The Milestone – Part 2

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Kerry and I were like a couple of teenagers, in bed together whenever we could, groping each other when bed wasn’t an option. She made me forget about men, forget about the stagnation of the last few years. I was appreciated, I was loved, I was fucked silly. I couldn’t have asked for more and I cursed the fact that I’d been so blinkered in the past. I’d missed so much.

She’d caused a stir in the salon by shaving her head, but everyone was positive, staff and clients alike. We got a mixture of curious looks and appreciative looks when we went out, which was always without wigs. She’d brought a few samples home for us to try out, but we both agreed that we wanted to maximise our “skin” time. We’d both had a lifetime with hair and wanted to enjoy not having it, as much as possible.

We hadn’t officially shacked up, but we were spending most of our time together. We knew that the impracticality of trying to live out of two different places would have to come to an end soon, because there were just too many instances of us being in one house, when the thing that we wanted was in the other.

Kerry came back to my house after work, clutching a bottle of wine. It was my turn to cook and I’d made the effort to make us a proper dinner, with no corner-cutting. We both knew what it would lead to.

As soon as she came through the door she’d had a huge smile on her face.

‘What’ I asked.

‘Open this and I’ll tell you’ she said. My mind was racing, my heart was pounding. What was it? We’d been together for less than three weeks, so what was going on?

I opened the bottle and poured a couple of glasses shakily.

Well?’ I asked. We sat at the kitchen table so that I could keep one eye on the stove.

‘Well’ she said, ‘I can only tell you what Sarah told me’. She sat back with a huge grin on her face, knowing how much it would annoy me that she knew and I didn’t.

‘Tell me for fuck’s sake’ I said, my irritation bubbling close to the surface.

‘I’m going to have to be like a narrator in a Greek tragedy’ she said.

‘Be like whoever you want, just tell me’ I urged, not actually knowing what one of those was.

‘Okay’ she agreed. ‘Just imagine that I’m Sarah telling you the story as she told me.’

I sat expectantly. Then she began.

“Sarah’s boyfriend’s name’s Paul, he’s 25. He’s sporty, quite a good footballer by all accounts. Has a good body, without over-doing it in the muscle department. 5’10”. Dark hair, not curly, but it has a bit of a kink in it when it’s wet. I think he works in a bank, but you wouldn’t hold that against him. All in all, he’s a nice lad. He’s picked her up from a couple of our girls’ night outs and he’s always struck me as a good catch for her.

As you can imagine, Sarah was buzzing when she went home after the day that she’d had with the two of us. She couldn’t wait to tell him what she’d done. Except that he’d had a shitty day at work and wasn’t overly receptive to anything other than a cold beer and whatever football was on TV that night. She decided to keep it to herself and took refuge in a hot bath.

Apparently, she realised while she was soaking that it was probably not the best approach just to tell him about us and expect him to fall into line. She decided to bide her time and wait until he started to make comments about needing a haircut before she made her move. That was a couple of weeks away, she guessed.

If we skip forward those couple of weeks, they were going to a friend’s wedding and when he was getting ready, he dropped the first comment about needing to get tidied up. She told him that he was fine as he was and that she’d do it when they got back. She didn’t want him objecting that he couldn’t do what she wanted him to do because he needed to look okay for the wedding photographs. She was grateful that he didn’t say that he needed tidied up for those, so they went to the wedding and have the pictures to prove it.

The day afterwards was Saturday, she made her move.

‘Babe, we can do your hair whenever’ she said as casually as she could.

They agreed to do it when they came back from their weekly trip to the supermarket. As you can imagine, Sarah’s mind wasn’t on what sort of beans to buy.

They came home and put everything away.

‘Right, let’s get you sorted before lunch’ she told him.

He agreed, took his shirt off and flicked through the newspaper while she went to get her hair-cutting stuff. She came back into the room with a towel and an extra equipment case. Usually it was just the case that contained the super-expensive hairdressing scissors that she’d invested in and never left in the salon, but today there was another. It didn’t escape Pauls’ notice, but he didn’t comment on it. She draped the towel over his bare shoulders, fixing it with a clip at the front to stop it from sliding off.

He knew what to expect. He’d sat here for her so many times, always thinking that it was so much better than going to a barber or a unisex place. They tended to get annoyed if you stroked their leg while they worked, but here he could do anything he liked. She’d been topless for one cut not so long ago, but they both agreed that the end result wasn’t as good as it normally was for some reason. She’d ended up re-doing it for him. Once they’d finished screwing, that was.

She sat on the arm of the big chair and looked at him. She ruffled his hair with her right hand.

‘How about we do something different this time?’ she said, deploying her best puppy-dog eyes.


‘Because I want you to. Isn’t that a good enough reason?’

He was quiet for a few moments.

‘I like it like this’ he said.

‘You might like something else too’ she countered.

‘Nothing good has ever come from change’ he said sarcastically.

‘So cynical, for one so young’ she told him with another ruffle his hair.

‘Can’t you just do what you always do?’ he asked.

‘Not this time’ she replied.

‘Why not?’

‘How about if I told you that Kerry did something different with her hair a couple of weeks ago and now she keeps saying that she can’t believe that she stuck with the same style for so long. I think that you should take a leaf out of her book.’

‘You can talk’ he retorted.

‘You’re the one in the chair’ she said.

‘You’ve got me there’ he acknowledged.

‘So, I think it’s time that you got rid of this’ she said, gripping a clump of his hair in her fist.

‘I can’t. That’s what makes me so attractive to women. That and my superbly-honed body’ he said.

‘All the more reason to cut it off then. No woman will ever look at you again and I can have you all to myself’ she said, leaning forward to kiss the top of his head.

‘You’re serious about this, aren’t you?’ he asked.

‘Deadly. You’re not getting out of that chair until I’m happy with the way you look.’

‘So what are you going to do, tie me to it?’

‘I know where you keep the cable ties, so if I have to, I will.’

‘Yes please’ he said.

She stood up and trailed her hand over his torso.

‘Let me do what I want and maybe I’ll let you do what you want. Perhaps silk scarves rather than cable ties, but I can see myself lying there helpless while you have your wicked way with me’ she said in her most vampish voice.

‘I can tie you up and fuck you without getting a haircut, so that’s not much of an incentive, is it?’

‘I think I can make it worth your while’ she said, standing up and patting her jeans-covered backside.

‘As if…’

‘You’ll never know, unless you let me cut your hair.’

‘You can cut it, but do it the way you always do.’

‘Cute, but you know what I mean’ she said. ‘Shall we?’

‘How about you tell me what you’re going to do and I’ll see if I like the sound of it?’

‘I’m going to cut your hair the way that I want and then I’m going to let you fuck me. How does that sound?’

‘I like the second part.’

‘It’s only a second part, if there’s a first part.’

‘Are you really not going to tell me?’

‘Part of the fun is that you just let me do what I want.’

‘This is just routine maintenance. It isn’t meant to be fun’ he objected.

‘I want it to be fun. Kerry started a new relationship purely because she cut her hair.’

‘Maybe I will, too.’

‘Don’t you dare!’ she chided him, launching a playful slap towards his shoulder.

‘You can do it, if you take your jeans off’ he said after a pause.

‘You know that’s not going to work. We’ll get distracted.’

‘By the sounds of it, I need to be distracted’ he countered.

‘Okay, if the jeans come off, you’ll let me do what I want?’

‘Deal’ he said.

Men are so predictable.

Sarah took a long look at Paul, and unzipped her jeans. She locked eyes with him as she eased them down, slowly, as if it was something he’d never seen before.

‘There’ she said as she wriggled them all the way off.

‘Those too’ he said, pointing at her knickers.

‘Save something for later’ she objected.

‘Immediate gratification, that’s what us young people want’ he said with a smirk.

‘I’m younger than you!’ she objected.

‘So you are. Now get’em off.’

‘You have such a way with the ladies, do you know that?’ she said, pretending to be serious. If only he knew what else was coming off very soon. She turned her back in mock-modesty and slid them down. When she turned round, one hand covered what needed to be covered.

‘Take the hand away’ he said impatiently.

‘This hand? This hand is the one that’s going to cut your hair, so do you really want me to take it away?’

‘I’m sure you’d find some way of cutting it with your other hand, so I might at least enjoy the view.’

‘It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.’

‘I know, but I can’t get enough of it’ he replied.

Sarah slid her hand away slowly, revealing her perfectly trimmed pubes. She thought that a covering of manicured pubes added interest “down there”, so she always clipped and shaved them into a perfect triangle with its apex at the top of her slit. Whenever Paul commented on it, she told him that the important bits were shaved and visible, the rest was just decoration. His extensive internet research convinced him that his girlfriend was one of only a handful of young woman on the planet to have pubes of any sort. He often wondered why he couldn’t have what nearly every other man had and just have a bald pussy at his disposal.

‘There! Happy now?’ she said.

‘Not really.’

The reply surprised her. ‘What?’ she asked.

‘You want my hair shorter? I want you to cut that shorter first’ he said, pointing at her lower belly.

‘It’s already as short as it’ll go. I can’t get it any shorter without shaving it’ she told him. He looked at her. ‘No, you know I don’t want to do that’ she protested.

‘And does it look like I’m sitting here looking forward to whatever you’ve got in mind for me?’ he asked.

This wasn’t going quite as it had when she’s played the scenario in her head over recent days.

Sarah reached for the black travel pouch on the table and unzipped it. She brought out her set of clippers and reached for the end of the extension cable that she’d set up earlier while Paul was upstairs. She’d wanted to be ready. She plugged them in and sat down on the arm of the comfy chair again, legs parted.

‘You get what you want. I get what I want?’ she said, positioning the head of the clippers just above the top of her pube stubble.

‘Whatever you’ve got in mind, it’ll be worth it to see that go’ he said. She looked daggers at him.

‘It hasn’t stopped you fucking me, has it?’

‘Maybe not, but I think we’ll both have more fun if it bites the dust’ he said.

‘We’d better’ she said, sliding the switch on the clippers so that they started to hum their song.

She guided them downwards, pressing them to keep them close to the curves of her mound. She usually did it with a guard, which felt slightly different than the bare blades that she was feeling now. It was too late to tell him, but she had thought about doing this as a surprise for him at some point. There’s only so many times that you can listen to appreciative comments about women with bald pussies when you’re watching porn together, without actually grasping that he’d like one of his own to play with. It was probably going to have been a surprise for his birthday, but now she’d have to think of something else.

Paul followed the progress of the clippers with fascination as one side of the triangle was shaved away, to create a lop-sided effect. Now it just looked weird, so he was pleased to see that Sarah didn’t hang about and quickly dealt with the other side of the triangle to leave a narrow rectangle.

‘I quite like that’ she said, brushing her fingertips over the new design.

‘Nooo, make it go away’ Paul pleaded in mock horror.

‘I hope you appreciate the sacrifices that I’m prepared to make for you, my love’ Sarah said, gesturing to put her fingers down her throat. The clippers engulfed the narrow strip and sprinkled the tiny hairs to the floor.

‘Happy now?’ she asked, brushing her fingers across her mound to check for strays.

‘That’s a start’ Paul replied.

‘I’ll do it properly in a bit. How about that?’ she asked.

‘Make sure you do’ Paul replied with his serious, “grown-up” voice as he liked to call it. ‘Come here, let me stroke it, now it’s been shorn’ he said.

Sarah stood up and did as she was told. Paul brushed the skin with the backs of his fingers, moving down lower to appreciate the contrast with the softer skin of Sarah’s shaved lips. He slid a finger into her thigh gap at the precise moment that she slid the clippers across the top of his head. He’d been too pre-occupied with Sarah’s denuded mound to notice that she was still holding the device, but he knew now.

‘Sarah! What the fuuuuuck?’ he protested, a hand going up to protect his hair. He realised that he was too late. ‘Fuck!’ he said again, still not quite believing that she’d done that to him.

‘What the fuck did you do that for?’ he asked.

‘Your language doesn’t get any better does it?’ she said, waving the clippers at him.

‘You’ve just fucking shaved a stripe through my hair. What the fuck do you expect me to say?’

Sarah sat back on the arm of the chair and spread her legs enticingly. ‘I thought you liked things smooth. I know that I do’ she said, bringing the clippers up to kiss the blades as a tease.

‘I told you that I didn’t want to shave my head’ he objected.

‘I told you that I wanted you to. How do we sort that out so that everybody’s happy?’

‘Not like this’ he said.

‘I didn’t want to shave my pussy, but I have, because you asked me to.’

‘Only after I’ve asked you to do it, like, three hundred times.’

‘I was going to do it for your birthday’ she told him, taking the wind out of his sails.


She nodded her reply.

‘Would you have let me shave your head for my birthday?’

‘Did you want me to do it that much?’

‘It would’ve been a memorable gift’ she said.

‘I won’t forget this and I’m sure you won’t either’ he said, with a rueful stroke of the top of his head.

‘So are you going to let me do it properly?’

‘Do I have a choice?’

She peered at his head, not actually being able to see it from her current vantage point. ‘Probably not’ she replied anyway.

Paul sat back in the chair, resignation settling around him.

‘What are they going to say at the club?’ he asked.

‘They’ll probably say that it’s about time. Most of them do it, or something not far from it, so they probably won’t bat an eyelid.’ She held the clippers up and waggled them from side to side.

‘Go on then’ he said.

Sarah didn’t need to be asked twice. She was on her feet and positioning herself behind him, almost before he’s uttered the words.

She widened the strip that she’d created with her first pass and then the clippers chased impatiently down the side of Paul’s head.

Sarah was conscious that she wasn’t taking the sort of care that she would in the salon, but this was for her and no-one else, so it didn’t matter too much. Just shaving Paul’s head was a massive turn-on and she just wanted it done. She’d been mildly excited by shaving that client and her boss, but that was because it was so unusual. This was pure pleasure and hopefully, what she was feeling where it mattered was an indication of what would follow. She couldn’t wait to run her hands over his smooth scalp while he licked her pussy. She’d thought about it so many times, but he’d sounded so reluctant to shave his head whenever she’d asked him that she’d decided that it was probably going to be an ongoing project to get him to even agree to a buzz cut. There was no anticipating the way that things had worked out now and the sacrifice of her “pleasure park” was a small price to pay. It was time for a change anyway and maybe she’d even keep it like that for a while. The question was whether she could bring herself to get it waxed properly. That was something for another day.

Paul’s hair was putting up little resistance. She cleared the patch that always went a bit mad, going over it a couple of times to make sure that it was well and truly gone. She smiled at the thought that he wanted her to cut his hair while half-naked, because she was either behind him or out of his field of vision for much of the time. She could’ve done the whole thing without him actually seeing her, but she’d decided to give him the occasional peek just to keep him interested.

Sarah wondered if she should shave him properly now or wait until later. He was probably more open to suggestion now than he would be later, but she really did want to feel the benefit as soon as she could. She decided to wait and see how things developed. She ran the clippers in different directions just like had been drummed into her at college, except on this occasion the extra passes were for her benefit rather than for any client.

She turned the clippers off and planted a kiss on the top of Paul’s head. Her tongue joined the initial kiss and snaked its way across his hairless scalp. She moved carefully round to be in front of him, eager not to break contact with his scalp. She fumbled the clippers onto the table with an outstretched arm, inhaling deeply when she felt Paul’s fingers searching for moisture. They found warmth and wetness and made themselves at home. She adjusted her stance slightly, half squatting to kiss him properly, whilst not wishing to interrupt what he was doing. The occasion demanded a little filth and she was ready to partake.

She worked around his arms to access his belt. There was no place for trousers in what was about to happen, she decided. He was unbuckled, unfastened, but there was no way that the final part could be accomplished without breaking off from what they were doing. A silent “time-out” was called, allowing him to rid himself of his jeans and her to peel off her sweat-shirt and bra. She looked at him properly for the first time without hair. She wasn’t sure that she liked it.

It would take some getting used to. She ran a finger through her softness, tasting herself while he watched. She dipped again, inviting him to taste her. She placed her hands on his head and straddled him on the chair, allowing him to do the honours. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the signals from her fingertips, urging them to convince her that she’d done the right thing.

She liked not feeling hair, but it would be better when he was properly smooth. She squeezed him with her lips, reassuring him through his cock that all was well. She held him tight, comforting him, and stroked his head to show the appreciation that she didn’t fully feel just yet.

His arms were round her. He’d banged his elbow on the table as he reached round her. They were too close to the table or at least they would be if things got more energetic shortly. She concentrated on the sensation of him inside her, he tried to think of the best way to explain the loss of his hair when he went in to work. Why had she done that? Surely she could’ve just cut it a bit shorter. Did she have to fucking shave it off? She’d made a big deal about not shaving that patch of scrubland that she’d got, even though it irritated his skin to the point that he rarely went down on her. Surely it was a no-brainer to shave it off if it gets you a regular reward? Who’d know, anyway? Only the two of them, so what difference did it make? It wasn’t like she’d got to face questions from all and sundry about what happened to her hair, the way that he was going to have to now. If anyone asked about why she’d shaved her pussy, they’d fully deserve the kicking that he’d give them for touching his bird in the first place, if he found out about it.

How would she like it? The comments, the questions? Are you ill? Why did you do it then?

He reached up and gathered her hair into a ponytail, pulling her head back. He did that to her sometimes and knew that she liked it. Only when he was riding her like a pony though, which always amused him. For some reason, he never bothered to do it when she was on top like this. Too much effort really, just made your arms ache. He pulled a bit harder, hard enough to make her open her eyes. There was defiance there that he hadn’t ever seen before, a steeliness. That deserved a buck of the hips to show her who’s in charge. Her weight subdued the force that he’d wanted to put into the thrust. He’d have to wait until he was more in control. He pulled a bit harder to draw her head back further. She closed her eyes. He watched her expression, watched her settle into the discomfort. This was something that they’d never explored.

He let her hair go and put his arms round her. He was going to stand up with her wrapped around him. Her eyes opened when she felt his legs tensing in preparation for the big lift. He’d seen it done in movies, but never actually tried. He wasn’t sure whether she’d done it with anyone else, but the concerned expression suggested that she hadn’t.

‘Don’t do yourself an injury’ she told him, holding tighter.

He was standing. Next stop “World’s Strongest Man” and he planted his feet to provide support. He’d seen porn films where the protagonists had actively fucked while they were entwined like this. It wasn’t going to happen, not unless he wanted to bring a premature end to his football career. The dining table was a place of safety, although again, not somewhere that he’d used for anything other than eating or doing homework. He positioned Sarah’s backside over the edge so that at least she wouldn’t fall straight to the floor. He eased her back, hearing a squeal when she laid back on to some of her hairdressing kit. He tried to retrieve it from under her without breaking their docking situation. She was looking at him, mildly amused, mildly concerned.

‘I don’t think this is a good idea’ she said. It won’t hold us.’

‘I’m just taking a break’ he replied.

Sarah stroked his scalp. It was her scalp. She’d made it for herself. He pressed into her, looking down on her, trying to work out where they go from here. Her hair was roughly fanned out around her head. His eye caught the open scissors case that he’d just rescued from underneath her. The table creaked. Sarah looked panicked. He got off her and let her get up.

‘Not a good idea’ she repeated. ‘Where do you want me next, since you’re being so inventive?’ she asked.

He put a hand to her shoulder and pressed, the universal signal to tell her to get to her knees and take him in her mouth. She looked up at him to hold his attention while her mouth encircled his cock. He pressed a hand against the back of her head to tell her that half-measures wouldn’t be acceptable. He heard a small gag as she did her best to swallow him. He braced himself against the table with his free hand. His other hand was using her hair to control her movements, drawing her head in and out. It was more face-fucking than blowjob, something seen on his monitor, but not personally experienced. She appeared eager to please, fighting reflexes in order to stay the course.

He looked down on her, field of view restricted to his lower-belly. He looked at the handful of hair that he was holding, looked at the scissors in his other hand. He tried to work out the point at which he’d actually made the cut.

He couldn’t tell what the damage looked like, but there was no getting away from the fact that an awful lot of her hair wasn’t actually attached anymore. She was still working like a trooper. Now probably wasn’t the best time to tell her what had just happened. He put the scissors on the table and passed the severed blonde hair from left hand to right before putting it down next to the scissors. Exhibits “A” and “B”.

With a hand either side of her face, he eased out of her, urging her to all-fours. His favourite position. He knew that she knew, although he’d never told her that it was because he loved the way that her tits swayed with every thrust.

He’d never thought that he’d take advantage of that position to survey accidental damage to her hair though. Most of her hair was long. A section at the back of her head could only dream of being long. It was raggedly cut just above where her collar would be. Could one of her hairdresser friends cover it up, conceal it? He felt a twitch where it mattered when he looked at what he’d done. She’d sounded enthusiastic about her boss getting a new hairstyle, maybe she’d share that enthusiasm. He slid back inside her before any awkward questions were asked. Now he was able to give her the thrust that he’d wanted to give her when she was straddling him. Probably not very sporting, but he withdrew almost the whole way and then banged home. He heard her grunt in surprise. He thought about going for another, but suspected that she might be expecting that. There was something intensely arousing about her not knowing. Not knowing when the next home run was going to come, not knowing that a chunk of her precious hair was lying on the dining table, out of her reach. He looked at the stunted hair, unable to join its fellows in hanging down towards the ground. He reached up.

He’d settled into a gentle rhythm, the recent long-range shot an aberration. She was moving with him, immersed in what was happening. She was thinking about what she’d done, trying to hold on to the picture of him without his familiar hair. Her elbows were getting sore. Surely it wouldn’t be much longer. Her eyes were closed and then open as she drifted from mental image to immediate sensation. She looked downwards at the familiar beige carpet. She’d never been sure that it was the right shade. Maybe they’d change it for something more vibrant. Her hair was brushing her face. She lowered her head for a moment to try to get him to go deeper. He could say what he liked about his haircut, but it’s certainly brought something out. For too long, they’d been screwing by numbers. She knew exactly what he’d do and when. She wasn’t blameless and realised that they’d have to use today as a fresh start. They needed to mix things up, try new things, introduce the unexpected.

Sarah hadn’t expected to see a hank of her hair lying on the carpet.

‘Paul! What have you done?’ she said, her shock clear in her tone.

Another hank fell.

‘Get off me!’ she urged.

‘Bit late for that’ he replied.

He was gripping her round the middle, buried deep within her.

‘It turned you on to cut my hair, so I thought we’d see if it worked like that when I cut yours. Does it?’ Paul asked, pressing inside her.

‘Fuck, Paul’ Sarah said, wanting to explore what he’d done, but unable to, because of his weight pressing down on her.

His pumping was getting more vigorous now. She was trying to think, but rational thought was overwhelmed by the insistent, delicious pounding against her backside. She could feel him driving her forward with each thrust, worried about having to wear trousers or skirts below the knee while her skin healed. She didn’t care. He was getting more and more insistent. She braced for the incoming storm.

She felt him tense, knew that it was over. She didn’t want it to be over.

She unwound his arms from her midriff, looking down at the pooled hair on the carpet. That was too much to conceal, even if she’d been a better hairdresser. She worked her way from under him and stood up. Her hand was exploring the damage, even as she approached the mirror.

‘Fuck!’ Fuck! Fuck!’ she said as she stared at the unkempt reflection that was looking disapprovingly back at her. Her hand was telling her that she wasn’t able to count herself amongst the “long, flowing hair” club any more. She could only aspire to that and it would be a long time before she could renew her membership. She turned to him, not sure what to say. She looked at his bald head. Looked at the clippers in his hand.

‘Oh no, no way!’ she said.

‘I want you to’ he said, turning her own justification against her. She paused.

‘Really?’ she asked.

‘Don’t you think we’d look like a perfect couple?’

An image of Kerry arm-in-arm with Jill came to mind. They were a perfect couple. Bald lesbians, making a statement. She made her own statement with her long blonde hair. She’d never known a guy not like it, right from the one who was her first boyfriend in junior school, through to the guy who took her virginity, through to Paul, who was now brandishing clippers as if it were the most rational thing in the world.

Kerry had had beautiful hair, distinctive curls, but she’d cut it off on a whim. She’d looked striking without her hair, even to those who didn’t lean that way.

‘You like my hair’ she said.

‘I thought I did, but I don’t’ Paul said.

‘But why did you do that?’ she asked.

‘It was an accident. I didn’t even know that I’d cut this bit off. Then, I just thought it was sexy to cut a bit more.’

‘A bit! It’s above my collar’ Sarah objected.

‘Feel’ he said, bending his head and taking a step closer to her.

‘I know what it feels like. I shave people’s heads for a living’ she replied, realising that she’d only done it four times, so it would be a fairly meagre living on its own.

‘You know how good it feels then.’

‘Listen to you, Mr Cry-baby, who wouldn’t let me do it.’

‘You did it and I like it so much that I want you to do it.’

‘You’re just saying that.’

‘No, I’m not. I want to shave you and fuck you.’

‘You’ve just done that. The “fuck” part, I mean’ she replied, pointing down at her reddened knees.

‘Sorry’ he replied, offering to get some cream from the bathroom for her. She nodded, thinking that it would give her some welcome thinking time.

He came back with a selection of tubes and bottles.

‘Couldn’t make up your mind?’ she joked, her mood lightening a little.

‘That’s for your knees’ he said, handing her a tube. ‘These are for me. Well, for you too’ he said mysteriously.

Realisation dawned on her when he spread a dollop of sunscreen on his cock, which responded well.

‘Oh no you don’t’ she said.

What’ he asked, all innocently.

‘You’re not shaving my head and fucking me in the arse too’ she objected.

‘You choose’ he said, having picked up the clippers. He wiggled his hips to make his slick cock jiggle.

‘Some choice’ she responded with a smile. He winked at her. ‘If only I’d known what shaving your head would do to you, I think I’d have put up with you as you were. I’ve let the genie out of its bottle and he’s a horny little devil’ she said with a laugh.

‘That’s me and the cork’s too big to put back in’ he said with another hip wiggle and cock-dance.

‘You really want a bald girlfriend?’

‘You really want a bald boyfriend?’ he retorted.

‘You don’t even know how to use those’ she said.

‘How hard can it be?’

‘Pretty hard, looking at that’ she replied, gesturing towards his rejuvenated cock.

‘Come and get it, if you want it. It won’t last all night’ he said.

‘It isn’t even lunchtime yet’ Sarah objected.

‘You know what I mean’ he replied.

‘My knees are too sore’ Sarah objected.

Paul picked a cushion off the armchair and put it on the floor. He looked at it and added a second.

‘You’re such a gentleman’ she said, moving towards him.

She was looking at the cushions on the floor, but took a seat in the chair that was strewn with the remnants of Paul’s hair.

‘You’d better not gouge me with those’ she said. He bent down and planted a kiss on her bare shoulder.

‘Should I cut this shorter first?’ he asked her.

‘I’m sitting here, but I’m not going to help you’ she replied.

He turned the clippers on, the sound so recent in his mind. She’d gone straight across the top. He’d never seen a barber do that when he got his hair cut. They always started at the neck and worked upwards whenever he’d seen them do it. He looked at the mess that he’d already created and decided that it was a kindness to put it out of its misery. He decided to go his own way and placed he vibrating machine at Sarah’s temple. He watched her eyes close. He moved the clippers upwards, almost feeling guilty at the sight of a tress of blonde hair going in the opposite direction. Not many couples could say that they’d shared this experience. He went for another go, working diagonally up and onto the top of her head. He was fascinated by the ease with which they sliced through her hair, revealing her scalp.

‘That’s probably past the point of no return’ Sarah said.

‘No, I think you could do a sort of comb-over still’ Paul replied.

‘You’re such a dick’ she replied, realising her poor choice of words when Paul stepped in front of her to present her with his.

‘Just say the word my lady, and all this shall be yours’ in his finest upper-class accent.

‘I’m not sure that your aim is true, sire’ she replied regally.

‘That’s a chance you’ll have to take, I’m afraid’ he said, returning to himself.

‘It’s a chance all of us ladies take, but usually there’s a degree of trust’ she said seriously.

‘You can trust me’ he objected.

‘I can’t trust you with scissors though, so why should I trust you with your sword?’

‘We should be on the stage’ Paul replied, wanting to concentrate on what he was doing. There was something about seeing all this hair tumble away that he was finding quite arousing and he wasn’t sure why.

He’d never been out with a girl with hair above her shoulders, so why was he finding the idea of shaving Sarah’s head such a turn-on? They went quiet, only the gentle sound of the clippers coming between them. He was slightly awkward with his approach, but it was effective, nonetheless. Sarah’s hair was mostly on the floor or clinging vainly to her shoulders in a futile bid to avoid falling to the floor. There were a couple of bits that had come to rest on her erect left nipple, emphasising just how aroused she was, despite her shock. He focussed his attention on clearing the random patches that he’d created in his eagerness to get rid of the length. They were like lily pads on a pond, he thought, feeling pastoral for a moment. He looked down at his erection, a crocodile waiting for its opportunity in the calm waters.

‘That’s as good as it gets’ he said, switching the clippers off.

‘Great! I must use that with my clients. “Here you go love, it’s a bit rough, but that’s as good as it gets’ she teased.

‘You know what I mean’ he protested, running a hand over her scalp. It felt so strange. ‘You’re like a man’ he laughed. Wrong thing to say. He heard a sob.

‘Shit! I didn’t mean it like that’ he said, trying to comfort her.

‘Yeah? How did you mean it then?’ she sniffled.

He came round and knelt at her feet, holding her hands in his.

‘It just needs a bit of expert tidying up, then it’ll be fine. Great!, I mean.’

‘I want to see’ she said, getting up and swerving past him to the mirror in the hall. ‘Fuck!’ she said when she got there. He followed her, his heart sinking when he saw her hand pressed to her scalp, saw the reflection of her reddening eyes.

‘I look like a boy’ she sobbed.

Paul knew that he had to do something fast. He held her in a bear-hug.

‘You’re beautiful’ he said, conscious of his erection pressing against her buttocks. ‘I want to fuck you’ he whispered.

‘Why?’ she asked, her eyes still fixed on the hairless reflection in front of her.

‘I told you, you’re beautiful.’

‘You’re just saying that’ she countered, feeling the flat of his hand between her buttocks. His other hand was cupping her right breast, taking its weight, feeling its shape. He pinched the hard nipple. She went with his gentle pushes and moved the few feet to the bottom of the stairs. He was bending her over, so that she needed to put her hands on one of the steps, a few from the bottom. She changed her stance to make things easier for him. She needed him to convince her that he still wanted her, even without her long blonde hair. He was inside her. She raised her head to look as high up the stairs as she could. That way, she could pretend that she still had hair flowing down her back. If she looked down, she was too conscious that she should have been looking down a blonde tunnel. She tried to see the top step, but it hurt her neck. He was stroking her scalp. He felt good inside her. She tried to sense any hesitation, any reluctance, but if anything, he was more eager than he usually was. She looked behind her, trying to see his expression, but couldn’t.

Sarah was concentrating on the sensations that he was sending though her, but was conscious that her arms wouldn’t put up with this for too long. Somehow she doubted that it would be a problem, given Paul’s enthusiasm. She’d been expecting him to go for her arse, but he hadn’t. He’d been dropping hints recently and certainly the sunscreen thing suggested that today was going to be the day.

She’d been willing to put it on the line if it got him to let her shave his head, but he’d had second thoughts. Had he decided that taking her hair was enough for one day? If he had, that would make her love him that little bit more.

It was becoming a struggle to support herself now, but the change in his breathing suggested that he only had seconds to go. She wasn’t wrong and almost crumpled under the final thrust. His head was resting on her back as they both gasped for air.

‘My arms!’ Sarah protested.

‘Sorry’ Paul said, standing up to let Sarah do the same. They looked at each other, touched each other’s bare scalp.

‘Shower’ they said in unison.

They went upstairs to the bathroom, wishing that their cubicle was big enough for them to go in together, but recognising that such Hollywood luxury was probably a few years down the line for them. Paul chivalrously let Sarah go in first, while he caught his breath. He couldn’t help looking in the mirror in the bedroom, just staring at his shorn head. His thoughts flicked to his bald girlfriend. He’d have some explaining to do when they went out. He got bored and went to see what was taking her so long. The answer was obvious: she was shaving her head over the sink. He watched, she shaved. He wasn’t even sure if she knew that he was there. How many of his mates could say that they’d done that?

When she’d finished, she got in the shower and rinsed off. She shouted at him playfully for watching when he could have helped her out, spared her the contortions and the risk of inflicting serious razor cuts, which they both knew were unlikely. She made him sit on the edge of the bath while she shaved him. Twice, just to make sure that re-growth would be as delayed as possible.

He showered, they went to bed for the rest of the day.”

‘And that was all she told me’ Kerry said.

‘Come on’ I challenged. ‘Did she really tell you all that or have you made it up?’

I watched her expression change. Watched her disappointment that I dared to doubt the authenticity of one of the most spectacular incidents ever known in our locality.

‘I may have filled in the odd gap here and there, but most of it is as she told me. Word for word. On my honour’ she said, hand placed on her heart.

‘I’d have believed you, if you hadn’t added that last bit’ I laughed.

‘Ask her yourself then. You won’t believe the change that’s come over her now. She’s bald and brassy. The shy little apprentice has gone. She’d confident and very, very sexy.’

‘Now that last bit really isn’t what I want to hear’ I said with a concerned expression that Kerry probably saw right through.

‘You don’t need to worry on that score. I like my bald women to have a little more worldly experience. Oh, did I say that Paul proposed to her with the ring-pull off a beer can that evening?’

I laughed.

‘No, you certainly didn’t.’

‘Well, he did and she accepted on two conditions.’

I waited.

‘One, he gets her a proper ring as soon as he gets paid.’


‘He keeps his head shaved’ Kerry added.

He agreed to both?’

‘Apparently. Anyway, you can ask her yourself. I’ve booked you in for a shave with her on Tuesday. I just thought that it would be too much for you to take from me. So, any gaps in the story, any bits that I overlooked, Tuesday’s your chance.’

‘I look forward to it’ I said, taking a long swallow from my glass.


















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