, you know. You don’t have to be dowdy and middle-aged.’

‘If that’s what I look like to you, I think I’d better go somewhere else’ I said sharply, reaching up to take his hand off my shoulder.

‘You could do that. Or you could stay and I’ll show you what you could be’ he said. I thought of what he’d said about that phone call.

‘Is that what you said to that other lady? Told her you’d make her something and it wasn’t what her husband liked? Is that it?’

‘I don’t know. I did what she wanted. Anything else is between her and her man’ he replied starkly.

‘Well, I think it’s best if I just go’ I replied.

‘Aren’t you a little bit curious? he asked.

‘About what?’

‘About what I could do for you’ he replied confidently.

‘And what would that be?’

‘Something different. We don’t have to go short. If you don’t want to do that, you could go jet black. I’ve got a friend who’d go to town on your make up. I see you with really dark, heavy make-up, tight leather jumpsuit, that sort of thing.’

I paused. ‘In your dreams’ I replied.

‘Yeah, sorry, that was my mother. Oops’ he replied.

I looked at him. He laughed. I laughed. ‘You’re too much’ I added.

‘That’s what all the girls say’ he retorted. I raised my eyebrows. He was too young to remember Warren Beatty, but that whole scenario from ‘Shampoo’ was playing through my mind.

‘I’ve only just walked through the door and you’re already making me blush’ I said.

‘Bit more interesting than your other stylist, eh?’ he said.

‘You could say that.’

‘So are you going to let me have my way with you?’ he asked, locking eyes with me in the mirror.

There was something about this guy, something interesting. On the face of it, he was the most effeminate guy I’d ever met, but here he was toying with me. I was old enough to be his mother, older than his mother possibly, but he was coming on to me. Unless it was all part of the act.

‘If I say yes, what do you propose?’ I asked, slightly worried as to what the answer would be.

‘Well, there’s a room in the back, we could go there where we won’t be disturbed’ he said.

I waited for him to smile that smile of his. It didn’t come.

‘You’re serious? A room in the back? What would your colleagues think about that?’

‘Nothing. We get clients who’d rather be done away from the main salon. We all use it.’

‘And you think I’d go in there with you?’

‘I think you’re thinking about it.’

‘And what’s going to happen to me in there?’

‘Anything you want’ he replied. I looked at him. I used the mirror again to look around the room to see if anyone was watching. Still there was no interest.

‘I must be mad’ I said, looking at him while shifting forward in the seat.

‘That’s more like it’ he said and held out a hand to indicate which way he wanted me to go. I walked ahead of him, feeling that everyone was watching, but no-one was. I walked past the row of basins and towards a plain door. I turned to him for confirmation, and opened it. It was dark, but then he reached past me and turned the light on. It was a mini-salon. I heard a noise and turned. His hand was just moving away from the bolt. He’d locked us in.

‘Is that necessary?’

‘Maybe’ he teased. He was standing by a full-length mirror. ‘Come and stand here’ he said. I walked towards it and looked at myself, slightly ill-at-ease.

‘Now, how would you like to see yourself? Black 1920s flapper bob, leather jumpsuit clinging to your curves?’ He ran a hand over my scalp. ‘Cropped, bright red, corset, stockings?’ He tugged at my hair. ‘Skinhead, naked?’ he asked quietly, his head closer to mine all of a sudden.

‘You’ve got quite an imagination’ I
said, questioning the wisdom of coming back here with him.

‘And it’s all yours’ he said, with a little tug on the hank of hair he was gripping.

‘What if I say none of the above?’

‘They’re your choices, that’s all I’m offering’ he replied flatly.

‘And you think I’m going to say yes to one of those? Being turned into some sort of Goth, a scarlet harlot or what was the other one? A skinhead? You’re mad.’

‘Scarlet harlot? I like the sound of that’ he chuckled.

‘I’m sure you know where to find one, if you want one.’

‘I prefer to make my own’ he replied.

‘Don’t let me stop you’ I said. He looked at me and then I realised what I’d said. ‘I didn’t mean me, I meant that you should feel free to make whatever you want. In you own time. Without me being there.’

‘The lady wants me to release her inner harlot’ he goaded.

‘You know what I mean’ I replied defensively.

‘I do indeed. Come over here’ he said, gesturing to the solitary styling chair.

‘I’m not sitting down until I know what you’re going to do’ I protested.

‘Who said anything about sitting down. Put your hands here for me’ he urged, tapping the back of the chair. I looked at him. He tapped again. I put my hands there tentatively.

‘Now shuffle back a bit’ he said. He saw that I was about to let go of the chair. ‘Don’t let go’ he said. I looked at him and did what he said. I was standing behind the chair, leaning on the back, bent from the waist. I watched in the mirror as he stood behind me. With a different partner, I’d have known what was about to happen. With this guy, who knew. The hand on my backside was unexpected, as was the squeeze and the movement of his hand down my thigh. I went to stand upright, but his other hand pressed gently against the small of my back.

‘I’m just trying to picture you as a scarlet harlot’ he said, his hand roaming.

‘You could use your imagination’ I suggested.

‘I am’ he replied. He moved forward to let me get a sense of it.

‘Whoa’ I said, feeling his bulge press into me. ‘That is definitely an over-active imagination’ I said, flustered. His hand was laid against the small of my back again, signalling his wishes, but not enough to stop me getting up if I wanted to. His hand moved down my thigh until he was able to move my hem up. I was in a hair salon, bent over a chair while some guy whose name I couldn’t even remember was hitching my skirt up. ‘That’s enough’ I said, doing my best to turn to look at him.

He took a slight shifting of my weight from one foot to the other as a signal. He used both hands to lift my skirt.

‘You came prepared’ he said when my knickers came into view. Ever since my divorce, I’d resolved to wear expensive underwear, for myself and maybe for some lucky guy. It had only been shared a couple of times, both occasions when I really wanted the guy to see what I’d got on. Now I wasn’t so sure. It didn’t really matter, because they were making their way down my thighs. I reached down to try to stop them, but they were beyond my reach.

‘Look, I’m sorry I can’t remember your name, but this isn’t right, it’s not what I want’ I protested. He’d crouched down to get my knickers to my ankles, but he stayed low. His face was pressed in to my backside. Oh, Jeez. His fingers were up and down my thighs, they brushed my pussy lips. They were in my pussy. He’d got a finger in my pussy! Two fingers in my pussy. I took in a deep breath.

‘This is so wrong’ I said, quite aware that my eyes had closed.

‘You’re right. My boyfriend would kill me if he knew what I was doing’ the stylist said. That was almost funny.

‘I don’t think it’s the first time you’ve done this’ I ventured as one of his fingertips found my secret place. What was I doing?

‘If you don’t like it, just pick a style and we’ll do that instead.’

‘I don’t like your suggestions’ I replied, finding myself going up on my toes, as the pleasure of his fingers fought with my embarrassment and awkwardness.

‘How about I pick then?’ he suggested.

‘Is there a bathroom in here?’ I asked, catching his wrist to stop him doing what he was doing. My sensible-self had re-asserted itself. What was I doing? I needed to put a stop to it before it went too far.

‘Through there’ he gestured, the disappointment evident in his voice. I stepped out of my knickers so that I didn’t trip, picked them up and headed away from him. Door closed, I looked to the Heavens and wondered how on Earth a simple hair appointment had turned into whatever it was. I did what I needed to do and braced myself to go back out.

‘Come and sit down, Alison’ he said, the model professional once again.

‘I don’t think that’s wise, do you?’

‘Fresh start?’ he suggested, holding his hands up. I stared at him the way that I’d stare at my son when I’m trying to work out if his promises to behave himself had an air of contrition. I sat down and let him cover me with a gown.

‘What now?’ I asked.

‘I thought we’d just keep it simple’ he replied.

‘Okay’ I said, starting the word off slowly and deliberately and then accelerating to the end as I felt him daub something on my scalp.

‘What the…’ I started. ‘What’s that?’

‘That, my dear is what you came for. Something different. A change. A kick-start’ he said, daubing enthusiastically.

‘But I don’t want whatever it is. I’ve never coloured my hair. It’s a pain.’

‘Don’t worry. Come back when you need to and I’ll do it for you for free.’

‘It still means I’m locked in to a schedule.’

‘All it means is that you came in here as a soccer mom and you can walk out as whatever you want to be.’

‘What colour is it anyway?’ I asked.

‘Don’t want to spoil the surprise now, do we?’

‘It’s not going to be a surprise really. It’s either red or black, that’s what you said.’

‘It’s either scarlet harlot or fuckable Goth mommy’ he said, leaning in to say the words provocatively close to my ear. Time to end the conversation. I closed my eyes and let the process take its course. Anyway, as soon as he’d ladled the first dollop on to my head, the die was cast, if you’ll excuse the pun. He continued in silence.

I sat there, trying to reconcile myself to what had happened, what was happening. Was I really so desperate as to let some kid, barely out of his teens, touch me up? Let him use me as his plaything? I’d had my moments, the odd New Year’s fumble, that sort of thing, but no one had ever done what he’d just done without shelling out for dinner first. As far as my hair goes, I’d always left it natural. I had a good stylist who knew my limits and who had the freedom to work within them. Now I was in outlaw territory, with no apparent boundaries. Could I walk out on to the street with whatever he was doing? Could I go to the butcher’s? Could I let my son see me?

A respectful hand on the shoulder brought me back from wherever it was in my mind that I’d just been. I followed him to the basin, anxious, curious. I lay back and let his gentle fingers work shampoo or conditioner or whatever through my hair. Could I go straight to somewhere else and get them to undo what he’d done? Did I need to go and buy a wig?

He eased me up and I followed him back to the styling station. A turbaned-towel covered whatever hideousness that he’d just done. I sat down, he put a hand on each shoulder.

‘Ready to come out of that shell of yours?’ he asked.

‘Just get it over with’ I said, resigned to whatever it was. It was black. Black as a starless night. Blue black. Not blonde. Not me.

‘What do you think?’

‘I hate it’ I replied.

‘Give it a chance.’

‘I hate it’ I repeated.

‘I’ll sharpen it up. You’ll love it. I promise’ he said, not appearing to understand that I hated it. I sat, he clicked away with some fancy scissor-work, which I begrudgingly had to complement him on. He certainly wasn’t a hack. The bob he was cutting was a little shorter than my usual stylist would go, but it was still jaw-length. And black.

When he’d finished, he stood back to let me pronounce my verdict.

‘I’d like it if it wasn’t black’ I told him.

‘It wouldn’t be half as sexy if it wasn’t black’ he told me. I wasn’t convinced.

We chatted for a couple of minutes, just like any normal client and stylist. Then the naughty stylist came back.

‘Go home, strip off and stand in front of the mirror. See what you think. Then take a razor and get rid of that jungle between your legs. Give yourself a chance, woman. Then go out and get yourself laid.’

‘That’s what you’d recommend, is it?’ I asked, aware that I was blushing. Who was he to tell me what to do with my personal grooming?

‘Most definitely’ he said.

‘I’ll bear that in mind. Now I really do need to go.’

He took the gown off
me, took me to reception to pay and walked away from me without another word. That was probably the strangest thing of the whole experience. I’d been fingered and had my hair coloured against my better judgement and he just waltzes off! I walked down the street wondering what to do. Then I heard rapid footsteps and an out-of-breath girl tugged at my sleeve.

‘Jamie said to give you this’ she said, handing me a business card. So that was his name. I thanked her and held the little card gingerly. It had a name and a phone number. A girl’s name. Must be his make-up artist. I put it in my bag and carried on walking.

An hour later I was home. In front of the bathroom mirror.

It was as if I was seeing the world through someone else’s eyes. This wasn’t what I saw when I looked in the mirror. I normally saw blonde, homely familiarity. This was anything but. I glanced down at my dark blonde patch and thought about what he’d said. No-one had ever asked me to shave down there. My ex certainly hadn’t and no-one since had lasted long enough to express a desire for change. I looked back up at my nakedness.

Not bad given the miles on the clock. Nature had been good to me. That and a decent diet and swimming. If I breathed in, I was within touching distance of a flat stomach. I attempted some poses, shiftng my weight from one foot to the other, cupping my boobs. Holding on for a bit too long, until my eyes closed, my fingers roamed and I felt myself back in the salon, bent over a chair. My own fingers had replaced Jamie’s. I teased myself, went deep, mimicked his movements. By the time I left the bathroom, I’d completed what he’d started and done what he’d suggested. My tangle of pubes had disappered. My ever-present bush was no more. Instead I was as bald as could be down there. Smooth, silky with body lotion. It was brazen, my lips eager to be seen.

I padded through to the bedroom and sat at my dresser. Where should I begin? The stylist had talked about using heavier make-up, but was that when he was talking about his Goth-mother fantasy? I couldn’t remember. I experimented, I added more. I ended up looking like Alice Cooper. I took it all off again and got dressed.

I hadn’t been changed long before Josh came home. Through all of this, I’d forgotten about the impact it would have on him. What would he think? He probably couldn’t remember me with hair much different from what it was when he went out this morning.

I was in the kitchen when he came home. He always headed for the fridge before he went upstairs. He needed fuel to get through an evening of video games that he claimed was working on his revision.

He came in. I heard the fridge open.

‘Hi, love, had a good day?’ I asked, trying to sound as normal as I could. I turned to see whether he’d noticed.

‘Fuuurk’ he uttered.

He’d noticed.

‘Josh!’ I chastised.

‘Sorry.’

‘That’s your pocket money for this week.’

‘But mum, fuuuurk’ he said.

‘Is it that bad?’ I asked, having complete sympathy with his reaction.

‘What did you do?’

‘Something different. You should try it sometime’ I replied.

‘Yeah, right.’

‘I mean it.
You can come with me next time. Give me a laugh, how about that?’ I teased.

‘In your dreams’ he said, ending the longest conversation we’d had in a while. I was all too aware that he missed a male presence. Talking to his old mum about haircuts probably wasn’t the same as your dad telling you that he’d got tickets for the big match on Saturday.

Both of us got a little more used to my hair over the next few days. I’d replayed the whole salon experience in my mind many times. Each time with the same result. Busy fingers. Josh had come home unexpectedly the previous afternoon and almost caught me, but I escaped by seconds. I was all too aware of the embarrassment when I’d caught him engrossed in some porn in his bedroom. That taught me to knock on his door before crashing in to round up laundry. It took ages to rid myself of the image of him with his thing in his hand, trying vainly to find an explanation. We had an unspoken agreement never to refer to the ‘incident’ again.

Although I was getting used to being dark, I couldn’t do my make-up any way that I liked. If I did what I used to do, it wasn’t right. If I tried to be more pronounced, it wasn’t right. I waited until Josh went to school to play my trump card.

I sat at the kitchen table with my phone in my hand. In front of me was the card that the stylist had given me. His hand-writing wasn’t great, but it was good enough. I looked at it and then dialled. It rang. I realised that couldn’t remember the guy’s name to tell her who’d referred me.

‘Hello, this is Kiera’ the voice said.

‘Oh hi, I got your number from the stylist who did my hair at ‘Studio One’ last week’ I said. ‘I didn’t get his name, I’m sorry.’

‘That would be Jamie or Janey depending on the day of the week’ she laughed.

‘Jamie, yes, that’s it. He said that you could help me with some make-up tips. I was blonde. Now I’m black. I can’t seem to do it right’ I babbled.

‘Ah! He told me you’d be calling’ she said. I wondered what else he’d said about me.

We chatted for a couple of minutes and by the time the conversation ended, I had an appointment with my very own make-up artist. In an hour.

I’d made myself as respectable as I could before I left, but took the opportunity to check myself in a shop window just before I went though her door.

I went up the stairs to the ‘Make-up Studio’ Simple, direct or a lack of imagination, I wondered.

I went in and walked straight in to what looked like someone’s lounge. I paused and could then hear someone approaching.

‘Alison? I’m Kiera’ the ‘someone’ said, holding out a hand. Wow! She was young and tall and slim, with long blonde hair that almost reached the hem of her rather short black tunic. She was stunning.

After the small talk, she led me through to another room that was more like I was expecting. This was a salon, with chairs and mirrors and everything you’d expect. She took my bag off me and had me just stand in the middle of the room while she walked around me, like I was a museum exhibit. When she was done, she offered me coffee and we sat down.

‘Jamie said you were lovely. He called you ‘the one that got away’ she laughed.

‘What does that mean?’

‘With Jamie, it usually means that he didn’t, you know’ she said.

‘He didn’t’ I confirmed swiftly.

‘Won’t stop him trying again when you go back’ she smiled.

‘I’m not sure that I’ll go back’ I said, before reminding myself that she was his friend and would probably tell him.

‘Oh, why’s that?’

‘I think I’m of an age where I’m too old for new things’ I replied.

‘Nonsense! You’re here aren’t you?’

‘Yes, but that’s different.

‘Who says’ she replied.

I looked at her.

‘You’re here because you’re curious. It’s a game. You rolled the dice when you walked into Jamie’s salon. Now you’ve rolled the dice again. You’ve made decisions, whether you know it or not, and I think that deep-down, you want some excitement. You tasted it once, now you’re trying something else. You might like it, you might not, but if you don’t, at least you can tell yourself that you tried. Anyway, let’s make a start, shall we?’ she said.

I tried to digest what she’d said. I told myself that it wasn’t true at first, but then realised that it made perfect sense.

‘Okay.’

‘We probably need to take a step back first. Do you like what he did?
‘ she asked.

‘I think so. It’s very different’ I said, running a hand through my hair. I was fascinated by her own light-blonde tresses.

‘So you’re not sure?’

‘I’m getting used to it’ I replied.

‘But you want to build your whole image around something you’re not sure about?’

‘Like I said, I’m getting used to it.’

‘You don’t have to, you could change it.’

‘I know, but I didn’t like what Jamie was suggesting’ I replied.

‘Which was?’

‘He wanted to cut it really short. And dye it red.’

‘So which don’t you fancy. Really short or red?’

‘I really couldn’t see myself with red hair’ I replied.

‘Could you see yourself with black hair?’

‘No’ I replied.

She looked at me in an exaggerated way, raising her eyebrows. I took her point.

‘Okay. So we don’t like red and we don’t much like black, but we don’t mind really short?’

‘That’s the funny thing. I don’t mind it this short. I thought I would, but in a way, I wish I’d done it a long time ago. Jamie only took a couple of inches off from where it was, but it looks more sophisticated now.’

‘But you said he wanted to cut it really short. That’s not really short’ she countered.

‘He wanted to do some sort of crop.’

‘But he didn’t. Did you tell him not to?’

I thought back. I couldn’t really tell her what went on. Me coming out of the bathroom, after, you know, and him just slapping the colour on.

‘Not really. He just did this.’

‘Would you have liked him to cut it off rather than colour it?’

‘I haven’t really thought about it. I’ve just been concentrating on trying to get used to this’ I replied. The conversation stalled. She was probably thinking about what I’d said. I was thinking how stunning she looked. She crossed her legs, revealing stocking tops. I should’ve known that tights wouldn’t be for her. She caught me looking, so I toyed with the handle of my cup in a bid to make it look like I was pre-occupied with that. She smiled enigmatically.

‘If you don’t want to go back to Jamie, I can cut it for you. I’ve got clippers’she said.

‘Clippers?’

‘Clippers’ she repeated.

‘Jamie talked about some sort of crop.’

She smiled. ‘That’s only a stop along the way for him, not the final destination’ she explained.

‘Just as well I got out when I did then’ I said with a chuckle.

‘He only suggests it when he thinks it’d really suit someone.’

I looked at her own immaculate tresses. My eye scanned from her crown to where the ends just peeked out from where they were trapped between her body and the chair. She shifted her position slightly. Uncrossed her legs. Parted her legs slightly. ‘Basic Instinct’ came to mind. I didn’t know where to look. She looked me in the eye.

‘I’m really excited about what we’re going to do. Aren’t you?’ she asked.

‘I’m not sure what we’re supposed to be doing.’

‘Making you feel comfortable as the ‘new you’. You know, get you to leave the old “you” behind. I’ll do your make-up so that you look fabulous.’

And that’s precisely what she did over the next half hour or so. I was amazed at her skill, at her choice of colours, her deft touch. There was no way that I’d ever be able to replicate what she had done for me. When she was happy with the result, she had me stand up. She moved in front of me again to inspect her work in a different light.

‘Look at you now. Sexy, confident.’ She reached up and held my face in her hands, holding me while she admired what she’d done. ‘All you need now is a cheeky little side-cut and you’ll be wowing them.’

‘I couldn’t.’

‘Who says. Just do what you want, things you’d never have dreamt of before, just do it. If I said right now, do something you’d never normally do, what would it be?’

‘I don’t know’ I replied.

‘Anything. Something that would normally shock you.’

I looked at her wondering quite what she was driving at.’I’m not sure what you’re thinking of’ I confessed eventually.

She moved a hand down to my neck, caressing my face as she went. Her hand continued lower, maintaining contact.

‘Getting the idea now?’ she asked. ‘Just do anything. I won’t be offended.’

‘I think I get the idea’ I replied, relieved that her hand had stopped moving downwards. It rested just above my boobs and she looked me in the eye.

‘Take a leaf out of Jamie’s book. You know what I mean. Just do it’ she said quietly.

Christ! He’d told her. All this time and she knew that I’d let him finger me.

‘I’ll bear it in mind. I’d better go though, things to do’ I lied.

She looked at me. I wasn’t a good liar and it didn’t look like I’d convinced her in the slightest. She took her hand away and nodded just the once.

‘Ok then. You know where I am now. And the clippers. Think about it’ she said and smiled.

I paid her and got back out to the street as fast as I could. I walked briskly, thinking that there were now two places in town that I couldn’t go back to.

Once more, I went home, unsure, standing in front of the mirror, just looking at myself. Every time I looked in the mirror I saw something that wasn’t me. I spent the next couple of days trying to recreate the make-up that Kiera had done, but with only limited success, just as I’d suspected.

Days passed and then a couple of weeks had gone by. Josh started to notice my roots coming through almost before I did. ‘Badger’ was the first name he came up with as he saw the blonde starting to re-appear. Then ‘skunk’, then he graduated to ‘Tone’, which he said was short for ‘Two Tone.’ What a charmer. Any thoughts that I’d had of entering the wide-world for a bit of fun receded as my roots grew. I’d gone from a reasonably happy, but frustrated soccer-mom, to a self-conscious, frustrated soccer-mom. The first couple of days I’d paid a bit more attention when I was in the supermarket, wondering if anyone was showing any interest, but apparently not. I was getting to the stage where I needed to do something about it, if only to regain some respect from my son.

I knew that I couldn’t go back to Jamie. I was reluctant to go to another new salon and have to put up with giggles from behind their hands. I wondered whether Kiera would be able to colour it for me, so at least I’d go back to a uniform colour, even if I still wasn’t sure about it. Could I face her again? What would happen?

It was while I was cooking Josh’s dinner that I had a brainwave. When he sat down at the table, I asked him whether he still wanted the football boots that he’d been raving about for weeks, but which I’d told him were too expensive.

‘You said I couldn’t have them’ he countered.

‘Maybe I’ve changed my mind’ I replied.

‘Well, yes then’ he said.

‘Yes what?’

‘Yes please’ he replied.

‘One condition…I come with you to buy them. I want to see what they’re like first’ I said.

I could see him weighing his options. ‘Ok’ he said after a pause.

‘I’ll need to pop in to town at some point. I’ll let you know. Unless I change my mind, or you don’t do the dishes.’

‘Mom!’ he said.

No more was said. Partly because I was pondering the wisdom of my plan. I was actually thinking about using him as a chaperone. Getting him to come in with me while Kiera sorted my hair out. Was that so bad?

The following day, I rang Kiera. I didn’t even know what her business hours were. I wasn’t even sure if she’d remember me, but then I told myself not to be so stupid.

I told her what my problem was. Even told her about Josh making fun of me, but she took it all in her stride. Just before I ended the call, I decided to play my trump card, put her on notice.

‘I’ll have my son with me. We’re going to buy him some football boots’ I said, thinking how foolish that sounded.

‘How old is he?’

‘Seventeen’ I replied.

‘How lovely that you still get to do things together’ she replied. ‘Maybe he’ll let me make some suggestions for him’ she ventured.

He’s seventeen, I thought. He won’t need you to make suggestions about what he’d like you to do. We ended the call. I felt rotten, but at least I’d got an appointment and wouldn’t have to walk around with two-tone hair for much longer. I texted Josh to tell him that I’d be going in to town in the afternoon. He was only upstairs in his room, but it was the best way to communicate with him. It didn’t give either of us much time to get ready.

It actually felt good walking down the street with a handsome young man on my arm rather than walking alone. It wasn’t just me against the world anymore. Josh turned his nose up slightly as I stopped outside Kiera’s shop. ‘I told you. First we do this, then we do what you want’ I said firmly, opening the door.

I could see Josh’s objections fall away as soon as we went through the main door. There was Kiera. Blonde, willowy Kiera. Wearing a white tee-shirt. A white-tee shirt that did nothing to conceal the obvious shape of generous boobs with pierced nipples. They were twin Sirens, luring a seventeen-year old to his doom. She noticed us both looking.

‘Sorry, I’m only in today to do some admin. It’s not really a work day.’ she explained. ‘So this handsome, young man must be Josh’ she continued, flashing him a smile. I could almost hear the material in the front of his jeans straining. What a thing to think about your son! I watched her look at him. ‘Not so handsome that we can’t improve you a little for all those young ladies you must have chasing after you, eh’ she said. She turned to me and smiled.

‘What do you say? Shall we spruce young Josh up and then send him out so that we can do the necessary?’

That nullified my whole chaperone idea.

‘He’s not here for a haircut, he’s only waiting for me so that I’ll buy him some hideously expensive football boots. Isn’t that right, Josh?’

Kiera interrupted before Josh could answer.

‘I’m sure you wouldn’t say no to a free haircut, would you Josh?’

I looked at him, willing him to object. He shrugged. ‘Okay’ he said quietly.

‘That’s the spirit’ she replied.

I caught him sneaking a peek at her chest. Then snuck a peek for myself. This wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought.

‘Hop in the chair there Josh while I get your mum a coffee.’

He looked at me as if asking permission, but got in the chair anyway. I watched him squirm, trying to get comfortable, which was no mean feat given what was probably happening in his trousers.

I looked at my baby boy who wasn’t such a baby anymore. He looked vulnerable. I looked at his floppy hair.

‘You know Josh, you don’t have to have it cut if you don’t want to’

‘She said it’s free.’

‘What are you going to do? The usual?’

‘I think we can do better than that, don’t you Josh?’ Kiera said, coming back in to the room. She handed me my coffee and then turned to Josh.

She grabbed a cape off the peg and wrapped it around Josh as if to signal her intent. She was going to cut his hair and that was that. I tried to think back to the last time that I’d been with him to get his hair cut, but it was a long time ago. She was running her hands through his hair now, trying to get the measure of it. It was lighter than mine had been before Jamie ruined it with the black dye. She paused and looked at me.

‘What do you think about doing something different Josh?’

‘Maybe’ he replied. I could only imagine the teenage struggle going on in his head. Sitting there with his mum, while a spectacular pair of pierced boobs tried to get him to focus on his hair.

‘What do you fancy doing?’ she asked.

‘Not sure’ he replied.

‘Well, we could ask you mum what she thinks or you could just let me decide for you. Something that’d suit you. What do you think?’

‘I’m not sure’ he said.

‘Not sure about what you want to do or not sure whether to let me decide?’

‘I’m not sure’ he replied.

‘Josh! That’s not very helpful’ I said, possibly feeling more exasperated than Kiera. She still had the innocent smile that hid all manner of dark thoughts, I suspected.

‘Ever had your hair cut with clippers?’ she asked briskly. I took a sharp intake of breath. I’d forgotten about those and how she’d suggested them for me on my first visit.

‘No he hasn’t’ I replied on his behalf.

‘Would you like to try? I’m sure lots of your friends have theirs cut with clippers.’

‘Some of them do’ he replied. I could see in the mirror how his eyes darted, grabbing a quick look here and a quick look there, storing away images of those real live boobs for later use. I wished that she’d cover up somehow. Surely she must have a sweatshirt or something that she could put on, so that they weren’t so in his face. I suspected that he was wondering just what he had to do to get his face between them. That’s teenage boys for you.

My eyes were drawn to her as she took the clippers out of the drawer and plugged them in. They looked so menacing, unforgiving.She flicked the switch to test them. They worked. She turned them off again and looked in the drawer.

‘Do you know what grade your friends have?’ she asked. All I could think of was that my son’s lovely hair was about to be cut off.

‘Dave Riggs has a number 1, I know that’ he replied.

‘Is that what you want too?’ Kiera asked.

‘It’s really short’ he replied. I could see him looking at his hair in the mirror, could see his doubt.

‘Josh, do what you want. Don’t do something just because someone else has done it’ I chipped in.

‘Maybe start with a number two then and see what you think?’ she suggested.

‘Is that much longer?’ I asked, all too aware that I was interfering.

‘Longer than a one, yeah’ she replied.

‘But still short?’

‘Still short’ she confirmed.

‘It’s up to you Josh’ I said. I was starting to regret involving him in this whole saga. Why couldn’t I just have gone to another salon to let them sort my hair out and just take the consequences?

Josh didn’t get the chance to contribute further before the clippers started their run up the back of his head. “My poor baby” was all I could think. He was probably anaesthetised somewhat by the proximity to the most spectacular pair of boobs that he’d ever seen (as far as I was aware), but still his hair was tumbling down his neck.

She ran them up the side of his head, in front of his ear and then paused, urging him to turn his head so that he could see what she’d done.

‘Short enough for you, or shall we take it down a bit more?’ she asked.

I could see his focus change from near-view “tit vision” to distance-view “mom vision”.

‘You’re the one who’s got to go to school’ I said.

‘It’s okay like this’ he said, realising that he was on his own.

I watched the change in his expression as she ran the clippers back from his forehead, right across the top of his head. I wasn’t sure if I gasped out loud or whether it was only in my head, but I felt a little tremor as I saw everything shift backwards and then tumble behind him. Kiera was quite ruthless as she swept his hair away with pass after pass of the clippers. In what seemed like moments, Josh’s hair lay on the floor and my poor boy only had stubble over his whole head. I felt sick deep down and was just waiting for his reaction. He stayed silent and motionless in the chair,just waiting. I watched Kiera fiddle with the clippers and move in again.

‘What’s that?’ I asked, becoming more and more protective of my son.

‘I just need to tidy up the side, give a bit of contrast’ she replied.

‘Don’t you need one of those guard thingies on?’

‘What do you think Josh? Do you want a guard or are we going whitewall?’ she asked pertinently.

‘A guard, I think’ he replied cautiously.

‘Sure?’ she asked, looking across at me. I could’ve sworn that she winked at me. ‘Ok, a guard it is’ she replied and rummaged in the drawer for another attachment.

The crisis passed, although what she was doing was still leaving him with next to nothing around his head. I never thought that I’d be grateful to see the slightest covering of hair like that.

Kiera finished with a series of well-practised moves, making sure that not a single hair was longer than the length she’d decreed. She told Josh that he was done and I watched him trying to take in what had just happened. I felt sorry for him and really, really guilty. Kiera chased any stray hairs off him with the dryer and swished the cape away.

‘Are you okay, love?’ I asked.

‘Yeah’ he replied, running a hand over his head.

The haircut had changed him, made him look older, but he was still my Josh. He appeared to be still trying to take it in and looked towards me.

‘I don’t suppose you’d let Josh go and get those boots himself, would you Alison? That’d give us chance to get you sorted out without this eager young man getting restless. Anyway, how could we keep him from the girls in town for any longer, now he’s such a stunner?’

I thought for a second and then reached for my bag. I handed him the cash. ‘Make sure they’re good ones. There’s a bit extra there for a burger. I’ll see you at home later on.’ I gave him a hug, which is something that he wouldn’t normally let me do.

He took one last look at Kiera’s chest and headed for the door. She followed him and as it closed I heard it lock, which I hadn’t before.

She came back into the main salon, if that’s what you could call it.

‘I hope you don’t mind, but I need to do something about this’ she said, tugging at the hem of her tee-shirt. I wasn’t intending to be cutting today, just some paperwork, hence this. Today’s wash day too, so all my tunics are in the laundry.’

I watched as she drew the tee-shirt up and over her head.

‘I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but needs must’ she said. There they were, those boobs. Big, but not too big, perfect. Dark nipples sporting metal bars with a little jewel at each end.

‘I so wanted to do that earlier, but thought it might be a bit much for Josh while his mum was in the room’ she chuckled.

‘You’re fine’ I replied, I could see her hesitate slightly and then she reached for the zip on her jeans. Their tightness had been obvious as she stretched, but hadn’t drawn Josh’s attention as much as her chest. My son was a boob man, how about that?

‘All girls together!’ she said as she slid them down.

She stood up and folded the garments. Standing there in just a pair of panties, with her unblemished trim body. She turned, showing me that she had no tattoos. That must be quite unusual for someone of her age.

‘Now, let’s get you washed and see what we’re going to do’ she said, as if it was perfectly natural for a stylist to be all but naked in front of her customer.

I stood up, trying to act normal. She held out the cape that had so recently covered Josh. I could still see a few severed hairs of his on it.

Her boobs did a little jiggle as she held the cape out for me. I put my arms through the holes and let her envelop me with the sleek fabric.

‘Make yourself comfy’ she said, eyes on the reclining chair at the basin. She cradled my head and eased me back into position. The water started to flow.

‘What do you think about Josh’s new look?’ she asked.

‘It’s a big change for him, but he seemed ok with it.’ I wasn’t sure whether to tell her just how much I hated myself for what had just happened.

‘He’s a handsome young man. The girls’ll adore him.’

‘As long as they don’t interfere with his exams.’

I’d had my eyes closed, but opened them to find much of my field of vision filled with her boobs as she leaned over me. I’d never been that up close and personal with another woman’s chest, so it was weird to be viewing the world from an almost male perspective. I closed my eyes again and let her carry on. Her touch was light, wonderful. I was disappointed when it came to an end. She helped me sit up and then stand up to return to the styling station. She towelled my hair dry and then used a hairdryer to return me to the state that I’d been in before she started. Unwanted black, with that invasive blonde strip at my scalp.

‘What were you thinking of doing?’ she asked, focussing on me now rather than what she’d done to Josh. She could’ve been any hairdresser in any salon, if it wasn’t for the fact that she was only wearing a small triangle of fabric while she worked. She appeared oblivious to her near-nudity, but I was still struggling to get my head round it.

‘I don’t know. I’ve thought so much about it, but I don’t really know what’s best. I don’t know if it can be lightened, done in one go, in a couple of steps. I don’t know’, I repeated, wondering whether I’d got the message across that I just didn’t know! ‘I told you Josh calls me ‘Badger’ now’ I chuckled. ‘If I were to be honest, I’m too busy thinking about what had just happened to Josh to think about myself that much.

She turned me towards her and looked at me. There were those irritatingly perfect tits taunting me. Mine aren’t bad, but they’re still boobs that have gone through motherhood unlike hers. I didn’t know what to say.

‘You feel a bit bad about me cutting his hair, don’t you?’ she asked.

‘Is it that obvious?’

‘I think he enjoyed it, don’t you?’

‘I hope so’ I replied, trying to find some comfort.’But every time I look at him now it’s going to remind me that I did it to him.’

‘So what’ll make you feel better about it?’

‘Nothing at the moment.’

‘Are you sure? she asked.

I looked at her.

‘You could make yourself feel better about Josh and solve the problem you came here with’ she said. I wasn’t sure what she was getting at and it must have showed.’You could go short yourself.’ She was helping me along.

‘Shorter than this?’ I asked. She shrugged. I looked at her.

‘You tell me’ she prompted. I thought about it.

‘You think I should go shorter to sort out the black? What about the rest? Will you be able to get it back to a lighter shade?’

‘You’re the boss. You tell me what you want me to do.’

‘I don’t know. That’s why I’m here. So that you can advise me.’

‘I think we’re past the “consultation with your hairdresser” stage, don’t you?’ she asked, pointedly looking down at her bare torso.

‘That’s not very helpful’ I replied, not meaning it to sound too rude.

‘How about you sit there and think what you want me to do and I’ll get on with what I came her to do in the first place?’

‘Sorry, Kiera, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s all a bit strange, you know. What with Josh and you with no clothes on and everything.’ She smiled.

‘Have a think. Tell me what you want and I’ll do it’ she repeated. I looked at her again. ‘Go on, go wild’ she added, licking her lips. I wasn’t sure if she was being serious or laughing at me. I pondered for a few minutes.

I was conscious of her in the room, but she stayed outside my field of vision, having returned to whatever she had intended to do before I called. I thought about Josh, tried to get inside the head of a teenage boy. He’d got up close to a pair of great boobs, been the centre of attention for a time, while the most attractive woman he’d ever been close to cut his hair. Was that so bad for him? Probably, I thought, once his friends saw him.

I stared a my reflection, vainly hoping that it would tell me what to do. I had to do what he did. It was the only way that I could appreciate what the change meant to him. It’s different for women though, I thought. Hair that short on a man isn’t so radical. How many women do you see with next to no hair? I wanted to do it, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.

‘It’s not right for me to have this much hair after what I made Josh do, is it?’ I ventured out loud, one hand running through the blackness.

‘I thought we’d agreed that you didn’t make Josh do anything. He did what he wanted to, with a little help, of course’ she smiled.

‘You know what I mean. He came in with me and if he hadn’t, he’d still have all his hair.’ I turned toward where she was sitting. She shrugged, making those boobs of hers dance again.

‘So where does that leave you?’

‘I want you to cut it for me.’

‘There you go. That wasn’t so hard was it? Now tell me how short.’

‘What do you think?’ I asked, chickening out. Her raised eyebrows reprimanded me. ‘I don’t know what it’s called. Jamie talked about a crop, but I don’t really know what he had in mind. He didn’t show me any pictures.’

‘That’s a start, but is that enough to get you over your “Josh guilt”?’ She knew what I’d been wrestling with.

‘Shorter?’ I ventured. The eyebrows spoke again. They were displeased.’It would need to be shorter’ I said, sick and excited in equal parts now that I’d said the words out loud. She nodded, the circular motion of her hand urging me on. I want a short crop, if there is such a thing.’ I still struggled to say the words.

‘I could take the sides close, take the top right down, is that what you mean?’ she asked. She moved in to show me, scraping my hair back, holding it there out of the way. That was exactly what I’d been thinking.

‘Whatever you do, it’s got to be an improvement, I suppose’ I replied.

‘I’m glad we agree’ she said, turning me back to the mirror. Somehow she’d got the clippers in her hand without me realising.

‘Head down for me’ she said, her hand on the top of my head. I was looking in to my lap. I heard the sound from a few minutes before, felt what Josh felt. A caress up the back of my head.

‘How short?’ I asked as sound and movement continued.

‘What you asked for’ she replied. My head was still down. I could see bare legs and knicker material in my peripheral vision. She urged me to straighten my head. I looked in the mirror. No obvious change from the front. I wondered what the back looked like. I watched the reflection of the clippers. They touched my head behind my ear and were guided upwards over my crown. My stomach leapt. They progressed and I was torn. I was delighted to see the blackness fall away, but mortified at how little hair I had left. Was it longer than Josh’s? Whatever, it was too late. There was something exciting about it, as long as it was just watching a reflection in a mirror, but I was going to have to face the fact that I was becoming a skinhead like Jamie had threatened. He’d suggested three things for me and now I’d had two. Would I do the third and dye what’s left red like he suggested. Would I become the ‘Scarlet harlot’?

It wasn’t as bad as I thought, although my opinion was clearly tempered by the relief at not having to look at myself with black hair anymore. I was blonde again. I reached up to touch it. Alien, strange, very different.

‘Head down again’ she said. My head went down, the clippers went on and back up my neck.

‘Are you going shorter?’ I asked, suddenly panicking. What it had been moments ago would take some getting used to without me having to get used to even less.

‘Just finishing off’ she said.

‘But shorter?’ I asked again.

‘Beautiful’ she replied, running the clippers right up the back of my head. They ran across the top again and again.

‘Holy shit!’ I said as the clippers emerged at my hairline. Or at least what had been my hairline. ‘You’ve shaved it?’

‘It’s what you needed’ she said, placing a supposedly comforting hand on my shoulder.

‘Oh God, what am I going to tell people? Tell Josh?’

‘That it’s your new start, which it is.’

‘Oh God’ I uttered again, which wasn’t bad for someone who hadn’t been to church for years. A big patch of my hair was gone and all I could do was watch this near-naked woman remove what was left.

The clippers made light work of the last of my blondeness. In no time at all I’d gone from black to blonde to skin. Relief to curiosity to wtf! Kiera turned the clippers off and cupped my head in both hands.

‘You’ll love it, honest.’ she said.

‘How long will that take? I’m just shell-shocked right now’ I replied.

I stared at myself in the mirror, oblivious to what Kiera was doing. My trance was only interrupted when it registered that she’d just squirted something into her hand and that hand was now stroking my scalp, each stroke leaving a white smear behind.

‘No, please, that’s enough’ I said.

‘If something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well, that’s what my granny always told me’ Kiera said.

‘So you think this is worth doing?’

‘Absolutely. Think of it as you being shaken into life, an awakening, whatever those new-age people would call it.
You won’t be the person in the crowd anymore, you’ll stand out as someone who does what she wants, takes what she wants, when she wants it’ Kiera said.

‘Is that right? That’s me you’re talking about, me who can’t get a man to look at me. What chance have I got now?’

‘You’d be surprised. You’re going to turn heads when you go out. You’re different, bold, bald, beautiful.’

‘You’d almost got me until you used the “bald” word. My grandad was bald. Not a lot of men go for that sort of thing in a woman.’

‘I think you’d be surprised. The end of that particular drought might arrive sooner than you think.’

‘Ha!’ I said, watching her scrape away at the whiteness on my scalp with a safety razor. A thought struck me.

‘Do you always have shaving stuff on hand?’ I asked.

‘Got me! I popped out and bought it when you rang’ she replied unabashed.

‘So you knew you were going to do this to me?’

‘I wanted to be prepared’ she replied. I didn’t know what to say. I should’ve expected something like this, knowing that Jamie had spoken to her, knowing that she was his friend. The pair of them probably schemed together.

I watched her finish, still wondering what I was going to tell people. I was also still trying to work out why I found it more than a little bit exciting.

‘That’s you done’ she said.

‘You really think any man will find me attractive now, with no hair?’

‘Absolutely. Some men would happily die and go to heaven if they had the chance to be with you now. Well, it’d fulfil a fantasy for some, at least.’

‘You’re just saying that to make me feel better.’

‘Not at all. Just looking at you will make some men hard. Even with you fully dressed.’

‘Kiera!’ I said, feigning shock.

‘I could prove it if you want’ she said.

‘How?’ I asked. She looked at me intently.

‘Ben, dearest, would you come in here for a moment?’ she said, turning towards the door on the side wall. I hadn’t really taken any notice of it before, but I did now. Now that a naked man was coming out from it. A naked man with a rather impressive erection.

‘Alison, this is Ben, my boyfriend. You’ve just made his dream come true.’

‘I don’t understand’ I said, looking at her, almost naked in front of me, her long blonde hair trailing.

‘He likes me. I like him. But he likes short hair and I like long hair. We don’t want to split up over something like that, so we decided that we’d let each other off the leash every now and again’ she explained. I looked at each of them in turn, willing myself not to look down when my gaze turned to him. I couldn’t help myself.

She moved closer to him and put a hand round his cock.

‘Look what you’ve done to my man’ she said with a smile.

‘Here’s you with next to nothing on and you say that I’ve done that? I don’t think so. Anyway, forgive me for being a bit perplexed. I’ve never been in this sort of situation before. I don’t know what to do.’

‘Well, you can leave with our best wishes.’

‘Or?’

‘Or, Ben here will show you just how sexy he finds you.’

I didn’t know what to do. It had been close to a year since I’d been with someone and now here was an offer of instant gratification. With another woman’s boyfriend. I looked at each of them in turn as if that would provide the guidance that the same action hadn’t just a moment ago. I was like a terrified schoolgirl, rather than a middle-aged, previously married woman.

Kiera reached out a hand to me. ‘Don’t be shy’ she said, giving my hand a squeeze. ‘Here’ help me off with these’ she said, guiding my hand to her waistband. I hesitated.

‘It’s a shame to waste that. If you don’t want it, I’ll have it’ she said, glancing towards her boyfriend’s rather impressive erection. She moved my hand across the front of her panties and down slowly. ‘You did that too’ she said. The material was damp. I couldn’t believe that I was feeling another woman’s arousal like that and certainly couldn’t believe that I was responsible for it.

She pressed my fingers against her. I felt her softness through the material. I felt her wetness.

‘Take them off’ she said quietly. I looked at her and then drew them down her legs, captivated by my proximity to another woman’s privates. Perfectly hairless privates at that.

She looked at me.

‘Now you’ she said in the most alluring voice I’ve heard outside of a movie. I didn’t protest as I felt her hands slide up my thighs. She looked at me as she drew my own knickers down. She let my dress fall back into place and sat down on the end of the basin chair. She sat back, spreading her legs, touching herself as she moved backwards. What had I got myself in to?

She patted the seat. ‘Hands here’ she said.

I leant forward and placed my hands where she’d indicated. That was Ben’s cue to move. He was behind me. I felt his hands on my backside, felt him tug the hem of my dress upwards. I felt his fingers explore. I felt him. Inside me. What was I doing? What if Josh came back for some reason? The door was locked I remembered. I was in a hair salon, being screwed from behind by someone else’s boyfriend, who I’d barely said hello to. His girlfriend was sitting in front of me diddling herself. I felt a hand on my scalp, exploring my hairlessness. It was surreal.

Kiera broke off from what she was doing to free me from my dress. I really didn’t want to be naked in her company, but had no choice. I was just grateful that I’d taken Jamie’s advice and shaved myself. I don’t think that I could’ve stood the comparison with her professionally sleek pussy if I hadn’t at least rid myself of my own pubes. Ben was pumping into me slowly, my arms were supporting me, so there was nothing to stop her easing my dress over my head and then supporting me as she extricated my hands from it. My bra went the same way and there she was caressing my boobs, contorting to suck my nipples. Her hand was between my legs, feeling her boyfriend move, feeling me.

She sat back, legs apart in invitation. I thought about eternal damnation, all manner of things until I could resist her will no more. Ben paused to allow me to change position slightly and then I felt both her hands on my hairless scalp, pulling me in to her. I tasted her excitement at shaving my head. It was sweet.

I’m not sure if Ben was being considerate to an old lady or whether it was to allow his girlfriend to enjoy a novice licking her pussy, but he was certainly patient. His thrusts were long and slow and wonderful. From my position, I could understand why they didn’t want to give each other up, but wondered how they fell for each other in the first place. Why would he make a move on a girl with such wonderful hair when he liked the opposite. Had he hoped to persuade her to cut it off? Maybe it was just the perfect body that he couldn’t resist. I paused from my licking to look along her trunk in search of approval. My eyes danced over the metal bars in her nipples and received the seal of approval that I wanted in the form of a hand on the back of my head drawing me in to her again. Never in a million years had I ever thought I’d lick another woman down there or be screwed by a man so much younger than me again. It was almost worth losing my hair for. Kiera interrupted my thoughts.

‘Do you like her bald head, Benny babe?’ she asked, touching my scalp. ‘Do you want me to be bald? Do you want me to cut my hair off for you?’

Her taunts were having benefits for me. His thrusts were getting stronger.

‘Do you want me to get the scissors so you can cut my hair?’ Shall I get the clippers for you?’ she taunted. She edged forward, swishing her hair against my bald scalp.

‘I’ll cut it for you if you want’ she said. I could tell that he was getting very interested indeed.

‘You’re just saying that’ he said breathlessly.

‘Maybe, maybe not’ she teased.

She was standing now. Touching his cock as it slid out of me. Then she stopped him going back in. It was her turn. I stood aside and watched as she assumed the same position that I had been in only moments before. I watched his cock disappear inside her, sad that I wouldn’t feel the build up that I’d anticipated. I watched the first few strokes and then my attention wandered. When I turned to them again, they’d changed positions. He was lying back on the hair-washing chair and she was astride him. I stood behind her and stroked her hair. I saw Ben’s attention move to me.

‘What do you think Ben? Shall I use these?’ I asked, holding up the scissors that I’d picked up from the styling station moments before. ‘You’d like me to cut her hair, wouldn’t you? I asked, following Kiera’s example. At the mention of this, Kiera paused her pelvic gyrations and looked round to see whether it was an empty threat or there was some thing to back it up. She saw the scissors.

‘You wouldn’t’ she challenged.

‘You want to make Ben happy though?’ I asked, casually lifting one of her tresses. It was long!

‘That’s what you were for’ she said.

‘Think how much it would mean to him if you did it though.’

‘He knows I don’t want to’ she protested. I saw her shudder as he thrust up in to her.

I grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged her head back. ‘Say you want me to cut it off’ I said, leaning in close. Ben thrust, I tugged, Kiera was caught somewhere in between. ‘Or shall we go straight to the clippers and just make you bald? Shave all this pretty hair off. Make you bald like me. Shaving my head made you wet, think what the feel of the clippers will do to you.’ I was quite the actress. In my very own porn film!

Ben grunted, Kiera lifted up with the forceful thrust and then settled back down on her spent boyfriend. I surprised myself by pulling her head back and kissing her full on the lips.

‘Thank you’ I said, ‘for what you did, for lending me Ben. Think about it. For him’ I added, handing her the scissors. She clambered off him and hugged me.

‘One day, maybe’ she replied, casting a glance Ben’s way.

She put the scissors down and turned to me again. Her finger traced down from my bare scalp and rested at my nipple. It went further down. I didn’t object, I wanted it to continue. She trailed a finger between my legs, opening me. She slid a finger inside. I leaned in to kiss her and before I knew it, we were entangled again. I’d seen porn films with women together, but never actually thought that I’d be doing it, not once but twice. This provided the interlude that Ben needed and before long, I found myself standing up, pushed against the wall, with Ben buried to the hilt inside me. Kiera held me steady, smiling encouragement as her boyfriend fucked me enthusiastically. There was no attempt to get some for herself this time, he was all mine.

In a way it was fitting that I’d been had from behind while standing up and was now being banged against a wall. The situation was so outrageous as far as I was concerned, that lying on my back just wouldn’t do. I had one foot off the floor, trying to wrap a leg around Ben, not wanting him to ever let me go. I knew how ridiculous that was with Kiera right there, but I wished that he was mine.

Then my phone rang.

‘Leave it’ Kiera urged.

‘What if it’s Ben? What if I didn’t give him enough money and he’s coming back?’

Kiera reached in to my bag while Ben paused.

‘Ben’ she mouthed, looking at the screen. She passed it across to me.

‘Hello love’ I said, trying to sound normal.

He just wanted to tell me that he’d got his boots. ‘Where are you?’ he asked, just when I thought that the conversation had ended.

‘I’m still at the salon, just finishing off’ I replied, before realising just how close to the truth my remark was. I panicked when he said that he would come and meet me so that we could go home together.

I was managing to dissuade him when Kiera piped up. ‘Ask him if his hair’s short enough. I can go over it again if he wants. Won’t take a minute.’

I frowned at her, but repeated what she’d said. I couldn’t have been more relieved when he said that it was fine as it was. I ended the call and let her take the phone from me.

‘You’re very bad, do you know that?’ I said to her as Ben started up again.

‘This party needs another cock. don’t you think?’

‘Kiera!’ I exclaimed. She laughed. ‘Says you, who’s monopolising the only cock in the room’ she chuckled.

‘You can have it back. I couldn’t let Josh in here. You’d ruin him for life’ I said.

‘You’re probably right’ she agreed, circling one of my nipples with her index finger. She trailed her tongue over my scalp which acted as a signal to Ben to pick up the pace. He became more and more urgent with his strokes, pinning me to the wall. Not exactly comfortable, but extremely erotic. It was just carefree, abandoned lust from someone that I’d probably never see again. I closed my eyes and went with it all the way to the end.

I opened my eyes and saw Kiera with the widest smile on her face.

‘Bet you didn’t think you’d be doing that when you left home today!’ she said. She was right.

Despite what I’d just done, I was suddenly self-conscious and eager to untangle myself from Ben. Kiera stroked my back as I bent to pick up my dress, making me realise that I was being a bit silly. I turned and smiled at Ben, who was apparently in no hurry at all.

‘I need to go’ I said.

‘Can’t wait to show the world the new you?’

‘Something like that’ I replied, pleased for the shield of my dress once again.

‘It’s probably a bit full-on at the moment, but give it a few days and give me a ring. I think we can have some fun together and at the very least you’ll get free haircuts for a while. That goes for Josh too. Even if you don’t come back, just remember that now you’ve unleashed your inner slut, make the most of it. Have some fun!’

With that thought in mind, I stuffed my underwear in my bag and reached for my purse. Kiera held her hand up in polite refusal.

‘It was a pleasure – for all of us, I hope’ she said, still standing there completely naked. Despite my best efforts, I snuck a final look at her magnificent boobs. she saw.

‘A friend did them for me. And yes, you should. Couple of nice tattoos too and you’ll be totally hot.’

‘But you haven’t got tattoos?’ I said.

‘Not yet’ Tell you what, we’ll talk about it next time.’

‘So you think there’s going to be a next time?’

She nodded. I repeated my thanks and left.

All the way home, I was replaying the events in that salon. Is that why I’d gone there, to get my hair cut off? Was that what I’d wanted. I wasn’t sure. Was I glad that she’d done it? I really wasn’t sure. Short hair was one thing, but completely bald? What was I going to say to Josh? And then there was the sex. A quickie in the back of a car with a guy from a dating site was the most adventurous that I’d got. Now I’d been with another woman, been screwed while being watched and I’d loved every minute of it.

Before I knew it, I was home. I was nervous. What would Josh say? What would I tell him?

I went in. I wondered whether I should just avoid him for as long as I could, but then decided to grasp the nettle. I went upstairs, butterflies in my stomach. I knocked on his door.

He gave me permission to enter.

‘Do you want a cup of tea, love?’ I asked.

He looked up from his game thing. I saw his expression change.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Mum! What have you done?’

‘Thought I’d go a bit shorter’ I said ‘Just like you.’

‘At least I’ve got hair’ he replied.

‘It’s something different’ I said, running my head over my scalp.

‘It’s fucking bald’ he exclaimed before he could stop himself. I let the comment slide. After all, it’s only what I was thinking myself.

‘You could’ve done yours.’

‘You’d have freaked.’

‘Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think. You want to do it, you do it’ I said.

‘It’s a bit extreme though.’

‘Do it if you want to’ I said. ‘Do you want that tea?’

I went downstairs to put the kettle on and sat at the table while it boiled. I closed my eyes, trying to picture what I’d done in that salon. I still couldn’t believe it, but found confirmation when I opened my handbag and saw my scrunched up underwear. I saw the business card that Kiera had given me. I wondered about making an appointment for Josh. What would happen if I did?

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