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In the mid-seventies I was working full time and attending college in Western New York.  I worked for an upholstery shop that specialized in repairing or recovering car seats. I lived in a small efficiency apartment above the shop, rent-free. The weekends were the only break I got from work and study to party.  At that time in my life, 19 years old, the only thing I had on my mind was girls, sex and drinking.

My boss allowed me to take the company’s Ford van on Saturday nights after work when my old car was broke down. This was the case more times then not.  The back of the van was always full of tools and materials for upholstery work. There was one bench seat for the driver and occasional passenger. It was no love van, but it was better then walking. I always drove a distance out of town to pick up girls because all I wanted was a one-night stand and I was honest about it. I was also a little wild and impulsive in those days.  One particular Saturday night I will never forget. The boss went up to the 1000 Islands to stay at his cottage in Clayton. He invited some of his friends to join him for a weekend of fishing; he was staying for a full week. I was in charge until he got back. I had a week’s wages in my pocket. I went bar hopping trying to pick up girls. I decided to try a bar that I never stopped at before called the Gun Smoke; a Country Western Bar that had live bands on Saturday nights It was located about 50 miles from home.  I wasn’t a big fan of Country Music but there were bound to be girls there. I parked the van in the far corner of a near empty parking lot. When I walked in the jute box was playing.

I walked up to the bar and ordered a rum and coke. I asked the bartender were the band was? I was told that the band that was scheduled to play that night stiffed him.  I turned to look the place over and see who was in there. There were mostly middle age married couples sitting in groups, a few couples were dancing.

I didn’t recognize anybody there.  While I was sitting at the bar, a women came out of the ladies room and sat down next to me leaving an empty bar stool between us. She looked to be in her thirties and was dressed in tight Jordache jeans, a white low cut silk blouse and tooled red leather western boots.  She saw that I was watching her and slid over to sit next to me. She held out her hand and introduced herself telling me her name was Becky. I took her hand and told her my name was Tom. I noticed that she was not wearing a wedding ring and that was a good sign and peaked my interest.

Looking her over closer a second time I saw she had blue eyes accented with makeup done to perfection. Becky’s natural honey blond hair was pulled back in a long ponytail and decorated with a red ribbon.  Becky was a good-looking woman that knew how to dress and attract men. I realized she was at least 12 or more years older then I was but that didn’t matter; she was interested and so was I.

We spent a lot of time that night dancing.  Becky liked the slow dances best. While we danced, Becky started teasing me by rubbing her ponytail on the side of my face and neck. I responded by pulling in closer and licking and kissing her behind her ears. While we danced, I gently ran my hands all over her, paying special attention to her firm ass. Becky kept feeding the jute box with my money and I bought all her drinks. I was afraid of running out of money. Between dances we sat and made small talk at a corner table.  While we talked, I noticed that Becky liked to play with her long hair. I moved my chair closer to her and started stroking her long blond ponytail telling her how beautiful I thought her hair looked.  Becky told me I was a sweet boy and I was wasting my time with girls my age.  She was going to show me what a being woman was all about.

We stayed until closing and were the last to leave the bar.  We left the Gun Smoke with my arm around her trim waist because Becky was a little tipsy.   I drank plain cokes after she started rubbing my face with her ponytail. I had to have her. I wanted to be sharp and alert in order to be able to seduce her; I never had a woman her age before and couldn’t chance mistakes. Becky led me to her car and promised to give me head, and that was just a warm-up for things to come.

Becky’s car was a loaded 1976 mint green Lincoln Continental that included a custom stereo system. We put the front bench seat all the way back, and then Becky was all over me. When she went down on me, I wrapped my hand around that thick blond ponytail. This excited her so I used her ponytail liked a horse’s rein to slow her down so the blowjob would last longer. After I came, Becky sat up but looked a little flushed. I asked if she was all right. Before she could answer me, she turned around and vomited all over the floor behind the seat.

I told her not to worry about it. I had some rags and dry cleaning solution in my truck.  When I got back, Becky was passed out behind the steering wheel with the engine idling.  I noticed the glove compartment was open and there were papers and jewelry on the seat and floor. I got in on the passenger side and closed the door. I reached over and shut the engine off and turned on the dome light. Besides expensive gold rings set with large precious and semi-precious stones, there were 2 heavy gold bracelets. Also included in the loose jewelry was a gold wedding band and engagement ring with at least a two-carat diamond. The dropped paperwork included the insurance card, registration, and her husband’s business cards. The insurance card and registration indicated the car was registered to her husband’s business: Jim Banner Ford. My shop does business with Jim Banner and the boss and he are good friends. They were up at the 1000 Islands fishing while Chastity was picking up young men at bars. Picking up married women wasn’t my style. If I had known she was married I would have left her alone. I’m sure you can guess the name on her driver’s license was not Becky, but Chastity, Chastity Banner. The irony of her given name was not lost on me at the time.

I went back to the van and brought back a large pair of upholstery shears and several of stainless steel bowls used for mixing fabric dyes. When I returned a second time, I shook her, but other then moaning a bit, she was out of it. I sat her up, untied her ribbon, and repositioned the elastic band holding her ponytail in place until it was by the nape of her neck at the hairline.

I cut off her long blond ponytail just above the elastic band. Chastity’s now much shorter hair spilled loose, half way down her neck.  Her shorn ponytail was about 20 inches long. Setting her ponytail aside, I arranged her hair in the front so that it fell forward over her face.
 
I tried the stainless steel bowls on her head until I found one that fit just above her ears. Pushing the bowl down firmly, I cut off all the hair sticking out the rim of the bowl, stuffing the cut off blond hair into the glove compartment. I removed the bowl from her head, and tousled her hair to shake out the remaining cut pieces, then smoothed it down. Chastity smiled and giggled, snuggling up to me, but still half asleep and pretty much out of it.

I pushed her back up to a sitting position to admire my work, noticing the silly smile still on her face. Chastity didn’t have a clue what was happening to her or what else was going to happen.

Chastity’s best feature was her beautiful long honey blond hair. It was obviously her pride and joy and well cared for. She loved touching it and having it touched. She used it to attract and entice and arouse. It enhanced her sexual appeal and fed her ego. What remained off her once luxurious tresses was a short, rough-cut bowl of hair on her head just touching her ears. I took a section of her hair and tied the ribbon tightly in place. It look silly and out of pla
ce.

I took all of her jewelry, minus her wedding band; which I put in my pocket, her purse and all the papers including registration and insurance and locked them in the trunk. I went back and took the boots off her feet and locked them in the trunk for good measure. I took her car keys, house keys and drivers license, adding them to the wedding band already in my pocket. On the way home, I stopped a payphone and called her husband’s Ford dealership knowing they had a 24-hour towing service.

The following Monday, I anonymously mailed Chastity’s shorn ponytail to the dealership, addressed to Jim Banner.  Included in that large manila envelope with the ponytail were the house keys, car keys, Chastity’s driver’s license and wedding band.

I found out later through the grapevine, my boss that the tow truck driver made a phone call to Jim at the boss’s cottage. Chastity was made to wait at the dealership until her husband arrived at the dealership to bring her home personally. What a sight she must have been when her husband first saw his faithless wife, shorn of her tresses and shoeless.  When things were sorted out and the pieces came together, Jim threw her out. They eventually reconciled, Jim took Chastity back on his terms and with conditions. I know he made her work at the dealership where he could keep an eye on her and strictly monitored her comings and goings.

I met her by chance in the grocery store nine months after her husband took her back.  I stopped to buy a pound of coffee for an all night study session. I was waiting in line at the only checkout open when Chastity walked up behind me to get in line. I turned to see who was behind me, and there she was. She had on a long blue dress with a white Peter Pan collar and sensible shoes. Chastity’s face was devoid of makeup and her only jewelry was her wedding band.

Chastity’s hair was no longer a beautiful honey blond, it was now dyed plain brown. It was styled in a precise bowl shape that curled under at the bottom and just touching her ears. The remaining hair was cut short to accent the top. Talk about conditions?

Realizing I was staring at her, I smiled, nodded hello. Chastity smiled back and I leisurely turned back around. If she recognized me she didn’t show it. Looking back, I would best describe her demeanor as resigned and subdued.

I waited in my car in the parking lot for her to come out.

I watched her as she walked to her car and opened the trunk.  As she was loading the groceries, I thought she looked somewhat plain and dowdy, a far cry from the sexy confident blond I met in a bar. Chastity closed the trunk and got in her red Ford Pinto. As she drove past, I could see large white letters painted on the sides of her Pinto that said: Jim Banner Ford.

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