To an outsider the cacophony of horns layered over the noise of a bustling crowd may be over bearing.
For twelve year old Grace, her mother, and her brother – who were all born and raised in the heart of the
city – it was the background music of their lives. Music that salon augmented with it’s dozen stations,
all occupied with children in for their back to school cuts.
Golden brown hair slid in a braid through Grace’s mother hands. “Six inches,” holding firm on her side
of the negotiation she playfully pulled on Grace’s head with the braid.
“But mom! Marcy is getting a bob…” A whine that would have melted Grace’s father hung in the air.
Stone faced Marcy’s mother was unfazed, ending the discussion with a word. “No.”
An entire summer vacation of begging only to be held to a boring mid-back compromise. Better than nothing,
or so her mother would tell her every time she brought it up. “Might as well be nothing,” Marcy stewed
while her mother played with her braid.
“We have two stations ready for you,” A sharply bobbed receptionist pointed to either side of a wall running
down the center of the salon. “Lisa, and Jenna will be with you in a moment.”
The brown braid unwound from Grace’s mother’s hands. “I need to stay with your brother. Are you good on your
own?” She lifted five year old Patrick to her hip.
“Like I’m getting lost in here,” eyes rolled Grace held out her hand to an approaching stylist with a high
black ponytail that touched her shoulder blades. “Hi, I’m Grace. My mom thinks you’re going to abduct me. Would
you tell her you’re not a pedophile?”
“Just a bundle of joy, isn’t she?” Shaking her head Grace’s mom joined the other stylist on her side of the
“I’m Jenna,” the stylist guided Grace to a chair near the back wall. “What are we doing today?”
The idea of boring hair attacked Grace’s sensibilities. Settling for her normal trim would at least leave her
hair at length she could call sort of special. “Long hair beats boring hair,” she bit her bottom lip eyeing
the receptionist. “A bob,” holding her fingers at a random spot between her chin and shoulders she waited to
be called on her lie.
“One sec,” the stylist patted her on the shoulders then walked around to the other side of the wall.
“And now my mom grounds me,” Grace tapped her heal against the chair’s foot rest. “Just get back here and give
me a trim,” a minute took forever to pass.
Coming around the corner Jenna shrugged. Smiling she searched her station. “Your mom was busy with your brother.
But, she told you two had discussed this for a while. I don’t think she was happy with you getting any hair cut,
to be honest.”
“Damn it,” defeated Grace just wanted to go home to her bedroom where he mother was sure to send her for the
rest of the summer.
“Told me to not cut off more than she had agreed too,” Jenna tapped the side of her smock. “Ah, there they are,”
Brandishing her shears she stopped in place. “Cape!” Laughing at herself she took the cape of the arm of the chair.
“So, a Bob. What could you have wanted that she was OK with a bob?”
Bowled over by Jenna’s aloofness Grace’s mind raced. “A bu- a boys cut, more a pixie really” dialing in her
response to something reasonable she shook her mother’s inevitable meltdown out of her head.
“I take it your mom will want to keep the braid?” Jenna snapped the cape around Grace’s neck.
“Yep,” keeping the hair for her mother was really the least Grace could do.
Jenna held Graces braid just above her shoulders. “You’re a brave girl,” with tiny snips she parted it from Grace,
leaving her with a proto-bob. Mussing Grace’s hair she laughed. “How does it feel?”
“Great!” Golden brown hair flew out from Graces head as she gleefully shook her head. “You can give that to my mom
to hold on to,” Shortened strands slipped through her fingers.
“One sec,” Wrapping the braid around her hand Jenna went to find Grace’s mother.
“Losing her shit in 3…2…1,” another few seconds passed before Grace knew her mother had received her gift.
Seven years later:
By the end of high school the tale of Graces bob had become legend among the female students. Many girls would talk about
cutting their hair, many did, and a few came near the magnitude of her makeover. However, none dared to cross their mother in the
way Grace had. By 9th grade, growing bored with the trend she had birthed, she let her hair grow back to its old length. That
was until, bored again, she was about to move into an apartment with her longtime boyfriend.
In her childhood room the now nineteen year old Grace – a few months past needing a good trim – sat on her knees, gasping for a breath
in the split moment her boyfriend Alex took to thrust his cock back down her throat. A sharp gasp filled her lungs before Alex, gripping
her braid, grunted in anticipation of filling her throat. Pushing her self away from her boyfriend, Grace smirked at his unsatisfied
erection. “Almost time for my hair cut.” Grace loved to fuck with Alex, and his obsession with about her needing a shorter style.
“You’re going to leave me like this?!,” Alex stood in disbelief. “Am I supposed to finish myself?”
Across the apartment, in her parents closet, Grace called back. “Don’t you dare touch it. My haircut comes first.” Above her head she felt
a Ziplock bag.
“What the fuck, Grace?”
Manicured nails tapped against the wall. “Close your eyes.”
Pinching his nose in frustration Alex humored Grace. “This better be good.”
“Since you’re always so interested in my hair, I did some research,” The Ziplock bag unzipped, allowing fresh air in for the first time
in seven years. “You have naughty stuff in your search history. Really should learn how to delete that,” from the bag Grace held up a
golden brown braid. “All those girls losing their hair,” dangling the braid’s tassel across his twitching cock she snipped a pair of craft
scissors across the top of the braid. “Do you want mine?”
Alex’s eyes shot open. Grace’s old braid swayed in front of him. “You cut it?”
“When I was twelve. Much to my mother’s disappointment,” The old braid fell in a coil on Grace’s bed. “But, you knew all about that when
you asked me out. Didn’t you?”
Denying nothing Alex hopped onto Grace’s bed. “Do it while I’m inside you,” he laid down, dick at full mast. He held the scissors out for Grace.
“Please, I’ve waited SOO long.”
“Like this?” Grace crawled over his legs positioning her eager cunt over his dick, letting him guide himself into her. Sitting across him she
made the first snip, covering Alex in strands of her silky brown hair. Teasingly she built up sliding up and down on his cock, taking tiny snips
at her hair. Building with each severed strand on her Alex’s chest she assaulted her locks as they bounced with softly against the whole of her back.
Alex only grunted. His chest thick with Grace’s hair he held himself from exploding.
By the fist full Grace forced the dull scissors through her thick locks. “There’s still so much to cut!” Alex’s hands dug into her ass.
Lavender scented locks slid from Alex’s face. “I-I can’t,” spitting out caramel strands Alex adored the crazed woman above him slicing through her
amazing hair. With a strained grunt he filled her.
Giggling at the feeling of Alex finishing inside her, Grace dropped the scissors. “But, I’m not done yet,” Grace threw the a hand full of her length
at Alex’s face. “Leave it there,” pussy dripping she sandwiched the hair between her pussy and her boyfriends face. “Yes, just like that.” Smothering
Alex in her wet locks Grace’s toes curled at his tongue exploring her slit. Leaning forward onto her hands she clenched at the pile of golden brown. Alex’s tongue focusing on her clit she dropped to her forearms. The smell of lavender filled her nose. Through her breasts she saw her boyfriend enjoying every
moment of being one with her shorn hair. Grinding into his face, she came.
Alex panted into a pile of brown. “That was so much better than a salon.”