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It was obvious that there was some sort of “domestic” going on, over by the changing rooms.

Andy couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, but the tone was enough to tell him that all was not well. It was a shame, because one of the participants in the unsavoury episode was the reason why he was on this floor of the department store in the first place. He’d noticed her downstairs, his “hairdar” having reacted quite forcefully. Her blonde hair was short, not exceptionally so, but shorter than any other “real” woman that he’d encountered in recent times, possibly two inches on the top and less on the sides. She was in her forties, well-proportioned, but obviously not super-model material. Maybe a kid or two in the picture, but the damage hadn’t been major, he thought. Altogether, a good-looking woman, even if she’d have had long hair.

He’d lost her at one point, then picked her up again on the escalator, meaning that she was heading to the only remaining floor. He’d given her a few minutes, not wanting it to look like he was stalking her or anything like that! When he’d eventually got up there, she was in full flow, much to everyone’s embarrassment. The guy that she was with looked of a similar age as her. Well-dressed, in that successful, middle-aged way that some men have. Some sort of executive or other probably. The sort of job that Andy had at one time thought might be his destiny once he’d graduated. Now here he was, exams finished, graduation ceremony imminent and he didn’t know what he wanted to do. He didn’t want to be like that guy, that was for sure. Andy pretended to be looking at a rack of clothes, before realising that it was a rack of maternity wear. He hoped that such shopping would be a good way off for him. The guy grabbed at the woman’s arm, but she shimmied skilfully, leaving him with a handful of sleeve. No-one else seemed to be doing anything, the customary British reserve in evidence.

Andy walked towards them, wondering just how to deal with the situation. He wasn’t small, but he wasn’t a fighter. What happened if this guy turned on him? What would he do? Everything told him to walk the other way. Then he heard himself ask whether everything was okay. The man looked at him sharply. The woman turned more slowly. The guy’s opening gambit was “fuck off”. Andy wished that he’d not noticed the woman downstairs.

‘No need to be like that, I just want to make sure that the lady’s okay’ Andy said trying to sound calm and confident. There ensued a short exchange, at the end of which the man eventually accepted that he might be better cooling off somewhere else.

Andy was left with the tearful woman. Never a good position to be in. He wondered whether it would’ve been better to let the guy hit him, so that other people would’ve got involved and could’ve dealt with the woman. He tried to say things that he thought were soothing, but had no idea if they were or not. It struck him that the woman was actually quite attractive, in the way that some middle aged women can be. He tried not to stare at her hair, for fear of being caught, but did manage to steal the odd glance. The woman was embarrassed and tried to blend in with the surroundings. Andy knew that he should leave her to “pull herself together”, before he actually used that phrase, which rarely turned out well. He’d tried that on a previous girlfriend when she’d been upset. That was why she was a previous girlfriend.

‘Can I get you a coffee or would you rather be on your own?’ he asked, trying to sound soothing.

‘I just want to get away from these people staring at me’ she said.

‘Okay. Try and hide behind me and we’ll walk to the stairs over there’ he suggested. She was still holding a dress, looking bewildered.

‘Here’ he said, taking it from her and draping it over the nearest rail.

He walked her off the floor and down the stairs.

‘I must look frightful’ she said.

‘Not at all’ Andy replied, thinking how sad she looked.

‘Come on’ I’ll buy you a coffee and you can sit and not talk to me while you gather your thoughts.’

‘I don’t want to gather the thoughts that I’ve got right now, they’re not very nice.’

Andy took her arm gently and led her past the people who were coming up the stairs. He noticed how she looked away from them. She allowed herself to be led out of the store and into a coffee shop a few hundred yards away. Andy ordered a couple of teas, thinking that it was simpler than getting into the complexities of coffee. They sat down. They said nothing. He’d picked up a newspaper as he went to the table and wondered whether she’d prefer him to stare into space or read the paper. It struck him that they must look like a mother and son who’d had an argument. There was a vibe in the air that suggested that all was not well. He hated the thought that other people would think him responsible for whatever it was that was wrong.

After a few minutes she broke the silence.

‘Thank you’ she said, looking at him with those sad eyes.

‘You’re welcome. I’m sorry that I’m not very good at this sort of thing.’

‘Not at all. You were the only one who came to see if I was alright. I’m sorry for what Roger said. He’s a dick, but he’s not violent. Not that you were to know that, of course.’

‘He’s your husband?’ Andy asked.

‘No, he’s…he was my boyfriend. I haven’t known him long, but I’m starting to see a different side to him.’

After having being silent for so long, the woman was now in full flow. Telling Andy about how Roger had gone mad when she’d cut her hair recently. He objected to the fact that she’d now got short hair and to the fact that she hadn’t consulted him before she did it. The argument in the shop was about a dress that she’d tried on, that he considered too tight. He didn’t want her flaunting herself for other men. Sounded like a complete charmer. This went on for five minutes or so before she apologised for unloading on him. Most of it didn’t interest him in the slightest, but he really wanted to know more about her cutting her hair. He knew that this wasn’t the time.

She realised that she hadn’t actually introduced herself.

‘I’m so sorry, you’re listening to all of this stuff and I haven’t even told you my name. I’m Nicola’ she said, holding out her hand.

‘Pleased to meet you Nicola, Andy said, pleased that she wouldn’t have been able to see the slight twitch in his jeans as he took her delicate hand in his.

His pleasure was interrupted by a phone beeping, announcing the arrival of a text message. Nicola took out her phone and stared at the screen. She put it down without responding.

‘Roger?’ Andy asked.

‘How did you guess? I really hate it when a man can’t grasp that “I never want to see you again” means that I never want to see him again.

Andy smiled, pleased that there was the slightest trace of a smile on her face too.

He pondered for a moment and then ventured ‘why not tell him that you’ve got someone else?’

‘He’d want to know who it was. He’s very possessive. Not that he’d do anything, he’s all mouth and no trousers really. Just a jerk when he acts like that.’

Andy pondered again for a moment.

‘If he hated the fact that you cut your hair, why not cut it shorter?’ he ventured, feeling the expansion in his jeans and hoping that his voice hadn’t trembled once the words were out, the way that they’d sounded to him.

She chuckled. ‘You’re right, he would hate that, but it’s awfully short already. The stylist was a bit more enthusiastic than I anticipated.’

‘Was it much longer before?’ he asked, concentrating on staying calm.

‘Down to here’ she replied, indicating a point on her upper arm. ‘I decided that I should stop trying to look like a thirty-something and act my age. I told my stylist that it was time to go short and this is what I got. I haven’t got used to it yet.’

‘It suits you’ Andy replied.

‘Thank you. If only Mr Dickhead could’ve said that instead of getting all control-freaky on me. Telling me how to have my hair, how to dress, not to wear anything that shows my figure because I belong to him’ she said.

‘Really? Wow!’ Andy exclaimed, , mildly amused at her using the word “dickhead”.

‘Probably not a good idea for someone that you’ve only just met to tell you that you should cut your hair, then’ he said.

‘There’s a way to do something. Yours was a suggestion, a very scheming suggestion for one so young, if I may say so though.’

‘Two birds with one stone. It would annoy Mr Wrong and you’d look fabulous’ he replied, knowing immediately that he’d overstepped the mark.

She looked at him.

‘You’re a tough one to work out, you know that. You’re obviously not trying to pick me up, because if you were, someone your age would take what he’s given and be grateful for it. You say that I’d look good with shorter hair, but the chances are that we’ll never see each other again, so I’m intrigued.’

Andy was flustered.

‘I graduate in a couple of days and then I’m going back home, so you’re right, I doubt that we will see each other again’ he replied. He could’ve kicked himself for opening his big mouth. If he’d played it a bit cooler, he could’ve got her to tell him about getting her hair cut, why she’d done it, what it made her feel, all that good stuff. Now he’d fucked it up.

‘Have you got a job lined up?’ she asked.

‘No, not yet. A couple of interviews, that’s all.’

The conversation went down this route. Like a student talking to an aunt that he’d not seen for years. Harmless stuff. Andy wanted to get away.

‘I’d better be going’ he said.

‘I’d better just reply to this, then I’ll be going too’ she said. ‘Thank you so much, Andy, for helping me out. I hope I haven’t bored you with all my troubles’ she said. ‘Thanks for the fashion advice too.’

Andy looked at her, puzzled.

‘About my hair’ she clarified with a chuckle.

‘Sorry about that, it was inappropriate.’

‘Don’t worry about it. You’ve no idea how nice it is for someone to take an interest without having an ulterior motive. There’s nothing in it for you, so where’s the harm?’

‘Thank you, I really thought that I’d offended you.’

‘After what you did for me this morning, you’ve got a lot of credit at Bank Nicola’ she said.

‘At least that’s one bank where I’ve got credit’ he chuckled. He reached into his pocket and took out a pen. He reached for a napkin and jotted down his phone number, leaving the napkin where it was.

‘Just in case you feel like letting me know if you got it cut’ he said as he walked away.

He was still annoyed at himself as he walked to the bus stop. Too annoyed to even look in the windows of the various hair salons along the route. At least he’d been able to do his usual inspection of the sales assistants in the perfume department before he’d got dragged into the spat between Nicola and her man. He shuddered as he thought how that could so easily have gone bad.

A couple of days later, his phone rang. He looked at it. Not a number that he knew. Someone to ask him about getting compensation for an accident that he hadn’t had? He answered it anyway.

‘Andy? It’s Nicola’ the voice said. His mind ran through the Rolodex of student friends and acquaintances. No. Nothing. Then suddenly, he remembered.

‘Hi Nicola. Sorry, just had to turn the music down’ he lied.

‘I just wanted to say “Thank you” again for helping me out. Thought you might like to know that Roger has got the message and got himself someone else, with rather indecent haste, I might add. At least, that’s what he said. Anyway, I wondered if you’d let me buy you lunch. I didn’t even pay for the tea the other day.’

‘Don’t worry about that. I don’t need you to thank me again. I did my civic duty, that’s all that anyone would’ve done.’

‘But they didn’t. You were the only one who helped and I didn’t think that I thanked you properly.’

‘It’s fine really, I’m just pleased it’s worked out for you’ he replied.

‘Let me buy you lunch, please? Maybe you could tell me what you think I should do with my hair?’

Andy was stunned.

‘Whatever you like’ he replied.

‘Andy, you can do better than that’ she said.

He wondered if this was a wind up. One of those prank calls. He didn’t want to do it on the phone, even if his hand was now reaching for the zip on his jeans.

‘Wouldn’t it be better if you got a proper consultation?’

‘I’d like to know what you were thinking’ she pressed.

No you wouldn’t, he thought.

‘Okay then, lunch would be very nice, thank you.’

They made arrangements after Andy had mentally checked his busy schedule. It turned out that he had nothing on, so within an hour, he was able to arrive at the restaurant she’d suggested, showered and shaved.

‘You look lovely’ he said when she arrived. Good enough to grace the “MILF” section of the most discerning websites, he thought.

They settled into a table and ordered, waiting for the waitress to take their order before starting their conversation.

‘I’m sorry if I embarrassed you’ she apologised. ‘I won’t mention my hair if you don’t, how about that?’

‘I wasn’t embarrassed, just a little surprised, that’s all, after what you said that Roger was doing, telling you what to do, how to dress.’

‘This is different. ‘You’re not telling, I’m asking.’

‘So I’ll tell you what I think and you’ll ignore it, so there’s not much point, is there.’

‘Who says I’ll ignore what you say.’

‘Because you said that you thought your hair was too short already.’

‘You’ve piqued my interest. Remember that I’m a long-haired girl, always have been, always thought that I would be. My idea of short was probably to my shoulders, it’s just that my stylist had a different interpretation. Now I realise that I need to think differently, so I’m looking for ideas.’

‘You could look in hairdressing magazines’ Andy ventured.

‘True, but I thought that this would be more interesting’ she replied.

The waitress brought their drinks, interrupting the conversation, but gave Andy some time to think.

‘What I think looks good isn’t what many other people think looks good’ he said cryptically.

‘I don’t think you’re that radical. Look at you’ she said, motioning towards him with her hand. ‘Your hair isn’t that short, your clothes are normal student clothes, I don’t think you’re some sort of fashion extremist’ she said.

‘I’m not, but I prefer girls with short hair.’ There he’d said it.

‘Has your girlfriend got short hair?’ she asked. His silence answered the question for her. ‘Did she have short hair?’ she continued.


‘Let me guess. She wouldn’t cut it for you?’

‘Something like that’ he replied after a moment.

‘Poor boy’ she consoled, touching the back of his hand gently.


‘Couple of months’ he replied.

‘The course of young love… and all that’ she replied, taking a sip of her drink. The conversation had stalled.

Nicola revived it again.

‘Can I make a suggestion?’ she asked.

‘Of course’ he replied.

‘Okay. Hear me out’ she said. ‘How about you pick a style for me? With all the drama around my life, I hadn’t given a thought to the fact that your life isn’t where you’d like it to be. You’re young, a student, you should be out there, screwing your brains out, which you probably were until you let the cat out of the bag. You helped me out, so I’d like to do this as a “thank you”, once and for all.’

‘I couldn’t, I don’t know what you’d like’ he replied.

‘I’m not going to offer again. I know that I haven’t got that much hair now, but I’ll have it cut however you wanted your girlfriend to have hers cut, can’t say fairer than that. I’m assuming that you wanted her to have it cut very short, otherwise it won’t work very well, obviously’ she said, running a hand through her short hair to emphasise the point. ‘I’ll even let you take a picture for your wallet, how about that?’

‘What if you don’t like it?’

‘It’ll grow’ she said, pausing while their lunch was served.

‘Honest’ she continued. ‘Tell me how asked your girlfriend to cut her hair and I’ll do it for you.’

Andrew was silent.

‘It was something bad, wasn’t it?’ Nicola asked, a note of caution in her voice.

Andy took a deep breath and confessed: ‘I asked her to shave her head’ he replied sheepishly.

‘Wow. No wonder the girl didn’t stick around. Really?’ Nicola asked. She lost interest in her salad.

‘I misjudged her. She asked me about something she found on my computer and I tried to explain it to her.’

‘So it’s like a hobby of yours?’

‘I don’t know what it is. I like women with very short hair.’

‘Or no hair’ Nicola added.

Andy nodded, similarly disinterested in his lunch. He nodded.

‘And short hair is your “thing”? Better than porn, I suppose’ she said. She looked at him. ‘I’m not judging you. We all have our little foibles. If it makes you feel any better, I have a thing for a certain well-known footballer.’

Andy smiled.

‘You’re just saying that’ he replied.

‘It’s true’ she giggled. ‘What I wouldn’t give for a night with him and his friends’ she smiled. ‘Now, come on, eat up.’ she urged.

Nicola made conversation on topics that had nothing to do with hair, much to Andy’s relief. He just wanted to go home and close the door.

‘Do you want coffee?’ Nicola asked when the waitress appeared to clear their plates.

‘No thanks’ Andy replied.

‘That’s good, neither do I’ she replied.

After Nicola had paid, they went outside. Andy trailed along as Nicola walked to her car, trying to formulate the right sort of goodbye. He was embarrassed, not quite to the extent that he had been when Caitlin had found his private folder. That had brought his world crashing down and the fear that she’d tell everyone what she’d found had given him sleepless nights for a week. She’d still thought enough of him to promise that it would stay between them, for which Andy would be eternally grateful. Now he’d been undone once again by his secret coming out of the shadows and he resolved that it would have to stay on the sidelines in future. Any attempt to share it with someone else was just doomed to failure, even though he’d read on various blogs that there were people who were able to share their interest with their significant other. It was too much of a risk.

They reached what was clearly Nicola’s car.

‘Nice’ Andy said.

‘Generous ex-husband’ she said. He remembered that he hadn’t actually asked her about the reason for her being single and dating idiots like Roger. He hadn’t even asked about whatever kids she had.

She turned to him.

‘So, young Andy, what are we going to do about the elephant in your room?’ she asked, placing her handbag on the car roof.

‘It was a nice lunch, thank you, but I need to be going’ he replied.

‘Not so quick young man. I don’t go back on my word, although it may take me a couple of attempts to get there’ she said.

‘Really, I need to go’ Andy said, a sense of panic setting in.

‘Okay. I’ll drop you wherever you need to be in such a hurry. Hop in’ she urged.

‘I’d rather walk, if that’s okay’ he replied.

‘Your loss’ she said, opening the door. She put her bag inside and started to get in. ‘Just before I go, I don’t suppose you know a good place where I can get my hair cut, do you?’

He looked at her. ‘There’s no need to tease me’ he said, wanting to be anywhere, but where he was.

‘I’m not teasing you. I can’t promise that I’ll go all the way, but I’m going for a haircut. You’re welcome to join me’ she said, getting in. Andy watched her shut the door. His mind span in the time that she got her seatbelt fastened. The sound of the engine brought him back to the present. The window wound down.

‘Good luck with your job hunting Andy. Thanks for everything’ she called across the passenger seat.

‘Wait’ Andy exclaimed. He bent down so that he could see her. ‘There is somewhere’ he ventured.

Nicola looked at him. ‘Get in then’ she urged.

Andy got in the car and looked across at her. She patted him on the knee.

‘Look Andy. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You like something that other people might find kinky. I’d say that it’s pretty harmless considering some of the things that you see and hear about. Would it make you feel more at ease if I tell you that I like to watch porn? Especially with lesbians. Nothing remarkable about that, but you don’t expect someone that you barely know to tell you that she’s never happier than when she’s got a glass of wine in one hand, diddling herself with the other, while watching a couple of girls getting to know each other better. Now will you stop being so coy and enjoy yourself.’

‘There’s not a lot you can say to that, is there?’ Andy observed.

‘Now you know that we both enjoy watching videos, let’s go’ she said.

She looked at him. ‘Well?’ she asked.

‘Sorry, head for King Street. There’s a salon there that might be okay.’

‘Is that where you go?’

‘No, it’s only just opened, but I’ve been past a few times.’

‘Let me guess, just checking it out?’

‘Maybe. I’m fairly choosy about where I go.’

‘So what do you look for?’

‘I don’t like a man to cut my hair. There’s something not right about that. Other than that, I’m happy with a pleasant lady stylist.’

‘Attractive, of course.’

‘It always helps’ Andy chuckled.

‘And what happens if I want a male stylist?’

‘Hadn’t thought about that, sorry.’

‘I’m not bothered to tell you the truth. I’ve had both. Come to think of it, it was a guy who did this, so maybe I should use a woman. There’s always the possibility of getting a real-life rug muncher to make things interesting’ she laughed and then apologised for a non-PC observation. After an obvious thoughtful moment she continued.’That figures…not much on top, so nothing down below. Am I right? No wonder that poor girl ran a mile’ she chuckled. Andy blushed.

Silence descended again for a few minutes.

‘How do you know that the stylist of your dreams is in this place?’

‘I’ve not seen a male stylist in there so far?’

‘On your many scouting missions…’

‘I walk a lot’ Andy retorted.

‘Okay, how about a quick drive-by, to see how the land lies?’

Andy peered out of the window as they approached. He couldn’t see anyone waiting. Couldn’t see anyone in the chairs, although he wasn’t sure. They were driving too quickly.

‘Couldn’t really see’ he said.

‘Looks like we’ll have to chance it then’ she said, lining up on a parking space.

Nicola turned off the engine and undid her seat belt.

‘How are we going to do this?’ she asked, turning towards him.

‘I’m not sure what it is that we’re doing. Not sure if we’re doing anything. It was you who said you wanted to get your hair cut.’

‘Careful, young man. Disappointment is perilously close. We need to work this out before I come to my senses. Now, you think I should cut my hair. I suspect that you would like to watch said operation. How does that work? We just wander in there and say that I want a haircut and you want to watch. What are you, my son?’

‘No, I might want to go there again.’

‘And you’re embarrassed to tell them that you’re getting your hair cut with your mother, is that it?’

‘No, I’d just rather not say anything.’

‘Okay, so we walk in there together, apparently not knowing each other and you just happen to stand and watch me get my haircut. Not going to work.’

They were silent for a second.

‘You’re going to have to get yours cut, you know that, don’t you?’ Nicola said, reaching up to tousle Andy’s hair. It wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either.

‘I still don’t see how we can walk in together.’

‘We can’t. We’ll pretend that we don’t know each other, that way we don’t have to make up a story or anything. I’ll go in first. You wait a few minutes and then come in. If there’s only one stylist, you’ve got no option but to wait and watch. If there’s two, you’ll just have to make the best of it.’

‘Makes sense’ Andy nodded, surprised at her willingness to make the whole thing work.

Nicola opened the door and then looked across at Andy.

You’re going to have to walk round the block for a bit. And I’m not promising anything. I’m having my hair cut, but don’t get your hopes up. It’s not that easy, you know.’

‘You don’t have to do this’ Andy said.

‘This is for me, just so that you know’ she replied, pausing while Andy got out of the car. She locked it and then studiously ignored him, striding across the street towards the salon. Andy put his hands in his pockets and turned on his heel, wondering how long to wait, what to do when he got in there and how he was going to explain a major haircut just before his graduation. No one would recognise him in his photos.

Nicola could see through the glass door that there were no customers. There wasn’t any sign of life either. She opened the door and heard a little buzzer go off, alerting whoever was there to the arrival of a customer.

‘Be right with you’ a voice called out. Nicola stood at the reception desk and smiled at the figure appearing from the door at the side of the salon. The woman was probably about thirty, slim, quite pretty, with short, dark hair that was split by a stripe of electric blue.

‘Hi, what can I do for you?’ she asked, a welcoming smile still apparent.

‘I was wondering if you could fit me in for a cut?’ Nicola asked.

‘No problem, come on through’ the stylist said. She introduced herself as Becky.

There was a quick exchange of pleasantries as Becky made sure that Nicola was comfortably gowned in a styling chair.

‘Now, what can I do for you?’ she asked.

‘I went short a few Weeks ago and I’ve been thinking that I should have been a bit braver’ Nicola said. She watched Becky nod her agreement.

‘How long was it before?’

Nicola touched her finger to her arm as she’d done with Andy.

‘That’s quite a change all at once’ Becky said. ‘What do you have in mind now?’

‘I was hoping that getting it cut would make a big difference to the time that it takes to get ready, but it hasn’t, to be honest. I still take ages to get it looking respectable. I was just hoping for something that would let me get out of the shower and just go, pretty much.’

‘Okay, we can certainly do that.’ Becky ran her hands through Nicola’s hair, in that way that hairdressers do when they use their superpowers to divine texture and quality.

She drew Nicola’s hair to its full two inches or so on top, letting it go, toying with it.

‘I can certainly take a bit of the length off, texture it, persuade it to behave itself, that sort of thing’ she suggested.

‘I was thinking that you’d probably need to cut a good bit off’ Nicola suggested.

‘Not necessarily.’

‘Wouldn’t that be better though?’ Nicola suggested.

‘Sounds to me like you’ve made up your mind’ Becky chuckled.

‘I’m afraid of looking butch, otherwise I’d say just take the lot off’ Nicola said, enjoying the frisson that coursed through her as she said it. She’d told Andy not to expect too much, but here she was putting ideas into the girl’s head.

Becky took a step back and looked at Nicola, looking pensive.

‘You could certainly get away with going super-short. You’ve got the face for it’ she said.

‘So what do you think?’ Nicola asked.

‘Your decision. I can do a lovely little crop, but it would still need time for you to style it. If you want to get away from that, we can take it right down on the top and close in at the sides.’

‘And you’re sure that won’t make me look butch.’

‘Not at all. It would be dramatic, but it’d really suit you.’

‘What do you think?’ Nicola asked. She didn’t want to seem too eager to go for the more dramatic option. Partly because she wasn’t convinced that it would actually suit her and partly because she found it a little exciting to see the stylist’s own uncertainty. At the back of her mind was also the fact that she was single once again and didn’t really want to be. She knew that she was narrowing down the pool of potential suitors with whatever she did in the next few minutes.

‘You need to be happy with your choice, you’re the one who matters. I can do either.’

‘You wouldn’t recommend against going really short though?’

‘Like I said, you’ve got the face for it.’ It looked like she was about to continue when the door opened. Nicola really hoped that it was Andy. ‘Excuse me just a moment, would you’ Becky said and headed for reception.

Nicola heard Andy’s voice. ‘I’d like a haircut please’ he said. Matter of fact, economical. She liked that, rather than having to spend five minutes or more discussing options as she had just done.

The stylist told Andy that it would be half an hour or more before she could do his hair.

‘Okay, I’ll wait’ he said cheerily. Andy sat down, relieved to see that the action hadn’t started. He thought how beautiful Nicola looked in that bright blue cape, sitting at the styling station, helpless, expectant. He wondered what was going though her mind. What had she told the stylist to do?

Nicola could see Becky approaching.

‘Now where were we?’ Becky asked.

‘You were about to shear me like a sheep’ Nicola said.

‘Not at all. I only do that to customers that I don’t like’ she said with that little chuckle of hers. ‘Have you had a think about what you’d like. Shall we start with the crop and then see whether you want to stop there?’

‘If you do that, I’ll probably only go through the same process again, wishing I’d gone shorter.’

‘Okay, that’s my sexy little crop suggestion out of the window’ she said.

‘You said the other option would look good though’ Nicola reminded her.

‘Of course’ she replied, reaching across to open the drawer in the next styling station. ‘I don’t want to frighten you, but I’m going to use these. They make it easier to get the cut even’ she said.

‘They’re men’s clippers?’ Nicola queried, trying to sound all innocent.

‘They’re yours now’ Becky countered gently. ‘They’re not specially for men, I have a few ladies who like to go really short’ she said.


‘You’re not a pioneer by any means’ Becky replied.

‘You do surprise me’ Nicola replied.

Becky picked up the clippers and rummaged through the drawer looking for the guards that she intended to use. ‘At least with these, that young man won’t be waiting so long’ she said, pausing to fit a guard. ‘Now, short or very short?’ Becky asked.

‘You decide’ Nicola replied stoically. She so hoped that it wouldn’t look bad. She tipped her head forward at Becky’s touch and felt the clippers touch her neck. Whatever guard that she’d chosen had apparently been the one that she intended to use all along. Nicola felt the clippers moving up the back of her head. She wondered what Andy thought. Had he expected her to actually do this or had she been too accommodating. It would be a real kicker if he’d just been having her on. It was too late now though. The clippers were exploring right up the back of her head, strip after strip. Did it look okay, she wondered. Becky’s light touch re-positioned Nicola’s head and the clippers made contact with the side of her head. Nicola could see in the mirror now, see herself being shorn. It wasn’t terribly short, but the machine probably wasn’t leaving more than half an inch. Becky broke contact with the clippers.

‘Still want to go for it?’ Becky asked.

‘May as well’ Nicola answered.

The clippers didn’t need to be asked twice. They were at her forehead and driving backwards across the top of her head. Oh God, Nicola thought. She wondered what Andy thought. Was he hard? Of course he was.

Becky went over and over Nicola’s head with the clippers, reducing her hair to a uniform length and then switched them off.

‘That’s what you look like without the expensive hair cut’ she said, selecting another guard and fitting it in a practised motion. Nicola’s head was tilted down again and the clippers were making their way up her neck before she’d had a chance to contemplate what Becky had said. She was right, there would be no fancy salons for her for a while now. She actually liked Becky, liked the way that she didn’t chat about inanities, just got on with the job in hand. Nicola did wonder what that job would do to her though.

The previous path was re-trodden, with Nicola’s hair taken to a uniform length once more. Nicola looked in the mirror, stunned, when the clippers fell silent.

‘Christ! That’s short!’ she exclaimed.

‘That’s as short as I’m taking the top. I’ll take the sides in closer and then that’ll be the new, adventurous you’ she said.

Nicola watched, amazed once more. Watched what was bristles on the sides of her head become little more than stubble. Who would have thought that she’d ever do something like this? Particularly when her hair was well past her shoulders at the start of the month. Here she was at the end of the month, scalped. There was nothing for her to do but to watch Becky work, blending in the two different lengths, making the edges just right. The clippers fell silent, Becky stood upright.

‘Well, what do you think?’ Becky asked.

Nicola stared at herself.

‘What guard was that?’ she asked.

‘Two for the top and one for the sides’ she replied.

Nicola was looking at herself from various angles.

‘I can see skin’ she observed. ‘I had a boyfriend many years ago who had a number one. Never thought I’d be sitting here with the same thing’ she chuckled.

‘I bet he didn’t look as good as you though’ Becky said.

Andy was transfixed. He wouldn’t have believed that she’d do it. He was pretending to read a car magazine, but he’d seen everything. He just wished that he’s been able to film it. At least he’d be able to get a closer look, unlike some of the women that he’d seen on the street. The only thing that was taking the edge off the experience was the thought that his folks were coming tomorrow for his graduation. There’d be photographs. Pictures for posterity. He couldn’t have pictures of him that didn’t look like the way everyone knew him. He watched Nicola being led to a wash basin to get the bits rinsed out. He looked across at the stylist getting Nicola comfortable. Neither of them were looking at him. He got up and left the salon, trying to close the door as quietly as he could.

He hoped that Nicola would forgive him, but he just couldn’t do it. Becky had noticed him going, but didn’t think too much of it. People got bored, changed their minds, got a text message, that sort of thing. She quite fancied a cup of tea anyway, before the after-school rush.

She washed Nicola’s hair slowly. To her, it was the best part of a visit to the hairdresser’s. She often wondered if any of her customers got as turned on by a slow wash as she did. For her, a salon hairwash was the prelude to an energetic session in bed. She wondered if this woman would get lucky when she got home. What would her husband think about what she’d done? It suited her, but even so, it was a bold look and a big change if the woman’s hair was as long as she’d said it was only a few weeks ago. Maybe she shouldn’t have used the number two quite so soon, should’ve made really sure first? The woman seemed to be up for it and certainly didn’t seem annoyed. She finished rinsing the woman off and brought the towel up.

‘Now, quick rub and you’re done’ Becky said.

Nicola wondered if the stylist knew just how close to the truth she was. She wondered if there was somewhere nearby that she could do what she had to do.

It was only as she walked back to the styling station that Nicola realised that Andy wasn’t there anymore. When did he go? She could hardly ask the stylist though.

Nicola watched as the stylist wafted the hairdryer over her head, spreading warmth to add to the glow that she was already feeling. The dryer went quiet, Becky did a final examination to make sure that her work was to her satisfaction. She stood back.

Nicola examined the finished article. herself with hardly any hair. It looked better than she’d feared, but God, was it short! It wasn’t that far from what Andy had asked his girlfriend to do, but it seemed like a big step to take. It wasn’t one that was going to be taken today though. Maybe if Andy had stayed she might have thought about it a bit more, but the little bugger had run away, so that was as much as she was going to do. She thanked Becky and left, Becky’s card safely secreted in her handbag.

She thought about calling Andy, but then decided just to head for her car. She needed to get home.

Just as she was about to put her key in the lock, she heard footsteps approaching rapidly. She turned to see Andy.

‘Nicky, I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it. I’ve got my graduation. Photos and everything.’ He was babbling.

‘I hate being called Nicky’ she said, getting in to the car. She could see him heading round to the passenger side and fired up the engine. He reached for the handle. It was locked. She smiled in gratitude at the safety features of her car and drove away.

Nicola got home. She rushed upstairs. She did what needed to be done. It was something that she had to do for herself, even though she had a willing young man who would have done it for her. When she’d finished she lay on the bed, breathless, thinking about how she’d gone from unremarkable middle-aged woman to shorn vamp in a matter of weeks. She wondered what her kids would say if they could see her now. Thankfully it would be a few weeks before they were back from university, but what difference would that make, really. She wondered about Andy and decided that she’d been a bit harsh with him. He should’ve stayed with her, but she did understand about his dilemma. She’d make it up to him.

A couple of days later, Nicola sent Andy a text to congratulate him on his graduation. An hour or so later, a carefully worded reply apologised for leaving her in the salon. She smiled and texted an invitation to meet for lunch.

Andy wasn’t fully recovered from his graduation, but he made the effort to try to look respectable, putting on his best jeans and a shirt. He’d been surprised to hear from Nicola because he thought that he’d blown it with her. He’d actually been wondering how to check on her new look without knowing where she lived. He’d thought about spending more time in the department store, but that was a long shot. She’d looked so angry when they’d had that little exchange at her car. Was she angry about her hair? He hadn’t heard her object in the salon, but maybe the stylist should’ve gone more gradually. That stylist was definitely top of his list of favourite stylists. Attractive and bold with the clippers.

He made his way to where Nicola had said that they should meet and had been there about five minutes when he saw her car draw up alongside him.

He stooped to look at the driver. It was Nicola, looking fabulous with her barely-there hair. Well, it wasn’t quite as short as that, but it must seem like it to her, he thought. He opened the door and got in.

‘Hi’ he said breezily. ‘I’m sorry about…’ he said before she cut him off.

‘See that salon on the corner?’ she asked.


‘You’ve got an appointment there in about two minutes

‘What?’ he managed to stammer, wondering what was going on.

‘Ask the nice lady to shave your head for you and then I’ll let you open your graduation present’ she instructed.

‘Where will you be?’

‘Ring me when you’re done. I’ll pick you up’ she said. He looked at her. ‘Hurry up. You don’t want to be late’ she urged.

He looked at her again. What was going on?

‘You’ve got 25 yards to decide if you want to see me again’ she said, reaching across him to open the door. He got out, slamming the door behind him. He walked towards the corner, his head full of all manner of things. True, he’d gone to the salon with her. He’d been prepared to get a clipper cut until he’d thought of the potential problems with parents and graduation photos. His parents had gone home, the pictures had been taken. She’d asked him to do something that he’d often fantasised about but never actually thought that he’d do. He was worried about what he’d look like, what people would say. Exactly the same as the three girls that he’d asked to do it. They’d run a mile, but he’d still thought that there was a chance that they’d do it. He’d reached the row of shops. The salon was the last one. Was he really going in? Why did she want him to do it? To get a taste of his own medicine? Would he do it? She’d said that she wouldn’t meet him again if he didn’t. He hadn’t actually had time to look at her at leisure with her short hair. Would she let him stroke it if he did this? His young imagination started to run wild, until he was interrupted by the receptionist. He hadn’t even been aware that he’d opened the door and gone in.

‘Hello’ she said warmly. ‘What can we do for you?’

‘I’ve got an appointment to get my hair cut’ he said.

‘That’s lucky. That’s what we do here’ she said with a smile. ‘Andy, is it?’ she said looking at the bookings on screen.

‘Yes, that’s right’ he replied.

‘Okay, follow me and I’ll take you through’ she said.

Andy was so hoping that she’d tell him that there was no appointment, then he could go and laugh about it with Nicola, tell her how she’s really got him. Instead, he was following this girl, too anxious to appreciate the curves of her backside as she walked.

She helped him into a gown and showed him where to sit while she went to fetch his stylist. His head was still spinning. Would Nicola let him get away with a buzzcut? She’d said “shave” or he wouldn’t see her again. He wanted to see her again. He didn’t want to shave his head.

‘Hi there’ a breezy voice greeted from behind him. ‘I’m Vicky’ the voice said.

‘Hi’ Andy said, any potential chat being strangled in his throat.

‘So, we’re taking all this off are we? An end of school celebration, your mum said’ she commented, a question in her voice. Andy thought that she was struggling to believe what she’d been asked to do. He felt awkward that Nicola had obviously gone into detail.

‘Something like that.’

‘Don’t worry, it won’t hurt’ she said.

He watched her pick up some clippers.

‘Head down for me’ she said.

‘But, shouldn’t we talk about what I want?

‘You are the head shave, aren’t you? I haven’t got you mixed up with someone else?’

‘Yes, no’ he replied. ‘I mean I’m booked for a head shave, and no you haven’t got me mixed up, but I thought we could discuss it first’ he said nervously.

‘You’ll be fine’ she said, nudging his head downwards with the flat of her hand. He felt the clippers run up the back of his head. Up high. Then they went again, higher still, if anything. A couple more of those and he saw them approach his temple. Up and over they went, not quite to the middle of his scalp, but not far off. He saw skin. Not even stubble. Fucking skin. She’d really done it?

‘I didn’t think you’d go for it, straight off like that’ he exclaimed.

‘I find it’s the best way. Like pulling a plaster off. Just do it.’

‘Well, you’ve certainly done that’ he said, with a nervous chuckle. He looked at himself, more and more of his hair tumbling. This girl certainly didn’t mess around. He’d been to this salon before, but he’d never seen her before.

‘You’re new here, aren’t you?’ he asked, trying to take his mind off what she was doing to him. He was also painfully aware that his cock wasn’t in the best of positions. It had got trapped uncomfortably in his underwear somehow. He’d got a semi and it wasn’t the best feeling. He dreaded to think what it would look like when she took the gown off him.

‘I’ve been here a couple of months. I don’t remember seeing you though.’

‘I haven’t been for a while’ he replied.

‘You won’t need to again for a bit, unless you’re going to keep it shaved’ she replied.

‘I suppose’ he replied, non-committally. He settled back to watch her remove the last vestiges of his hair. He was bald. He’d never thought that he’d actually do it. He’d calmed down enough to enjoy the sight of her bending over to get something out of the cupboard under the next styling station. Nice. He’d like to see her do that without the jeans. He wondered whether she’d got a boyfriend. Wondered what she’d look like without that blonde hair. Wondered what she’d look like kneeling in front of him.

He heard the squirt. Should’ve expected it, but it still surprised him.

‘That’s okay, you don’t need to do that’ he said.

‘I couldn’t let you out only half done. I need to finish you off’ she said. Did she really just say that? It was enough to let her smear the shaving cream over his scalp and repeating her words over and over in his head eased the shock of having his head shaved to the bone. Just for good measure, she did it again. ‘I find once is never enough’ she’d told him. If his cock hadn’t been twisted, that may just have been enough to make him cream, he thought.

She rinsed his head once she’d finished the second shave, her fingers dancing over his scalp while she rinsed the last traces of shaving cream from his scalp. She led him back to the styling station to let him look at himself.

‘Pleased you did it?’ she asked, a quick stroke of his head confirming that her work was done.

‘I think so’ he replied.

‘You will be once you get used to it. I do my boyfriend’s for him. Wouldn’t have him any other way. Come and see me in a few days and I’ll do you again for free’ she said breezily.

He thanked her and paid, stealing a final glance at himself without hair before he left the salon. He pulled his phone out, ready to call Nicola, when he heard a car horn beep quickly. She’d managed to park just down from the salon. He headed towards her car, uncertain. Would she laugh at him and drive off?

He got as far as opening the door and was about to get in when he saw a small, gift-wrapped box on the seat. He reached in and picked it up, handing it to her as he sat.

‘It’s yours. Your graduation present’ she said, not remarking on his new look. He turned it around in his hands.

‘You didn’t need to buy me anything’ he said.

‘Who said that I bought you anything?’ she replied, starting the car.

‘Thank you’ he said as she started to drive.

‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, course. I just wondered where we were going.’

‘Open your present, there’s a good lad’ she replied, with a pat on his thigh.

He undid the ribbon and took off the paper. It was one of those fancy cardboard boxes that you get in card shops. He eased the lid off.

‘Do you like it?’ she asked.

He looked down at the open box. It had a clear plastic bag inside. It looked like a bag of horse hair. Dark blonde horse hair.

‘Thank you. I think’ he said, hoping that he wouldn’t say the wrong thing. ‘Is this what I think it is?’

‘Let’s just say that you’re holding one of the last full bushes known to modern man. Not something I’ve done before. Add it to your collection anyway.’

Andy didn’t know what to say. He was holding a box filled with this woman’s pubes. A woman that he barely knew.

He was so distracted that he hadn’t noticed her pull the car onto a driveway outside a house.

‘Coming in?’ she asked. He looked around, taking in her surroundings.

‘I thought we were going for lunch’ he said.

‘Change of plan’ she replied

As soon as the front door was closed, she reached up to touch his bare scalp.

‘Do you hate me?’

‘No’ he replied. moving to look at himself in the hall mirror.

‘Do you hate me?’ he asked in turn.

‘I think you’ve got strange tastes, but as my little present shows, I’m starting to get an appreciation for what you like.’

‘That really is yours in that box?’

She nodded. ‘Not sure why I’ve never done it before. It’s not really something you do for yourself though, is it?. Too much hassle, but let’s say that it’s invigorating.’

Andy pressed his hand to her mound through her dress, fascinated at the way his hand moulded itself to her curves. She raised her eyebrows.

‘That’s a bit forward, isn’t it?’ she asked with a smile.

He nodded and dropped to his knees, pushing the hem of her dress upwards as he descended. One hand held the dress in place, the other tugged down her knickers, revealing the source of his present. She wasn’t lying. The harvest was total, every trace of hair had gone. He pressed his tongue into her cleft, pleased that she altered her stance to make things easier for him. His tongue burrowed, seeking to give her maximum pleasure. She sighed. ‘I daren’t ask where you learned to do that’ she said appreciatively. He licked and flicked at her with his tongue, exploring her glistening folds.

Nicola was glad that she had the wall to lean back against, otherwise she would have struggled to stay upright. She half-stood, half-crouched, her knees bent with Andy lapping at her for all he was worth. She had no idea how long he’d been working away, but he’d brought her to a shuddering climax. Her legs trembled, she stifled a cry, held his shaven head firmly between her hands as the waves rolled over her. She couldn’t remember cumming with that intensity, ever. She looked down to see him grinning up at her, his face bearing the evidence of what he’d just done. She held out a hand to help him to his feet, leaning in to taste herself on his lips as he drew level with her face.

‘You’re a very naughty boy!’ she chastised.

She felt his hand on the back of her head. Not so long ago, he would’ve been able to get a handful of hair. Now he was only able to give her a firm stroke, rubbing his hand against the burr of her shorn nape.

‘Do you like your hair?’ he asked her.

‘Mmm’ she replied.

He ran his hand firmly over her scalp.

‘Are you going to shave your head the way you shaved your cunt?’ he whispered.

‘Do you want me to?’ she asked, a little shocked at his coarse language, even though he’d just spent fifteen minutes licking her.

‘Do it for you, not for me’ he said.

He pulled her head forward so that she was starting to bend at the waist. With a deft movement, he was behind her, pressing against her while guiding her a couple of steps forward. She could feel his erection through their clothes and then realised what he was doing. She allowed herself to go forward, coming to rest with her arms locked, hands resting on the stairs. He lifted the hem of her dress, exposing her. She felt fingers slide into her and then felt him enter her properly.

‘Have you got anything?’ she gasped.

‘It’s okay’ he said.

He was thrusting hard, balls slapping against her. She didn’t care anymore, but felt cheated when after a few more thrusts he pulled out and she felt him jet across her back. In normal circumstances, she’d have bemoaned the lack of saying power, but given that this had been building up since he was in the chair getting his head shaved, and he’d brought her to a magnificent climax with his tongue, she’d forgive him this time.

She stood up, trying to get her dress off without letting it slide into the cum slick that went up her body from her backside.

He followed her to the guest room for a shower. He tried to get an indication of signs of habitation as he walked the corridor. He wanted to know more about her, but there wasn’t much on display. There was no evidence of a man, which was good. Obviously the dick from the store hadn’t actually made inroads into her sanctuary. She showed him where everything was and left him to it, heading off for her own shower. He leaned into the jets, feeling the water bounce off his bald head. He couldn’t believe that he’d actually done it at last or that it had yielded such dividends. He liked Nicola and didn’t actually have her down for someone so adventurous. There was clearly more to her than met the eye. He wondered if she’d always been that adventurous. He thought about her getting her long hair cut. That took some guts. To go to where she was now, that clipper cut, took guts too. He was just annoyed that he’d cum so soon, but then he had spent so long licking her that she didn’t seem to mind. He wondered if there’d be another chance or whether she was going to realise her folly and show him the door. He guessed that he was of a similar age as her own kids and that would really mess with your head.

After his shower, he put his jeans and shirt back on and headed for the sounds coming from the kitchen, sounds of coffee being made.

‘Look at me, I can shower faster than a guy! she said with a little laugh. He did look at her, standing there in a short gown that wasn’t completely fastened at the front. Although he’d licked her and fucked her, he hadn’t actually seen her fully naked yet. His eyes lingered on her chest, trying to catch a glimpse of bare boobs.

She saw where he was looking.

‘For God’s sake, here you go’ she said, parting the gown to give him an uninterrupted view. ‘I think I can cope with showing you my tits after what you’ve just done to me’ she laughed.

‘Nice’ he said economically.

She pushed a cup of coffee across the counter to him, followed by the milk jug.

‘Why did you want me to shave my head?’ Andy asked.

She looked serious for a moment, which was difficult when she was essentially naked.

‘I wanted you to understand what you’re asking other people to do. It’s easier for a guy to get away with it, but I wanted you to have at least experienced the trepidation of doing it and the looks you get from people who only know you with hair’ she explained.

His eye caught sight of the scissors, razor and can of shaving foam next to the sink.

‘Is that for what I think it’s for?’ he asked

‘No, probably not’ she replied. He looked puzzled.

‘Another lesson for you. You might be used to seeing women with no pubes on your computer, but it’s a chore, it’s asking a woman to bare herself to the world. Call me old fashioned, but you shouldn’t take it for granted. So mister, get those jeans off and let me give you a deeper understanding of your flippant request’ she said, looking towards the implements.

Andy unzipped his jeans and let them fall to the floor.

‘Best that we do this while he’s not loaded, don’t you think?’ she said, approaching Andy’s groin with the scissors and a towel. She gripped a clump of pubes between her fingers and unceremoniously hacked them off. She followed with clump after clump, until Andy’s pubes were ragged and shorn.

While she cut, she took the opportunity to set out the ground rules of their relationship.

‘Firstly, we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever such terms you want to refer to us as. We have a shared interest that may or may not lead to us having sex. No more no less.’

‘Secondly’ she started, putting the scissors down and reaching for the shaving foam ‘Don’t use the “c” word. I don’t like it’ she said, smearing the foam around his groin. She was manipulating his cock like a joystick, feeling it respond to what was going on. ‘Looks like we may have to hurry’ she observed.

‘Thirdly: if either of us stops enjoying this, it ends. Whatever this is’ she added. ‘Agreed?’

‘Sounds reasonable’ he agreed, looking down to see his pubes being scraped away. He watched her work, watched himself harden as she manipulated his cock and balls.

‘Feels like I’m working against the clock here’ she commented, thankfully maintaining her focus on what she was doing. After a couple of minutes, she eased back, examined what she’d done and then kissed the tip of his cock.

‘That’s better’ she said, standing up.

‘Looks plain weird to me’ Andy said.

‘And you think it’s different for a woman to see herself hairless?’

‘No’ he said, a touch defensively. ‘But you must agree that you look better without your bag of pubes’ he said, regaining his composure.

‘Maybe I’ll grow them again so that you can compare the with and without look’ she said.

‘Please, not that’ he said mockingly.

‘We’ll see. Anyway, go and rinse yourself off.’

Andy headed for the bathroom that was still steamy from his first shower. He looked down at the freshly shaved skin at his groin and wondered why he hadn’t done it for himself before. The water hit him, he soaped around his cock slowly, enjoying the sensation of his fingers sliding unimpeded across the bare skin. He felt himself get hard, but didn’t want to waste it on himself. He rinsed off and got out of the cubicle. He dried himself quickly and went back downstairs wearing just his shirt, his erection leading the way.

He walked into the kitchen, his eyes lighting immediately on the small plastic bag on the counter that contained his pubes. He smiled at Nicola.

‘One for your collection?’ he asked.

‘Maybe’ she replied.

He walked over to her, watching her expression as her eyes fixed on his hairless groin.

‘Much better’ she said, reaching out to grip him. She looked at him and then sank to her knees, taking him in her mouth. Andy rubbed his hands across her scalp, hearing her sigh appreciatively.

‘You look great with your hair like this’ he said. ‘Do you like it?’ he asked. She made a positive sound, unwilling to talk with her mouth full. She looked up at him, her lips locked around his cock and then went back to work. He took his hands away for a second and then stroked her head again. She noticed the slightly different sensation and looked upwards again. His hands were white. Shaving cream, she realised. They were by the counter where she’d left the stuff that she’d used to shave his pubes.

She eased back from him.

‘No, please Andy, you said you liked it like this’ she said, a hint of panic in her voice. She liked her new look, wanted to get used to it, enjoy it, experiment a bit.

‘I do, but you need to do this’ he said. She saw him pick up the razor. She looked up at him and watched the razor approach. She felt her eyes moisten and wondered if it was because she was meant to be sad at the loss of her hair. She wasn’t sure that she was sad as such, she had just wanted to keep her expertly cut look for a little bit longer. She knew that it wasn’t just her eyes that were becoming moist and moved a hand between her legs.

Andy paused to rinse the razor in the sink and then went back to work at her temple. It wasn’t quite as easy as he’d hoped, maybe the hair was too long and he should’ve got some clippers. That was the problem with spontaneity though, you weren’t always best prepared. He decided that he would persevere and even if he didn’t get it finished, he’d get to the point where the only option was for Nicola to shave it completely. He was distracted by her sucking him. Not the best blowjob that he’d ever had, but certainly better than he’d expected from a middle-aged housewife. Maybe he should’ve left her hair, but after the way that she’d started to lay the law down to him with her rules, he was afraid that she’s end whatever it was that they had before he had the chance. He’d let her grow it out.

Andy could see that he was making progress, but there was no way that he could do it while she was sucking him. That was taking multi-tasking that bit too far. He got Nicola to stop what she was doing and to sit on a kitchen chair, which was clearly more comfortable for both of them. He worked slowly and methodically, concentrating on trying to stop his excitement at what he was doing from making his hand shake. Concentrating on shaving a real live woman’s head had consequences for his self-control in other areas, so he tried to tell himself that it was just an ordinary, day to day task. He wanted the second time to last a bit longer than the first, if there was to be a second go.

Nicola had resigned herself to what was happening. She’d really liked the way that Becky had cut her hair. She’d felt confident, vibrant, sexy. So much better than when it had been long and supposedly more feminine. Maybe it had something to do with the break from Roger, but she’d just felt so much more alive with her hair like that. It made a statement and now it was all but gone. This had been a possibility of course, but she hadn’t intended to do it for a good while, if at all. She was thinking that she’d just let Becky do what she wanted each time she went to the salon and if she’d suggested a full shave, Nicola would’ve gone along with it. What was the difference between that and what was happening now, she asked herself. Her hand between her legs for one thing. Having an erection to look at while it was being done was another.

Andy was taking his time, being careful not to cut her. She was grateful for that, and was so pleased when he finally pronounced himself done. She watched him admiring his work and wondered if she dared look at herself. Andy put the razor down and she walked into the hall to look in the mirror.

‘Oh God!’ she said, a hand to her mouth as she stared. Andy moved to stand behind her, his arms around her waist. Her hand went reluctantly to her scalp. fingers almost afraid to touch the bare skin. Andy put his chin on her shoulder and looked at her. He’d done it. His first shave.

‘You look beautiful’ he told her.

‘You’d better keep telling me that’ she said, responding to his hands on her breasts, his lips nuzzling her neck. She braced herself against the wall, one hand either side of the mirror. She knew what was coming. Andy slid the gown off her shoulders and eased into her. She gasped with delight at the sensation of him sliding in to her. She wanted to close her eyes, but she kept them fixed on her reflection, taking in her every expression of her first fuck as a bald woman. Andy was less hurried than the first time, slow, measured strokes going in deep.

‘If only Roger could see me now’ she said.

‘We could always make a little film for him’ Andy said, pushing home a bit more firmly this time.

‘Don’t even think about filming me. I’d die if my daughters ever saw me like this.’

‘Bald, you mean?’

‘Doing it’ she said, pushing back against him.’

‘You’re not “doing it”, you’re getting fucked. Say it’ Andy said, his breath shorter now.

‘I’m getting fucked’ she agreed.

‘You’re bald and getting fucked’ he said.

‘I’m bald and getting fucked and I love it’ she exclaimed.

Andy started to pump harder. Nicola was worried that the mirror might bounce off its mounting, but the fear eased as Andy guided her down onto all fours. Her breasts swung as he pounded into her. She angled her backside up as much as she could without getting carpet burns on her chin and then he was out, urgently pulling her to her knees. He pushed her head gently so that she was looking down at the floor and then she felt it. Felt the warmth on her scalp, heard him make that little noise that men make. She looked up at him, taking the tip of his cock in her mouth. He smeared his cum over her scalp.

She eased back from him, freeing his wilting cock.

‘You’ve no idea how annoyed I’d have been if you’d done that a month ago’ she smiled.

‘That’s the great thing about being bald’ Andy said ‘you can just wipe the cum right off.’

‘You’re disgusting, do you know that?’

‘You’re beautiful, do you know that?’ he countered.

‘Keep it coming’ she said, getting up off her knees. She saw him raise his eyebrows.

‘You know what I mean’ she laughed. He hugged her.

‘Maybe one day, we’ll get as far as a bed’ she said, squeezing him tightly. She reached down to pick up her gown and headed for the shower.

It was her turn to savour the sensation of warm water jetting on to a freshly-shaven head. She lingered, running her hands over her head, boobs, everywhere. She was still getting used to her hair-free pussy and now here she was without a trace of hair on her head. She decided that it was the reason for having two hands. It was the longest and most enjoyable shower that she could remember, even taking into account the odd occasion that she had shared the cubicle with a man.

She turned the water off and left the cubicle to get dry. She watched herself in the steamy mirror, looked at her head from various angles. She loved the way that it felt, but it would take time to get used to the way that she looked now. Those few millimetres of hair had made all the difference. She wiped the mirror with the towel and stood there, assessing herself. The familiar Nicola had gone. It was a new Nicola that was looking back at her. This one looked more confident with nothing to hide behind. She looked at her eyes, her cheekbones that looked more prominent somehow. Her eyes lingered on the full boobs that had weathered a couple kids better than could have been expected. The same went for her belly. It was pretty good for someone of her age, not flat, but pleasantly curved thanks to swimming and Zumba classes. Her gaze moved further, stopping at her mound. The once-hidden slope, was on full view now, split by her ripe lips. She looked sexier than she had before, she felt sexier than she had done for a long time. Who could have guessed that a visit to an over-enthusiastic hairstylist would lead her to Becky and all of this in a roundabout way.

Nicola got dressed and went downstairs, hoping that Andy hadn’t got bored. He hadn’t. He’d gone. A note in the kitchen said simply “You’re beautiful”.

In a way, Nicola was pleased to be alone. She cleared up, smiling when she realised that Andy had taken the bag of his pubes. She poured a glass of wine and went to the lounge to relax and ponder.

She wondered about going out to get a wig. Wondered what she should tell people. No one that she knew had seen her bald, so maybe she could pretend that it hadn’t happened and that she was still a respectable middle-aged woman. She heard her phone ping and got up. There were two mirrors between where she was and where she’d left her phone. She looked in both of them, still not quite believing that they were showing her what she looked like. The reflection was still strange, too exotic to be her. She looked at her phone. It was a text from Erin, her eldest daughter. Nineteen. At university. Shacked up with her boyfriend. She wanted to come home for a visit. Wanted to check that it was okay with Nicola and Roger.

Nicola returned to the sofa. What was she going to do? She couldn’t say that Erin couldn’t come. What could she say? Should she say anything?

She tapped out her reply. “Roger didn’t work out. I’d love to see you. Let me know about food. xxx” she texted.

Her phone pinged again.

“R u sad?” Nicola read. All that money spent on education and she got texts like that, she thought.


“Good. Didn’t like him” came the reply.

“Thanks” Nicola texted back.

Erin hadn’t said when she was coming. Whether she’d need a meal. Nicola texted her again.

“When? Food?” she wrote. She was about to hit ‘Send’ when she thought she’d better add something. “Got my hair cut” she added.

“Again? Break-up chop?” came the reply.


“It was short b4.”

“Shorter now.”

“Like it?”

“It’s different. Didn’t want to shock you.”

“Ur single. Do what u want.”

“Thanks for reminding me” Nicola typed guiltily. Andy was another confession, for another time.

“Didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.”

The exchange petered out, with Nicola still none the wiser about eating arrangements. She took a big slug of wine and started to text again.

“Thanks for today. Hope you had as much fun as me.”

The reply came a couple of minutes later.

“Best day of my life. U r beautiful.”

She stared at it and ran a hand over her scalp. For Nicola, nothing could ever be as momentous as having her daughters. As far as other events go, today was up there with them. She wouldn’t ever forget what she’d done and suspected that she would come to regard the whole thing as one of the most momentous of her life. Her phone pinged again. It was Erin.

“No preview pic?”

“It would spoil the surprise” Nicola replied.

“Can’t be that bad?”

Nicola drained her glass. She scoured her phone for the camera that she so seldom used and took a deep breath. Rising to the challenge of sending the picture to Erin, she poured another drink, realising that she hadn’t actually eaten since breakfast. While she was in the kitchen, her phone pinged. Judgement was in. She wanted to know what it said, but at the same time didn’t. She couldn’t bear it if Erin said anything nasty. She took her toast back to the lounge and looked at her phone. She couldn’t eat until she knew. She opened the text.

“Really? Bald?” Nicola read, her heart sinking. She read the rest. “My mums a badass!”

Nicola frowned at the missing apostrophe.

“Badass? Is that good?” she texted back.

“You look so hot.”

“Hot? Is that good?” she typed, knowing how much it would annoy Erin.

“U look great. Understand?”

“Thanks love. I needed that.”

“U must tell me all abt it on sat” Erin texted.

“xxxx” Nicola replied.

The relief was immense. She abandoned the idea of buying a wig. If she’d got Erin’s seal of approval, that was all that mattered. Her phone pinged again. She looked at it. Jenny. Number two daughter wanting to know if it was true. It was going to be a long evening.

4 responses to “Understanding

  1. Rayzur,
    I have been a fan of yours for a long time now. I just wanted to thank you, on behalf of all the readers of this site, for the consistently well written, and always interesting, stories you write. Although we both have slightly different writing styles and interests, it appears we have a few things in common as well. One of those, I believe, is character development. You write in such a way that the reader rather quickly gets to know, and care, about your characters. I also appreciate that your stories are all uniquely different … not just another take on someone walking into a hair salon and talking to the barber, or stylist. Well done Rayzur!

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