Dream Coming True

Dream Coming True

A Dream Coming True by EddyZ.

When I am brushing my long wavy hair this morning I realize that it might be the last time that I’m doing this for a long time. The latter half of my life, I am 32 now, I’ve had long hair. Since the age of 16 only half an inch of the lenght has been trimmed every now and then to cut the split ends.

But within half an hour one of my friends, Carlo, will collect me to accompany him to a barbershop. A barbershop! I’ve never yet seen one from the inside! Would he come?

It had started yesterday when we met at our usual hang-out.

“What would you say when I shaved my head?” he had asked.

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“You won’t do that,” I had laughed. He has beautiful thick curly brown hair.

“If I do would you shave yours too?” he had enquired.

“Sure,” I had said. I couldn’t imagine that he had been serious.

“I am serious,” he had warned me, “So think before you answer.”

“I did answer you,” I had smiled. I didn’t like a shameful retreat.

He had scrutinized me for a minute or so.

“Diana, I’m serious, I’m not joking.”

Carlo is impredictable. You never know if he means what he says or not.

“Of course. I’m neither.” He must be teasing me. And testing! Well, I didn’t intend to make myself known!

“So you are going through with it? Then I’ll come to collect you tomorrow morning at nine thirty.”

“You are wellcome, Carlo.”

I expect him to call me, telling me it is a joke. It is nearly half past nine and I keep an on the telephone. Then the doorbell rings: Carlo!

“Hi, girl!” Although he is 24, so eight years younger than myself, he treats me like a youngster. “Did you sleep well?” He looks at me with a mischievous expression on his face.

Strang, I don’t remember anything about the past night. Did I sleep all the time?

“Are you ready? You know we have an agreement, don’t you?” Yes I do. Is he still teasing me? It makes me nervous, I walk between hopes and doubts.

With his car we drive into town, park at the lot of the mall, walk towards a barbershop, a small one. Only two chairs, an elderly man and ditto woman, a married couple? They have customers in the chairs and we sit down in the waiting area.

“You are next.” The barber points to Carlo.

Carlo rises and climbs into the big barberchair. I still cannot believe that he will fulfil his intention.

“What can I do for you?”

“All of and a headshave.”

‘No problem,” the barber declares in a careless manner.

My heart sinks and my mouth feels dry, while I look on how a cape is draped over Carlo’s shoulders and fixed. The barber switches on a pair of clippers and puts them on Carlo’s hairline. Easily he mows through his hair. I look on with awe and don’t realize that the woman has finished her client. But Carlo notices when the barber turns his chair.

“Hey, my friend is here for a haircut too,” he says.

Suddenly my heart starts to pound. He is not teasing me! The reality of the situation sinks into my mind! The woman beckons me to take place in her chair. Reluctantly I saunter with shaking knees towards her….

She puts a cape around my shoulders.

“Normally I don’t cut woman’s hair,” she states. “Do you want me to cut off the split ends?”

Carlo answers before I’m able to say anything.

“She wants all cut off and her head shaved just like me.”

Alarmed the woman looks at me: “Is that what you want?”

“I’m afraid I have to.”

She hesitates and looks doubtful, shakes her head.

“I don’t know. John, say something,” she says to the barber.

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asks.

Carlo gives me a warning look.

“Yes, I am.”

“Okay, let’s do it.”

The woman brushes my hair for the last time, draws a central part. She takes a pair of huge clippers in her right hand, switches them on and grabs with her left hand all of my hair on the right side. She starts at the hairline and moves the machine backwards over my scalp. Soon all the hair in her hand comes loose. Carlo asks to turn my chair towards him and with a lathercovered head he looks at me, being bald on the right side while all of my hair on the left is intact, hanging down nearly to the floor. But soon that has gone too. My head is lathered and shaved, wiped clean and rubbed in with an oily lotion which makes it gleam.

Carlo has paid, he kisses my bald pate and we leave the shop. Every breath of wind feels cold and people are gazing at us. We reach the car and Carlo drives to my place.

We rub each others domes, embrace, hug and kiss each other, Carlo’s hand disappears underneath my short skirt and rides up my thigh, pulls down my panties and …….says: “I want you hairless; I’m going to shave off that bush.”

He carries me to my bedroom, fetches scissors, razors and shaving cream from my bathroom and cuts and shaves my pubic region smooth and clean. He makes love to me for the first time since I know him…..Our fucking is terrific; never before I had such tremendous orgasms…..

I wake up. Carlo isn’t here. My hand travels up to my head and is buried in a mass of hair. My head has not been shaven! I have dreamed it all!

I should feel relieved. But I am not pleased. On the contrary, I’m frustrated

I remember how the humming and vibrating clippers, moving over my head, thrilled me. How the scratching of the razor, scraping away any vestiges of my hair, sent shivers up and down my spine. And last but not least, how the tremendous sex with Carlo had brought me to ecstacy. All this only a dream, fake? It makes me sad. It is not fair!

But would this be worth the loss of my hair? Oh, I have been afraid that I couldn’t match up to it. Now I know better!

No more time for reflection. The doorbell. Quickly I put on a gown and seeing it is Carlo I open the door. His head is shaven!

“Hi girl! I want to show my new haircut, my summercut. What do you think?”

“What I think? I think we had made an agreement. You should collect me this morning to visit a barber.’

“That is not what I have said. Idid say that I should come to collect you, never mentioning going to a barber. Do you really think that I planned to take you to a barber? That is no girlbusiness.”

“Why?” I shout angry. “Is it a prerogative of men to shave their heads? Are we inferior?”

“Of course not, but it is different for women. It is not done for girls”

“Ah! I can name a lot of women who had their heads shaved: Demi Moore, Sigourney Weaver, Persis Khambatta, Joan Chen, Bai Ling and many more>”

“Those actresses had to do it as the role they played demanded this.’

“What is the difference? Thet shaved their heads and that’s that.”

“Diana, you wouldn’t really believe that I should take you to a barber, would you?”

“You lied to me! You told me that you were serious>”

“I wanted to tease you.”

“Then you lied.”

“I’m sorry. How can I make it up?”

“We have a valuable agreement,” I say obstinately.

Carlo sighs. ” You really want to go through with this stupid undertaking.?”

“Yes, I do!”

He looks at me: “You will regret this. But so it be, put on some clothes and come with me.”

“Wait, I have a better idea. You are going to do it.”

“Me?” he asks amazed ”

“Yeah, to make it up with me. Then I’ll forgive you.”

“Do you have clippers?” He clearly hopes that I have to deny.

“No, but I have scissors, razors and shaving cream.”

“Are those scissors suitable for the purpose?”

“You can cut hair with any scissors if they are big enough. I have them in the kitchen. Come on, there is no need for clockwork precision, just cutting off the lot.”

“I can’t believe that you want to do this.” He shakes his head.

“Carlo, it is you who started this, now you have to take the consequences.”

I take him with me to the bathroom. Carlo is still reluctant, he doesn’t like it at all.

“Diana, must we go on with this?” he asks beggingly.

“I am not going to chicken out, Carlo,” I say while I gather my hair into a ponytail high at my crown and tie it near to my scalp. “Come on.’

“I need a towel,” he says.

“No, that is not necessery. I want to feel my hair falling down.”

Slightly hesitating I take off my gown. Underneath I only wear my panties. Carlo gasps…..Never before did he see so much of my naked body.

“You may start,” I say, sitting down on a stool and handling him a pair of big scissors with six inches long blades.

Carlo grabs my ponytail and starts cutting it off. It is a thick ponytail and it takes quite a few minutes before he has severed it. He holds the two and a half feet of hair in front of my eyes. When I don’t show any emotion he puts itdown on the table and attacks my now shortened hair that has surrounded my face. I miss the sensation of the clippers, running along my scalp, instead I hear the snipping sound of the scissors, cutting off my hair. Carlo grabs a fistful of my hair, pulls draws it tight and cuts. Grab-pull-snip-snip-snip, grab-pull-snip-snip-snip……..Strand after strand is cut off and slides over my shoulders and legs towards the floor. It takes a lot of time before all the longer hair has gone , the remnants being very uneven, though short. Carlo shortens them still more and at last he seems satisfied. I notice that he has got as aroused as myself. He gives me a handmirror, saying: “You look like a hedgehog.”

I give my reflection a quick look. “I look awkward. Shave it off, please.”

“Let’s ask the public,” he says in jest. “Hey folks, what shall we do with the girl?”

“Shave her!” I shout laughing, joining in the game.

Carlo spreads shaving cream om my head and makes lather with a wet brush, lathering every part of my scalp. He shaves it off together with the short wisps of my remaining hair, lathers my head a second time. Now the meticulous scraping and scratching begins and just as in my dream the shivers are coming up. Carlo is now clearly enjoying his job!

He wipes my head clean and rubs a lotion into my scalp.

I cannot wait and kiss him passionately, pushing my nude body to his. Now for the sex!

I seduce him and that offers no difficulty. He is as horny as myself!

“Have you forgiven me?” he asks

“Yes, but I want you to do one more thing. Fuck me!”

“That is no sacrifice, honey,” he says, lifting me and carrying me to my bed. He pulls down my panties.

“But I want to do one thing more too: shave away your bush.”

“Of course,” I say. It is in accordance with my dream. I spread my legs without embarrassment. My students should se me lying in this position! Carlo cuts most of my hair away, lathers the region and shaves it clean.

And then…….it is all in accordance with my dream. I think that I have squeaked and squealed……ecstacy!

But duty calls! Though I’ve !ost any notion of time I’m supposed to give a lecture at two o’clock to one of my classes at the School of Dramatic Art. I rise and stroll to my bathroom to take a shower. The trickles of the water on my bald dome constitute a tremendous sensation! I dress and ask myself what to do with my head and decide to cover it with a scarf. Of course it is visible that there isn’t much underneath but I’ll let them guess. What will my srudents say? And my colleagues?

I enter the class where everyone is present. There is a hush, everyone is looking at me. I say: “I’ve cut off my hair, I shaved my head.” In the mean time I pull off my scarf.

An uproarious Oh and Ah breaks out. Some are upset, others laugh.

“My god, why did you do that!” a boy asks, when the noise decreases.

I tell them my dream and my wish to make it come true. I tell them about the emotions evoked by the vibrations of the clippers, the snipping sounds of the scissors and the scraping of the razor. And the formidable sex which followed. I tell them everything, only leaving out the name of Carlo.

They listen amazed, bothered and bewildered. But there is excitement too.

“I think you look gorgeous,” a girl says.

But not everyone thinks so. Some deplore that I have sacrified my long wavy hair.

“Diana, you are an object of art yourself,” a boy shouts. Others agree.

“So I should be exposed? As a living statue?”

“Not a static statue. You should seek places where people are gathered and mingle with them. A walking statue.”

“Well, I’ll walk around here, but let’s start with our lecture about the history of art.”

After my lecture one of my students, Maureen, comes to me.

“I admire your courage, though I don’t understand. A dream? And that’s all?”

“Maureen, maybe a psychoanalyst could give a reasonable explanation but I don’t care. I wanted to experience how it feels to shave my hair off and I did it.”

“Well, whatever the reason, I don’t think that I would ever have the guts.’

“Oh, I think you would find them if you really would have a good reason.

Later I meet some of my colleagues and with them too the opinions differ. The dramateacher tells me that for the next semester, after the summerholidays, she intends to rehearse a play with her students in which a girl has to shave her head. Up till now she has been reluctant to make the suggestion towards the girl she has in mind.

“Do I know her?” I ask

“Yes, she is in your class too. A petite girl with brown curly hair, Maureen Jenkins. After you did shave your head I think I will talk her into it.”

“I wish you luck.” I say smiling but don’t tell her what Maureen has said to me.

Sometimes I think that everything has not happened and that I’m still dreaming. But when I awake in the morning finding Carlo next to me and feeling no hair on my head I am sure that it is reality!

The end.

 

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