Long have I been a fan of beautiful long-haired women. About half as long I have been a fan of watching them get their hair cut… short! Through the years, the fantasy has transformed itself to include interracial and lesbian scenes, me watching a woman cut it all off and having no choice in the matter, and me having all the say in the matter… and her none.
At some point my wife became aware of my interest. At times she would tease me with the thought or, better yet, threaten me during an argument she would cut it. (I believe it was my obvious arousal during these times which gave me away.) Sometimes she would seem to get excited too, other times she would ridicule my fantasy as sick and demented. At any rate, she was determined she was never going to divest herself of her waist-length strawberry blonde locks which were often the subject of jealous compliments by other women.
My wife, however, has an unfortunate weakness… she is irresponsible with credit cards and money. It was at just such a point, after I’d received a sizable insurance settlement, that I played my hand.
I had noticed over the course of about a month that her hair had been getting shorter. At first I thought it was an illusion, but she confirmed she had cut off about eight inches a little at a time. I was sorely disappointed I hadn’t been afforded the opportunity to witness the cutting, but I saw an opportunity I couldn’t resist.
I made a serious jest I would give her $100 an inch for as much as she would cut off. Several days later she told me to get my checkbook ready. During the next month she brought home hairstyle books and hid them under the couch. I found the books, however, and found some subtle markings on one picture one day. The style was one almost like a male military cut with wispy feminine bangs fluffed out at the top.
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One day she gave me the book and asked me to look through the pictures to guess what she picked. I feigned ignorance for a while until I came to the picture. The marks were gone, but I pretended I could still see them. I said, “It looks like you want that one…. but you don’t have the guts to pull it off.” She stammered and said I didn’t know what I was talking about and I would just have to wait and see.
The night before the designated cutting I was, without knowing if it really was or not, allowed to brush her hair for “one last time”, followed by an intense screw session. While she sucked me off I enjoyed the sight and feel of her hair sprawled across my stomach and thighs. I watched her pull the hair out of her mouth and reminded her she wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore soon. She assured me that was for certain. I was truly going to miss her hair… but so intensely excited!
The next day I met her at the hairdresser’s. I took a seat and she announced to the entire shop I had made a bet with her and she lost… that, furthermore, we both wanted her to try a different style and she was sick of long hair (no backing out now) and I was compensating her for her “loss”. One stylist, a gorgeous redhead with hair to her ass commented, “Most our husbands don’t even notice our hair when we change it, if you were paying me a hundred bucks an inch you could shave me bald as a baby!”
The comment was almost too much for me… I considered it, but since she was an acquaintance of my wife, and I don’t shit where I eat, I rid myself of the temptation.
I had a seat, video camera in hand, and watched with disbelief as a sixteen inch ponytail was cut from my wife’s head. Hair was slowly removed from other areas as her new style was sculpted. My God! How sexy!
I wanted to strip her and fuck her right there in the chair… maybe even grab the clippers and rid her of the rest of it while I was at it! I restrained myself, but took full pleasure in playing with her naked neck and ears when I fucked her that night.
About a month later she further surprised me by coming home with an even shorter haircut like one Sharon Stone was sporting at the time. She declared this was the last time she would ever have short hair again and she was re-growing it long. That was three years ago… she has made the attempt, but inevitably cuts it again every time it starts to near her shoulders.
While I lamented the fact I only got to see sixteen inches cut instead of twenty-four, it worked out cheaper for me. I still have the ponytail and it is an experience I will always cherish. This story is absolutely true… though I intend to submit other versions eventually of how I wish it had happened.
I hope you have enjoyed this very true account.