More Than Just Her Hair

Diane sipped at her glass of champagne with a sigh. Two fucking hours at this stupid party, and nobody had stared at her boobs even once. All eyes were on her hair and only her hair, despite the effort she had put into the rest of her body. She wore a sleeveless black dress with thin shoulder straps, deep cleavage and side slit skirts. It accentuated her breasts, her arms, and her legs at the same time. A long gold necklace with a pendant placed directly between her breasts further served to direct eyes to her chest. An array of gold and silver bangles adorned her bare arms, and her feet were clad in elegant sandals with thin straps that exposed her slender feet entirely. Black nail polish on both fingers and toes added a final flourish to her appearance.

But throughout the evening, not one man ogled her breasts. Not one foot guy was among the crowd, staring at her feet. All eyes were on her hair. Every compliment was directed at her hair. She finished her glass of champagne and looked for a waitress to get a refill. As her eyes roamed through the large hall, she spotted a man approaching. He sat down next to her and showed her a beaming smile.

He didn’t even look into her eyes. She had spent hours in front of the mirror, bringing out her soft features with subtle application of makeup, yet it was as if her face didn’t even exist. His gaze was directed above her eyebrows, towards her hairline.

“Hello there,” the man said, and Diane already knew what was coming next. “Out of all the long-haired beauties in this hall, yours is the most–”

“Oh wow, that is the fifty-sixth time I’ve heard that today,” she interrupted. “I’ve been counting. So, that’s your angle? Complimenting my hair? Can’t you come up with something better?”

“Um… I mean… this is a hair gala…”

“So you think you can seduce me with the most obvious flirt of them all? You think the other guys here haven’t thought of complimenting my hair yet? That’s all I ever hear. Girl, your hair is so silky, so long, so thick, so healthy. I know! That’s why I was fucking invited here, for God’s sake! Tell me something I haven’t heard before!”

“Well… uh…” The man was stammering, surprised by her hostility. He hadn’t expected that kind of response from a contender for the World’s Most Beautiful Hair prize.

“So, I assume your goal is to seduce me and drag me off to your hotel room when the party is over. Just tell me one thing: if I were to join you in bed tonight, what would be the one thing you would most like to do with me?”

The smile returned to the man’s face as he stared intently at her silky locks. “I would run my fingers through your hair, kiss it, feel it…” His smile turned into a devilish smirk. “Maybe even fuck it, to give it all the love it deserves.”

“Of fucking course,” Diane blurted out. “My fucking hair again!” She put her hands against her B-cup breasts and squeezed. “Wouldn’t you rather grab my tits?” She put a sandaled foot up on his chair, right between his legs. “Or suck on my toes, maybe? I know a lot of guys who like feet.” She put a hand in his face and spread her long, slender fingers. “Or maybe you’d like me milk your dick with my fingers? I’m an artist, you know. I know how to use my hands. But no. You don’t want any of that. You want to play with my fucking hair. It’s always my hair. Hair, hair, hair, as if the rest of my body doesn’t even exist. I’m a woman, for fuck’s sake! My body starts at my scalp and ends at my feet and there’s a whole lot in between. I should just shave it all off, dump in on a chair and fuck off so you can talk to my hair all night and forget about the rest, because apparently that’s what you want to do.” She took a deep breath and raised her glass to her lips, only to realize that it was empty. She set it on the table and got to her feet. “Now if you would excuse me, I need to catch some fresh air.”

Diane beelined her way to the nearest balcony and stepped outside, leaving the party and its all-too-hair-centered guests behind. Her straight black hair reached well past her waist, silky and soft. It was her most defining feature that kickstarted her career as a celebrity, but now she felt suffocated by it. It was all anyone cared about. But where was the appreciation for the Diane that lived underneath it?

She started out as a hair model for the easy money, but now her focus was on her art. She loved to paint, she loved to write, and she tried her hand at everything. She had painted abstract modern art as well as classical figurative paintings. She had written experimental poetry, avant-garde literary fiction, and genre fiction including romance, mystery, thrillers, fantasy, science fiction. Her proudest work was a graphic novel she made all by herself, all the art, all the story. An epic science fiction adventure with philosophical undertones that even won an award for its innovative storytelling.

But during the award ceremony, the jurors gave an additional award to her hair. They had done it as a joke to honor her career as a hair model, but it made her feel like no matter what she did, she couldn’t escape her hair’s shadow. She wanted to be known as Diane the artist, but everyone knew her as Diane with the gorgeous black hair who also did some art on the side.

“I know I wouldn’t be where I am without you,” she whispered to her hair, running a hand through her long tresses, “but I’m starting to feel trapped by your beauty. Whenever people look at me, they only see you… as if the rest of me doesn’t exist.”

She stood with her hands gripping the balcony’s railing, looking out at the garden below. The hair gala was hosted at a millionaire’s mansion, a large baroque building with a large dance hall and beautiful gardens. Every woman invited to the gala had gorgeous hair, and at the end of the night, three awards would be given out to the women with the most beautiful hair in the world. Diane knew she was going to be one of them. Whether she was going to win first, second, or third prize she wasn’t sure, but she was going to be among the winners without doubt. She was one of the biggest names in hair modeling.

No, not she. Her hair was. Nobody cared for the woman beneath the tresses.

The words she told the man who attempted to flirt with her returned to her mind. I should just shave it off and dump it on a chair so you can talk to my hair and forget about the rest. Maybe she should go through with it. When people looked at her, they only saw her hair. It was like a veil that concealed the rest of her. If she cut it off, people would finally be able to discover the woman underneath.

She opened her purse and pulled out a pair of scissors. She kept it in there as a tool in case she ever needed it, along with a knife, a little screwdriver, a flashlight… she liked to come prepared for anything. They were no hairstylist’s scissors, but they were good enough to do the job. All she wanted was to rid herself of her hair. Beautiful as it was, it had controlled her life for way too long. It was time to say goodbye.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and set the scissors against a lock of her hair, only a few centimeters from her scalp. Breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… the scissors closed with a satisfying shnick and a thick lock of silky black sailed down to her feet. She felt a tingle in her chest, right above her heart. It was liberating. She cut off another, and another. Butterflies raced through her stomach. A smile curled up her lips.

She bent down and picked up the severed locks. So long, so thick, so silky. For years, they had been on her head and defined how people saw her. But no more. She placed a loving kiss on them and said, “I love you, but it’s better for both of us if we part. If my life keeps going on like this, I will only grow to hate you. Farewell!”

With these words, she released her locks to the wind. They were picked up by a breeze and carried into the garden, where they found a new home among the trees.

“Diane!” a woman called out behind her. The voice sounded familiar. “Diane Adams! I’ve been looking for you all evening. God, it’s so exciting to finally meet you.”

Diane quickly returned the scissors to her purse and turned around. It was Rosie Luss, a popular YouTuber known for her absolutely gorgeous red hair. It was just as long as Diane’s, but wavy instead of straight and so shiny it almost seemed to glow on its own, even in the dim light of the moon. The videos that focused on her hair were her most popular, but she also made some wonderful arts and crafts videos Diane loved to watch. She had discovered Rosie’s channel through the hair modeling community, but she stayed for the wonderful creative videos.

Diane greeted her with a smile. “Rosie! How nice to meet you. I’m a big fan of your videos.”

Rosie blushed, her cheeks turning red as her hair. “Oh! You flatter me. Thank you. My hair is almost as nice as yours, isn’t it?”

Diane chuckled. “Your hair is much nicer than mine. But that’s not what I mean. I love those little handicraft videos you make. The crocheting, the sewing, the woodworking… the things you craft are so cute.”

“Really?” There was a glint in Rosie’s eye, and the corner of her lip twitched upwards. “I didn’t think anyone watched those. They only get a tenth of the views my hair videos get. I only upload them because I enjoy the craft.”

Diane stared down at her feet and released a sigh. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I create so many things but all everyone cares about is my hair.”

“Not everyone.” Rosie rummaged in her large purse made of red leather, red like her hair. Her entire outfit was red, matching with her mane. A red dress, red pumps, red lipstick. Just like Diane, who wore all black like her hair. Diane smiled. They seemed to be quite similar in more ways than just their outfits. Both loved to create art, but people paid more attention to their hair than their creative efforts.

Rosie pulled a thick book from her purse. When Diane recognized the cover art, her jaw dropped. “Oh my God! You’ve read my comic?”

Rosie nodded, her eyes gleaming like a fangirl’s. “Of course! I’ve been looking forward to this event for weeks. When I heard you would attend, I was jumping with joy! I’ve been a fan of yours for years. Got hardcover copies of all your books on my shelves, but your graphic novel Kristina Kosmik Journeys Through Space and Time is my absolute favorite.” She opened the book at the first page and handed Diane a pen with shaky fingers. “Can you sign this, please? I’d love to have your autograph.”

Diane could barely believe this was happening. The pen almost felt unreal under her fingertips. Nobody had ever asked her for an autograph before. After a moment’s hesitation, she quickly signed her name onto the first page in big swirly letters. Diane Adams. Her first autograph. She couldn’t just leave it like that. It was too plain. She looked Rosie in the eyes, and both women smiled with sudden joy.

For Rosie, my sister in hair, she added. They had so much in common, this was the perfect dedication. Same long hair. Similar hobbies. Same sense of style.

“Thank you.” Rosie raised the autographed book to her lips and placed a kiss on its cover. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

They stayed out on the balcony for a long time, talking about their interests, about their lives, about everything. Diane’s heart sang with joy. She had finally found someone who liked her not for her hair, but for who she was underneath. Who liked her simply for being Diane.

“I didn’t expect to have such a wonderful conversation with you,” Rosie said after a while. “I thought you’d only be interested in talking about hair, like all the others at this party… oh, huh. What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Rosie raised a hand to Diane’s head and pulled at the short locks hanging across her forehead, barely reaching her eyebrows. “Oh no! Your beautiful hair! What happened? An accident?”

Diane took a deep breath. Her heart was beating faster. Should she tell her the truth? More importantly, should she continue with her plan to chop it all off? She could come up with an excuse and leave it like it was… only a few locks were missing, close to her forehead. Barely noticeable, and if people noticed, she could claim they were micro-bangs.

Diane closed her eyes. “I want to cut it off.”

“What?”

“I want to cut it all off. Get rid of my hair.”

“But Diane!” Rosie stared at her with shock written in her face. “Your hair is so beautiful. Why would you want to do that to yourself?”

“Because I’m tired of being defined by my hair. I have a dozen published novels and an award-winning comic, but all people see when they look at me is my hair, not the things I do.” Diane let out a sigh. “Rosie… take a good look at me and tell me what you see.”

Rosie looked at her for a long moment. Then she said, “A beautiful woman with the most wonderful hair I have ever seen. Black as the night sky and soft as silk.”

“See? That’s my point. My hair has become such a defining feature of my appearance that nobody looks beyond it anymore. That’s why I want to cut it off. Don’t get me wrong, I love my hair, but if I keep living like this I will grow to hate it… and I don’t want that. I’d rather part with it on friendly terms.”

Silence remained between the two women for a long moment. When Rosie finally broke it, Diane’s heart jumped with excitement. “I used to be a hairstylist. If you really want to get it cut, I can do it for you. It would be really sad to see your lovely hair go, but before you go to a hair salon… I think it should rather be done by a friend.”

Heart pounding rapidly, Diane retrieved the scissors from her purse and placed them in Rosie’s hands. “Then I will ask you to cut my hair. Please.”

“What – right here? Right now?” Rosie threw a glance through the glass door into the large ballroom. “Where everyone can see us?”

“Don’t be silly. Nobody is looking at us, they’re too busy dancing and getting drunk on overpriced champagne.”

“But the awards – you’re bound to be chosen as a winner! If you cut it off now and they call you to the stage–”

“Then I’ll accept my reward with short hair! Please, Rosie. You asked for my autograph… now I’m asking you for a haircut.”

Rosie looked at the scissors in her hand, then at the lovely locks on Diane’s head. First, she shook her head – but then she turned it into a nod. “Alright. What cut do you want?”

“Something short. Really short. I want it all gone.”

“So, a short crop.” Rosie took the short locks at Diane’s forehead between her fingers, feeling their softness. “About this length, all over? That would be three, four centimeters. Not much, but enough that you can still style it.”

Diane nodded. “Yes, please. That length all over.” She ran a hand through her long hair for the last time, saying farewell with a loving touch.

Rosie put the scissors into Diane’s hair and hesitated. “Last chance to pull out.”

“Do it.”

The scissors closed, and a long lock fell. A rain of hair tumbled down Diane’s scalp as Rosie’s fingers worked the scissors. With each lock that fell, Diane’s head became lighter – and so did her heart. As the curtain of her hair fell, the woman beneath was revealed. To Diane’s surprise, the warmth she felt in her breast spread to other parts of her body – including her womanhood. The shnick, shnick, shnick of the scissors and the liberating feeling of long locks being severed from her head stirred strange feelings within her that made her question everything.

Why was she getting turned on by this?

After a while, the steady snipping of the scissors stopped, and she felt Rosie’s hand brush through her now-short hair. Her own hand went up to feel her new haircut and touched Rosie’s. Their fingers interlocked, and Diane felt something stir within her again.

“Thank you, Rosie.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

Rosie removed her hand from Diane’s head, but the feeling of her touch lingered. “It really is a shame about your hair. But… the short cut doesn’t look bad on your either. You have the face for it.”

“I do?”

Rosie nodded. “Soft, round corners and silky smooth skin. The crop really brings out your cheeks. You’re still beautiful.”

“I’m still beautiful.” Diane looked down. Her feet were surrounded by a huge pile of hair. It was almost surreal to behold. “Rosie… please take a good look at me again and tell me what you see now. Take your time. Be honest.”

Rosie braced her hands against her hips and looked at Diane. Her eyes wandered from her short-cropped hair all the way down to her feet, taking in every centimeter of her body on their journey.

“I see a beautiful woman. Her hair is black as the night and soft as silk, but it is too short to hide anything. Her face is soft and delicate, her lips an elegant red curve under a small nose. The pale skin of her neck and shoulders is like the moon shining in the night sky, bright and lovely. Also like the moon are her two breasts, small but round, their shape an elegant curve on her slender body. Her hands look soft. They have an artist’s touch to them. Two shapely legs stick out from the slits of her skirt, ending in beautiful, shapely feet with small toes that look just as soft as her fingers. She is beautiful from head to toe. Every centimeter of her body is a work of art.” Rosie took a deep breath. “That is what I see. I… I’m sorry, Diane. I didn’t want it to sound so cheesy.”

Diane smiled warmly. “No need to be sorry, Rosie. It sounded beautiful.” She grabbed Rosie’s hand and squeezed it. She felt a tingle in her chest again. Rosie’s blue eyes were so warm and deep, like wells of water she could drown in. “Thank you. Do you have a mirror? I want to see for myself.”

“Of course.” Rosie took a small pocket mirror from her purse and held it up. Diane looked at her new self.

Her hair, reaching well below her waist only moments ago, was now only a few centimeters in length. It didn’t even cover her ears. Every feature of her face was free, uncovered. She never noticed the shape of her ears before. They formed an elegant curve at the side of her head. Neither had she noticed the shape of her throat and shoulders like this before. There was so much beauty in and around her face that had been invisible before, when the suffocating length of her hair distracted from it all. But no more. All the subtle curves of her soft features were plain to see now. Her short hair didn’t distract from her face at all, unlike the long mane that used to command all attention.

“I think we should go back inside now. They are going to declare the winners soon.”

Diane laughed. “Still think I’m going to win the World’s Most Beautiful Hair award?”

“The jury already made their decision. They won’t be very happy when you walk up the stage like this.”

“Fuck them! Who cares about their opinion?” Diane ran her hands through her hair, enjoying the feeling of the short locks between her fingers. “I’m happy with my new haircut. And it’s about time people realized that I’m more than just my hair.”

Rosie bent down and gathered the fallen locks from the floor. Her fingers softly brushed against Diane’s feet, and Diane felt the warm tingle in her body again. It started in her chest and spread towards her womanhood. There was something about Rosie’s touch… something special. Rosie, that beautiful redhead who shared all the same passions. Rosie, her hair sister…

Diane had to laugh out loud. Not hair sisters anymore, now that hers was gone. She should have come up with something different for her autograph.

“What’s so funny?” Rosie asked after she stuffed all the shorn-off hair into her purse. It barely fit inside.

“Oh, nothing.” Diane pointed at Rosie’s purse. “You’re taking that as a souvenir?”

“Hell yeah. You think I’m going to leave my favorite author’s hair on the floor? It’s even better than an autograph!”

With wide smiles on their lips, the two women returned into the ballroom. The other guests were too busy dancing and drinking to notice Diane’s new haircut.

But soon, when the winners of the World’s Most Beautiful Hair award were called to the stage, they would.

 

***

 

Surprisingly few people had noticed Diane’s new haircut. The award ceremony was beginning and everyone was seated. Diane shared a table with Rosie, and she overheard people sitting at a table nearby talk about who that short-haired woman is that suddenly entered the hair gala. A wide grin appeared on her face. Her hair had been such a prominent part of her appearance that people didn’t even recognize her with the new cut!

They were in for a shock if she was called to the stage. No, not if – when. Before the cut, Diane’s hair had been among the most impressive manes in the hall, and pretty much every woman invited to this gala had hair of exceptional beauty.

“Silence, everyone! We are about to announce the three winners of the World’s Most Beautiful Hair award!”

The din of conversation fell silent, and all eyes looked toward the stage where the jury was assembled.

“Winner of the third prize is… Annabelle Delacroix! Please come forward!”

The woman walked up to the stage and was welcomed with a great applause. She was an amateur actress starring in plenty of B-movies, often playing a femme fatale who seduced the protagonist with her alluring hair. It was easy to see why she was typecast into such roles. Her brown hair was a waist-long mass of curls that bounced merrily as she walked. She gratefully accepted the third place cup and bowed to the audience. The tips of her long hair brushed against the floor as she bent forward.

She left the stage under great applause, and it was time for the second prize winner to come forward.

“Winner of the second prize is… Diane Adams! Please come forward!”

This was it. Diane’s moment of truth. Rosie showed her an encouraging smile. Diane took her hand and squeezed it. Her friendship with Rosie proved it: she was more than her hair, and damn the opinions of those who couldn’t see it.

Friendship… Diane felt that tingle again. There was more to it, wasn’t there? Much more…

“Miss Adams? Please come forward to claim your prize!”

“Come on,” Rosie said, a wide grin on her face. “Show them your prize-winning hair.”

Diane rose from her chair and made her way to the stage. Many eyes followed her as she walked through the hall, and realization who that short-haired stranger was dawned upon them. When she stepped onto the stage, she wasn’t greeted by applause but by a heavy silence. Not even the judges said a word.

Diane turned to the audience with a wide smile on her soft, beautiful face. No hair was hiding it anymore. Her right hand went up and brushed through her short crop. “I gratefully accept the award for second-most beautiful hair in the world.” She laughed at all the shock-stricken stares directed towards her. “My hair really brings out the beauty in me, doesn’t it? I bet you didn’t expect to see such a striking style today!”

She turned back towards the judges, who faced her with cold, hard glares. “Miss Adams, what happened to your hair? When you entered the gala, you had silky long tresses flowing down to your waist, and now you stand here with this… this… boy-cut.”

“Boy-cut?” Diane laughed in their faces. “Do I look like a boy to you? Come on, take a good look! Check out my whole body, not just the hair on my head! Don’t I have a soft feminine face? A slender figure? Shapely hips and breasts? Elegant hands and feet? You never looked at any of that, have you? All you ever had eyes for was my hair. But no longer! Now that it’s short, you can’t feast your eyes on my long flowing locks anymore. You have to look at my whole body. Am I not more than my hair? I am. I am much more than my hair. I am a woman with a beautiful body and soul, and I’m tired of people not seeing it. I cut off my hair so it will no longer hide who I am.”

A few people in the audience started to clap, but the judges stayed silent. Heat coursed through Diane’s veins, blushing her skin red. After a moment that felt like an hour, the judges finally answered. “The award for the second place will not be given out this year.”

“Fine. You can stick it up your ass. No matter what you say, my new haircut is just as beautiful as the old one, and I will keep it this way for a long, long time.” Diane stormed back to her table and sat down.

Rosie put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. It felt reassuring against her hot skin.

“And now for the first prize,” came the announcement. “Miss Rosie Luss, please come forward!”

“You got the first prize!” Diane touched Rosie’s perfect red locks and combed her fingers through them. “You really have the most beautiful hair. It’s well deserved.”

“Hm. Yeah,” Rosie said with little enthusiasm. She seemed disappointed in the jury for holding back Diane’s prize.

She got up and went to the stage, followed by a roaring applause. After accepting the golden cup that crowned her luscious red locks as the World’s Most Beautiful Hair, she turned to the audience and looked at Diane. Their eyes met, and a spark passed between them.

“My hair has been elected the most beautiful in the world, and while I feel honored to receive this prize, I must express my disappointment at the treatment of a woman I only met today, but whose works I have long admired, and who only a few hours ago called me her sister in hair. I have learned much about her in the short time I’ve known her, and I learned much about myself. She is a great woman, with a beautiful mind and a beautiful heart. She is an artist and a writer, whose works brought joy to many people around the world. Her name is Diane Adams… and she is so much more than just her hair.”

Murmurs went through the audience. Diane blinked away a tear. Rosie could just have taken the prize, but instead, she used her acceptance speech to defend Diane. Yes, it was more than friendship. So, so much more.

Rosie put the award on the floor and pulled a pair of scissors out of her cleavage. A chill crawled up Diane’s spine. She looked into her purse… those were her scissors. Rosie… oh Rosie, what are you going to do?

“I disagree with the jury’s decision to refuse Diane Adams her well-deserved prize. Her hair may be short now, but it is still beautiful. When it was still long, she called me her sister in hair… and now, to protest the jury’s decision, I will join her in solidarity.”

Rosie plunged the scissors into her hair and cut. Diane hardly believed her eyes as she watched her gorgeous red locks fall to the ground. Just like her own, they were severed only a few centimeters from the scalp, turning Rosie’s waist-long mane into a short crop. The room fell so silent, all that could be heard was the relentless shnick, shnick, shnick of iron blades severing silken locks, but Diane didn’t even hear that over the pounding of her own heartbeat.

“Rosie,” she whispered softly as she watched her friend cut her own hair. “Oh, Rosie…”

When she was done, a thick pile of red hair buried Rosie’s feet. She dropped the scissors into the pile and stepped away from the stage, leaving the award where she had put it. “Here you go! The world’s most beautiful hair. You may keep it if you want, and you may keep your award, too. And for anyone else who wants to join us–” She pointed at the scissors lying on top of the mountain of hair. “–here are the scissors. Use them if you like. Because you, all of you, are so much more than just your hair.”

She returned to her table, and the hall broke into chaos. People were arguing loudly about the scene they just witnessed. The jury sat dumbfounded, staring at the world’s most beautiful hair on the floor surrounding the prize it had won.

“Rosie!” Diane jumped off her chair and rushed into Rosie’s arms. “Your beautiful hair! You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t–”

“It’s alright, Diane. Remember what you wrote under your autograph: for my sister in hair. We wouldn’t be hair sisters anymore if I kept mine long while yours was this short, would we?”

Diane touched Rosie’s freshly cropped hair. It felt amazing under her fingers. She could no longer hold herself back. Her arms wrapped around Rosie and she placed a kiss on her lips, right in front of everyone. She didn’t care about anyone’s opinions anymore. There was only Rosie, Rosie and her most beautiful hair in the world, as gorgeous in its short crop as it had been when it was long.

“Diane! What–” The sudden kiss took Rosie by surprise, but from the gleam in her eyes, Diane thought it was a pleasant surprise.

“Come on, my gorgeous redhead, let’s get out of here. I have a really nice hotel room not far from here, big enough for two.”

Rosie responded with a kiss of her own, and a wave of joy exploded outward from Diane’s heart. “Yes, my beautiful raven-hair. Let’s get out of here.”

 

***

 

Rosie sat down at the edge of the bed and slipped out of her heels. “Oh, finally out of those high heels. My feet are killing me.”

Diane sat down next to her and put Rosie’s feet into her lap. Her skilled fingers delivered a relaxing massage and Rosie let out a contented moan.

“You truly have an artist’s hands, Diane.”

Diane raised Rosie’s foot to her lips and placed a kiss on her toes. “My artist’s hands can rub a lot more than just your feet if you want them to.”

Rosie laughed. It was bright and cheerful and made every fiber of Diane’s body tingle as if a thousand butterflies were flapping their wings against her skin.

“Oh, Diane… when I approached you, all I wanted was an autograph. And now… now I got you.”

They fell into a loving embrace and kissed. Diane ran her hands through Rosie’s hair, and Rosie ran her hands through Diane’s. It felt so, so good. Both the feeling of Rosie’s short hair under her fingers, and the feeling of Rosie’s fingers on her own short hair. It was such a different sensation from having long hair. Everything felt different on her scalp. She loved it.

They slipped out of their clothes and rolled into bed. Eager fingers explored bare skin, and soon their tongues joined into the game. Diane touched Rosie’s breasts, felt her nipples harden under her touch. She ran her hands down her smooth, shapely hips. She sucked on her fingers, then on her toes, then ran her tongue up Rosie’s legs until she reached her womanhood. Her hands went up into Rosie’s hair, feeling its shortness, while her tongue danced between her legs.

They made passionate, sensual love, the two women with the most beautiful hair in the world, lost in each other’s arms, filled with each other’s love.

And oh, how beautiful it was. Just as beautiful as it had been when it was long… if not even more so.