My Brother’s Girlfriend By Mobmij
My brother started going out with Anne when I was 18. She was a pretty, perky blonde – the cheerleader type. He had gone out with prettier girls in high school and in college, but Anne was the first one he really seemed stuck on.
After they had been seeing each other for a few months, Anne’s birthday was coming up. I overheard them in the hallway, whispering about it. (Yes, I was spying – but that’s what kid sisters do.) She asked him, “So, what are you getting me for my birthday?” He said, “So, what do you want?” For the record, my brother Eddie was (and is) a very sweet guy and a good athlete, but he just never had much going for him in the way of brainpower, especially when it came to quick comebacks. Anne’s question caught him flat-footed. But I sensed from Anne’s reaction that that was just fine with her, cause she whispered something in his ear that I couldn’t hear at all. It didn’t take long to figure out what it was she asked for though.
A couple of days later, I was walking home from school, and I passed Pete’s Barber Shop. There was Eddie sitting in the barber’s chair, with Anne standing next to him, talking to Pete. Anne put her hand in Eddie’s thick brown hair and said something that made Pete shrug his shoulders. Then Pete said something to my brother, and Eddie nodded. At that point, Pete stood behind Eddie and blocked my view. When I could see past Pete again, most of Eddie’s hair was on his shoulders or the floor. What was left wasn’t much of anything, at least not from a back view. And Pete kept running these big black clippers up the back and sides of Eddie’s head. Anne had a funny look on her face. I felt a little funny too. You have to understand that I had been pretty well-sheltered. Even though I was 18, I’d never been out on a date or had a boyfriend. My friends (I only had a few) were a lot more forward and with-it than I was. I hadn’t even started shaving my legs yet (Mom was real conservative about stuff like that), which made gym class pretty uncomfortable, with all the teasing I got.
That night, after Eddie had shown off his new crewcut to Mom and Dad, Anne came over. Eddie looked good, in a ’50s kind of way, and it was summertime. He had more hair on the sides and back than I thought he would from the way it had looked in the shop, and the top had a flattened look at the front. He looked awfully clean-cut, with his ears sticking out and his hairline all shaved down at the neck. Mom and Dad went out – I forget where – and I went up to my room to do homework. After a while I came down for a snack. I looked into the family room cause it seemed awfully quiet. There was Anne on the couch with her skirt up and her legs in the air. Eddie had his head between her legs, and Anne was moaning real low and rubbing Eddie’s head. When he pulled back, I saw Anne naked from the waist down – except I didn’t see any hairy patch. Anne had light blonde hair, but there should have been something there between her long legs. But there wasn’t. That made me feel really funny. And it made me want to do something.
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I didn’t have the guts to do it for a while. It took a few weeks. Anne still kept coming over. She started to cut Eddie’s hair herself. She did a good job. They’d be in the kitchen sometimes, Eddie with a sheet tied around his neck, and Anne with this big buzzer thing. She clipped the sides and back closer than Pete the barber had, but she did a better job on the flat part on top somehow. She really took her time with that, buzzing over and over with this big flat comb till it was just right. I think Eddie liked it cause she had to stand right in front of him to do it, right between his legs, leaning into him.
One day, Anne came over when no one was home but me. I told her Eddie would be back in a few minutes – even though I knew he wouldn’t – and asked if she wanted to wait for him. Anne had waited for him before, so she sat down and turned on the TV to wait. I went upstairs.
A few minutes later I came back down. “Say, Anne,” I said. “Would you mind helping me pick out a bathing suit. I bought two, but Mom said I have to return one.”
“Sure,” she said.
When Anne came up to my room, I was wearing a yellow two-piece bathing suit. It was nothing too revealing, but the bottom was the skimpiest I had ever worn.
“What do you think of this?” I asked. I stood there and tried to strike a pose, with my arms up and my hands in my hair. Anne looked at me and smiled.
“Well,” she said, “I like the suit a lot. But we’ve gotta do something about this.” And she pointed at my underarms. Just like I thought she would.
You see, I’m pretty hairy. I have thick black hair and real dense dark body hair, especially under my arms and down there. I let Anne get a real good look.
“What should we do?” I asked innocently.
“We’ve gotta get rid of it, that’s what. And I’m not sure a razor is gonna get through this mess without pulling and hurting.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, what about using the hair clippers to start. They’re over here in the bathroom.”
Right where I’d put them.
Anne and I went into the bathroom. I handed her the clippers, and she did something to the blade. Then she plugged them in and started them up. The “hmmmmmmm” as they snapped on vibrated all through my body. She lifted up my right arm and pressed the clippers gently against my underarm. I hardly felt anything – just a little tickle – but I saw this wispy black spiderweb of hair float to the floor as I watched in the mirror. She had to go back and forth with the clippers a couple of times at different angles. Then she did the same under my left arm. When I put my arms back down, it felt all raspy and rough. Anne must have known what I was thinking.
“Don’t worry. We’re not done yet,” she said.
Then she lifted my right arm again and rubbed shaving cream gently onto the buzzed stubble. Then I felt a raspy sandpapery sensation as the razor scraped away the tiny hairs. Anne had to work pretty hard, pressing the razor against my skin. Like I said, I’m pretty hairy. Then she did the same on the left side, very gently.
“How does that feel?” she asked. As she asked, she caressed my now-bare underarm with the back of her hand. “Good,” I said. A little sticky though.”
“Let me finish rinsing.”
Anne reached behind me and undid my bikini top. I had been hoping she would. She took a washcloth and some warm water and slowly wiped away the shave residue. It felt good. And when she wiped my left side, she stood on my right and reached across my body and rubbed the back of her hand against my breasts. It was just what I wanted her to do. I think she knew that.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Still not done,” she replied. “Leg up please.”
I put my left leg up on the sink. Anne lathered it and shaved it with long tender strokes, all the way up the thigh. It took a while to finish, cause she had to keep rinsing the razor out. Then she did the other leg. I was feeling very grown-up and womanly.
“Still not done,” she said, pointing at me.
Black pubic hair burst out on either side of the bikini bottom, standing out in front of the bright yellow fabric.
“You can’t wear that suit looking like that,” Anne said.
So I slid off the bikini bottoms and said, “Show me how this part is done. What gets shaved?”
“Well, I think it’s easiest just to take it all off. That’s what I do. Sit please.”
I sat on the edge of the tub. Anne had to stretch the cord of the clippers all the way, but there was just enough slack. Then I felt the clippers against my skin down there. I thought it might hurt, but there was just a gentle buzzing feel. Anne knew what she was doing, being very careful around all the nooks and crannies. A nest of black hair peeled off me under the blades. Then another. Then the blades felt cool against my skin and the sound of the buzzing changed.
“There. How’s that feel?” But instead of letting me answer, Anne put her hand between my legs and rubbed me where I’d been clipped. It had that same raspy sandpapery feel and her hand felt good touching me. I looked down and saw mostly skin, but coated in a short black stubble. It looked a little messy.
“Are you going to shave me?” I asked.
Instead of answering, Anne filled her hand with shaving cream and finger-painted my crotch with lather. Then she shaved me clean, slowly and carefully, going with the grain, she explained. The short shaving strokes pulled just a little. It took a long time, but I didn’t want it to stop. Finally, she was finished.
“There. All done.” I felt all smooth and slippery under my own hands. I could feel things down there that I’d never felt before.
But I didn’t want to be done. Everything had gone as planned so far. I hoped I had the nerve to finish.
“You know, Anne. I’m a little tired of dealing with all this hair. And it’s gonna be a pretty hot summer. Can you cut my hair too?”
I could see Anne liked the idea. A lot.
“Sure,” she said. “But I don’t think I can do anything fancy. What did you have in mind?” She put down the clippers and picked up a pair of scissors, making that snick-snick sound a barber makes.
“You may not need those. I want my hair just like Eddie’s.”
Anne’s eyes popped open real wide. “Um, OK,” she said. “Sit down here. Do you have a sheet?”
“Let’s not bother,” I said. “I’m naked. I’ll just hop in the shower when you’re done.”
Anne put down the scissors and fiddled with the clipper blades again and stood behind me. Then she pressed my head forward pretty hard and clicked on the buzzer. I felt it pass underneath my hair (which I kept a little past chin length) in the back, and I felt the hair melt away as the blades moved up my nape. Something soft tumbled down my back. Then it happened again. And again.
Anne moved to the side and the buzzing got very loud as the machine passed by my right ear. Something heavy fell on my shoulder and then continued on to the floor. I wanted to touch but I made myself wait. The clippers kept moving over my head, sometimes making a fresh cut that sent mounds of my black hair to the floor and sometimes passing back over a buzzed area, shaving it down smooth and even to Eddie’s military shortness.
After a while, Anne stepped away to grab the big comb and then started pushing the comb into my hair on the top of my head. She pushed and then pressed the clipper against the comb and then the comb was free. Over and over she picked up my hair and then mowed it away. Then she was in front of me, pushing the comb back and sending cascades of my hair down my face. Then the pushing stopped. She combed and combed and I still heard the chewing sound of the clippers, but most of my hair must have been gone. Just little hair ends went flying around.
Anne picked up a little comb and did something to the blades again. Then I felt her combing up the hair on my nape and buzzing little bits of it, tapering it down just like she did to Eddie. At first, I felt only the tiniest resistance to the fine-tooth comb and then none. Just clippers against skin at the edge of my hairline. Then the clippers snapped off.
“Hope you like it,” Anne said. “It sure is a big change.”
I stood by the mirror and ran my hands through my new crewcut. I especially liked the buzzed back, where it started as nothing on my neck and then became super-short stubble and then softer short crewed hair. I kept touching it and rubbing it. I also liked my new shaved-clean underarms.
“Ooh, Anne, I love it.” And I reached out to hug her. And she took me in her arms and kissed me on the mouth, pressing my hand under her skirt. I felt her own two-day stubble under her panties and kissed her back hard.
But the funny thing was…it wasn’t that good. No jolt. No electricity. It was fun, but it wasn’t what I’d pictured or what I really wanted. And as I kissed her, I was thinking about Todd Brown from my algebra class and what it would be like to kiss him.
Anne took my hand and started to walk to the bed, but I pulled away and said “I’m gonna take a shower.” I went into the bathroom and locked the door. I took a long hot shower, and when I was done, Anne was gone. So I cleaned up all the hair and started to think about what I’d tell my parents, who now had two children with short flat-top crewcuts.
Then I thought about Todd again. Friends had told me that he was interested in me. He wasn’t real tall but he was kinda cute and had thick blonde hair down almost to his shoulders. At least for now he did. But I had a birthday coming up.