BarbersChoice
“Well I did say you could get it cut like you like it babe” as the wife and I walked out of the barbershop a few hours ago. And that she did, and to think I paid $14 for a proper haircut for my love Sharon and today’s bi weekly trim was just that – a mere trim. I thought I would do her a solid, after all her 40th class reunion was later in the evening, and well, walking in with a freshly skinned spouse even at times made me a bit uneasy… Said no one ever!
Oh but she knew the drill, she knew having me watch at the shop earlier hadn’t satisfied my desire so as we walked in the apartment door she walked me straight to the bedroom. Her M.O. always the same. She reaches for my cock and we end up in bed, her between my thighs stroking, licking, tugging, pulling, yanking, caressing my member with the vigor of a horny little bitch.
As I lay back trying my best to enjoy her deep throated experience, my only thought was that again, she needed to know what the deal was. She had been way past due for a cleanup and after leaving it up to her tell the barber how I liked it, her words must have come out muffled. The two week growth was still there.
As she literally ran every inch of my penis down her throat, “SCHNIK” – the sound she’s heard many, many times in the past, the cue she knew all to well. I reached over, flipped on the light, to see her eyes piercing back at mine, my dick resting in her mouth. On/off, on/off – I flipped the switch of the big Oster 76 clippers, the ones always plugged in on both sides of the bed. Often I simply flip the switch in the middle of the night, and she’s like a firefighter getting a middle of the night alert. She’s up, reaching for my cock, ultimately allowing me to explode in her mouth on a regular basis. We don’t speak, she’s learned to swallow and drift back off to sleep. It’s the reprieve she needs to keep herself out of the barber chair more often.
She’s on the cock sucking hard as most times I simply move the clippers toward her head, stopping only when my hot cum strikes the back of her throat! She has become quite adept at “getting me off” at the right time, and for a brief moment – I always seem to refrain from running the clippers over her head, She is scared shitless… What a feeling…
Today would be different. I unloaded my wad as she swallowed every drop just like a good wife should. But today I would teach her a lesson, that if I’m to pay$14 for a proper haircut, she needed to comply and get a proper cut. I told her to close her eyes and this morning, the teasing did not stop here as it usually did. Today I simply ran the Loud 76 shears right down the middle of her scalp, the #2 blade cutting a fresh patch revealing just a tad bit of scalp. And that was that, I shut the machine off and told her I would be downstairs in a few minutes where I would finish the cut. As I walked past the bathroom I see my girl peering into the mirror wondering what the fuck just happened. Her signature poof on top of her head now had what was essentially a newly paved road right down the middle.
“I know babe, I know” I said as I wrapped my arms around her form behind holding my gal gently.
“Lets get this messed cleaned up and get you ready for your big reunion tonight” I said… “Tell me you want me to skin your ass babe” I said whispering ever so softly. “Tell the barber what you like”
She dropped her head and with an ever faint response.
“Skin me baby, clean me up real good please” – as she whimpered and walked out
Moments later she sat in our home shop, as I prepared the chair.
“NEXT”- I always try to mimic the sights and sounds of the old school barbershop.
Sharon walked over, sat crossing her legs. Tissue tight, cape even tighter, I pumped the chair. And with a few steps behind the chair, I fired up our other set of big shears, the Titan 880 from Oster. I attached the triple 000 blade and I placed my palm heavily on her crown, I made sure she caught site of the 3 zeros on the blade – she knew all to well the path of destruction the Triple would unleash on her scalp.
“How short are we goin’ young lady” – as any polite barber would ask back in the day. She said nothing.
With a gentle kiss on the cheek, I whirled the loud machine near her ear, the smell of the grinding blades now permeating the room. The old black and white Tv in the corner playing reruns of an old Western, the shop we designed in our basement with decor from a true 1960’s Barbershop. The old fashioned barber pole, 30 year old magazines, posters of men and boys short haircuts of the day dotted the walls. The only difference was the 85 inch flatscreen front and center which always played videos of women getting sheared.
And with that I whispered the words my gal had grown to hate.
“Head down dear”
It ceases to amaze me that still after years of shearings, I’m still rock hard every time I see the cold steel blades removing every bit of femineity she has – at least from her head! Well the blade does start out chilly to the touch of her neck, but after a 1/2 hour or so, the blade gets super hot to the touch!
Later that day a TEXT from my gal:
We need to leave by 6, it’s an hour in traffic to the hotel.
As we parked just outside the venue, we were indeed a few minutes early. It gave me the opportunity to ask how please she was with her fresh cut. I commented that I probably should have softened up the lines a bit more earlier, but that i was going for the “prison look” I guess, in a joking manner of course.
“Oh babe, I just remembered I have the foil shaver in the glove box.
We walked in after a few minutes in the truck, as I had taken advantage of our early arrival to soften up the lines and take her down to a smooth bald fade. Although her her smooth bald nape and the glow of her shiny skin above her ears made her look a bit “manly” – my gal was always on point at reminding everyone though her hair is “boy short,” her feminine look still shines bright! Flawless makeup, dressed to kill, high heels with her signature large (fuck me) hoop earrings that highlight the perfect contrast between elegance and her skin tight cut.
It was a great night over all – especially seeing the little gray chards of hair that had collected on her white collar. To see my girl strut around the event damn near bald, in front of folks is for me, incredibly pleasurable. I’m sure everyone thought she had just come from the barbers. In fact she had indeed!
