Valentine’s Weekend

It’d been almost a year and a half since Denise first had all of her gorgeous, highlighted brown hair chopped off, sheared away from a waist-length fall into short, sideswept style with a clippered nape and shorn sides. It hadn’t been very long after that when Derek the Hot Dork in her chem lab had noticed her. Soon after that he’d asked her out, and things grew serious quickly.

She’d always wondered whether those two events were linked, but she never felt the need to ask because she didn’t really care. All she knew was that there confluence led her here, to this moment, standing in the well-appointed ladies room of a very high-class restaurant in center city checking her reflection in a gold-embossed mirror among a handful of other women doing the same.

She still couldn’t believe she was a short-haired girl. Even after going super, super short last winter, her mind’s eye always pictured herself with long, flowing locks when she closed her eyes. She could still hear the fawning compliments her tresses always received, could still feel her romantic targets’ breathless desire caused by a simple toss of her mane or a tuck of the shiny locks behind her ear.

Would she ever be able to do that again? There was a time when she’d never have considered not being able to do it; but now… she wasn’t sure she ever would again.

She ran her fingers back through her soft, silky, dark chocolate locks, sweeping their relatively impressive lengths back from her hazel eyes before they all swept forward again to hide her elegant, arching eyebrows and to tease her thick, long lashes. Her fingers rested the crown of her head, slowing against the wealth of her thick mane before finally breaking free to slip down the back of her neck, caressing a nape that was no longer clippered short.

She shook her hair out, fluffing and playing with it before finally pulling her hands away. Her right eye was curtained by the thick, glossy locks, as were the tips of her ears, though those locks were slightly more timid about it, being just a few inches long.

“You’re really making me want to chop all of my hair off,” the young woman next to her admitted.

Denise smiled as she glanced at the massive bundle of auburn locks, piled as they were into a deceptively casual bun that probably took the better part of an hour to style. “Thank you,” she said, sweeping her hands back to return some order to the short locks teasing her ears. “I can’t recommend it enough, honestly.” She twisted so she could point to a spot just above the waist of her slinky red dress. “It was down to here when I had it chopped last year, and I haven’t looked back.”

The woman smiled, a beautiful expression that emphasized her petite features and tiny, adorable chin. “I don’t have the guts, unfortunately.”

Denise made a noncommittal sound as she picked up her clutch and started toward the door. “Just remember – what a person lacks in guts, they can make up for in alcohol. I think you’d look great.”

Derek caught her eye as she wound her way back to their table, and she made no secret of increasing the sway of her hips as she walked, even slowing down her pace to give him more time to appreciate it. He stood up as she approached, buttoning the suit jacket that might have been a bit too small for him across his chest in the best way before taking up her shawl and allowing her to spin around and back into it. His lips brushed against the tip of her left ear as he placed the shimmery cloth across her bare shoulders, and with a whisper he asked if she was ready.

She assumed he meant ‘ready to leave,’ but part of her wondered whether he actually meant ‘ready for what’s next.’ All in all, though, they were probably one in the same.

And, either way, she was.

“Yup.”

Like dance partners that had been together for decades, they slipped around each other and turned toward the door, her arm hooked in his as he thanked the maitre’ D and led her out. The night was brisk, providing more than enough of an excuse for her to curl into Derek’s side as they walked, his arm wrapped around her shoulders to encourage her to come a bit closer. Her head was able to rest against his shoulder, letting his lips nuzzle against her breeze-blown hair.

“Hard to believe it’s only been a year,” she said.

“Well, a bit longer than that,” he corrected.

“Your dork is showing.”

“Sorry.”

She smiled, patting his chest and letting her hand slide down, cursing that suit jacket for hiding the abs that never failed to surprise her for existing on such a nerd. After a quick surveillance of the city street to make sure they were alone, she let her hand drop a little further. The night chill couldn’t prevent her cheeks from warming, especially after Derek straightened in surprise and hurriedly looked around.

Denise laughed, caressing him once or twice before lifting her hand back to his chest. “Are you sure you’re gonna make it through the main event?”

He cleared his throat and swallowed, his cheeks turning bright red under the streetlights. “Well… not now.”

She pulled his lips down to hers as they reached the swanky hotel where his older brother had helped them secure a room for the night. After teasing his tongue with her own, she whispered, “Maybe we should fit a shower in first, just to take the edge off?”

“I’m not sure the water could get cold enough to have an effect, Gorgeous,” he asked.

She smiled. “Actually, I was thinking the exact opposite.” Tugging on the lapels of his coat, she let her hips press against his and looked into his eyes. “You’re still young enough for a quick recovery, right?”

“I don’t think that’ll ever be a problem with you around.”

***

The shower in their suite was beautiful, decorated with marble and stone and all sorts of refinements Denise couldn’t name, but, like all showers, it was cold. Still, Derek, as with everything, was generous and thoughtful and made sure she was as warm as possible, even when pinning her against the tiled walls as she wrapped her legs around him and sought to tame the eagerness and anticipation that had built within him.

She’d asked him to shave afterward, pretending to feel stubble that wasn’t there just so she could have a moment in the bedroom by herself, a moment to make sure she truly wanted to give him the Valentine’s/Anniversary gift she had promised.

Wrapped in a terrycloth robe, she fluffed her freshly dried hair so it fell into her eyes again. She loved how it looked short, and she loved how she looked with it short, but there was no denying – no matter how conceited it made her appear – that it was a gorgeous mane meant to flourish so it could be flaunted. In a matter of months, maybe by the time she graduated into the real world in May, she could have a short, stylish bob again. And with the way her hair grew, a substantial ponytail would follow maybe a year after that, and within two years people wouldn’t be able to remember a time when she didn’t have a crowning glory worthy of a bard’s tune or two – even if it’d take two or three more for her to have her fairytale princess locks back again.

But if she did that, Derek would always have that one unsatisfied curiosity – one she had to admit had become a curiosity of her own after talking to him about it. And if there was ever one final, perfect time to indulge such a curiosity, it was right now, with three months or so before she would no longer have the excuse of being a crazy college kid. Chewing on her bottom lip, she stood in front of the vanity across from the bed and unzipped the small package she had placed there when they checked in, revealing the new battery-operated clipper set that had been Derek’s Christmas gift. She knew how it felt to have clippers run up her nape and around her ears, but not across her–

In the reflection of the mirror, Derek came out of the bathroom wearing a simple towel around his waist. He mate her gaze with his own as he came up behind her, setting his razor and shaving cream down so her could wrap his arms around her waist as he kissed and nuzzled her neck. She closed her eyes, running her hands up and down his arms as his lips explored her further, teasing her earlobe as she pressed herself back against him.

She felt her robes loosen, felt the soft skin of his hands brush against her stomach before sliding down, his fingers nestling into her dark curls and then into her, eliciting a surprised gasp as he held her tightly. She gently rubbed her backside against him, fighting an internal struggle regarding whether she should jump into the metaphorical cold lake before her or delay it with another round of lovemaking.

In the end, the desire to avoid chickening out won. “Should we get started?” she asked.

Derek rumbled quietly, nipping at her earlobe before smiling. “Promise me you’re sure about this?”

She pressed her lips to his at an awkward angle. “Absolutely,” she assured him. Reaching for the clippers, she was surprised by just how heavy they felt. Passing them over her shoulder, she nuzzled her forehead against his cheek and added, “And it’s literally now or never, because I’m not going to let you do this when I’m trying to get a real job.”

Derek nodded, placing a few more kisses along her neck before taking the clippers from her. She wasn’t sure how to read his expression, but his bloodflow seemed to be having some kind of debate about whether he should blush or become deathly pale. He took a deep breath, and then smiled at her reflection as he picked up the number one blade and snapped it on. “Do we need a safeword or anything?”

“How about, ‘ohmyfuckinggodstopnownonowhydidIeveragreetothis?”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “That will certainly do the trick.”

She laughed, then chewed her bottom lip. “I love you.”

He settled down, holding her reflection’s gaze for a few seconds before giving that adorably cute little grin and saying, “I love you, too.” With a flourish, he popped the clippers to life.

It was a little odd to coordinate with Derek’s reflection, but Denise managed to tilt her head the correct way – to her left – on the first try as the clippers were gently pressed to her cheek. Although the feeling wasn’t anything new, the end result would be and her heart started racing because of that. She took a calming breath, briefly closed her eyes, and when he shyly asked, “Ready?,”… she nodded.

The clippers started their trek upward, tickling and tingling against her cheek before their tone changed, the hum growing louder as the tiny comb slipped beneath her carefully sculpted forelock, churring happily as the soft length was shorn away. The clippers kept moving upward, purring almost all the way up her temple before Derek pulled them away, letting a small tuft of dark brown hair fall to the floor next to her. The shorn path left behind was startlingly different than the months of overgrown locks surrounding the rest of her ear; a tiny patch of velvet that let her pale skin peek through.

As Derek watched, wary of a panicked reaction, Denise fidgeted her robe off of her shoulders, letting it fall until caught by the elbows of her crossed arms. “I want to feel it against my skin,” she explained. His grin returned, slightly devilish across his angelic features, and she found herself wishing she were brazen enough to tease herself in front of him. Instead, she simply gave an encouraging, “Go on…”

And so he did, pressing the clippers to her head again and slowly sliding them up around her ear, dropping the shorn locks they gathered down so they brushed against her shoulders as they fell, each caress a soft, subtle goodbye for the next few months.

She’d had her ears clippered naked and bare before, that was nothing new, but the curious, gentle caresses that followed the hungry clippers, the teasing, nervous nibbles on her ear after each pass was absolutely something new to her – new and unbelievably welcome. Derek’s warm breath brushed against her neck as his hand silently, requested her to lean forward with gentle pressure against her crown. She listened to the rhythm of his breathing, brushed her backside against the reaction of his body and reveled in both being exactly what she had hoped for.

The clippers greeted her nape with a slow hello, pausing at the base of her neck before starting upward, removing the near-mullet-like lengths that she had grown in preparation for this night. Their rumble grew louder as they rose, and the shorn locks drifting down past Denise’s shoulders and gathering against her back inside the folds of her robe grew heavier. Again and again Derek repeated the clipper’s rise, pausing from time and time to nuzzle his nose against the soft, velvet of what remained.

His kisses against her clippered nape elicited a firm push back against his stiffening cock, and what was meant to be a quiet moan on Denise’s part came out as an anguished gasp of delight. She didn’t want to rush the boy through his fantasy, but holy fuck she wanted him inside her again, and she couldn’t help but start to wriggle against his chest and abs as his right arm held her in place.

She knew she might cause him to mess up; that something could go horribly wrong is she kept grinding against him, but… did that really matter at this point? Her hair’s fate had been sealed, especially now as the clippers continued their work around the left side of her way, baring another perfect little ear to a relentless series of attacks and nips and licks.

It was only after her left temple had been so brutally attended to, left bare save for an eighth of an inch of her once Rapunzel-like locks, that she opened her eyes and looked at her reflection. “Jesus… that’s not bad,” she said with a smile. She turned her head this way and that, taking in the visage of herself with a brutally short undercut beneath the half-foot or so of shiny, silky tresses that threatened to hide her eyes.

“You couldn’t possibly look bad.”

“I think we’re about to put that to the test.”

His expression slipped from being devilishly horny to good-boy concerned. “We can st–”

“Don’t even think about it,” she asserted, bumping herself back against his erection and laughing softly.

He groaned, and took a moment to steady himself before moving close again. “As you wish.”

This time, Denise kept her eyes open as Derek wrapped his arms around her and lifted the clippers to what was once the spot where she parted her hair on the left. Maybe it still was, at this second, but the complete lack of any significant length beneath that spot had her wondering whether it’d be considered so.

Then the clippers started moving back, and that line of thought ended. Denise breathed in deeply as the long, soft locks that had been resting against her forehead started to rise up against Derek’s hand and then fall away. They felt heavy against her shoulder as they fell, gathering in piles along her lowered robe – not in piles of shorn clippings, but full-on desecrated locks.

She tried to imagine thinking this would be a possibility two years ago, when she was still the girl with the beautiful long hair – the girl everyone who knew her would think of when they heard nothing more than the phrase, “that girl with the great hair” – and yet the clippers just kept moving, again and again trailing back from her forehead to her crown. The soft fuzz left behind looked ridiculous next to the longer locks, and Denise found herself reaching back, reaching for Derek for some assurance that he still found her attractive. Her fingers explored, finding her answer as he moaned softly and paused the clippers midstroke.

He must have read her expression, because he nuzzled close to her left ear – her bare, naked, exposed left ear – and whispered, “You are so fucking gorgeous,” before pressing his full weight against her and shuddering in time with her. With his free hand he tugged her robe free and let it drop to the floor, cupping her chin in his left hand as he started working quickly, now from back to front, shearing away the few bits of her glorious mane that could still be considered actual ‘locks.’

She shivered as she suddenly saw herself, naked and shorn, dripping and gasping. Derek wasn’t looking at her reflection, instead focusing solely on her, reaching up to caress her buzz-covered scalp with one hand as he turned her head this way and that with the other. Denise half-expected to be in tears by now, but, despite the almost ensured gasps and questions and condemnations she knew she would face, she couldn’t hate it. In fact, it was the opposite.

She turned to Derek and drew his lips to hers, reveling in his passionate embrace as he pulled her close. His fingers dug into the backs of her thighs, sliding down toward her knees as he bent to pick her up as she tossed his towel aside. In a flash she was on the vanity, his face tantalizingly close and his hard cock even closer as he asked, “Okay so far?”

She nodded, kissing him hungrily as her legs rose around his waist and her hands urged his hips forward. She cried against his mouth as he pushed into her. With her heart racing she slid her hands to his shoulders and then down his arms to his hands on the vanity top and then, slapped her palms against the furniture haphazardly until they found the clippers again. The 1/8^th inch blade came off easily, and she pressed them back against Derek’s hand.

Without words, he cupped the nape of her neck, pressed his lips to hers, and then guided her to look to her side. There, she saw the bare blades of the clippers rising. They pressed to her forehead, chittering loudly, and then swept backward. There was no mistaking how different the sensation felt – while the nibbling and purring against her skin was the same, the resistance was nonexistent. The blades moved quickly as Derek strained to finish her head before she finished him. She savored the unspoken challenge, moaning and squealing loudly as she rocked against him, running her tongue along her teeth and lips in exaggerated ecstasy as he stripped away every last hint of the glorious hair she once had.

It only took a few moments before he was visibly straining, caught between laughing and coming as she as she squealed his name and hooked her ankles behind him. Finally, the clippers clattered against the vanity and then to the floor as he grabbed hold of Denise and carried her to the bed, dropping her down in time for a few hard, deep thrusts. Denise let herself laugh then, gripping him tightly as she felt her body tense and then release itself into coursing waves of pleasure. Derek shuddered, and then collapsed panting as he lay over her, his cheek and breath warm against her naked neck.

“Well… that was fun,” Denise panted.

“You. Are. The best.”

Denise giggled, and then noticed a soft rasping when she moved her head against the bedsheets. She kept quiet as she looked to the left and then to the right, the rasping continuing whenever she turned. It was an incredible sensation, to feel the cool satin sheets against what was basically her skin – skin that had never once in her life felt anything against it – but still, she couldn’t help but say, “I think you missed a few spots.”

Derek, still panting, lifted himself to look into her eyes and nodded. “I would like to think I had a valid excuse, you succubus.”

She waggled her eyebrows, and pulled him down for a kiss. “You should probably neaten me up before we reach a point where you get more excuses for shoddy work.”

“Of course, madam.” he kissed her again and then stood, taking her hand to help her stand as well, but pausing to kiss the top of her head – his lips against her scalp, something she couldn’t feel just a few minutes ago, made everything so much more real. She raised a hand to feel, but he stopped her with a gentle hold. “Not until I get the rough patches.”

“Okay, good idea.” She didn’t expect any panic would set in, but… probably better to be introduced to the new situation in the best light possible. If nothing else, she reminded herself, she looked pretty good with the buzzcut, so that would be… what? Like a week or two until she looked good again? That was hardly a tragedy.

When Derek brought the clippers toward her, she had a thought. And being the good boy he was, he could read it in her face – something that was probably much easier with absolutely no hair surrounding it. “What?”

She nodded toward his shaving gel and razor, smiling.

“You sure?”

She shrugged. “Yolo.”

In a flash, Derek was sitting on the bed behind her, fshhhhhhing his palm full of his shaving gel and then carefully, slowly spreading it across her head. It was cold at first, but gradually warmed up as Derek used both of his hands to turn it into a thick lather. Denise had her suspicions he kept this up far longer than necessary, turning the lathering into a long, gentle head massage that she certainly was not going to argue against.

Eventually it did end, though. A gentle nudge had her tilt her chin downward, and then she felt the razor against the crown of her head. Long, slow strokes slid along her skull and down her nape, with frequent pauses for the blade to be cleaned off against Derek’s discarded towel. The exposed expanses tingled after every pass as nerves not used to being exposed so brazenly woke up, and Denise felt a particular warmth growing inside as the man she loved tended to her so carefully, going to almost ridiculous extremes to make sure he didn’t nick or cut her as she indulged him.

She smiled to herself, not even thinking about her hair or lack thereof as Derek worked. Instead, she focused on how well they worked together, even in this little bit of depravity, and how this would absolutely be a Valentines she remembered forever – probably the first she could say that for.

After Derek tilted her head to either side to clear away around her ears, and then bared the top of her head with long, slow, delicate strokes, he crouched in front of her. She leaned in for a kiss, breathing him in before pulling away.

“Do you still think I’m pr–”

“Fuck yes.” He smiled, reaching up to caress her bare scalp, sending fireworks and electric tingles from her crown to the tips of her fingers and toes. “Thank you.”

She kissed him again. “Can I see it, or should I just wear a beanie and cover my mirrors for a few months?”

“As cute as you look in beanies, I think you can risk taking a look.”

She slid from the bed and backed toward the mirror. Once Derek got that look of someone about to watch someone else trip over furniture behind them, she stopped and started to turn. As she did, she kept her eyes on the floor, gasping when her gaze came upon the piles of her shorn locks. Even as short as she had thought her hair had been, she really, truly could not believe how much had been on her head.

But then she lifted her eyes to her reflection and saw just how naked her scalp was. Completely, totally nude, with no sign of being able to grow the silky, lush locks that had always been the envy of so many no matter the length. She giggled at that, despite herself. She supposed “no length” would be the one length where her hair wouldn’t garner any compliments at all. Was that something she’d miss? The answer would come soon enough, she guessed.

She ran a hand over her scalp, feeling soft skin where she used to feel soft tresses, and followed the alien curves that blended into her nape and neck. She furrowed her brow, then raised her elegantly arched eyebrows, grinning as she explored every possible emotion with them. She scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue, then pouted and frown and winked seductively. Every expression seemed to be on hyperdrive, with nothing but her beautiful features and bright eyes to focus on. This was certainly something new, something to get used to in the short time she’d be experiencing it.

“So?” Derek asked, his hands folded nervously in his lap as he sat on the corner of the bed.

She looked at him coyly over her shoulder, making a show of running her hand back to her nape. “I don’t hate it.” A pause as she had a thought. “Any chance your brother could book us another night here so you can really enjoy it while it lasts? Maybe you could even convince me to keep the look a little bit longer than planned.”

“I… will make it work. Even if I have to repaint his entire house in exchange, I will make it work.”

 

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I have to admit that full headshaves aren’t usually my thing, but t just seemed right as this story wrote itself. I hope you enjoyed it, and any comments or critiques are more than welcome!