Just a Trim

Maybe her hair was getting a little out of control, Jane thought as she slammed her long locks in the car door as if her chestnut mane were the tails of a long coat. Her boyfriend Max saw the whole ordeal from his vantage point in his kitchen window as he waved goodbye to her. She liked to wear her hair loose as much as possible, flowing around her. It had always been long, but lately her generous waves had grown past her waist to just past her hips, thick and lush.

She knew Max didn’t like it so long, but she’d grown attached to her Rapunzel lengths. She liked brushing it and the feel of it against her naked back. She liked how it covered her body like a curtain. She liked braiding it. She liked all the compliments she’d receive about it. People would reach out and touch it without asking, and she knew that should offend her, but their touch would send a pleasant shiver down her spine as they caressed it. A lot of people didn’t like hair that long, but the people who did REALLY did. She had a lot of male social media followers whose numbers only increased the longer she’d grow her hair.

They clogged her comments.

Some nice: “Wow! So long! Don’t ever cut it!” Heart eyes emoji. “Lovely hair!”

Others were rarer, but more intense:  “Let me chop off that ponytail. I’ll give you $500.” “That mop needs seen to (scissors emoji).” “That hair would look great on my floor.” “You should go bald.”

The attention felt good, like her hair was this special feature that helped her stand out. Her long hair made her feel hyper feminine and somehow eternal, like she embodied a medieval princess and a Greek goddess at once. Even the comments about how she should cut it made her feel paid attention to, even if the idea of actually cutting her hair was out of the question. The longer it grew, the more sacrosanct each inch felt to her. Although particularly long hair had its many challenges—the time it took to wash and dry, the amount of product she used to keep it healthy all the way to the ends, the way it felt like she was constantly brushing through it—it felt worth it. It was a part of her identity.

Max would make little comments about her hair—it didn’t help that he was a barber by trade himself. He ran a little shop across town with a friend of his. If she ever looked annoyed while brushing it out, he might say, “You know, you could always have me cut it off for you.” Or he’d run his hand along her back while they lay next to each other in bed, running his fingers over her lengths, and say something like “Sure you don’t want a trim? I could take you in the bathroom right now, get rid of some of this bulk.”

“You’d miss my hair if it was gone,” she’d say. “It’s too pretty to cut.”

What she didn’t know was that there was no such thing for him. She didn’t know that the longer and prettier it became, the more Max itched to see her shorn. Changed, for him. By him. He’d been daydreaming about it since he first met her the year before and they began dating. He wanted her to cede full control of her hair over to him and had been slowly planting seeds, gearing up the courage to tell her about his real desires.

The day of her hair getting caught in the car door, she had a marathon of shopping and running errands around town. As she got back into the car, more carefully this time, she fingered the ends of her treasured locks and wondered if maybe it was time for a trim, after all. While her ends were healthy, they no longer had the crisp bluntness that she preferred. As she liked to live spontaneously, she wondered which places nearby took walk-ins. She looked it up on her phone, and laughed when she saw Max’s barber shop show up as the nearest spot on her map. However, the absurdity of the idea faded when she thought, that might actually be perfect. She was used to fancy salons, but since she just wanted a dusting of her ends, she bet he’d be up for the task. Plus, he’d probably love the surprise of her showing up. And he had said he’d be willing to trim her hair for her.

She pulled up Instagram and made a story for all her followers. “Come with me to surprise my boyfriend at his work!” She said into the camera, raising her hand high so her followers could see how all of her shiny dark hair pooled in her lap. “I realized that I need to trim this hair of mine and he is a barber, so I’m sure he’ll be up to the task. I just need him to cut a straight line. What can go wrong, right?” She made a comically nervous face.

Jane put her phone away and drove the few blocks up the road to the little neighborhood where her boyfriend’s barbershop resided. The shop itself was nestled into other brick storefronts on a street usually lined with pedestrians, but seemed uncharacteristically barren today. Maybe it was the fact that it was getting dark so early, and the rains had begun kicking in, that had most people tucked in at home. The spinning barber’s pole gave her a surprising shiver that settled as warmth low in her belly. She just was going to get a trim, why was she so nervous? A thunderclap sounded in the distance which did nothing to dampen her growing sense of foreboding.

She pushed open the front door, triggering a pleasant jingle from the bell meant to alert the barbers to a new customer’s arrival just as a man with a freshly faded cut was leaving. The man looked at her with a bit of a quizzical expression as he held the door open for her to walk in, as if wondering what a woman was doing entering this supremely masculine space. The man’s eyes lingered on her extremely long mane as she walked by before he headed off into the street.

The shop itself appeared empty. It was small, with only two stations. Very clean and orderly, a perfect mix between a traditional barbershop her dad and brothers went to and a modern and sleek aesthetic. She’d seen pictures of her boyfriend’s shop, but she’d never actually been in yet as their relationship was still fairly new. It was one thing to see photos of the place and another thing entirely to be there and actually smell it. It smelled like a blend of nostalgia and crisp cleanliness, with the sharp, invigorating bite of aftershave mingling with the faint sweetness of pomades and shaving cream, the earthy whiff of leather from the brown well-worn chairs, and the metallic tang of scissors freshly sanitized.

“Max?” she called, stepping further into the shop.

Right then, a man emerged from the backroom holding a cup of coffee. It was not Max. “You must be Jane,” the man said, taking a sip from his dark ceramic mug. He was tall and sinewy with thick, dark blonde hair and a neatly groomed beard. He was wearing vintage Levis and a white t-shirt with brown leather work boots.  “Max has told me all about you.”

“Oh, hi,” Jane said shyly, tucking a strand of her thick hair behind her ear. “Good things I hope? You must be Gavin.” Max’s old friend and business partner. She’d always thought it was odd that she hadn’t met him yet, since he and Max were supposed to be such good friends.

“Very good things, though I have to say your hair is even longer than I imagined from his descriptions. Wow.” His eyes raked her mane from roots all the way to the tips, which were hugging her thickly curved hips.

“Is Max around? That’s actually why I’m here. I wanted to see if he could squeeze me in for a quick trim.”

“He actually stepped out a little bit ago to grab some food. We’ve been slower than usual today.”

“Oh, I suppose I could come back later. Or maybe just wait for him?” There were two chairs for waiting customers and she sank into one.

Gavin began to clean and sanitize his station from his last appointment. She could see the muscles in his back engage as he swept the floor of clippings. “Feel free to wait for him,” he said, turning to her. “Or…no, nevermind.” He looked genuinely conflicted before he turned back around, like he shouldn’t say what he was about to say, but really wanted to.

“Or what?” she asked.

“Well, I was just going to say if you are just looking for a trim. I could do that for you. I don’t have any other appointments for the rest of the day.”

She hummed, considering. “Do you cut women’s hair?”

“Hair is hair,” is all he answered.

“I really just need the ends nice and cleaned up,” she said. “Nothing complicated. You sure you don’t mind?”

He patted his hand on the freshly cleaned brown leather seat to beckon her over, and without further consideration, she took the few steps and sat down. “Is it OK with you if I take some pictures and videos for my Instagram?”

He nodded and she imagined his cheeks looked a little pink as she brought out her phone. She faced the camera toward the large, floor-length mirror. She was wearing a short plaid skirt and a black sweater and she looked so out of place in this men’s space, so small in the big and masculine chair. Her hair fell around her impossibly and she arranged it so that it looked its best. “Alright everyone, update! I made it to my boyfriend’s barber shop, but he’s not here. Luckily Gavin here graciously agreed to trim my hair, which was so nice of him.” She turned the camera his way and he gave a short wave as he shook out a large black cape with a sound not unlike the increasingly thunderous storm brewing outside. “I will keep you all updated on how it goes.”

She put her phone back in her lap as Gavin fastened the cape tightly around her neck, lifting her thick mass of hair to tuck paper into the collar in a way she’d never had done before. It surprised her how his hands in her hair gave her a jolt of arousal, and she heard a low voice deep inside her subconscious that wondered if this was a good idea. Did she even need a trim? And couldn’t she have just have waited for Max to get back? Her impatience historically had gotten her into a lot of jams. As if on cue, her phone started to buzz with a phone call.  It was Max.

“I should answer this,” she said.

“I have a strict no calls or texts policy in my chair,” Gavin explained as her grabbed it from her and said, “Let me get that out of your way.” He tucked it facedown on his station.

She knew she should have protested, but something about his energy felt impossible to disregard. She could hear her phone buzz with incoming text notifications that she was sure would be from Max. It was just a trim, right? If that was the case, why did it feel like she was doing something wrong? Naughty, even. Why didn’t she want him to stop?

Gavin was pumping her chair up higher with his foot, the metal squeaking slightly under his pressure. He brought out a wide tooth comb and took his time combing out every strand, starting from her ends and working his way up the length of her hair. “Can I tell you a secret?” he said as he tenderly detangled a section of her thick mane.

“Yes?” Jane said, her eyes beginning to grow hazy from the gentle tugs of her hair being played with. It was one of her favorite sensory pleasures.

“I’ve seen your Instagram account.”

She shot her eyes toward him. “Really?”

“Yes. Max showed it to me. You really are showing off your hair on there, aren’t you? Lots of men in your comments.”

“I guess so,” she said.

“I get why they love your hair so much. It’s striking. But I wondered, what is it that you get from the interaction? Is it just the attention?”

She considered. “Yes, I think that’s part of it. I like the admiration. Which is funny because I don’t think Max likes my hair much at all.”

“Oh, you’re wrong, there,” he moved his hands up to her scalp, and began giving her a scalp massage. “He’s obsessed with your hair. It’s all he talks about.”

Relaxing into his touch, she did her best to hold back a moan. “He’s always throwing out little suggestions about how I need to cut it. How it’s too long.”

“It is too long. That’s why you are here, right?” He moved now to a brush and he continued to lovingly smooth out each section of her hair until it lay flat and shiny, splayed out against the long black cape that enveloped her whole body except her feet. He had to squat to reach the lowest lengths of her hair when it was all brushed out. “It’s a nuisance. It’s all in your way.”

“I wouldn’t call it a nuisance. I just want the ends trimmed,” she insisted, extending her fingers to mime less than an inch off.

He nodded. “Just the ends,” he said, rising to grab his shears from his station. Her heart was racing just at the sight of those sharp metal scissors. She was thinking of just how easily they could ruin her entire mane, and how much trust you had to have in the person wielding the scissors. Had she been wrong to trust Gavin with such a precious task?

She didn’t have much more time to think when he walked back and squatted behind her. “Stay very still, Jane,” he said, lifting one long arm to press the back of her head forward. “And put your head into your chest. Yes, that’s a good girl.”

Against her judgement, her body responded to his firm handling. His “good girl” made her open her legs slightly so she could dip her fingers into her panties to see just how wet she’d gotten. She was slick with arousal. The first slice of scissors through hair, the firm tug and release on her scalp, sent a jolt through her. She realized that she was hidden by the cape, so she didn’t resist her growing desire to slowly circle her clit her two favorite fingers. She couldn’t see what was happening, but she could feel and hear his slicing, and then the gentle thud of hair hitting the tile floor. It seemed unusual that she could hear the hair falling on the ground when it was only supposed to be a small trim, but she was cloudy with desire and losing any connection to logic by the second.

“Alright, and this is my last cut,” he said and the final slice hung through the air. “Such a good, brave girl you are being. I’ll set this lock aside for you to give Max since he missed the actual cutting.”

That seemed like an odd statement until she raised her head back up to see him place a 8-inch, thick tendril of her hair on his station. “I said a trim! Just the ends!” she said, panicked.

He nodded, unapologetic. “Yes, that is just the ends. Your hair is still far too long, but it was just ridiculous before. I took care of that for you.”

She bolted up and looked behind her to see a pile of her hair, lifelessly coiling on the ground. “You cut it so short!” She said, reaching down to feel the ends of her hair, which now danced at a length that would probably fall right at the top of her jeans. Still long, but so much shorter than before. Over a year’s worth of growth, just gone. The ends felt particularly heavy and blunt. She looked up and saw that he was filming her. “What are you doing?”

“I figured you’d want a clip of your reaction to your new hair,” he said, before taking a few pictures of her and the pile of hair on the ground. “Sit back down, I’m not done with you.”

I should leave, she thought. Max will have to have a long talk with this friend of his. Where did he get off, just shearing her like an errant child sitting down for their summer cut? She reached up to take off her cape and she threw it at him, but he grabbed her arm and firmly guided her back to the chair. “Fine, we don’t need a cape for this part. But I could see that you enjoyed the privacy of it,” he gestured to the wet spot she’d left on the chair before. “Don’t act like I couldn’t see your hand moving down there. Now sit back down or I’ll tell Max just what a bad girl you’ve really been.”

She started crying then, humiliated by his observation, but followed his lead to sit back down in the chair. Her hair didn’t pool in her lap anymore, but just barely kissed the top of her thighs when she sat down. She mourned her precious Rapunzel hair. “What are you going to do to me? I don’t want it any shorter.”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare take any more length from you without Max being around. That would be selfish of me.”

“Then why can’t I go?”

“Because you need to be neatened up. All this hair, just getting into your face. Getting caught in car doors,” he smirked, and she knew Max had told him about her incident that morning. The thought made her blush. “You need better visibility.”

With that, he took his fine tooth comb and pulled forward a large section of the front of her hair to cover her eyes. She didn’t even have face framing layers, so the length fell like a thick veil in front of her face. “Oh no, Gavin…are you cutting bangs?? Please don’t…” she protested, attempted to wriggle away.

He firmly planted his left hand on her forearm. “Stay still, or these will end up a lot shorter than I’ve planned. Nice and tall for me now, angel,” he said as he brought his shears against her forehead, the cold metal resting well above her eyebrows. She heard a distinct schnick! sound as he clamped his skilled fingers, and a long snake of hair fell to coil on her bare thighs. She gasped and he continued to cut, thick section after thick section, each hair sliding down her body and into her lap. “There,” he said with satisfaction dripping from his voice. “Now your hair won’t be in your eyes so much.”

He stepped aside so she could see herself in the mirror and her tears increased. She looked so different, with blunt short bangs framing her face. No more tossing her hair effortlessly from side to side, these would require regular maintenance and styling. What would Max think when he saw her? What would her followers think? They didn’t look bad—he’d done a good job. But she didn’t look like her.

On that thought, the bell to the door rang to disrupt any thoughts. Max barged in, the rain and wind whipping into the shop as he slammed the door shut behind him.

“What is this?” His eyes had an unreadable fire inside them. “I saw your little Instagram story, Jane.”

Jane looked over at him with her tear-stained eyes. “I..I didn’t want this. I just wanted a trim,” she tried to explain, feeling somehow culpable for her current state.

Max locked the door behind him. “I can’t believe you got started without me,” he said, and took his time to close the blinds of the shop so that no passersby could see inside.

Gavin smiled at his friend, “I couldn’t resist. She was so eager to hop into the chair, practically begging for me to shear her.”

She gasped, “What? I never—“

Gavin held aloft the tendril of hair he saved from earlier. “I saved this for you.”

Max grabbed the 8-inch cutting in his hand and examined it. “Wow, some trim, Gavin,” he laughed. He set the hair back on the station and turned his attention to his girlfriend who was increasingly confused in her chair. Her lap was still littered with the ruins of what was now her bangs. For some reason she couldn’t bring herself to stand up and let more of her precious hair fall on the floor. “Oh wow, look at you. Look at all that hair.” He held her chin in his rough hand and examined her from side to side. “Bangs, Gavin? Really?”

Gavin chuckled. “You know I love good, blunt bangs.”

Max responded, “And YOU know that I don’t. No, these won’t do at all.”

“What is happening?” Jane demanded. “I just wanted to surprise you by visiting and asking for the trim that you have been so eager to give me, and now I’m practically bald…”

“My love, you are nowhere close to bald. Not yet, anyway. And I have been wanting to give you much more than a trim. I have been imagining your hair on this floor for a long time.”

“It’s all he talks about,” Gavin said. “We have been daydreaming about what we would do to that mane of yours if we got you in here since the day you two met.”

Her heart was pounding. “Both of you? Max, I know you thought my hair was too long, but this…”

“It’s the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen in real life. And I want to take it from you. I want you to let me take it as a symbol of your submission to me. Your most beautiful feature, completely under my control.”

“…I don’t understand.”

“You will walk around with the haircut of our choosing, and every time you look in the mirror, every time some guy on your Instagram account says what a shame it was for you to cut your long, perfect hair, every time someone you know gasps at the sight of your new transformation. I want you to think of this day. I want you to think about how I could take you back here whenever I feel like, and we could do whatever we want to it. I need this, Jane.”

“…I don’t know,” she struggled to wrap her brain around it. How short would they take her? She loved her hair, it was her pride and joy. But she also knew that if he really wanted to…

“Stand up, Jane,” he said, holding her hand. Her long tendrils of hair slide past her thighs and onto the ground and she whimpered at the sight. He kissed her then, running his hand through her newly shortened hair. She still was unused to how it just…stopped, right past her waist when it had been flowing past her hips just moments earlier. And those bangs…she sank into the kiss and barely noticed when he lifted her sweater over her head. He unhooked her bra and her breasts spilled forward. He pulled her hair to cover her front.

“Look at you. Your hair is still long enough to cover your tits,” he said and turned her to face the mirror. She breathed shallowly as she took in her appearance—the short bangs and still long hair covering her. She felt exposed in front of her boyfriend’s friend, who she’d only just met and now was flung into this fast intimacy with. She noticed that Gavin had taken her seat in the chair and was watching them both with hungry eyes. “For now. Those bangs have got to go, though.”

How can you get rid of bangs? she puzzled.

Max kneeled briefly to pull down her panties and instructed her to step out of them. He brought his calloused palm to cup her and explore her with his fingers. When he brushed her sensitive clit, she nearly lost her balance. “Wow, you’re already so ready.”

“She was touching herself under her cape as I chopped her hair, Max.”

Her cheeks bloomed with color and she struggled to get a word out. “I didn’t—“

“Oh were you? Don’t be bashful now.” Max looked at her with a devilish grin. “You liked a little distraction during your shearing? I have an idea.”

He spun her to face Gavin again, and this time he had pulled his pants down just enough that his dick stood hard and full from his seated position. She looked away, but Max pulled her face back to look. “It’s OK to look,” he said. “Let me guide you.”

Her body felt electric and even though she felt so wrong, a big part of her wanted whatever these two men had in store for her. Max guided her back to the chair and instructed her to straddled Gavin’s hips. Gripping her hips in his hands, he guided her down to envelop his friend’s cock inside her. Gavin was big, and so hard, but she was dripping wet and was able to fully take him all the way in. The pleasure was immediate and relieving, but it also made her feel high as her boyfriend massaged her breasts from behind and gave her kisses on the neck and encouragements. “Yeah, that’s a good girl. Take his cock nice and deep, OK?”

She began to ride him slowly at first, rocking her hips back and forth. Gavin found her clit with his thumb and held firm pressure there as she rode him. He gripped her ass with his free hand and thrust upward to meet her rhythm. She was so lost in pleasure that she didn’t realize that Max had turned around to grab things from the station. She felt him return as he grabbed her hair back into his fist. She moaned at the pressure, and gasped when she felt the scissors enter into her thick hair, right at the base of her neck.

The sound and feeling sent her over the top into a huge, body shaking orgasm. “Hold her still,” Max told his friend and Gavin held her into his chest as he continued to saw through her thick locks. She moaned as he sliced, sliced, sliced. Vaguely through the overwhelming pleasure, she felt impossibly short hanks of her hair fall haphazardly against her cheeks. After what felt like an eternity, her breath settled back into a more steady rhythm and the cutting stopped. She kept her eyes closed for a bit as if to hide from the reality of what had just happened…

“Open your eyes, Jane,” Max said, and she lifted her head and turned around to face him. In his hands, he held aloft her impossibly long ponytail. Over two feet of luscious brown hair, severed bluntly in his outstretched hand. She turned to face the mirror and saw a stranger facing her. She still had those short, blunt bangs, but her long princess hair was replaced with a choppy, uneven bob that fell in different lengths from her chin to the top of her shoulders.

“What did you do to me?” She asked, stunned.

“Don’t worry, we’re not done yet. I need you nice and still for this next part.”

He guided her up and off of Gavin, who was still hard as a rock for her. He got up and the two men both entered into their professional barber modes, sitting her back in the chair and discussing their plans in terms she didn’t understand as if she were just a piece of furniture the two men were loading together into a truck.

Gavin handed the cape back to Max, and Max tied it back around her neck, nice and tight. She was grateful for the shield to cover her naked and quaking body, but terrified at what was to come.

“Please don’t cut it too short…” she begged quietly, losing hope that they were listening to her at all.

She caught snippets in their hushed conversation: “Don’t wanna go full razor shave today…” “Yeah, save that for a special occasion…” “Low drop fade? Bowl cut? That sure would take care of those bangs…” “Hey, I like the bangs.” “You knew they would forced me to take her short today, didn’t you?”

After an agonizing wait, they returned their attention to her. Max combed through the wreckage of what remained of her once glorious locks, meticulously parting a section around her occipital bone and clipping the rest up. “Ok Jane, this will only take a moment,” he said, before grabbing his heavy duty Wahl clippers and flipping them on. The sound made her jump.

“Clippers? Those are for boys, Max…” she pleaded, but he didn’t relent. Gavin held the top of her head down and Max plunged the clippers into the back of her nape, carving a path up to the parting. The vibration of the clippers, the feeling of her hair being peeled away from her virgin scalp, the air on her skin, was overwhelming. It turned her on, and it scared her. Fear and arousal danced in tandem as he continued to carve row after row of buzzed skin into her thick, beautiful hair. Tears filled her eyes again, but he didn’t relent. He was focused on his task, and good at his job. Finally, the clippers stopped. She thought she was done, but he clicked off the guard and returned to her scalp, clipping more and more hair on her nape. Slowly, meticulously, he worked until the lower part of her head was neatly faded.

When he was done, he blew on her nape and she shivered. “Good job being still for me, baby. You look so much better already without all that unnecessary hair.”

Gavin released his grip on her and she was able to look up and into her reflection.

“Feel it,” Max said, bringing her hands up to caress her denuded nape. It felt so foreign to her that her immediate reaction was to pull away like she’d touched a hot stove, but he guided her hands back. “I used a 3 guard up here at the very top, and then a 2 down here, down to a 1. And then I took the guard off completely to clean up the edges.”

It was like a soft pelt, and it was extremely sensitive under her delicate touch. It sent a strange thrill through her that she couldn’t quite place to feel it, but it didn’t feel like her. “Are we done?” she asked.

“Still need to finish the top,” Max smiled, clearly enjoying every minute of her transformation. He brought her shoulders back to sit up straight and he unclipped the top part of her hair. He picked up his shears again and she watched him make quick work of what remained of her hair, snipping and forming the top, cutting off her brand new bangs so that they blended into her new short pixie. More and more hair slid down her cape, piling up on her shoulders as he worked with extreme focus, like a carver discovering his art in a hunk of clay. Finally, the slicing stopped and he set his scissors down. He took a big fluffy brush and ran it all over her head and neck, the feeling making her moan.

He lifted up a small mirror and let her hold it as he turned her around so she could get a good look at her new self. She saw a person reflected back with a very short textured cut, about 2 inches at its longest, and impossibly short faded back and sides. It was a perfect cut, and she had to admit she looked good, but as she examined the wreckage of her hair around her…her beloved locks resting as a long shorn ponytail, abandoned on the counter, the rest a mountain of clippings on a cold tile floor…she felt the acute loss of her beautiful mane. It was akin to grief.

Why, then, did it turn her on so much?

“Come feel how smooth this cut is, Gavin,” Max called his friend over, and the two men admired their handiwork. Gavin ran his hands through her shortened locks, pulling and caressing as Max ran both hands against her fresh undercut. “So beautiful,” they were saying. “Such a brave girl.” She couldn’t resist leaning into their praise, their touches, and she felt the heat inside her rise again. Maybe she could still be sexy without her trademark locks. Maybe her submission had been the hottest sacrifice she could have made…

Before she knew it, she and Max were kissing again. Her cape was being torn off by someone, she didn’t know who. Hands were everywhere on her…her shorn head, her bare neck, her newly revealed back, her tits. She felt completely naked, with nothing to hide behind. In the haze of desire she was bent over the station counter, facing Gavin. She took his cock into her mouth just as Max entered her from behind, both men continuing their fevered touches and reassurances.

She was nearing another orgasm when Max said, “Oh my god, look at all that hair” and the thought of her hair being all over the floor, but not on her anymore sent her into orbit. It didn’t take long before both men joined her in taking their pleasure. Max came deep inside her, and Gavin pulled out to come over her freshly shorn scalp.

Later, after they caught their breath, Max held Jane close to his body, stroking what remained of her hair, to ground her back from the intensity of what had just happened and Gavin leaned back into the adjacent chair, breaking his rule of no smoking in the shop by pulling out a cigarette and taking a long, steadying drag from it. Nobody said anything for a while, until Jane broke the post-coital repose.

“What do you mean you guys have been thinking about doing that to me for so long? Did you guys really talk about that? What you would want to do with me and my hair?”

Both men laughed. “You have no idea,” Gavin said. “It was an obsession.”

Max agreed. “Every time we were alone in here, we’d imagine what it would be like to have you in here. We’d talk through scenarios. What we liked and didn’t like.”

“So, it’s like, a sexual thing…for you both. Hair. Haircuts.”

“It seems like it got you going as well,” Max smiled and kissed the top of her shorn head.

“Is it just MY hair?” she asked.

“Well no, we’ve both always been attracted to hair and haircuts. It’s actually how we met, through an online forum. Women’s hair is what turns us on, cutting it especially, but we both liked the barbershop setting, so that’s what got us into becoming barbers. And while you aren’t the only girl whose hair we are drawn to, your hair was perfect. Like he said, obsessed.”

“WAS perfect?” she said, feeling disheartened by the loss of her best feature.

“You are the hottest woman alive to me with this short little cut, but it’s made even hotter remembering how glorious your hair once was. How much it must have meant to you to give it up for me. Plus,” he said, picking up her severed ponytail. “We’ll always have this to remember just how beautiful your hair used to be.”

“I’m going to lose all my followers online,” she lamented. “No one is going to want to follow a girl online with buzzed short hair.”

Both men stole a glance at each other, grinning. “I think you’d be surprised,” Gavin said. “There’s quite the market for your new look.”

Max returned his hand to trail along her nape. He couldn’t keep his hands off of her.

 

 

 

[This one was a bit of a departure from some of my other stories! As always, I’d love to hear from any folks who enjoyed reading.]