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It was early on a Saturday morning and the spring breeze was blowing through the window of the car.   I was taking my son Matt to the barber for his monthly cut.  He was never too keen on getting it cut as the barber that my husband had chosen was notorious for giving haircuts shorter than asked for.   My husband was also a customer of “Jimmy’s Barber Shop” and always wore his hair in a very short back and sides way.  

I had been to the shop several times as my husband is frequently out of town on business and leaves it up to me to see to it.  Matt is seven this year and was hoping that his father would let him wear his hair slightly longer, but to no avail.  

“It’s a buzz cut for you young man, until I say different.” Was my husband’s comment.
Matt was very fair haired as I am, and when the barber clips his hair so short it appears that he is essentially bald.  I know my husband expects him to have the “number one buzz” as he calls it and it really leaves nothing behind.

Recently I found that my trips to Jimmy’s were not entirely without some reward, as I had discovered that I enjoyed watching men get their hair cut.  It was a fascinating process that was completely different than my salon cuts.  As I guided Matt through the doorway we took our seat along the side wall, with two other men seated beside us.  They were engulfed in their magazines and the man in the barber’s chair was being clipped short by Jimmy.  

“Mommy, you forgot to take a number.” Matt said meekly.  Jimmy had recently installed a number pad on the wall next to the coat rack and as we were not wearing any coats I had forgotten.  “Can it get it?” He asked.  I nodded and he made his way over the door and tore off a number, just barely within his reach.  “I’m number 17.” he said with a slightly long face.  I could see that he was not looking forward to his haircut by his face.

“Don’t be sad sweetheart, you’ll look good and besides, it’s getting warmer now and it will feel better.”  My comments didn’t seem to raise his spirits.  None of the magazines on the rack were of any interest to me, I had discovered before this trip, so I settled in to watch Jimmy cut.

The man in the chair was in his teens, and was getting a very short cut.  Jimmy was running the clippers up the back and sides of his head with no plastic guide on them at all.  I felt that warm feeling I now got as I watched his baldness appear.  To my surprise Jimmy didn’t switch over to scissors for the top but instead simply ran the clippers over and over the man’s head, in what seemed like all directions.  “There you go young man, is that short enough for you?”  The man nodded nervously as he saw me watching and ran his hand self consciously over his shorn head.  He paid Jimmy and swiftly left the shop.  “Fifteen!”  He shouted.  

The next two haircuts were not too remarkable, and certainly nothing like the first one I had witnessed.  I was getting a little bored in fact by the time Matt’s number was called.
“Seventeen.” Jimmy said as two men stepped into the shop and took their seats adjacent to me.  “Well, hello there Matt, how are you today?” Jimmy smiled and motioned for Matt to step up to the chair.  

“Look Mommy, I took two by mistake.” He handed me a page with the number “18” on it.  Not really thinking about it, I took the number from him and scooted him up to the chair.

“The usual?” Asked Jimmy “Number one?”

“Yes please.” I sat back down in the seat and watched Jimmy peel the hair off my son’s head.  It seemed shorter than usual and as I was about to say something Jimmy turned to me.

“Got some new clippers this month and they cut a little closer than the old ones so a number one may seem a little short but it will grow.”   He continued to shear Matt’s head over and over until he had reduced his light blonde hair to stubble.  Shutting off the clippers, he took the attachment off and clipped on another and started to trim the back and sides.  Higher and higher he went until he was satisfied with the length.  Matt was pretty much bald by the time Jimmy finished with the razor except for a sandpaper finish on the top of his head.  As he stepped down from the chair he felt his head and moped a little as he realized that nothing was really left.

“It’s pretty short Mommy.”  I got a closer look at the way it was cut and it was indeed very short.

“Eighteen.”  Jimmy looked over at me and I realized that I was holding the number in my hand.  “That’s you.”  He looked straight at me.

“This was just a mistake, Matt grabbed two numbers.”  I said nervously.

“I don’t think so. If it was a mistake you would have thrown it away a while ago.  You’ve been holding that number eighteen for twenty minutes.”  He grinned.  “What do you think Matt?”  Looking at my son who was still rubbing his hands over his head.  “You think your mommy here needs a haircut?”

“It is pretty long Mommy.”  He tugged on my shoulder length hair. “I think you should get it cut.”  He giggled.

At that moment I don’t know what came over me but I looked at my son’s head, and then at Jimmy, and as if under their own power my legs pushed me up out of the chair.  Jimmy spun his chair around to meet me and before I knew what was happening, a cape had been fastened around my neck.  Jimmy pulled my hair out of the cape and let it fall loosely around my face.  “I think I know exactly what you want young lady, I’m a fairly observant man you know.”  At that moment I knew he was on to me.  He knew which haircuts caught my interest and he probably knew how I felt about them too.  Jimmy leaned in and whispered in my ear.  “All off?” My eyes must have almost jumped out of their sockets, but I was seemingly powerless to do anything but nod.  Inside my head I was screaming but it was too late.  A very high whine had started up behind me, one I had not heard before.  Jimmy came around the front and I glanced at the bright chrome clippers as he placed them momentarily at the top of my forehead. “Sure?” he asked and as I nodded my hair began to spill down the cape.  Somewhere in the distance I could hear Matt giggling but I was lost in another world.  Just as he had done to the young man earlier, he ran the clippers over my head in every direction.  The cool steel felt very foreign against my scalp and then as suddenly as it began it stopped and there was silence.  I sat in complete shock and was about to get out of the chair when I  felt something warm being spread on the sides of my head and then the back. It was shaving lather.  Way up at the crown of my head I felt the tug of a razor as it was drawn down the entire back of my head.  Slowly, Jimmy worked his way around one side, and then the other.  Again I could hear Matt giggling in the background.  After Jimmy had finished shaving and wiped the excess off, he once again picked up some clippers.  These were very small indeed, and barely made any sound at all.  “Just finishing up” Jimmy said as he ran the clippers over the top of my head.  Very tiny bits of hair were falling everywhere as he did.  For the first time I noticed that the two men in the chairs were no longer reading their magazines, but instead were watching me.  Having criss-crossed my head several times with the small clippers, Jimmy then came around in front and placed a small comb into my left eyebrow. “Eyes closed” He said and I f
elt the clippers run over the comb making a clicking sound.  He once again lifted the comb into the brow and the clippers followed.  He did the same to my right brow.   “All finished.” As he began to loosen the cape Jimmy spun the chair around so I was facing the mirror for a moment and I briefly saw myself.  There was a moment of complete shock as I tried to take in what I had just seen.  I didn’t dare look back, but I had to.  As I stood up from the chair I wobbled a little and then stood square with the mirror.

There was nothing.  Nothing at all.  My head was completely bald.  I instinctively ran my hand over my head. The sides and back were like glass and the top like the finest dusting, only enough that it wasn’t smooth.  My eyebrows were basically gone having already been very fair and my ears stuck out from my head like spoons.  I was suddenly overcome with panic.  What would my husband think, my friends, my family, my.

“Gee Mommy, your hair is even shorter than mine.”  Suddenly I was pulled back from the brink of tears.  “Can we go home now?”  I smiled at him and nodded. 

“What do you think of your mommy’s haircut Matt?” Jimmy laughed.

“It’s pretty short, shorter than mine.” He giggled.

“How much do I owe you Jimmy?” I asked timidly, reaching into my purse.

“Matt’s cut is eight dollars but yours is twenty.” I smiled and handed him forty and began to head for the door.  “You’ll need that cut every week.” I turned and smiled again with a nod.  I was suddenly feeling very good, very good indeed.  I slipped out the door with Matt on my sleeve and headed for the car and my impending embarrassment. 

When we arrived home I told Matt to go play with his mates next door and as he got out of the car he looked at me and giggled as he ran off.

I hurried into the house and up the stairs, locking myself in the bath. I slipped out of my clothes and underwear and stood looking at my reflection in the full length mirror behind the door.  By now I was streaming down my thighs but I didn’t dare touch it or I would have an orgasm instantly and I wanted this feeling to last.  I leaned into the mirror closely and examined my head and its smoothness, my eyebrow stubble and my protruding ears and let out an audible moan as an orgasm coursed through my body.
 
Soon afterwards the reality of what had happened began to sink into my bones and I was once again filled with the fear of embarrassment.  Funny though, every time I thought about how embarrassed I would be I would become aroused again.  When my husband arrived home and heard the tale he laughed uncontrollably for what seemed like an eternity, rubbing his hand over my bald head.  I knew I must have turned every shade of red imaginable. Our lovemaking that night was better than ever and he just couldn’t keep his hands off my head. 

Soon the stubble began to appear and the shock to friends and family was past and I began to feel like it was all just a good experience.  My husband was going back out of town the following day and as he was going out the door he rubbed Matt’s bobbed head.

“I think we can let you start wearing your hair a little longer young man, what do you say?”  Matt smiled ear to ear and ran up to his room to watch out the window, something he always did as my husband left.  He leaned in to kiss me.  “You on the other hand need to go to Jimmy’s.  When I got my haircut yesterday I told him you’d be there Saturday morning.  I told him to go a little shorter this time.”   

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