On the Hunt – Part 2

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I sat at the breakfast table. “Table for one, madam?” the hostess had asked. I’d nodded and shuffled past other guests to reach solitude at the edge of the room. Food came. I wasn’t really interested.

I watched the families at other tables while I drank a second cup of coffee. Excited kids, ready for the beach. Parents trying to drum up the enthusiasm, when all they wanted to do was relax with a drink. It felt wrong. I shouldn’t be alone. I hoped that the other guests would think that I’d just left my man upstairs having a lie-in. I also hoped that they’d be fooled by the head-scarf that I was using to hide my bald head from the world. Not something that I would’ve chosen, but it was all that they’d had in the hotel shop, and even then, I wondered why they kept them in stock. It served a purpose, even though I wouldn’t win any fashion awards.

My thoughts were of the sudden collapse of my relationship with Rick. It hadn’t taken much in the end to see it crumble to nothing. I just hoped that we would stay civilised, while we untangled what was left of our lives at home. For now, I had practical problems. I’d need to get a wig for the trip home. I didn’t want to go through airport security without looking at least something like my passport photograph. I didn’t want to get into needless discussions about why I looked so different. Was I ill? I wanted to avoid that question at all costs, in any setting.

I wondered if things would’ve worked out differently, if Rick hadn’t seen Cheryl and been fascinated by her lack of hair. What if we’d taken a different route, gone in the other direction to find something to eat? Would he and I still be together? How long would we have gone on for, limping towards the inevitable? The fault lines had been there, undermining us, so if my head shave hadn’t been the trigger, something else would have done it.

It had all happened so quickly. One minute I’d been drinking coffee with my boyfriend, the next I was being seduced by a bald woman, who shaved my hair off and led me into a world that I never thought I’d visit. I couldn’t believe how “easy” I’d been. It was sluttier than sleeping with a guy on a first date; it hadn’t even been a date. I’d spread my legs in a hair salon, for God’s sake! I’d even compounded the sin by going back for seconds.

‘More coffee, madam?’

‘Sorry?’

‘More coffee, madam?’

‘No, thank you’ I replied, startled out of my reverie by the waitress.

The family on the next table were getting up to go. Young, with a couple of toddlers. Twins? I glanced at the husband, but was drawn to the wife. Tall and attractive. Was I looking at her any differently today? Up until yesterday, I would’ve come to the same conclusion, because she was tall and attractive. My eyes probably wouldn’t have checked out her backside though. It was time to go.

I headed for my room, intending to lie by the pool for the morning and then head out to go wig shopping in the afternoon.

It was pleasantly hot by the pool. I’d followed Cheryl’s advice and slapped on the sunscreen to make sure that my scalp didn’t burn. I sheltered under an umbrella and dug into a trashy novel, without a care in the world. Just what I needed. Reading became too much effort. I reclined and closed my eyes.

‘Mummy, mummy. Why hasn’t that lady got any hair?’ I heard. It was followed by a loud “shushing” sound as the curious kid was rapidly dragged away. Was that what I’d have to put up with now? Maybe I’d go to the wig shop before lunch.

My phone pinged. Did I want to look? I didn’t want to get drawn into anything with Rick. Not until I got home. Not until I had to. I resolved to ignore it, but then looked anyway.

Cheryl. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are u ok?”

I wondered what to say. Should I tell her that I was confused? Jolted out of my conventional dead-end relationship and turned into a figure of fun by a razor-wielding woman with lesbian tendencies?

“Fine thnx. Enjoying the sun.” I replied.

“You could do that here”

What did that mean? Wasn’t she at work? Why couldn’t I have stumbled on someone single? She’d given me a choice. I could stay around the hotel and be pointed at or spend some time with people with a more accepting outlook.

In thirty minutes, I’d showered, grabbed some things and was walking down the little path to Cheryl’s villa. My heart was pounding. I wondered what lay ahead. The door opened.

‘Welcome’ Cheryl said.

She was naked, which made the polite kiss on the cheek a little weird. I followed her inside.

‘I decided to take the day off. Carla can cope with whatever walks in at the salon’ she explained.

I accepted the offer of a glass of wine and looked around. The villa was empty. I was hopeful. Tony playing a round of golf would be perfect.

‘Tony’s by the pool’ Cheryl told me, reading my mind and dashing my hopes at the same time.

She put a hand on my hip.

‘You can leave your things in here, if you like’ she said.

‘Things?’

‘As much or as little as you like’ she clarified.

I looked at her. Naked, tanned. I liked to look at her. Enjoyed looking at her boobs, her nipples, the promise of her mound. Why couldn’t Tony have gone out?

She watched me take my sun dress off. I didn’t have a bra on. I tingled when she stroked my left boob, as if it were the most natural thing to do. Her index finger circled my appreciative nipple. I pulled my bikini bottom out of my bag and slid my knickers down in preparation.

‘You’ll be fine like that’ she said gently.

I looked at her.

‘Tony?’ He won’t mind’ she smiled and took my hand. I tossed the bikini bottoms near my bag and steeled myself.

If Tony had been curious last night, he’d have seen a lot more than he was about to, so I gritted my teeth and followed Cheryl into the garden, wearing nothing but a smile.

Tony stood up to greet me. The perfect gentleman, except when he’d originally been taught to stand up to greet people, he’d probably been wearing clothes. And not sporting an erection. I didn’t know where to look.

‘Looks like you were expecting me, Mr Bond’ was all that I could think of by way of greeting.

He put a hand to his head.

‘Freshly done. Cheryl thought you’d like to see me without, so she got the clippers out and sorted me out.’

‘I don’t think that’s what she meant, dear’ Cheryl observed with a knowing smile.

‘Oh, sorry. I hadn’t noticed’ he said, looking down.

I followed his gaze, quietly impressed. He gripped it with his right hand, but there was plenty left over.

I felt Cheryl take me by the hand and lead me to one side. I hadn’t noticed the children’s paddling pool last night and had been too distracted to notice it so far today. Why had they got one when they didn’t have kids? It was empty, but it was clearly Cheryl’s destination. She stepped into it and kept hold of me so that I’d naturally follow. She turned me to face Tony and then let go of my hand.

In moments she was back in contact. She pressed herself against me from behind, one hand making a quick foray across my boobs and further south. I hadn’t anticipated the sensation that followed. She’d poured something onto my head and it was making swift progress downwards, down my face and neck, dripping onto my shoulders. It didn’t smell like the olive oil that she’d used last night. She was basting me liberally with whatever it was, which explained the paddling pool. It prolonged the experience and made the clean-up much easier.

‘Close your eyes’ she instructed quickly, as if she’d meant to voice the instruction earlier.

I sensed the liquid travelling further downwards of its own accord, before feeling Cheryl’s hands help it on its way.

‘What is it?’ I asked, trying not to get any of it in my mouth.

‘Just oil’ she replied, hands busy again.

Her hands roamed freely. Oil coursing down my body was such a strange sensation, complimenting the more-targeted attention of Cheryl’s hands. She was sliding her fingers over my scalp, darting down to my boobs before sliding back up to my head again. She was using her body against mine to spread the oil and for added effect. It was working. I’d never had a proper massage, let alone one with oil, because of the practicalities. It would ruin the sheets, but out here on a glorious sunny afternoon, it made perfect sense. I suspected that this wasn’t the first time that their garden had witnessed a scene like this.

Cheryl had worked enough of the oil away from my eyes that I felt able to open them gingerly. Tony was closer than I expected, but sitting on a chair, where he was stroking himself. It looked like it would be more comfortable with a little oil, but I wasn’t going to suggest that. I reached round for Cheryl, realising just how well she’d managed to coat us both. I turned to face her, wanting to see what she looked like all oiled-up.

She was glistening from head to toe, much as I suspected that I was. We touched, erect nipple to erect nipple and giggled. It was just about the sexiest sight that I’d ever seen. I know that I should be more interested in what Tony had to offer, but at that moment, I only had eyes for Cheryl. She eased away from me, holding on to my hands as she created the distance. The effect was to have me bend forward at the waist, going lower and lower, my head approaching groin height. I was trying to imagine what the oil would taste like, when the penny dropped. This wasn’t for her benefit. Her parting words from last night jumped back into my mind and then it became reality. She actually did want to watch her husband fuck me.

Tony was so gentle that I didn’t even blink when he slid inside me, despite his size. There was no hint of him wanting to make a point, no sudden invasion that forces the breath from your lungs, no suggestion of “take that, woman”. The oil probably helped, but this was the act of a gentleman with all the time in the world, determined to share pleasure. I tried to brace myself with my hands on my knees, but there was no way that it was a practical solution. I stood there, bent forward, as well as I was able, just savouring his every movement.

Cheryl caressed my scalp, occasionally reaching underneath me to squeeze my slippery boobs. Whenever I managed to look at her face, she had an expression of utmost contentment. Her husband was screwing another woman and it looked as though nothing could make her happier. As for me, I really didn’t give a fuck about comments from kids or anything else for that matter. Cheryl and her husband had rescued me from a potentially miserable situation and between them, they were consoling me in just the way that I needed.

Time was of no consequence. All I know is that we played in that kiddie pool for as long as it took, sliding on and off each other, limbs entangled in all manner of permutations. We showered the oil off, which opened up less perilous combinations, once we’d had a glass of wine as refreshment. I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun.

My hotel room seemed quiet and empty, once I got back. I had a bath and wallowed in the memories of my time with Cheryl and Tony. It wasn’t something that I’d ever considered doing, it might be something that I wouldn’t get the opportunity to repeat, but I’d enjoyed it and it had set me on the fast-track to getting over Rick.

Cheryl had actually given me a wig that she said she never used anymore, so that saved me the trouble of going shopping. It did mean though, that I ended up going home as a brunette, rather than the blonde that had arrived at the start of the holiday. My fears about explanations at passport control proved ill-founded. Just one more woman who’d changed her hair colour. Nothing to see. Move on.

Rick had purged all trace of himself from what was now “my” flat. I’d have to thank him, once I’d got myself sorted out. All I needed to do now was to build myself a new life. Nothing to it, really. First of all, I had to re-enter the world of work, a world where I hadn’t been overly happy even before this recent complication.

I sat in the car park, stomach churning. I looked in the mirror. Last time I’d been in work, I was blonde. Now I’d got Cheryl’s wig on. Brunette. Very different. Not what they’d expect. I took a deep breath and got out. I could always get back in the car and ring in sick, I thought. Another deep breath. I fought the overwhelming sense of doom that had descended. I know that an office comprising mainly women should be a comfortable place to work, but I’d never felt like I fitted in. I hadn’t got anyone that I would call a friend and I didn’t know why. It felt different from the other places I’d worked, and I’d been considered asking for a transfer more than once.

I made it to the door. Got a taste of what was to come from the security man. He’d reached for the visitor’s book before he’d realised that it was me. Good old Ted!

The coffee machine was the next pinch-point. Not much chance of getting past that, incognito. My heart sank. Two of them! Chin up, chest out!

‘Hi Emma, welcome back. Love the hair’ Samantha purred insincerely. Alison had the decency not to add her own comment.

‘Thanks. Bit of a change, you know’ I replied, making it clear that I wasn’t stopping for a chat. They were far from my favourite two people in the office.

I endured more comments as the morning wore on. Maybe they were trying to be friendly, but I just wanted them not to notice. The wig didn’t bear close scrutiny and if that was discovered, the truth would out!

The temperature wasn’t as hot as it had been while I’d been away, but it was pleasant enough. Warm enough for me to head out of the office for a sandwich at lunch time. I walked through the office on my way out, as I’ve done many times. Nobody usually pays any attention to me, but this time I got a lingering look from one of the girls as she came out of an office. I smiled back, trying to suppress my inner bitch. If only they knew how much I was keeping inside: break-up with my boyfriend, shaved head, oily wrestling in a paddling pool. I could dine out on that for weeks!

It wasn’t until I’d got to the sandwich shop on the corner, that I realised that Geraldine had followed me. I’d smiled back at her as she’d come out of that office, but had otherwise ignored her. There was no reason to ignore her, she’d never done anything to me, unlike some of them.

‘Sorry, Gerry’ I said, turning towards her. ‘Didn’t mean to be rude. Too wrapped up in my own world!’

‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, but your hair’s crooked’ she said, with a brief glance above my eyeline.

‘Shit’ I said, flustered.

All thoughts of getting something for lunch had disappeared. I turned on my heel and headed out of the door and on to the street. I was aware that Geraldine was right behind me.

‘It’s okay. It’s not that noticeable. I shouldn’t have said.’

‘No, thanks Gerry. None of those other fuckers would’ve had the decency to tell me. They’re probably laughing at me right now.’

‘I’m sure they’re not. Here, let me’ she said, standing in front of me and re-aligning my rug with gentle tweaks here and there.

‘There, no harm done’ she said with a comforting smile.

‘Thanks so much, Gerry and thanks for not asking’

I looked at the growing queue in the shop.

‘Do you fancy going somewhere for something more substantial? My treat’ I offered.

A quick dash to get a sandwich to be eaten at my desk, became a less-hurried trip to a pub for a nice salad and a glass of wine. Gerry was discretion itself, happy to talk about past holidays and general non-specific topics. I knew that I owed her an explanation, but had to wait for my second glass before I could broach the subject.

‘I bet you’re wondering how I went away with hair and came back with a wig?’ I ventured.

‘I’m sure you have your reasons. We’ve all had haircuts that weren’t what we really asked for’ she said.

‘Have you ever considered a career in the diplomatic corps?’ I asked with a smile. I touched her wrist lightly to confirm my wit. It felt so natural, I didn’t give it a second thought, but the tingle it gave me was wholly unexpected. I took my hand away as if burned. Our eyes met.

Her expression had an element of “WTF” and mine must’ve mirrored it. I tried to regain my composure, but then the whole story came tumbling out in a bid to cover my faux-pas. Well, not the whole story. I obviously omitted the bits involving stalking or where I was naked or oiled up or getting fucked by a married couple. That reduced it to the basics of encountering Cheryl in a coffee shop and being offered a free haircut. That made the whole thing sound so innocent.

‘So you’re really bald under that?’ she asked, apparently fascinated by the idea.

‘As a baby’s bum’ I confirmed.

‘Wow! You’re so adventurous.’

If only you knew, I thought.

‘What did Rick think?’

‘Probably best if I don’t go there. He and I aren’t…you know…any more’ I replied.

‘I’m so sorry’ she said, taking her turn to place a consoling hand on mine. There was that tingle again. She didn’t take it away.

I looked at her. Watched her take her hand from mine and run it across the back of her neck, flicking the ends of her dark bob. Was she expressing gratitude that she had hair and I didn’t?

‘I’m not sure that I could’ve done it if I’d been asked’ she continued. ‘Maybe it has something to do with being on holiday. You do things that you wouldn’t normally do at home, don’t you?’

If only she knew exactly what I’d done! I’d reached the ripe old age of thirty one and never been with a woman or had a threesome in a domestic setting. A bit of sun and sangria and I’m taking on all-comers! Except that I’ve been abroad loads and never done that before. It had to have been the state of my relationship with Rick. That and sitting on the beach ruminating on the chances of getting slipped a length by one of the local Lotharios.

I’m not sure why, but I reached up and slid my wig off. Her face was a picture.

‘You’ll have to help me put it back on before we go back’ I said.

She stared at me. I realised my mistake and fiddled with the forlorn wig, trying to orient it to get it back on.

‘No, don’t. You’re beautiful without it’ she said.

It was my turn to stare at her. Had she really just said that? I was conscious of a guy at the bar looking at me intently. Maybe the sight of a woman sliding her hair off would be enough to make him swear off the beer! I went to lift the wig again, but her hand reached for mine to stop me.

‘Please Emma? I’ll help you with it when we leave’ she offered.

‘Really? Everybody’s looking’ I objected.

‘No they’re not. The only ones who are, probably can’t believe how gorgeous you look.’

I’d clearly got a fan.

‘I don’t know what to say’ I said.

She paused and took a breath.

‘You know I’m gay, don’t you? Don’t worry, it’s not contagious’ she laughed. ‘I’d say the same even if I wasn’t. Gay, I mean’ she added.

‘I didn’t know. Why should I?’

‘Some of the others. In the office. They’re not overly-welcoming.’

‘I’m sorry, Gerry. They’re not overly-welcoming to me either, so I wouldn’t say that it has anything to do with what you do in your spare time.’

‘They’re a strange bunch, aren’t they? I thought it was just me.’

‘Not at all. Ignore them. That’s what I do, for the most part.’

I looked at my wine. Maybe we’d had enough. I looked to see if the guy at the bar was still fascinated. He’d gone.

‘We’d better be getting back’ she said, her revelation having stunted the conversation.

‘Probably’ I agreed.

I watched her reach for her bag to get her purse. My hand reached for hers again, in the traditional manner of declining payment, which was now open to misinterpretation.

‘My treat. I meant it’ I said.

‘Thank you.’

‘No, thank you. For telling me about my wig being skewiffed. And you know…’

‘It’s a relief to tell someone, to be honest. I’m not ashamed, it’s just I don’t feel that I can come out and tell anyone else at work.’

‘That means we’ve both got something we’re not willing to share with them’ I said holding up my floppy wig.

‘You look better without it, honest.’

‘Maybe it’s something that I only want to share with certain people’ I replied.

‘If that’s the case, thank you.’

Once Gerry had made sure that I was presentable again, we headed back to the office.

I’m not sure about her, but I did next to nothing all afternoon. Except think about Cheryl. And Tony. And Gerry.

It struck me that Rick was nowhere in that group. He didn’t make one appearance during my reverie. Tony’s appearance was a cameo, however pleasant. A mere sensation of doing me from behind, while I feasted on his wife. That was where the real excitement had lain for me.

I pictured Gerry in the pub. Sitting on the bench seat, turned towards me, her skirt riding up her thigh slightly. I’d no idea that she batted for the other team. As a group of colleagues, we don’t have that much to do with each other socially, or if social activity goes on, I’m not on the guest list. I go into work, do what I have to and go home to Rick. Except that I won’t anymore. I’ll go home to an empty flat. My heart sank at the thought of having to start dating again, resurrecting the search for “Mr Right”. At one point, I’d been sure that Rick was the one, although it had been some time since I’d been certain of that. I definitely wasn’t ready to get back in the game yet, putting up with the clumsy chat-up lines, the fumbling, the groping.

After a while, I woke up my computer and navigated to the “Admin” drive. It took me a few minutes, but I found what I was looking for. The list of emergency contact details for the company’s staff. I scrolled down and found Gerry’s mobile number. I got my phone out and started to type.

“Fancy a drink later?”

I heard a faint ping from elsewhere in the office and hurriedly set my phone to silent to avoid arousing curiosity. I put it on my desk so that I could watch for the reply. I needn’t have bothered. It sat there until home time, mocking me. My first active approach to another woman and I hadn’t even merited a “Not fucking likely”. How stupid was I? She probably had a partner. Why wouldn’t she? She was in her late twenties, nice features, nice figure. Why wouldn’t she have someone? But then, I’m not bad looking, possess decent tits and arse, but was about to go back to an empty flat. I haven’t even got a battery-powered friend to keep me company. Note to self: pick up dildo next time in supermarket. Must be there with the electric toothbrushes, somewhere. I just haven’t noticed before.

I uttered my usual unconvincing “Goodnight” and headed for the door, pleased that my first day back was over.

Once I was in through the front door, I stripped off and headed for the shower. It was actually nice to be able to wander around naked without Rick being there to trip over or pass comment. I was still in holiday mode, where clothes were annoying. I decided that when I got out of the shower, I still wouldn’t put any clothes on. That should excite the old boy in the house across the way!

My face was upturned to let the jet wash over my face and scalp. It was a fabulous feeling and even though I didn’t need to spend the time washing and conditioning my hair, I was still taking just as long in the shower, for precisely that reason. The sensation of the water on my naked scalp was just wonderful.

“Fuck! Stupid cow!” I suddenly thought. I turned the water off. I hadn’t actually put my name on the text to Gerry. She wouldn’t have known who it was from!

I dried off quickly and went to get my phone. I opened the message to confirm my stupidity.

“Gerry. Sorry, that drink invite was from me. Emma” I wrote.

In moments I got a silent reply. I’d forgotten to turn my ringtone back on.

“So you’re my mystery caller. Yes”

I cursed myself again, before exchanging a couple more messages to make arrangements. I said I’d pick her up at home, to save either of us having to wait alone in a bar.

My next dilemma was what to wear. This wasn’t a date. It was just two colleagues having a drink. Nothing else. I dug out a set of Victoria’s Secret that Rick hadn’t had the opportunity to see. His loss. Just add jeans and a shirt. Smart, casual. Perfect for a drink with a colleague. I put the wig on and was on my way.

I rang her doorbell and waited. A single thought was repeating through my head. Just a drink with a colleague. Just a drink with a colleague. Just a drink with a …

The door opened.

‘Hi Emma. Sorry. Not quite ready’ she confessed. The dressing gown confirmed it. I was ushered in. I looked her up and down when she turned her back to me. She’d got tights on. Maybe she had plans to go somewhere a bit more upmarket than my jeans and shirt prepared me for. She offered me a drink when we got to the lounge.

‘I didn’t mean to ignore you. I just didn’t know who that text was from’ she explained. ‘Not that I get many texts like that, of course.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. I thought I was being so clever, getting your number off the emergency contact list.’

‘Never mind. You’re here now. You’ve brought your friend, I see’ she said, offering me my glass of wine.

I was baffled for a moment. She looked closer at my head.

‘Oh, this’ I said, pointing upwards at my wig.

‘I’d hoped that you’d feel more relaxed out of the office’ she said.

‘I’m still not comfortable going out without it’ I confessed.

She took a sip of her wine.

‘I’m not comfortable going out like this, but in here…’ she said, undoing the belt on her dressing gown.

I know it’s rude to stare, but I really wasn’t expecting her to do that. What I’d thought were tights, were actually black stockings. With a garter belt. Nothing else. Oh my God! She had lovely boobs. Her nipples were pierced. Her torso was toned. Her pussy shaved bald. Not so long ago, all I could think about was being stretched out by a monster cock; now all I wanted was softness, feminine curves and caresses.

She came towards me and gently slid my wig off my head.

‘That’s better’ she whispered.

Our faces were close. We weren’t touching. She smiled. My instinct was to kiss her, but she raised a finger to my lips to stall my approach.

‘Later’ she said, slipping the gown off her shoulders, so that it pooled at her feet.

‘You’re beautiful’ I told her, overcoming my surprise at last.

‘I will be’ she replied sultrily.

She took my hand and led me to the kitchen. I still couldn’t believe that I was still in street clothes and she was dressed to seduce. I looked at the stool pulled out from under the breakfast table. Looked at what was arrayed on the tabletop. She squeezed my hand.

‘I want you to shave me’ she said quietly.

‘No, Gerry. It’s a big step. Think about it’ I objected, a quiver in my voice.

‘All I’ve done is think about it, since you took your wig off in the pub. I’ve seen the occasional woman in a club with a buzz or even shaved, but just the fact that you’re straight makes it so much more exciting. I want to share it with you.’

‘I’m not sure that I am straight. I’m not sure what I am. Confused, at best’ I replied.

‘Do it for me. Please?’ she urged, sitting down, her back to me.

‘I don’t know that I can’ I confessed.

‘Just cut it. Then think of it as shaving your legs.’

‘You make it sound so easy.’

I put my hand on the top of her head, resting it there gently and then ran my fingers through her dark hair.

‘You’ve got lovely hair’ I told her, which probably wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

‘I want to be like you’ she said.

‘What’ll they say at work when we’re both bald?’

‘You’ll have your wig’ she countered.

‘What if I don’t? What if I want people to see us?’

That surprised her. She swivelled round to face me. I looked down. Her fingers were undoing the waistband of my jeans. I closed my eyes. I wished that someone would invent jeans that look great when they’re on, but which come off without a fight when you want to undress elegantly for a lover. I battled my way out of them and stood entranced while her fingers traced the pattern on my knickers. Her index finger traced the line of my slit, making me respond with a sharp intake of breath. This was different from when I was with Cheryl. Nothing could’ve been further from my mind when I’d first gone to her salon. This time, I’d known what I wanted. Hoped for it. Didn’t think that it would come so quickly. I unbuttoned my shirt while Gerry trailed her fingers over me.

I took my bra off without her even seeing it. So much for trying to look good for someone, but her focus was further south. Her touch was expert, better than Cheryl’s part-timer touch. She slid my knickers down and I stepped out of them instinctively. I closed my eyes and looked up to the heavens, gasping when her finger slid inside me. I felt a second finger and looked down to see what she was doing. She looked up at me and smiled. I widened my stance to get more comfortable, but took the opportunity to lift the scissors from the table. Her gaze didn’t falter, even as I selected the first tress.

Her fingers were doing wonderful things to me. I closed the blades, looked at the hank of dark hair in my hand and moved to let Gerry could see what I’d just done. I was rewarded with a kiss on my mound, the tip of her tongue flicked at my pussy lips. I wondered about the wisdom of introducing scissors into this tableau, but went for a second cut. I trailed the severed hair as far down her spine as I could safely reach and then went back for more. She licked, I snipped, until I got to the point when I gave her the choice of continuing to do what she was doing or letting me finish properly. She chose the latter.

Her eyes shone. I could see her lips glistening, and it wasn’t from lip gloss.

Much of her hair was ragged now. There was a dark pool of hair lying on the floor around her. I ignored the stroking of my thighs to hack at the remaining tresses, getting it as short as I could, before I switched to the razor. That part worried me. Cheryl had given me some pointers on how best to do it when I needed to, but it was a different matter wielding a razor on someone else’s head. I hoped that she’d got a first aid kit, just in case. I wondered how many professional stylists have ever had their client finger them while they worked.

I took a step back to look at what I’d done.

‘Do you want to see?’ I offered.

‘Not until it’s done’ Gerry replied.

I filled her mixing bowl with warm water and dabbed it over what hair she’d got left. I wasn’t sure whether it would help, but it delayed the moment when I actually had to press blade to skin. I reached for the can of shaving foam and tried to keep everything business-like. It was difficult, because I knew only too well just how much of a thrill it is to have someone massage the foam into your scalp. Maybe it wouldn’t be quite so good for Gerry this time, given the residual hair that she’d got. If there was going to be a next time, I’d get some clippers and she’d get the full benefit. I took a breath and picked up the razor.

I was fine once I’d overcome the initial trepidation. Light strokes, gentle movements and I was on my way. Rather, Gerry was on her way. I marvelled at the pale skin emerging from the darkness of her tufty scalp. Her hair had looked great before I started, not so great at the intermediate stage, but now that I was on the home strait, beauty was emerging. I cast the occasional glance at Gerry, but her eyes were closed and I knew exactly where her mind was. I’d been there and it’s a wonderful place. I just wanted to finish, because she’d done a wonderful job of warming me up and I wanted to see how far she could take me; feel how different it would be with her.

For a moment, my attention was drawn to her eyebrows. They were dark strips marooned in a sea of skin. Islands in an ocean. The sea-scape could be changed in seconds, but the memory of the loss of my own brows intervened. I’d asked Cheryl to take mine off completely, but it had been a shock, even from the halfway-house that she’d already created for me. Drawing them on was a chore and I was already thinking that I’d let Nature replace what I’d sacrificed so casually. It wasn’t my decision to strip Gerry of them and I didn’t want to endanger the mood. I could sense something wonderful was happening and that would be ruined if Gerry freaked out about me taking her eyebrows off without consent. That would need to be a conversation for another time. If there was to be another time. I pushed temptation to one side.

‘There’ I said. ‘All done, I think.’

I helped her rinse off at the sink and returned her to the chair while I dealt with a patch that wasn’t quite as good as it could be. I stood before my first shavee and admired my handiwork.

‘Beautiful’ I pronounced.

She reached up to touch her hairless scalp for the first time. I watched her expression while she marvelled at the difference. It’s one thing to touch someone else’s bald head, but quite another when you touch your own and the realisation dawns that you’ve just transgressed one of society’s norms. Gerry was speechless.

She stood up and reached up to touch my scalp, taking one of my hands in her other hand, guiding it to her own head. We stroked each other, gazing deep into the other’s eyes. We kissed slowly and deeply. It amused me that she’d already kissed my pussy lips before we’d had our first real kiss.

‘You’ve done this before’ she said, breaking away from me.

I shrugged, not wanting to introduce Cheryl into our evening. Gerry held out her hand and led me to her bed. My lasting image from that evening is of lying back on the bed, Gerry’s stocking clad leg swinging over me, her hairless peach lowering towards my face.

It was dawn when I awoke. For a fleeting moment I wondered where I was. The bald head on the pillow next to me brought it all flooding back. I melded my body with Gerry’s, as if to imprint the memory of what we’d done, before I had to leave. She stirred.

‘I’ve got to go’ I said.

‘No, stay with me’ she said.

‘I’ll see you at work.’

She turned to look at me.

‘They’ll know’ she said.

‘You should’ve thought of that’ I said with a smile.

She stroked her bald head.

‘Fuck!’ she said, beaming.

‘Too late now’ I chuckled.

I headed for the kitchen to gather my clothes and got dressed quickly. I went back into the bedroom to tell her I was going.

‘You’re a sexy bitch’ she said as I leant down to kiss her on the cheek.

‘So are you. Now you are, anyway’ I replied, running a playful hand over her scalp. I looked down at her naked body. It was all that I wanted.

I drove home, thinking about last night. Thinking about what was to come. I showered, had breakfast and got ready for work. I had a last look in the mirror to make sure that all looked good and headed for the door. Just as I reached for the handle, I paused. I went back to the mirror. I took my wig off.

There weren’t many people there when I arrived at the office. It was obvious from the sly glances that “bald” was more intriguing than “suspicious wig”. Bald wasn’t really a part of their experience, whereas a change of hair colour wasn’t uncommon and had generated a standard response. I could still hear low-level chatter when I saw Gerry walk in. Then there was silence. My world was about to change. I knew at that moment that my future lay elsewhere. I don’t know where, but I do know who my travelling companion will be.

 

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