The Dance With Fate – BuzzBaby
Two years had passed since Ann and Charlie’s first meeting. In that time they had been together physically on four occasions, each more memorable than the last. Between meetings there were emails and a phone call now and then. And of course, the fantasies that filled their thoughts – both those expressed and the ones left unshared. What started as an affair had become a friendship. No. More than that. It was a release from that which was socially acceptable. It was a chance to explore a mutual interest with someone who truly understood. They were each willing to accept ideas without fear and to acknowledge limits without pressure. And in doing so, Charlie and Ann enjoyed an emotional and physical relationship together that was intensely satisfying.
Two and a half years earlier, it had been Charlie that made the first move. Ann’s email address was in a profile in a hair-related club on the Internet. No stranger to the clubs, he had noticed a tentative inquiry Ann had posted and was compelled to respond.
For Ann, the clubs were a new and self-affirming experience. She had felt isolated for years by the fact that having her hair cut caused reactions in her body usually reserved for sexually intimate moments. A trim made her damp with anticipation. A cut of a few inches left her more wet than an hour of foreplay. The thought of having her hair taken could bring her to orgasm without so much as a touch. And here she was, surrounded by an on-line community of people from around the world with the same fascination – separating a woman from her hair. In the middle of that community was Charlie, who, while he made no bones about wanting to cut her hair, was sensual and patient, well-spoken and considerate. Whether or not he knew it at the time, those were the traits that made him stand out in Ann’s eyes. He would be the one to lead her in the dance where fantasy meets reality.
Charlie recognized a challenge in Ann. She was intensely passionate – like glowing crimson coals just aching to burst into flames. Simple ideas expressed by Ann could fuel Charlie’s fire and he set out to find out what would spark her repressed desires enough to allow him to take her body and her hair. In an early email to him, she confided that she was emotionally connected to haircutting by some childhood experiences, including a forced pixie cut as punishment for snipping off some hidden locks of her own hair. She related a story of a wild night ride that ended in her chopping off many inches of her own hair in the early hours of the morning as a younger adult. And he knew that her pussy had been shaved by a lover at least once, but he didn’t know the details.
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Part of his self-imposed challenge was to get close enough to Ann to be the next lover to take her fur and to earn her trust so that she would ask him to take her hair. Or at least, so she would not hate him when he did it of his own accord.
As Ann explored her suddenly acceptable fascination with the cropping of hair, she would run across posts on message boards that Charlie had put up earlier. He had acknowledged and accepted the fact that cutting off a woman’s hair was pleasurable to him. His posts supported the fact that he actively sought out a woman or women with whom to indulge his passion. Ann found herself jealous of the fact that so many people had a head start on her in their pursuit of testing their limits. She envied their freedom to act and their willingness to buck the system of social acceptance. She also saw the games that were played.
Even in a world where everyone wanted a shorn woman, how the woman was rendered buzzed or bald was a topic with as much politicism as abortion. Gay women ignored posts from men. Men expressed means of rendering a woman hairless that bordered on rape. Straight women with no intention of letting their locks be taken toyed with men and other women, no doubt masturbating as they read replies.
From the erotic to the psychotic, the internet community had it all. And now it had Ann on the verge of sharing her long repressed desires with one man. Charlie.
They could laugh about it now, but in the months and weeks prior to their meeting on that fateful Thursday in September, they panicked over whether or not they could live up to each other’s fantasies. And they talked about limits and respect, and about how to give them both what they wanted for themselves and each other. Charlie made a comment to Ann about getting ‘on the same side of the barn door with her before he cut her hair for real’. To which Ann responded that if the passion was what she expected, her limits would be forgotten in the heat of the moment. But Charlie had listened and read between the lines. Ann didn’t want to be bald or buzzed to mere stubble. She wanted to be brutally shorn with beautiful results. If he could make that happen for her, Ann would give him many more experiences to satisfy his self-titled foolish pleasure for years.
September came to Massachusetts and, as promised, so did Ann. In deference to her need for control, Charlie let her make the accommodation arrangements. When he rounded the tree-lined bend in the drive of the private lodge that was to be their playground he knew she’d be there. Her little red sports car was parked in the drive and the front door of the lodge was open, inviting him in.
She was pretty and smart and sensitive and sexual. All the things Charlie knew Ann would be. And after the expected posturing of a first time meeting, they laughed and teased each other into bed and into the first timid turns of the dance.
He was decisive and intelligent and aware of her needs and his own. Ann felt no true fear – but intense sexual excitement as he gently tied her hands and explored her body with his lips and fingers. It seemed to be hours before he took the first lock. A two-inch snippet from her crown as she caressed his cock with her talented mouth. The sound of the closing of the scissors hung in the air like an echo and it reverberated in Ann’s aching pussy, not unlike the sensation when she lost her virginity in her late teens.
That had been the beginning of Ann and Charlie’s fated entanglement and its complete telling is better left for another time. For that was then and this is now.
The dance continues on the water on Charlie’s boat and the tentative newness from two years earlier has been replaced with an understanding and affection that only shared experience brings. Their kiss upon meeting was familiar and yet passionately satisfying. Charlie had once said that their tongues danced and Ann agreed. He ran his weathered hands through her hair, which barely touched her shoulders. There wasn’t a piece of silk in the world that could compare to the texture of Ann’s locks.
Ann, in turn, ruffled his hair and agreed that he needed a good buzzing. Ann had grown to find pleasure in reciprocating and loved to move the clippers over Charlie’s head. But first, an ocean voyage to a place decidedly more private… a rocky little cove that seemed untouched by man and beast. Once they anchored, Charlie helped Ann with tanning lotion across her back and arms and on her bare breasts. He slid his hand into the front of her shorts and discovered her tangled fur that would again be his. Each time he shaved her pussy it was like opening a present that was just what you wanted. And Ann always wanted Charlie.
Ann just smiled and wiggled away, going for the rechargeable clippers that Charlie carried in his sea bag. She clicked them on and teasingly headed for the trail of fur that led to his cock. He hugged her close and their tongues danced until Charlie’s found Ann’s left nipple. As it hardened under the touch of his lips and tongue, Charlie felt the clippers at his ear and his hair start to fall. A number 2 buzzcut from his Ann was all it took.
Raising his partially shorn head, Charlie looked deep into Ann’s eyes. They sparkled brown and amber and he couldn’t decide what shone more. Her eyes… or her hair. She smiled and kissed his nose, then pulled his face to her right breast so she could buzz the other side of his head. The sea breeze took his hair across the bow and to the water. With the sides and back done, she sat him down and buzzed the top, then carefully tapered the hairline over the ears and at his nape with the number 1 guard on the clippers.
They kissed and she rubbed her hands over his soft brush of brown. She nuzzled his neck and pretended to blow away stray clippings left by the wind. Across his chest and stomach, until her lips found his erect cock just waiting for her attention. He looked down at Ann’s head, buoying up and down on his erection with the rhythm of the waves. He touched his buzzed head and then the silk that was Ann’s hair now mingled with his own curly pubic strands. He wanted to contemplate Ann’s cut, but the work of her mouth distracted his thoughts. Pulling her to her feet, he tugged off her shorts and invited her to sit on his lap. Then, with the help of the sea, they rocked together into orgasm.
There in the heat of the late morning sun, he suggested they go below to avoid the harsh rays. Climbing into the berth, Charlie invite Ann to join him. She wondered if her new adventure were about to start. Would Charlie start hacking at her hair and not stop until the last of it was scraped from her head? He kissed her then pulled back – brushing the hair from her face with a calloused hand, resting his hand for a moment at the top of her forehead as if he were calculating Ann’s look as a totally bald woman. He thought she’d be beautiful, but was she truly ready? If only her eyes would tell him.
For hours they laid together, laughing, touching their now familiar bodies and not saying a word about the true purpose of their day together – the cutting off of Ann’s hair. She nearly forgot until Charlie pulled out the blindfold, gazed into her eyes one last time before hiding them from view. He could feel Ann tremble, but he didn’t know if it was excitement or fear. Leaving her to imagine her fate, he went topside and prepared. Ann could hear scraping on the deck, like furniture moving.
When he was ready he took her by the hand and guided her up to the deck. From the position of the sun on her face, Ann thought she could make out a few shapes through the blindfold. Charlie led her to a table and he helped her to lay down. It was only a moment before she realized that it was a massage table. On the sea air she thought she smelled vanilla and amid the crashing of the waves, the sound of the wind and the beating of her heart, did she hear scissors clicking together?
Her hand impulsively went to her head, but Charlie caught it and slipped it into a soft cuff that was attached to the table. The second hand was secured as well, then Charlie’s hands went to explore what he knew he’d find behind Ann’s tangle of fur. Her clit was ripe for the tasting and he sucked it gently – rolling it against his teeth until an orgasm made Ann arch up against him, shuddering with pleasure. The hair of her pussy glistened with her own lubricant. Ann arched again as she felt the cold steel of a straight razor resting against her thigh and her pussy swelled again, sending out more of her own juices to aid Charlie in the shaving of her bush. He’d take a careful stroke, leaving a cool strip of bare skin behind. She could feel the breeze on the bare spot and hear him rinse way the damp hair from the blade in some water.
Charlie gazed at Ann’s bare body and watched as she reacted to his touch. After their first meeting, she never spoke while he was in control of her hair and destiny. But she moaned softly when his hands touched her and her skin became instantly warm wherever his lips grazed. And she tensed and trembled when she felt the cool edge of steel anywhere near her hair. He swore he could see her heartbeat in her shorn and shaved pussy. For all her tense reactions, no amount of mere touching made her as wet as the fear of losing all of her hair.
But Charlie wasn’t ready for that step just yet. He picked up the massage oil, already warm from the sun. Breathing in, it smelled like Ann. Sweet soft vanilla – a deceptive contrast to the spicy passion of Ann aroused. He drew a little face on her breasts with the oil and began to massage it in. She only smiled when he asked if it felt good, arching up as it trying to stretch against her restraints.
For as relaxed as her body was, Ann’s mind was racing. Charlie hadn’t touched her hair yet and they had been together for hours. In his sea bag she had only seen the clippers and straight razor. No scissors. Would this be the time? Was he planning on taking it all? When it started would she cry out for him to stop? Or would she finally speak and scream for him to shave her head bald? A small tear slid from her eye and soaked into the black silk of the blindfold. A fact that did not go unnoticed by Charlie.
Charlie leaned in and kissed Ann. Sliding up the blindfold, he kissed her again where the tear had been and looked deeply into her eyes. The amber flecks were gone, replaced by dark soulful brown. With a husky whisper, barely heard over the waves, he said it was time to do her back.
With the blindfold laying abandoned on the deck, Charlie removed Ann’s restraints and she rolled over. He couldn’t resist a quick swat to her butt and she grinned at him over her shoulder. With the restraints back in place, Charlie resumed Ann’s massage. She rested her face in the headrest of the massage table and watched the breeze blow the blindfold out of view. Then she closed her eyes and relaxed under Charlie’s hypnotic touch.
He must have spent fifteen minutes on her feet, massaging the sweet warm oil into her heels. He kissed her arches and sucked on her toes as if they were her clit. He was amazed by the muscles in her calves as her slowly worked his way to her bottom. He slid his hand between her legs from behind, fingering her bare wet pussy, knowing that he would end the night with his dick buried in all that wonderful wet heat. He brushed his lips across the small of her back and she moaned softly but did not move. Ten minutes of massaging her back followed and Ann’s breathing became even and peaceful. When he slid his hands into her hair, she didn’t tense up. If anything, he thought he saw her shoulders relax even further. He buried his face in her nape and told her he was going to use the vibrator now. Ann replied with a mmmmmmm.
Ann felt Charlie retrace his earlier steps with the vibrator. First her feet and toes… then the muscles of her calves, her thighs and her bottom. He held it for a moment near her pussy and he watched her muscles contract with pleasure. He spent lots of time on her back and then her neck. She felt him lean in on her, breathing in the scent of her hair, the vibrator settled on her neck. Realization came about the same time the vibration reached her crown and she opened her eyes to watch through the table’s headrest as her hair fell to the deck and was carried out of sight by the wind.
For all of the anticipation of Ann’s reaction, he was surprised that there was none. And he stopped. The two inch wide strip of chocolate fur lay in the midst of longer locks. Her scalp was barely visible from having used a guard with some length to it. He removed the cuffs that held her to the table and pulled her to him.
Once again Charlie searched Ann’s eyes, glistening from the tears that were pooled up in them. They were salty on his lips. For a fleeting moment he wished he could put her hair back, until she kissed him. In the seemingly hundreds of times that their lips had met before, never had he felt the sense of urgency from Ann that he felt now. She truly hungered for him… his lips, his eyes, his ears, his shorn head, his throbbing cock. Her heart pounded through every pore in her skin.
When she finally pulled away Ann took the clippers from his hand, contemplating them for a moment. Running her fingers over the blades that had just shorn a path up the back of her head. Then, with her voice husky from hours of silence, Ann asked Charlie if he would please finish.
Her hair danced in the wind as she danced with Charlie… with the guard still in her hand.
For Charlie, for awakening me to the possibilities. You are forever my KC. With fond affection, Ann
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