Amy stretched gracefully as she awoke. She could feel the afternoon sun, warm on her naked body. From the low angle at which it streamed through the window she knew it was late. Almost unconsciously she lifted a hand to her head. The normal feeling of her long hair flowing through her fingers was missing, instead her hand ran teasingly across the freshly clipped nape.
She closed her eyes dreamily, and recalled the events of the morning. It seemed so long ago when she had washed, and dried the long dark hair that had cascaded down her back, yet it was only this morning. She smiled as she remembered the events of the day. Events she had not planned, events she had never thought of. She still wasn’t really sure how it had all happened. She wasn’t really sure why she had been in that part of town, or her reason for entering the salon. She tried to recall what had stopped her from fleeing, what stopped her running from the shop, her glorious hair flowing behind her at the first mention of it being cut. For some reason, nothing came to mind. She sat up and stared in the mirror.
No it wasn’t a dream. Her reflection confirmed it, her hand reinforcing the image her eyes saw. She turned slightly to get a better look at the pelt-like velvety hair which covered the back and sides of her head. Again her hand stroked up against the growth, encountering the thick heavy line of hair that capped her head. She smiled deeply as she recalled the erotic feelings that had stirred within her as those humming vibrating clippers had harvested her hair this very morning. Amy moaned softly as she recalled the shock and horror she had felt when she had bent her head forward to allow the clippers full access to her sensitive nape. Shock and horror, yet somehow strangely sensual and erotic as she was confronted with a lap full of long dark hair. The tiled floor almost carpeted with her severed locks.
Amy laughed, she would have to remember that sight, she doubted she would ever see it again.
She heard the front door of the apartment open and close.
Suddenly Amy’s heart skipped a beat. Throughout this she hadn’t once stop to consider what Jason’s reaction would be. Suddenly she was scared. Images flashed through her mind. Images of Jason carefully brushing her hair, her ears filled with the imaginary sounds of those comments she had heard so often. He played with her hair often. Always stroking, or brushing it. Sometimes pulling it up into a thick heavy ponytail, and twisting it into a thick rope. He always complimented her on its beauty, never failing to notice when she’d had the slightest change of style, aware even of the smallest of trims.
Well he was certainly going to notice this ‘trim’, she thought to herself. She heard him wandering through the house looking for her. “In here,” she called to him, her voice suddenly shaky. What have I done, Amy thought to herself, he’s going to hate it, I know he is. Just hate it, and hate me for doing it.
“How’s your day been?” he called as he approached the bedroom. “Hey I thought we might go out tonight. John’s told me about this great little French place that he went to last week. I thought we could try it.”
Amy comprehended nothing, she was just aware of his voice getting louder and louder as he approached the bedroom door. She tried to stand, to meet him at the door, but she couldn’t move.
“What do you think babe?” he continued. “You up for a night out on the….”
Amy heard the thump as his briefcase hit the floor. She looked up meekly as he stood motionless at the doorway.
“My God!” exclaimed Jason as he stood at the door, his mouth agape with shock. “Your hair! What have… I mean how… umm, your hair,” he finally managed to stammer.
As he approached Amy managed to stand. “Oh my God… Oh my God, look at your hair,” Jason whispered as her slowly circled her. “I don’t believe it. Shit I just don’t believe it!”
Suddenly it happened. Amy wasn’t sure why, and she certainly didn’t mean to, but the floodgates opened and uncontrollable tears streamed down her cheeks. “I knew you’d hate it,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I don’t know why I did it. I didn’t mean to, it just… just sort of happened.”
His big strong arms enveloped her. “Sssh, sssh,” he whispered. “I don’t hate it. How could I hate it? You look so incredible. You look so absolutely incredible!”
“Really?” sobbed Amy. “You really like it?”
“Oh yes, I love it!” replied Jason, a strangely longing tone in his voice.
“Really? You’re not just saying that to be nic….” Amy sentence was cut short by Jason’s lips covering her own. He kissed her deeply, his lips soft and tender, yet somehow firm and demanding. Her own lips sought the truth from him as he pressed against her naked body. She felt him rapidly hardening against her, as he pushed her back on the bed. Suddenly she was consumed with passion. She tore at his clothes in a desperate effort to reveal his naked flesh to her. Her hand found the fly on his trousers and quickly released his manhood. He knelt between her soft milky thighs, his body poised above her. Amy guided him to her center.
Amy closed her eyes as he felt him penetrate her being. She groaned and wrapped her legs tight around his semi clothed body. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear as he began to thrust forcefully into her.
Amy wasn’t sure how long they had made love for before he collapsed on top of her, his body glistening with sweat, his heart pounding so hard in his chest, she could feel it against her own. It hadn’t been long, but it had definitely been enjoyable. Her body ached from where he had slammed himself against her repeatedly, in a primeval, animalistic display of glorious, sweat inducing, sex. Neither had spoken, instead merely grunting or moaning their respective needs and desires to each other. Amy couldn’t remember them ever making love so violently, so passionately, so totally. She lay there listening to their combined panting gradually slowing. Eventually Jason rolled carefully to one side.
Amy lay there, the gentle breeze from the overhead fan suddenly cool on her glistening body. She swallowed, feeling some moisture return to her bone dry mouth as she glanced over at Jason, only to see him staring back at her.
“Far out!” she groaned. “Where the hell did that come from? That was, um that was, like… um, wow!”
“Hmm,” Jason agreed, before adding, “I’m not sure, but more importantly, where did this come from?” he asked, reaching out slowly and tracing a finger up her nape and around her ear.
She shivered as the goose bumps raced up and down her spine. “Well, it just sort of happened,” said Amy, the words seeming totally inadequate even to her.
“What do you mean, it just sort of happened?”
Amy did her best to explain, desperately trying to rationalise how she had let something like this happen. She watched Jason studying her hair intensely, as she struggled through her recollection of the morning’s events.
“Tell me about it,” he asked.
“I thought I just did,” Amy replied.
“No. I mean tell me ALL about it. Tell me every little detail,” Jason pressed. “Don’t leave anything out.”
Amy started to share the details. Several times as she progressed, Jason would stop her, and ask her to clarify specific details. Where was the salon? What was the chair made of? Was it cold? Big? Could she be seen from the street? What size were the shears Roberto had used? How many people were in the salon at the time? What did the clippers feel like? Were they loud? He seemed to have a million questions. Amy struggled to recall some of the answers. As her tale continued she felt his head bend down and the soft warmth of his mouth on her breast. As she spoke she felt her arousal building again. Was it because of the oral attentions of Jason upon her bosom, or was it the events of this morning, again producing those strong, erotic reactions? Amy wasn’t entirely certain, but as she glanced down, it was obvious that Jason had reacted in a similar way.
Amy rolled over, straddling him. As she began to describe the feeling of the clippers on her nape she once again guided his rock hard cock into her. Jason moaned softly as she began a slow gentle rocking motion. The more Amy spoke of her haircut the quicker her motion became. It wasn’t long before she found it almost impossible to speak coherently. Jason smiled up from below her. “Yes baby,” he urged, “Fuck me baby.”
Amy closed her eyes and recalled the events she had just described. She felt her orgasm build, quickly. Jason slid a practised hand between them as she rode his body. His thumb pressed gently against her swollen clit. Amy screamed as she succumbed to her needs. It seemed like it went on for ever. Her body shook involuntarily as her orgasm flooded from her. Gradually her body started to respond to her commands. She opened her eyes and looked down at Jason below her. He reached up and pulled her down to him, kissing her gently, lovingly. “You look so beautiful when you do that,” he whispered softly in her ear. Tenderly his muscular arms encircled her. Amy sighed deeply as she drifted off to sleep, vaguely aware of Jason exploring fingers stroking her nape.
Amy was woken by someone gently shaking her. “Morning sleepyhead.” Jason sat at the edge of the bed, on his knee he balanced a tray containing breakfast. “Here, I thought you might be hungry.” Amy sat up, slowly rubbing the sleep from her eyes, as she gazed down at the meal he had prepared for her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was trying to remember the last time he had surprised her with breakfast in bed, but her memory drew a blank.
“Thanks,” she replied.
“No, thank you!”
“What do you have to thank me for?” questioned Amy.
“For this!” exclaim Jason. “Wow, I can’t believe you cut your hair for me. It looks awesome, just awesome.”
“What do you mean, for you?” said Amy, more than a little confused. “I didn’t cut my hair for you. I didn’t really want it cut. Like I told you, it just sort of happened.”
“Oh,” said Jason, a strange red blush washing over his cheeks.
“I mean why would I cut my hair for you? I thought you’d be upset.”
“Upset? Of course not,” whispered Jason. Now it was Amy’s turn for confusion. “I just thought you knew,” he added.
“Knew what?” queried Amy.
“Well, knew about my hair thing, you know, my hair fetish,” continued Jason, his embarrassment deepening. “You know, my thing for short hair. You did know didn’t you?”
“NO!” she exclaimed. “Short hair? But you always make such a… I mean, made such a fuss of my long hair. The way you used to run your hands through it, or insist on brushing it, I mean I just thought,” stammered Amy.
“To be honest babe, I used to think how much I’d love to see it all hit the floor. How exciting it would be sit and watch it being cut and to run my hands through short sexy hair,” he blurted out. “I just never thought this short, or this sexy!”
“Oh baby,” Amy whispered. “Why didn’t you just tell me? If you wanted me to have short hair, all you had to do was ask.”
He looked at her longingly. “I love you for even thinking that. But there is no way you would have cut your hair that short for me. And besides, how was I meant to ask you? Just say, ‘Oh by the way next time you go for a trim I’d like to come along and watch them buzz your head’?” He kissed her gently on the cheek before continuing. “Besides, the hair thing is mine. It would be unfair of me to pressure you into anything like that. And what if you’d done it for me and hated it, I didn’t want to risk losing you over something like this. I love you for a million reasons, the hair thing was just something for me to fantasise about.”
As she listened to his words, she knew he was right, she never would have had her hair cut this short, not for anybody. She kissed him deeply. “I love you, I love you so much,” she said.
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Jason gradually revealed more and more about his fetish. Amy was amazed at how complex it was, at how deep-seated it was, and at how long he had had it for, yet managed to hide it from her, hide it from everyone. The more she got to know about it the more surprised she was at how she had overlooked all the signs. Slowly things began to make sense. Small little things that on their own, or in isolation seemed odd but really meant nothing, yet these same things when combined took on a whole new significance.
Things like how he would slow his pace as they walked past a salon, slow it just enough to ensure he had a good chance to see what was happening inside but not enough to raise questions when she was with him. Things like how he would describe other females. He generally wouldn’t say things like, ‘look over there by that lady with the blue sweater’, or red skirt, or similar. Instead he would say something like, ‘look over there by that lady with the long, slightly layered blonde hair’, or ‘behind the girl with the inverted bob with the highlights’. Like how he would remember ladies’ names by what their hairstyle was like. Another clue which Amy had amazingly overlooked was his knowledge of hairdressing terms. For some reason she hadn’t thought it unusual that he knew and used terms that she generally only heard in a salon. She hadn’t even given it a second thought that he knew the difference between a blunt-cut bob, and a graduated bob, or that he could tell the difference between a wedge cut and an inverted bob, or pick an Eton crop from a pixie. She just accepted it. Now she could understand why he had assumed she knew about his ‘hair thing’, as they had taken to calling it.
Suddenly it made sense, things like why he walked three blocks to his regular lunch spot in the mall. She could never understand why he walked past three or four better cafés, but now it made sense. The little lunch bar offered uninterrupted views into the salon directly across from it. He even took her to lunch one day and showed her how by sitting in just the right seat, and using the reflection of the salon mirrors, you could be assured a reasonable view of almost every stylist’s station. Jason seemed only too pleased to finally be able to talk with her about it.
He showed her a huge folder that contained two or three hundred pictures he had collected over the years. They were indexed by style and type, and Amy was amazed at how common the ‘hair thing’ was. In almost every picture the girl was smiling as long full sections of hair were being severed from their scalp, or a set of hungry humming clippers were harvesting their hair. She quietly admitted to herself that some of the images excited her also. When Jason showed her a folder labelled, “Archive Stories”, she couldn’t believe it. It contained dozens of stories that he had downloaded from the internet. Many of these were very, very descriptive, and it became an almost nightly ritual to read a story aloud to each other. Without exception. these story sessions led to some extremely intense and passionate events. Amy couldn’t believe the transformation in both Jason and indeed in herself. It seemed as if she were suddenly far less reserved and Jason was the most attentive, caring, and tender man she had ever known.
It was after one of these sessions when she happened to remark how exciting it would be to actually watch one of the stories being acted out. “Really,” queried Jason. “You’d like to watch someone getting their hair cut?”
“Oh yes,” cooed Amy. “Especially a dramatic change. Like from long to really short like that story you just read.”
“Don’t go away,” he replied, leaping from the bed. “I’ll be right back.”
He was only gone for a few moments, before he returned with eight or nine video tapes. “Pick one,” he told her. Amy pointed to one at random, which Jason quickly slotted into the video machine. A few seconds later an image flashed onto the screen and the room filled with an erotically familiar sound. Amy stared wide-eyed at the screen. As she watched a good-looking young girl having her shoulder-length hair clippered away. As Amy watched the girl’s hair being reduced to a mere quarter of an inch, she could feel her body reacting, reacting quickly.
“Where did you get this from?” she asked, without averting her eyes from screen. Jason explained about the sites on the internet that sold them. “How many tape do you have?” she enquired. “About a dozen or so,” he replied. That night was another memorable one, one that took their lovemaking to a new level, a new intensity.
Over the next few day Amy watched all the tapes. Several of them she watched over and over. One in particular made her incredibly hot. It showed a gorgeous girl getting her long blonde hair buzzed and clippered off until she was left with less than quarter of an inch of hair anywhere on her head, except for a few spiky bangs right at the front. Amy could believe how awesome she looked with her hair so very, very short. The tape had been fuel for several self-indulgent pleasure sessions.
It was a few days later when, as they layed in bed together, that Amy began to play the tape. As they both watched the clippers mow up the back of the girl’s nape, Amy ran her fingers across her own nape. She couldn’t believe how fast it had grown. It had to be at least twice as long as when she first had it done, yet it seemed only yesterday. She made a comment about needing a trim, and heard Jason tell her he definitely wanted to be present this time.
“Oh you will be, I promise,” she replied. “I thought I might try something a little shorter,” she teased, watching Jason squirm as he heard her words. “Something sort of like that!” she stated pointing at the screen as the cut came to a finish.”
“Really?” he asked, not sure if she was serious, or just teasing him again.
“Jason, why don’t you go and get them,” Amy stated, checking his reaction to see if her guess was right.
“Get what,” countered Jason, doing his best to act innocent.
“Your haircutting stuff,” came the reply he had only dared hope for.
“What stuff?” he said in one last attempt at innocence.
She looked straight at him and said, “I know you, and now I know all about your hair thing, so I am willing to bet my hair that somewhere around here you have a collection of scissors and combs and stuff. I bet you even have a nice set of clippers complete with all the attachments, don’t you?”
He gulped, and nodded slowly. “Would you like to cut my hair for me?” She continued to tease, “Would you like to finally get a chance to really use those clippers?” All the time she had been staring at his growing erection. “Yes it seems you would,” she giggled. “You better get them before it explodes.” She gave his cock a playful tug, then added, “It’s time we took this to the next level.”
Jason literally flew from the room, and in seconds reappeared in front of her. Quickly he spread his secret collection out on the dressing table. Amy looked on eagerly as he spread out his equipment: three different sizes of shears, several combs, a silver cape, and on the end a set of electric clippers, complete with five different attachments. As he finished carefully arranging everything he turned to her and asked, “Are you sure about this?”
“Oh yes,” Amy replied, “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
Jason gestured to the chair in front of the big mirror on her dressing table, “If you would be so kind as to be seated,” he said nervously.
Amy crossed the room and sat in the chair. As she looked in the mirror she thought how different she looked compared to the last time she had gazed in to a mirror, waiting for her hair to be cut. Not just because she no longer had the long dark hair flowing down her back, but this time she was confident and eager about what was in store for her. Gone from the reflection was the nervous, timid, shy Amy that had stared back from the salon mirror. Instead, here assured, excited, eager Amy smiled back at her.
“How do you want it cut?” came the enquiry.
“Can you do it like that?” she replied as she indicated the image she had paused on the video tape.
“Yes, yes I b… b… believe I c… can,” Jason stuttered his answer.
Amy watched his movements, slow deliberate movements as he reached for the cape. “Please don’t worry with that. I’d prefer to feel the hair fall against my naked body,” Amy announced. Jason groaned as he dropped the cape and kicked it to one side. He picked up the clippers and quickly plugged them in. He eased the switch forward and was rewarded with the familiar POPPpburrrr…. He quickly turned them off, and reached forward for the half-inch guard. He was in the process of attaching it to the clippers when Amy interrupted, “No Jason, please use the smaller one. I want my hair as short as hers,” and again she indicated to the image on the screen.
Jason replaced the guard on the dresser and slowly picked up the quarter-inch one. Almost in a trance he fitted it snugly in to place on the head of the clippers. Slowly he walked around behind her. Almost not daring to breathe, he eased the switch forward once more, the clippers clacked happily into life, and sat there humming erotically in his hand. He stared at them, could he actually do this? He looked at Amy in the mirror, her smiling positive face beamed back at him. She stared straight at him and said, “Yes baby I’m sure. Do it, do it now!” As she finished she bent her head as far forward as she could, burying her chin into her chest and stretching and exposing her furry nape.
She felt Jason touch the clippers to the base of her neck, the vibrations seemed to race from there to her moist pussy. He eased the clippers up, they sent a spray of tiny hairs flying as they ran across her previously clippered nape. Up and up her nape they climbed, then suddenly their tone changed as the clippers encountered the full thick heavy cap of hair at her crown. Amy sighed as she felt longer tufts of hair tumble down on to her shoulders, onto her breasts, into her naked lap. She felt him lift the clippers away and trace the path with his fingers. She groaned as he rubbed them across her suddenly super-sensitive crown.
Again he ran the clippers up the back of her head, then twice more. She could sense the excitement building in both of them, building between both of them. She felt the clippers climb up behind her left ear, so loud, so erotic. Subconsciously she cupped her breasts, playfully rolling and squeezing her nipples. She groaned as she felt a tuft of hair fall down and bounce across her hard nipple on its way to the floor. She lifted her head as Jason finished buzzing the nape. She watched as he concentrated, no savoured, the action of the clippers.
Placing them at her crown he pushed them forward. Amy could see the little hill of hair forming in front of the relentless blades as they travelled forward across her scalp. As they reached her forehead, Jason lifted them and twisted the clippers to one side. A shower of hair rained down in front of her. Amy picked up one of the three-inch locks, wrapping it around her slender finger. As the clippers made another pass she rubbed the soft silky hair against her clit. She closed her eyes, revelling in the sensation. She would have to remember this well. She knew she might never have hair long enough to feel this again.
Jason’s action with the clippers were quicker, more forceful now as he hurried to complete his task. His speed revealed his extreme state of excitement. Amy felt him clip away the last long strands, and then quickly run the clippers all over her crown a second time, checking for any missed pieces. She watched as the clippers hunted, unsuccessfully, for any longer sections.
Suddenly the room was deadly quiet. Jason put down the now silent clippers and softly kissed her on the top of her head. Amy stood and turned, her lips meeting his as she pushed him backwards onto the bed.
“Thank you,” he said in a husky whisper.
“Don’t thank me,” Amy replied as she mounted him swiftly. “Just fucking make me come!” she exclaimed.
He began thrusting up into her in full deep strokes, and quickly she matched his rhythm, slamming her soaking wet pussy down on to him.
She could feel her tension building. Oh god this was so good. He reached up and ran his finger through, no more like across, her hair. She groaned at the feeling.
“Of… course… with… my… hair… this… short… it… will… need… reg… u… lar… trims,” she stated, each syllable met with another thrust of his hips, another thrust of his cock inside her.
“Oh yes,” he agreed, “At least once a week.”
“No,… I… was… think… ing… more… like… to… morrow!” Amy cried. She felt him spasm, and heard his grunt of ecstasy. Suddenly her own release hit her and she collapsed forward on to him.
As she lay there, her body throbbing, his penis still inside her, his hand exploring her freshly clipped head, she wondered, did she have the nerve, would she ever have the nerve to take this to the next level?