This is a story that happened to me many years ago in 1989, when I was a much younger man.
My girlfriend and I had been living together for nearly a year, contentedly so. I knew it was only a matter of time before I popped the question to her, but in the mean time, it made a lot of sense to share living expenses, as a sort of “test drive of the relationship. We’d been sharing an apartment, a bed, and living expenses long enough to feel like we were already married.
I was 28 years old, working full-time while I attended graduate school. My hair at that time was naturally curly and touched my shoulders. It was the kind of hair that women had told me they would kill for. I also had a mustache and beard that I’d worn since I’d graduated high school, just because I couldn’t grow it in school and shaving was a pain in the ass. Frankly, I liked how I looked with it, sort of like Grizzly Adams, but trimmed more. I didn’t think I was any great shakes in terms of looks, but what did I know? Everyone has their type, and I thought I’d found my type.
The love of my life was Julie. She was a couple of years younger than me. She was quite fetching, and kind of reminded me of my dear, departed mother. She was attractive, although, to be honest, she had the body of an adolescent boy, thin with very small breasts. That was fine with me, I didn’t fall in love with her body, I loved her for her personality and her mind. I was lucky to have her. Her hair was on the short side, golden blonde in color. She wore it parted on the side and combed it back so that it partially covered her ears. It was cut to the nape of the neck in back.
That’s right, I had longer hair than my girlfriend.
She’d worn it short for as long as I had known her, although I’d seen photos of her with hair touching her shoulders while she was still an undergraduate in college. She’d told me she cut it to its present length about a year before I’d met her.
I had never told Julie that I preferred women with short hair. Frankly, her short hair was what had initially attracted me to her. When she’d tell me she was going to go get a haircut, I’d suggest she’d look smashing with it cut shorter, but, she seemed to prefer it the length she kept it at. C’est la vie. I was fine with that.
It was in May, just after the temperatures started warming and summer was coming. We were in the car, going somewhere after dinner, and out of the blue, she informed me, “You know, I think you’d look good with a flattop.
My initial reaction was to laugh at the notion. “Oh, I don’t think so. I had no interest in cutting my hair.
A couple of years before I met Julie, I actually wore a flattop for about a year. I’d grown out my hair to its present length from that flattop. I wasn’t particularly interested in going back to it. Maybe three years before, I’d had hair down to my shoulders and one day just up and had it shaved into a very short flattop, and kept it that way for about a year. I really didn’t want to have another one.
As we drove, I thought about what she’s suggested, and gave it some more thought. She wouldn’t have suggested it if she didn’t think it was true, and she wouldn’t have suggested it if she didn’t want to see me with really short hair.
That night, I showered and as I washed my hair, I wondered if I should just go and get it cut short again. I had worn it long and curly for more than a year or so, and it was a lot of upkeep, washing, brushing, drying, moussing and styling. These were the days when everyone, man and woman alike, had “big hair. And frankly, whenever I got my haircut, I always fought the urge to tell the stylist to cut it short.
The next day, Friday, I came home from work and told her that if she wanted me to get a flattop, I would be willing to do that, if she was sure she’d still love me shorn like a sheep.
“Oh, I think you’ll look awesome! she purred as she nibbled on my earlobe, which always set my right leg to twitching.
“How short do you want the flattop to be? I inquired.
She smiled as she kissed my cheek. “Oh, I think it needs to be as short as it can be.
I glanced over at her curiously. “Really? You are that eager to see me nearly bald?
“I never said I wanted to see you bald, handsome. I just want to see you with a really short flattop.
The next morning, we both arose, and I dampened my hair to brush it into place and try to hide the “bed head a man with long curly hair usually had first thing in the morning. There was no point wetting it completely and putting product in it, as it was going to be cut.
Julie wanted to accompany me. I asked her if she had ever been in a barber shop before.
She laughed and replied, “No, never.
“Are you sure you want to go in one today? They aren’t exactly bastions of femininity. There’s lots of guy talk and you know, rearranging the furniture and ball scratching.
Julie laughed. “You get your haircut in a salon, just like me. Do you find lots of estrogen in there?
“Oh yeah. The salon smells girly. The barbershop smells manly.
Truth be told, I hadn’t been in an actual barber shop since the last time I’d worn a flattop, which was maybe two years ago. I’d had flattops in salons before, but they were never all that good. My impression of salon flattops were that they were afraid to really shear me, and while I left with what could charitably be called a flattop, it was longer and quicker to become shaggy and have no shape. So, I went to a barber for the standard flattop – stubble on the sides, shaved at the nape, standing upright on top, maybe a half inch or so, butch wax. About once a month I went back for another, until I decided to not.
We drove to the barber shop on the other side of town, and walked in, hand in hand, like a couple of high school lovebirds.
We had to wait for about a half hour as the lone barber had a couple of haircuts ahead of me. None of the men we saw before me got their haircut particularly short. When it was my turn, the barber brushed off the big barber chair and invited me to sit.
Back when I was a child, I don’t remember getting haircuts before I was about 6-7 years old. In the late 60s, early 70s, my father, like other fathers, had my hair cut short, clippers around the ears, long enough to comb over on top. I always remember that big, giant barbers chair when I was a kid, sitting on a board across the arms until I was big enough to actually sit in the chair. Monthly haircuts until 5th grade, when my father consented to let me grow my hair longer, as was the style in those days.
Of course, my hair was never as long then as it was now, touching my shoulders, long and wavy. As I sat in the chair, I remembered that feeling from my childhood. The barber chair might be the most comfortable chair I’d ever sat in.
He tossed a cape over me and wrapped a tissue around my neck, and kind of started brushing my hair with a hairbrush.
“What are we doing here? he asked finally.
I looked back at him and nodded to Julie, who was sitting on the edge of her seat, watching me like a mother. She’d get pissed if I told her that, so I kept it to myself.
“She wanted me to get my haircut. She can tell you what I want.
The barber glanced at Julie and she blushed momentarily. It was clear she hadn’t anticipated being a participant in that particular conversation.
She rose from her seat and approached me. She ran her hand through the curly hair over my right ear and to the back of my neck as if saying goodbye to it one last time.
“He needs a flattop, short as you can make it.
When she said it, I could feel my cock start to stiffen. We were actually going to do this.
The barber looked at her one more time. “High and tight, then?
I’m sure Julie had no idea what that meant, so I wasn’t surprised to see her nod simply.
“Horseshoe on top, or do you want me to just make it flat in front and shave it off in back?
“Flat in front, shaved off in back sounds great. She smiled as she made eye contact with me.
I looked at her with a wry smile on my face. I’m not sure she has any idea how short my hair will be. Frankly, I’m not sure I do either.
I could feel my heart start pumping in my chest as, from the corner of my eye, I saw him pick up the largest pair of clippers he had hanging on the counter, and he swapped out the clipper blades and oiled them quickly. When I heard the whine of the clippers, I felt my cock become rock hard and the front of my jeans tighten. This was the part that usually gave me an erection, no matter how I was having my haircut.
He used a comb to lift up the hair over my right ear close to my skin and with a swift swipe of the clippers, I saw my long curly hair tumble to my lap. I felt him lift the long hair at my neck up, felt the clippers close to the skin, and then felt the gentle breeze as the clipper motor air brushed my neck.
I glanced over at Julie, who was sitting on the edge of the chair, smiling broadly.
“I hope you’re happy, I mouthed to her.
She giggled and gave me the thumbs up sign.
The barber continued around my head, lifting my long hair and zipping it off with the clippers. He lifted the hair up over my left ear with the comb and clipped it off. I glanced in the mirrors before me, behind where Julie sat and watched. I could see my ears. I hadn’t seen my ears in quite awhile. Of course, with my long hair on top of my head, I looked like I was wearing a very wooly cap.
The barber swung the chair around and started with my right sideburn. Starting at the middle of my ear, he brought the clippers up into my hair, and what was left behind really could best be described as five o’clock shadow. It was mostly scalp with a bit of stubble. He took off the hair above my ear, and I could see he was shaving it close. Then again, Julie had asked for a high and tight.
I glanced over at her, and her mouth was agape and she had a slight curl on her lips. It was clear that she was enjoying this. I could feel my cock throbbing against my jeans, and it was clear that I was enjoying this too. I just hoped that I wouldn’t come in my pants.
The barber worked his way around the side and back of my head, removing my hair up to the crown.
I could see a sizable pile of my brown hair in my lap, and I reached out from the cape to take a clump of it in my hands.
Hair today, gone tomorrow. Or, in this case, gone for quite awhile.
When he finished shaving the sides and back, he came back with the clippers and ran them over the same area a second and third time, making sure it was shaved as close at it could be.
I looked in the mirror and could hardly recognize myself. Even when I’d worn a flattop years ago, it was never shaved to the skin, I could usually always see some hair there.
When the barber switched off the clipper, I reached up and felt the sides of my head and my eyes went wide. Julie saw it. It was basically sandpaper. My flowing curly locks were no more.
Julie rose from her seat and approached me at that point and when the barber turned around, he had a smaller clipper in his hand.
He looked at Julie.
I looked at Julie.
“I think we need to shave off the beard. It looks weird.
The barber glanced at me, and I nodded, telling him “Alright, but leave the mustache. I was still quite attached to my mustache. I hadn’t seen myself without it in ten years, even when it grew in really thin and patchy after high school, I never cut it off. I wasn’t particularly vain about much, but my mustache? I loved my mustache.
Using the smaller clippers, he proceeded to run them up my cheek and shave off my beard. He moved to the other side and shaved it off, leaving me with a goatee on my chin. Then, he shaved off the goatee, leaving my face exposed for the world to see.
I don’t think Julie had ever seen me without a beard, certainly not in the year we’d been together, and I’m not sure she ever had a chance to see photos of me without it. I’d always kind of had a beard, even during my earlier flattop phase.
When Julie saw me without the beard, she rose once more and approached me in the barbers chair, my lap and shoulders covered with most of my hair and beard.
Her brow furrowed and her nose crinkled.
I looked at her and asked her what was the matter? Was there something wrong?
“You look like a porn star with that mustache. I think it needs to go too.
I looked over at her, wounded to my core. Now, the porn star reference was a bit of an inside joke between us. During sex, one of our games was me as a porn star, having my way with her. And here she was telling me that it looked cheesy.
I didn’t see a point in arguing, and nodded at the barber. “Okay, shave my mustache, too.
“But if I look stupid without it, you can’t whine about it.
Julie watched him bring the clippers to my upper lip and brought them down art several times, until my mustache was no more. Then, he switched to these very tiny clippers that made a very high pitched whine and used the up and down and sideways on my upper lip, making sure that there was no hair there.
I stuck my upper lip up and out, so I could see it. It looked very weird to see my upper lip naked, to see this bare hint of stubble remaining. The mustache was no more. I looked back at Julie once more, who had returned to her seat to watch.
“I hope you’re happy.
“You look amazing without it, babe. You should have shaved it years ago.
I shrugged. She was entitled to her opinion. I wasn’t quite sure I agreed, but then again, it had only happened a moment ago. I suppose it might grow on me, pardon the pun.
At that point, I still had a cap of long hair on my head, while the sides and back were shaved to the skin. I was curious to see what he end going to do next. My previous flattop experienced had taught me that he was going to grab the heavy clipper and with the comb, start shaping the top into flatness.
I was somewhat surprised when he took the heavy clippers, still with the same blade on them that he had used to shave the sides of my head. He brought them up to the top of my head and sat it down just behind my forehead hairline. I could hear the hair being shaved, and he brought them straight back over the top of my head. Even more memorable, I could feel the blades sitting flush on my scalp as he did so.
I glanced in the mirror as he worked. The first pass backward started about an inch into my hair, and left a stripe of pale shaved skin in its wake.
Okay, that’s one way to make a flattop.
Of course, at that moment, I could feel my cock throbbing and seeing the stripe saved on the top of my head, I felt myself come in my pants. I looked at Julie, and smiled. She would have no idea how much fun I was having at that moment. The only way I’d be having more fun was if Julie was lying naked underneath me when I came.
The barber brought the clippers up near where he’d started on top and made another swipe backward, once again, shaving the top of my head. After the third swipe, I could see the middle of my head was as naked as the sides. There was still hair on the sides, barely, but that wouldn’t last for long.
He used the clipper to shave the back half of my head, leaving me with just a slight C shaped line of hair on the front half of the top of my head.
I turned my head from side to side and saw that the entire back two-thirds of my head was shaved, like the sides.
Oh my god! He’s shaving my head!
I looked at Julie and smiled. She nodded at me. It was clear that she was as turned on as I was. She crossed her legs to hide the wet spot between her legs.
Once he’d shaved the top of my head, the barber set aside the urge clippers and picked up the smaller clippers and flicked them on. With the comb, he began the process of shaping the remains of my hair into a short flattop. This might possibly be the shortest flattop in the history of haircutting. My head was almost completely shaved, and what little hair was left would have to form the merest flattop that could be formed.
He worked over the hair on the top of my head, clipping and combing, until it was far less long than it had been. He set the clippers down and picked up a little Crew Comb and combed it into what remained of my hair. He dried it into a standing position with a hair dryer and then returned to the clippers and comb, and slowly, carefully, took what hair remained and shaved it even closer, to within a quarter inch of my scalp, and into a perfectly standing micro flattop.
By the time he finished, my hair was definitely a flattop, what there was of it remaining.
I reached up and ran my hand over it, as well as the rest of my head and smiled. The back half of my head felt like it was covered with sandpaper, and it was pale as hell. Not surprising, considering that it hadn’t seen the light of day in years, and really, in ever. My head was nearly shaved for the first time.
The barber looked at me and smiled. “Do you want me to finish it up, or are you okay with it as is?
I looked at him curiously. “Finish it up?
“Shave it with a razor.
I looked at Julie. “What do you think?
“I want to see you shaved smooth, baby. Make him shiny.
The barber filled his palm with shaving foam and proceeded to spread it over the top of my head and around the sides and back. He picked up a straight razor and sharpened it several times on the leather strop handing beside the chair, and tightening the skin with his free hand, he slowly started to shave the top of my head, shaving around the flattop.
As he worked, I could see a difference between what I’d started with and what remained. My scalp was smooth, shiny. He moved to the back and I lowered my chin to help him reach down.
After about thirty minutes, he was though, and he used a towel to wipe off the remaining shaving foam. He ran his hand over my scalp, as if checking for places he missed. Finding some, he picked up a small electric razor and used it to smooth off the places he’d missed.
When he was finished, I brought my hand up and ran it over the top of my head, and it felt so strange. It was smooth, there was nothing to impede the movement of my fingers. It also felt so sensitive to the touch. I was feeling a million different sensations up there that I had never felt before. I touched the flattop hair, and that felt somewhat normal, but there wasn’t much of it. Mostly what I felt was shaved head. It felt so strange because an hour earlier, I’d had hair down to my shoulders. Now, here I was with my head almost completely shaved.
Julie got up and approached me. She reached out and ran her hand over my head, over the top. She paused to hold her hand over the top and back go my head where it was shaved, and I could feel her rubbing it back and forth. Then she felt my cheek. It still had stubble on it.
“We need to shave his face.
The barber grabbed more shaving foam and covered my face. Sharpening the razor one more time, he used it to give me quite possibly, the closest shave I’d ever experienced. Even when I was in school and shaving, I’d never shaved this close When he was finished, I ran my fingers across my cheeks and chin and across my now naked upper lip, and it felt so strange to not feel anything there.
The barber looked at Julie and asked “So, does that pass inspection?
Julie looked at me and smiled wryly. “Hmm, you know, I don’t think I care for that flattop, now that I’ve seen it. Let’s just shave that off too.
“Shave it all?
I felt my cock start to harden once more.
I’m going to have my head completely shaved.
The barber grabbed the small, tiny clippers he’d used on my upper lip and edged the flattop off, leaving me completely bald. He picked up the electric razor and used it to take the stubble down to the skin. He used s few drops of oil and spread it over the top of my head, leaving me with a very shiny scalp.
Finally, he looked over at her.
She was smiling and nodding approvingly. “That is perfect. He looks awesome.
The barber removed the cape from around my neck and I rose from the chair, and followed him over to pay him for his work. I rubbed the back of my head as I walked, still not quite believing I had shaved my head and mustache.
After I paid him, I turned around to look for Julie, only to see her now sitting in the barber chair I had just vacated.
“What, do you want a haircut now? I smirked.
She looked at me and nodded.
I came back into the shop and sat down in the chair she’d just been sitting in. I continued to rub my shaven head, still basking on the strange sensations.
The barber looked at Julie and asked her if she was sure she wanted a haircut.
She nodded. “You do cut women’s hair, right?
The barber kind of fidgeted, clearly not comfortable with the suggestion. “How do you want it cut?
Julie made eye contact with me at that moment, her smile was bright. “I think I’d like a head shave too, just like his.
When I heard her say it, I about had a heart attack. This was 1989, and women simply didn’t shave their heads. This was the era of big hair. My guess was that watching me have my head shaved made her so horny that she wanted to shave hers too. Of course, since her hair was already shorter than many women wore their hair, maybe she just wanted it as short as it could be?
The barber looked over at me, as if I was the one in control of the situation.
I could only smile and say “Give the lady what she wants, and be quick about it.
He shrugged and draped the cape around her shoulders and wrapped her neck with the tissue.
He picked up the large clippers and brought them to her forehead and flicked them on. Slowly he brought them into her golden blonde hair.
As I watched her short blonde hair tumble to her lap, it was the most sexy, erotic thing I had ever witnessed. I thought having my hair cut short and then shaved was stimulating. I’d never gotten into pornography, that is, watching movies of people having sex. I’d always kind of fantasized about having my own hair cut quite short, and had indulged that several times in my life. My ultimate was having a girlfriend with very short hair, or even a shaved head. I never imagined that I would ever see it in person, much less that any woman I loved would actually shave her head and let me watch. Yet, here we were. I was mesmerized. I couldn’t believe I was watching my girlfriend have her head shaved!
As the clippers peeled the hair from her head, she looked at me with the most sexy smile on her lips. I could tell that she was enjoying this immensely. And I suspected the sex we were about to enjoy would be earth-shattering. I only wondered if we were going to do it in the back seat of my car or wait until we got home.
After about ten minutes, the barber had completed the shaving of her head. When he turned his back on her, I saw Julie reach out and run her hand over her head and we eyes grew wide and she mouthed the word “Wow!
I gave her the thumbs up side, still not quite sure I could believe this either.
He spread shaving foam over her head and used the straight razor to slowly, carefully, shave the stubble from her head.
I could tell Julie was in a magical place when her head was being shaved, and I knew that she had orgasmed at least twice, silently. I could see her wincing with her eyes closed, and I suspected she was rubbing her clit beneath the cape, where no one could see.
After about thirty minutes, the barber wiped the foam from her head and I could see my beautiful girlfriend smiling at me contentedly with a head which was shiny and smooth. She looked so beautiful, so happy. It was clear to me she had wanted to do this for a long time, perhaps even before I’d met her. Whether seeing me having my long hair shaved was what motivated her to follow suit, I might never know. All I knew was that Julie looked more beautiful without hair than with it.
I was there to meet her when she stepped from the chair. Her arms wrapped around me, I could feel her rubbing the back of my head. We kissed passionately, swapping all kinds of spit as we felt each others shaven heads.
It was after we paid, and we were walking to the car, hand in hand like a couple of kids, when I looked over at her wryly.
“So, how long have you wanted to shave your head?
She smiled at me knowingly. “You could tell, could you?
“Was shaving my head just a ploy to entice you to have your own head shaved?
“No, she shook her head. “I did seriously think you’d look a hell of a lot better with a flattop. My only devious plotting was to figure out how to get you to shave off that damn beard and mustache.
“Yup. She nodded. “I hate kissing you with that thing. It makes me itch and when it gets long I swear it smells like whatever you happened to eat last.
I stopped in my tracks as she continued to walk, until being tugged to an unexpected stop. She wandered back to me.
“Is everything alright?
I nodded. “My beard smelled?
“Little bit. She smiled. “Don’t take it the wrong way, I love you no matter how much you smell. I just wanted to see you clean shaven for once.
“And? I inquired.
Julie leaned into me and kissed me long and hard on the lips. When it was over, she purred at me. “Shaved is the best for you. You look much better without it.
I rubbed my upper lip, still missing it. “Seriously?
“You need to keep it shaved, babe. Trust me.
I shook my head as we continued our stroll to the car.
“Does this mean you think I need to keep my head shaved too?
She nodded. “You can do whatever you want, but if you ask me what I think, I’m going to answer true. That shaved head looks absolutely fantastic on you.
“What about you, love? I asked, as we came to the car and I unlocked the passenger door for her. “Are you going to keep your head shaved?
As she climbed into the front seat and closed the door, I walked around to the driver’s side and sat down beside her.
She looked at me with this little coquettish grin on her lips. “What do you think?
“I think you look better without hair than you did with it.
“Seriously? she blushed, looking away slightly as she ran her hand over the top of her head.
I nodded. “Didn’t you ever wonder why, when you’d tell me you were going to get a haircut, I’d suggest you cut it shorter?
Julie shrugged. “I guess I didn’t think much about it.
“Remember last March when you came back from getting a trim, you showed me the back and said the stylist had used the clippers on you? I got all excited and reached back to see how long it was and told you it was about a half inch long back there and that I thought it would look good at a quarter inch length next time?
Julie was silent a moment and nodded. “Yeah, I remember. I guess I didn’t make the connection. So, I suppose now that my head is shaved, you think I’m even more beautiful because you like women with short hair?
“Not at all. I replied, running my hand along the side of her shaved head. “I think you look amazing because you do. Seriously. Much better without that hair.
Julie blushed and kissed me on the cheek. “So, I guess that means I’m going to keep it shaved?
“You can do whatever you want, babe, but if you ask me what I think I will always answer true. The shaved head looks absolutely amazing on you.
“I think so, too. You don’t think we look weird, a couple of baldies walking down the street together?
I shrugged. “Who gives a shit what people think? As long as you like it, as long as I like it, that’s all that matters.
“Do you think I should get a wig to wear to work?
“Why hide it if you like it?
“What am I going to tell my mother?
I laughed. “Tell her you shaved your head because you wanted to and you are keeping it shaved because you like the way you look. Honesty is the best policy, right?
She laughed. “You know my mother, though.
“I can’t wait to see her face at Christmas, when we walk into the house bald as babies.
“My mother is going to freak out.
“Your mother is going to shit.
We laughed most of the way home.
When we arrived home, the minute we closed the door, she was on me, ripping my clothes off. We fell into bed, naked. It was just noon. The day was still young. I was rock hard and she took me into her and we fucked like there was no tomorrow, leaving each of us lying beside one another, utterly spent.
I reached down and tickled her sex, feeling the short and curly hairs between her legs. I could feel her moan slightly. It wouldn’t take much for her to orgasm again. Me, on the other hand, it was going to take me at least an hour, if even then, considering I’d shot my wad in the barbershop before we even got home. Julie, on the other hand, was capable of several orgasms an hour.
“You know what’s funny? I asked as I twirled her pubic hair around in my fingers. Remember, this was 1989, before the whole body shaving, Brazilian waxing business started.
She rolled onto her side and purred in my ear.
“The only hair you have on your entire body at this moment is right here. I said as I ran my finger over her pubic hair and fingered her spot. “Don’t you wonder what sex would be like if you were shaved down there?
Julie was silent for a moment and I saw her smile.
“Interesting idea, she replied as she reached over and fondled my penis in her palm and twirled my own long pubic hair around in her fingers.
“If you shave down there, I’ll shave. I don’t care for picking your hair out of my teeth when I’m down there.
I chuckled. “Deal.
We jumped into the shower, thinking that shaving would be easier in there, as opposed to contorting around on the floor of the bathroom. Next thing I knew, Julie was on her hands and knees in the shower, using a safety razor to shave the hair from my testicles. There was soap and a lot of trust on my part. Frankly, I’d never shaved my own pubic hair, much less trusted anyone else to do it. Eventually, she moved on to the hair above my penis, and soon that, too was shaved smooth. I reached down to feel it, it felt so strange, so soft, so sensitive to the touch.
Next thing I knew, Julie had my balls in her mouth and she was stroking my penis with her finger, trying to get me hard. Unfortunately, it didn’t work, it was still too soon. I pulled her up beside me and we kissed one again, and I pressed my cock against her sex to tease her.
Then, it was my turn to shave her down there. I will admit that I had no idea what I was doing down there. I’d had sex enough times to know, I’d licked down there enough to know what was hidden in the hair. I found myself with a safety razor and a bar of soap and no idea what I was going to come across as I removed her pubic hair. Frankly, I was terrified I was going to nick her down there. The last thing I wanted when she was shaving me was a bleeder. Julie hadn’t nicked me, now I had to find a way to do the same.
I soaped up her hair and set about shaving her in that most sensitive of places. I could feel her hips sway back and forth as I worked. It was clear that this was getting her excited. As more and more of her flesh down there was exposed, I got more and more confident that I could do this without causing her to bleed to death. Finally, I got to her slit, and I saw her move her legs apart to allow me better access to more of her hair. Eventually, she lifted a leg and braced herself and I could shave all down the sides. My, there was a lot of hair. Then again, I’m sure Julie had thought the same about me.
After about fifteen minutes more, I felt like I’d shaved her about as well as I could hope to. She pulled me up to her and we kissed once more and I pressed my cock against her sex, in the hope of stiffening up. Alas.
Julie grabbed the soap and soaped her pubic region up and worked the soap into her undercarriage, and I could see her smile at the job I’d done.
“Well done, lover boy. Shaved and I’m not nicked.
I sighed wearily.
Finally, we rinsed off and dried off and left the layer of pubic hair in the shower for later. We launched ourselves into bed once more and began to explore our newly revealed genitals.
I have to admit, having no pubic hair felt strange, but pleasurable. Looking down at Julie’s barren forrest, I realized this was the way to go, and I think she felt the same. She was very sensitive down there to the touch, as was I. And no longer would she find my hair stuck in her teeth.
Postscript: That was more than twenty years ago. We’ve been together ever since. We married a year later. Her mother was so pissed that the bride was bald. I, on the other hand, loved it. I don’t think Julie cared. She was beautiful.
Julie works in a corporate office, and her concerns with working with a shaved head were completely unfounded. No one seemed to care that she shaved her head. I’ll be honest with you, when she gets dressed to go to work, in that business suit, with those pumps, and that closely shaved head? It’s all I can do to not want to take her right then and there.
Julie and I have shaved our heads ever since and neither of us has had the slightest desire to grow hair. In fact, her hair is still shorter than mine, even though we both shave. Julie shaves more frequently than I do. I’ll shave about once or twice a week. She’ll generally run the rechargeable razor over her head in the evening before bedtime, and in the morning, in the shower, she will shave her head with a safety razor. On the weekend, she generally doesn’t shave, unless we are visiting her mother, in which case, she does it just wants to watch the vein on the side of her mother’s neck pulse when she sees it.