Fulfilment of a Fantasy

Fulfilment of a Fantasy

The Fulfilment of a Fantasy by Hairbuzr

As I opened the door to “Mike’s Barbershop” I immediately saw several people ahead of me waiting for haircuts. My wife, Courtney, followed me into the shop and we sat down in chairs near the entrance. I placed my video camera down on a table and noticed my hands were shaking. Mike, of whom I had been a loyal customer for years, looked up from the high and tight he was giving to a teenage boy and said, “It’ll be a while today, John. Seems as though this humidity is bringing people in by the dozens. Maybe it’ll hold off raining for a few more days so business will stay strong! Anyway, I’m expecting Sandy in for work in the next few minutes. She might be able to get to you before I can.” I nodded and looked at Courtney who sat nervously next to me. Mike had no idea she was here for a haircut, not me. Without a word my eyes met with hers and she reassured me by smiling broadly and confidently—she was ready. She ran her fingers through her long dark hair which flowed down her back just reaching her butt. I watched contentedly as she did this and I began to have flashbacks of the experiences we had shared involving her hair over the past ten years of our wonderful marriage.

When we had met, her hair could barely be considered as long enough to qualify for shoulder length status. She wanted to grow it down to her waist, and I didn’t object since I felt she looked great with long hair. Besides, once I saw how much fun we could have with her long hair, playing with it, brushing it, washing it, etc, I bit my lip and did not ask her to cut it short. Nonetheless, Courtney was well-versed on the different clipper guards and the length they produced and other various facets involving the cutting or shaving of hair, due to questions she had asked regarding my many pictures of buzzed women. You see, early on in our relationship I had told her that my ultimate fantasy was for me to watch as she was given a short haircut in a barbershop. Knowing how sexually intense I became once my “obsession” was stimulated, she agreed to one day fulfill this fantasy. However, there was one condition…she would decide exactly how short the cut would be. I thought that was only fair, but I hoped on that she would ultimately decide to go very short because I was curious as to how her sensitive nape would respond to the power of the clippers. Mike soon finished with the boy’s cut and just as he took the cape off, Sandy walked happily into the shop with her chin-length bob bouncing and full of body as she arrived at her station. The light inside the shop reflected off of Sandy’s immaculate, undercut blonde hair. She said hi to Mike and took the next customer. After about 20 minutes, it was my wife’s turn to go, and it was Sandy, not Mike, who was ready for her. “Let’s go, John. You’re up.” Sandy said to me with a smile.

Courtney got up from her place on the couch and slowly walked over to Sandy’s chair, sat down on its red-upholstered bottom and said, “I want a crewcut. I’d like top buzzed with a #2 and the sides and back blended in with a #1. And don’t bother using those at all!”, pointing to Sandy’s 5″ shears.

Sandy smiled and looked at me and noticed I wasn’t laughing. Her grin turned to an open-mouthed look of shock as she realized both my wife and I were serious. (As for me, I couldn’t have been more pleased with my wife’s choice. A crewcut would mean many clipper trims to maintain it, which I would happily volunteer to do.) After about ten seconds, Sandy smiled again, the shock having worn off, and realized how much fun it would be to give my wife this drastic change. She asked Courtney to lift up her hair as she quickly took out a strip of tissue from the dispenser and fixed it around her neck. The touch of the tissue, alone, being placed around Courtney’s neck gave her goose bumps. I would soon find out exactly how pleasurable the sensation of the vibrating clippers would be to her. By this time, Mike had ceased to continue cutting and stood transfixed upon the scene four feet to his left, as did Mike’s customer in the chair. A red pin-striped cape was set in motion by Sandy’s experienced hands and was brought to rest around Courtney with a SNAP at the back of her neck. Courtney, being only 5’1″ tall, needed to be pumped up higher in the chair and Sandy knowingly did so as she positioned her so she faced me and not the mirror.

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“I assume you don’t want to miss any good angles of this show, right John?” Sandy asked me with a huge grin.

“Nope, that’s why I brought our video cam. I’m as ready as a boy scout for this.” I said, now smiling from ear to ear. I turned on the camera and looked into Courtney’s eyes. She smiled back, glanced at my shorts and mouthed the words, “I want you.” I abruptly glanced down, only then realizing the bulge in my shorts. Sandy turned back to Courtney from the counter with clippers in her right hand and a comb in the other. She began brushing Courtney’s hair, taking her time by combing from the crown to the ends with each, deliberate stroke. Courtney thoroughly enjoyed, as did I, this final brushing of ten years’ worth of growth. With a sudden PRRROP from the clippers, Courtney was immediately brought back to the reality of her situation. To my immense pleasure, Sandy did not ask her if she wanted to back out of this predicament. Sandy simply said, and with a rather harsh tone, “Chin down.” She then proceeded to push the clippers from Courtney’s nape to up and over her crown, sending more than two feet of hair slithering down to the cape and then falling to the floor with an audible PLOP. During this initial push of the clippers, Courtney’s eyes closed and an audible “Ohhhhh,” escaped from her lips. In less than ten seconds, my wife had a reverse mohawk.

“Wanna stop here?” Sandy asked her teasingly.

Courtney said a meek, “No,” and so the hungry clippers continued their meal. Sandy started again but this time from the front. She buzzed a path adjacent to the previous one sending more of my wife’s crowning glory falling helplessly to the floor. As Sandy again placed the clippers to my wife’s head and buzzed her remaining bangs off, which were chin length, her body released an involuntary shiver—it was clipper rush!

Having recorded the opening of this terrific scene, I panned the camera over to the other customers who sat wide-eyed and open-mouthed in the waiting chairs around the room. I then directed the camera back to the main event. Within the next 5 minutes Sandy buzzed half of Courtney’s head with the #2 guard. The floor around her chair was littered with long, dark brown, luscious locks, as was Courtney’s lap. The short hair that remained outlined her great head shape. I couldn’t have been happier at this point, and the cut was not even done. Sandy seemed to want this process to go on forever, without objection from me, because I noticed she took her time with Courtney’s remaining long hair. She carefully clipped off locks of hair and placed them in my wife’s lap, which was near the point of overflowing with silky tresses. After what seemed like an eternity, the humming of the clippers came to a halt. My wife’s hands emerged from underneath the cape and went slowly to her head. “It feels like velvet!” she said with a giggle. Sandy wasn’t through though, and she told Courtney so as she switched guards on the clippers. The buzzing commenced and a nice whiteness emerged from underneath the extremely short hair, revealing the paleness of my wife’s scalp.

In no time flat, Sandy was done. Courtney grabbed two handfuls of her hair that lay lifeless in her lap and Sandy took the cape off of her. I took a plastic bag out of my wife’s purse and she placed the hair carefully inside. Looking in the large mirror at Sandy’s station, Courtney’s hands rubbed her head over and over again as she grinned. Courtney skipped over to me and said she loved it and we kissed, my hands delicately running through her nape’s stubble. As I began to do this, she whispered in my ear, “Let’s go home…fast.” I gathered up the camera and plastic sack of hair and handed Sandy a fifty dollar bill and thanked her.

As Courtney and I walked out of the shop, she turned and said, “Sandy, I’ll be back in two weeks for another cut.”

I then turned back to face Sandy and said, “Actually, Sandy, I think I can handle the trimming duties.” Courtney smiled broadly as we hurriedly left the shop, with the customers and Mike still in shock.


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