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I had a warm feeling come over me as Mrs. Dickens came into my beauty shop for one of her rare appointments. Mrs. Dickens was in her late fifties. Even at her age, she had the longest and thickest hair of any of my customers. The last time she paid us a visit, it was almost past her knees. It was now a dark gray with bright silver highlights. She normally braided her hair and pinned it in a huge coil at the back of her head. Although she was rather tall and thin, with striking facial features, her hair was her most distinctive trait.

Occasionally she would make an appointment to have her hair put up in an up-swept style for a elegant party or a formal business function with her husband. Otherwise, every six months she would come in to have the ends trimmed. She had to stand in a chair for me to give her a trim. She loved the attention as all the customers in the shop raved over her hair. Saying things like. “I could never let it get that long, I don’t have the patience.” or “How do you have the time to care for that much hair.”

Mrs. Dickens would simply say, “Every girl has to play up her best feature and men go wild over gals with long hair.” She had told me, in confidence, that her husband literally loved her long hair and had made her promise never to get it cut. She had been letting it grow since they got married.

As for me, I could count on working on her hair for almost two hours if she wanted it styled and about half that if she wanted it trimmed. It was almost six o’clock and I wanted to close my shop by seven on a week night.

“Mrs. Dickens, how can I help you?” I asked.

“Can we talk someplace in private?” she replied anxiously looking around at the other people in the shop and clutching a package under her arm.

“Sure, let’s go to a room in the back.”

We went to the rear of the shop and ran one of my beauticians out of our break room.

As I fixed coffee Mrs. Dickens began to cry. “My husband ran out on me and is now filing for divorce. He left me for a girl in his office. She is only twenty-three. He has been sleeping with her for over a year and taking her on business trips with him.”

“I am sorry,” I assured her, taking her hand.

“I have a special favor to ask you. I know this may sound strange, but I am determined to do this one thing…” she began sobbing.

“Just ask. If I can possibly do it, I will.”

“I want you to cut all my hair off!” she gasped through her tears.

“You have been keeping your hair long for years and a shorter cut might make you feel like a new woman.”

“You don’t understand!” she stopped crying and said, “I’m not talking about a new style, I want it all cut off! I want my head shaved!”

“But, Mrs. Dickens, don’t you think you are going too far.”

“The bastard I married left me without a thought. Almost forty years I did everything to make him happy. For almost forty years I let my hair grow so he could have it wrapped around his dick. Tomorrow we meet to sign the papers, and I want to get rid of this guy once and for all.”

“Shouldn’t you think this over a little more? Let me cut it as short as you want, then sleep on it.”

“If you don’t do it,” she said angrily “I will either find someone to do it, or I’ll cut it myself.” She took a pair of styling scissors off the table and grabbed at her bun.

“Stop!” I yelled. “You seem determined to go through with this, no matter what. I’ll make you a deal. If you promise not to do anything rash, like shave your own head, I will do it. The only thing I ask is that you come back in an hour and a half. I would prefer that the other customers didn’t see this. I don’t know what it would do to business.”

“Its a deal,” she said drying her tears. ” I have bought a wig, a short style. No one will know, except you and my husband.”

After she left the time seemed to drag on and on. The customers took forever getting done and the operators stayed around to chat. I felt dread and excitement all rolled into one. Should I try to change her mind once more or should I just do it. I had cut some women’s hair extremely short in the past, but I had never shaved a woman’s head. How was I going to do it?

I realized that I needed some things. I ran over to the drug store across the street and bought shaving cream, a razor, and some blades. Then I rummaged around in the storage closet until I found an old barber’s clipper that was here when I took over. It was dusty, but with a spot of oil and a wet cloth, the black beast whirred with a throaty growl when I turned it on.

Whether to cut her hair short with scissors first, then use the clippers, and then shave her head went through my mind. “Maybe I should cut her braided ponytail off, then use the clippers?” I asked myself. “How about taking her hair down, unbraiding it, brushing it out, cutting it with scissors, clipping it, then shaving?” I decided that would take too long. “I’m not ready for this!”

My thoughts were broken by a tap at the shop’s back door. I let Mrs. Dickens in. “Is everyone gone?” she whispered. I nodded yes. She was dressed in a cocktail dress. “I went home and changed. I didn’t know what to wear, so I decided to go formal.”

“Are you sure you are up to this?” I ask.

“Damn it, I am sure!” she growled. “Now let’s get on with this. I’m tired of wasting time.”

“Not another word,” I promised. “Have a seat at my station.”

After she had sat down I draped her. “Do you want to keep your hair after I’m done?”

“Throw it away. I don’t want it any more.”

“I thought if you wanted to keep it and maybe have a wig made from it, I would cut your braid off.”

“Just do it the quickest way possible.”

I pulled the pins out holding the coiled pins in place and let her grey rope unroll slowly in my hand. It kept coming and coming. Finally, after all the pins were out, I let it fall. The end stopped about a foot from the floor. This was the longest head of hair that I had ever cut in my eight years as a cosmetologist and the first time I shaved someone’s head.

“Okay, I am going to clip your hair off first, then shave your head,” I said picking up the large black Oster clipper. “Tilt your head back just a little.”

“Do you want to watch? I can turn the chair around if you had rather not.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I am so excited. I feel all bubbly inside.”

Returning to her back I took the coarse thick plait in one hand and the clipper in the other. I pulled the braid tight feeling her neck muscles creating tension. She had a smirky smile as I flipped the switch. It sounded like there were a hundred humming birds in the room.

I stuck the clippers in at her widow’s peak and the clipper made a rasping sound as it slowed down. I plowed a path about six inches back into her scalp as the loosened locks fell to one side. I started another swath to left of the first. I looked in the mirror at Mrs. Dickens and saw tears rolling down both cheeks.

I cut the clippers off. “It’s too late now. Let me get you a tissue.”

She wiped the tears away and looked back into the mirror. “Get it done,” she said with determination.

I wrapped the braid twice around my sweating hand and cut the clipper back on. “Tilt your head back farther this time. It’s hard to tell what I’ve cut.”

Her head came back and the two hanks of severed hair flopped back out of the way. A light grey stubble was underneath. The clippers seemed to grind as the mowed through her hair. Finally I eased the heavy clipper across her temple and as close to her left ear as I could. I was becoming more comfortable with this new tool as I cropped through the right side. In less than three minutes half her hair was gone.

“You can tilt your head down a little bit,” I told her. Only then did she get a good look at the damage I had done.

She gasped, then straightened herself up in the chair and tossed her head. The earlier smile returned. “I can hardly control myself. Hurry!”

I brushed the severed ends back away from her s
calp and cut the clippers on again. Up and over the back of her head they went to where the braid started. Then back up and then down. With each stroke the tangled ends of hair got thicker and thicker.

Finally I clipped out behind each ear and began mowing down her neck. “Oh God, that feels good!” she moaned.

The clippers hacked away the last stray hairs around her nape and the braid was free. I cut the clippers off and held the lovely grey plait in my hand, looking at it in disbelief. Over four feet of tightly knotted hair with about a foot of random hacked lengths. Things just seemed to stop as I stared at it.

The next thing I knew Mrs. Dickens had one end of the braid and was pulling me over to her. “You’ve done the hard part. Get your head out of your pants and finish me!”

Mrs. Dickens stroked her cheek with the cropped ends and then laid the grey rope across her lap. “I’ll never feel that coolness brushing my cheeks again.”

“It will always grow back.”

“I’ll never let it get long again!”

I cut the clippers on for the last time and made a quick run over her head. This smoothed out the numerous uneven streaks and patches until all that was left was a light grey cloud of stubble where her long tresses had been.

“Done with step one,” I said. “Let’s go back to the shampoo sink and rinse your scalp. That will get this crew cut wet and ready for the razor.”

“How do you think I look?”

“Right now?”

“I mean with no hair.”

“I think that it is sexy in a different sort of way,” I assured her.

As I sat her head back in the shampoo sink she asked. “Would you be turned on by a bald woman?”

“I’ve never really though about it very much, but I think it could get me hot.”

As I shampooed her scalp she reached out from under her cape and unzipped my pants. “Hey, don’t tease, I’m in an odd position like this.”

“I know.” Mrs. Dickens reached into my fly and brought my hard prick out. “How long has it been hard like this?”

“Since you walked through the back door.”

“It must be aching,” she cooed as she picked up the braid and began wrapping it around my dick. “My husband like for me to do this. I call it a hair-job. He would pop all over my hair. I would rub it in like a conditioner. Maybe that’s why was always so thick.”

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to blow more cum on it!”

“I’ll make you happy now if you make me happy later.”

“How about waiting till I’m done, then we can both enjoy this.”

With that her hands returned to her lap. My dick, still wrapped tightly with the grey rope hung out of my pants.

I finished the shampoo, coiled a warm damp towel around her head, and had her return to her chair as I released my dick.

“You don’t want it?” she asked pointing to the plait.

“It’s an interesting souvenir,” I answered. “Don’t you want to keep it.”

“Hell no!”

I laid it on the counter next to my scissors and combs.

“Finish shaving me, I am hot and need to get laid.”

The shaving cream looked like a white swimming cap on her head. Even with the soaking the razor dragged as I pulled it across her scalp. Her shaved scalp was slightly darker than her face. Once I had shaved her complete head I rinsed another towel in hot water and wrapped it around her head. “I want to shave it as close as possible,” I explained. “By tomorrow you will have a five o’clock shadow.”

“I want it as smooth as a baby’s butt when I go to the lawyer’s office.”

“You might have to shave it before you go.”

“Can I get you to do it?”

“We’ll see what can be worked out.”

The second shaving went quickly. The razor slipped across her skin smoothly. After wiping her head I spread a thin layer of lotion over the area that I had shaved. Her skin was as smooth as her cheeks.

“I’m done.” I said taking the cape off.

“Not completely,” Mrs. Dickens purred. “Are you ready for something out of the ordinary. Are you ready for sex with a bald woman?”

“Do you want to go to your place or mine?”

“We’re not going any place, I can’t wait any longer,” she said standing up. “You don’t know what having my head shaved has done to me. Every inch of my skin tingles. I need it now.”

I took her in my arms. We kissed, our tongues battling for control of the other’s mouth. I kissed her ear, her cheek, and then her smooth head. I grobbled trying to get her dress off.

“Here let me,” she interrupted stepping back and unzipping her gown. It fell to the floor showing her black bra, panties, and hose. This oddly bald, but sensuous form unhooked her bra and slid it off her arms. She lowered her panties showing me a thick forest of grey pubic hair that stretched from both hips and made a peak at her navel. As she rolled her stockings off she said, “God my crotch looks out of place, with more hair on it than my head.”

“We can fix that too,” I told her.

“Bald from head to toe?” she thought out loud. Sitting back in the chair she said, “Hell, we might as well. But you had better start soon, I can’t wait much longer.”

The Oster sparked to life again as I plowed four furloughs from her navel down to her slit. A pile of curly pubes accumulated between her legs. My scissors snipped away at the grow that was too close to her cunt to safely take on with my Oster.

As I went to get another warm rag she gathered up these clippings. “Here,” she said handing them to me. “Put these with your other souvenir.”

Shaving her head was a snap in comparison to her pussy. The razor hacked slowing inch by inch. I rolled her lips out with my finger and shaved down the insides of her thighs. Each time my fingers brushed her clit she shuttered. “Hurry, this may make me cum.”

When I finished I wiped her cunt with a warm damp rag. Each time I wiped she closed her eyes, raised her butt off the chair, and moaned quietly.

“Go down on me.” she purred.

“I thought we could go back to…”

“I couldn’t walk a step without cuming. I need it now!”

As I knelt down in front of the chair she took my head and buried it in her smooth pussy. Without any hair I took the outer lips of her slit in my mouth and tongued along the inside crease. Working my way up and down her slit I would stop at her vagina and quickly hollow it out with my tongue.

“I need to come,” she moaned. “Lick my clit now!”

The was no hair to get in my nose as I started sucking an licking her firm clit.

“Finger fuck me too,” she commanded. “Put one in my ass too!”

As my index finger easily slipped into her vagina and my middle finger slowly worked its way into her ass hole she raised up from the chair and shuttered.

“Fuck me hard, Ms Dickens shouted. “Fuck me fast.”

My fingers worked quickly in and out while my tongue laid heavily laps on her button.

“Damn, I’m coming! Sweet baby, I’m coming! It’s so good, I can’t hold back!”

She began gasping for air and heaving back and forth while my mouth tried to stay with her cunt.

“Slow down, baby, slow down,” she whispered. “I thought I was about to die, it was so good.”

Ms Dickens lay there for a few minutes with a smirk on her face. Then she said, “Are you up for a ride?”

“What ever you want to do.”

“I like it from the rear,” she told me as she rolled over in the chair and put her knees up in the seat. “Can you screw me like this?”

Her butt was a little low so I pumped the chair up till it was level with my dick. When my dick touched her butt she grabbed it and jammed it in her pussy.

“Fuck me hard and fast…I like it like that!”

Wap-wap-wap echoed around the salon as my pelvis smashed against her butt. She hugged the back of the chair and pushed off back and forth to match the rhythm of my strokes. Her bald head glowed bright red as we fucked.”

“Oh, I love it from behind,” she cooed. “Too bad you can’t grab onto my hair anymore. I liked playing pony…you could have pulled on my braid and ridden me all day long. This will have to do.”

“Can you cum like this?” she gasped.

“I don’t think so.”

“Would you like me to suck you off?”

“If you have been fucked enough.”

“I’m never fucked enough. But I want to make you as happy as you have made me.”

Slowly we stopped humping. I eased out of her pussy and Ms Dickens rolled out of the chair.

“My legs are so weak, I can hardly walk,” she giggled holding onto the chair’s arm. “Sit down here mister, I’m ready to suck dick.”

We traded places and I spread my legs. Ms Dickens took the long gray rope of hair and coiled it around my dick.

“I’m going to give you a hair-job,” she told me. “I hope you like this as much as my ex-husband did.

Ms Dickens began pumping my dick with one hand while the other rubbed the severed ends of her hair on my balls. The cool hair sent sensuous shivers up my back. I could feel every bump on the braid and she slid her coiled locks back and forth on my shaft.

“How does that feel?”

“Different, but so good!”

“This the last time I’m ever going to do this on a man,” she said. I’ll never let my hair grow out long enough to give a hair-job again.”

Only the head of my dick stuck out from the spiral of grey hair. As her hands manipulated my balls and shaft, her tongue pressed down on the tip of my dick and she began to beat the head with her wet tongue. Slowly she took the head an sucked it into her lips. Her bald head bobbed up and down, stroking what little of my dick that was not covered by hair with her lips. As she sucked the head in and out she licked it hard.

“You are an expert,” I gasped. “No one has ever been this good.”

“Cum baby, shoot it in my mouth.” she said stopping to catch a breath.

“Soon.”

Almost at that moment a surge came over me and I almost passed out. I closed my eyes and felt my dick jerk like is was going to pop off.

Ms Dickens coughed, “Damn, your load almost gagged me. I didn’t know a man could shoot so hard.”

“I had some help.”

She nestled the smooth skin of her head against my crotch and rubbed it against my hair-covered dick.

“I’m going to miss doing this,” she confided. “I’m mostly going to miss my hair against my naked body. I’d sit around in the house with nothing on, but my hair. It was so soft.”

“Too late now.” I said caressing her smooth scalp. “But you do look sexier without hair.”

“You think so?”

“Maybe not to everyone, but to me, keep it shaved.”

“I might do that. For awhile at least.”

“Do you want to go over to my place for the evening?” I asked.

“Is it okay if I spend the night?

“No trouble at all,” I told her. “Besides you will need a shave tomorrow morning before you have your meeting.

We dressed and went to my place. During the night I woke up several times to look at the bald woman next to me. In the moon light her head shone on the pillow. I kissed her scalp and she smiled.

When we awoke the next morning I sat Ms Dickens in a chair, wrapped her head in a warm towel, lathered her head and shaved the stubble down to bare skin.

“Your hair will grow out in no time.”

“Maybe you could keep it shaved for me.”

“If you are set on keeping it shaved, you will need to do it,” I commented. “I can shave it once in a while, but I know what it will lead to.”

“You’ve got that right. I get horny when you shave me. I’m getting hot now.”

Once I had rinsed her scalp she dragged me back to bed. Sex was almost as good as the night before.

I was in a hurry to get to the shop at a reasonable hour so the goodbyes were short. I helped Ms Dickens put on the stocking underliner for her short-curly grey wig. Then showed her how to style her wig to make it look natural.

“Looks just like it’s your own,” I assured her.

“It does look as if I only got it cut short, doesn’t it,” she said admiring herself in the mirror.

We kissed and said your goodbyes.

“I’ll see you when I let it grow out a little,” she promised. “If I let it grow out.”

I arrived at the shop a hour late. My partner, Kathy, was there tapping her foot, crossing her arms behind her and smirking when I got in.

“What in the hell have you been up to?” she questioned coyly.

“Just a late date.”

“Then explain this.” she giggled holding out over four feet of Ms Dickens plaited hair.

“I cut her hair,” I said unemotionally.

“Does she have any left?”

“Not much.”

“I should say!” Kathy laughed holding out the other hand filled with grey pubic hair. “I’d say she didn’t have any hair anywhere.”

“Well, things got a little out of hand here last night.” I half apologised. “It’s a long story. I’ll fill you in on the details later.”

Kathy handed me the hair, “Next time, don’t leave the evidence out for the customers and the hired help to see.”

The rest of the day went along as usual. Every so often my eyes would catch those of one of the female stylists and they would smile knowingly.

About three in the afternoon Ms Dickens came in sporting her wig. No one recognized her at first. When she came up to me and spoke things seemed to click with the other stylists and the shop fell silent.

“Can we talk for a minute?” she asked under her breath.

“Let me finish up with this lady,” I said. “You can go into the back and have a cup of coffee.”

While I dried my client’s hair all the operators, one by one, went to the break room to get coffee and get a look at Ms Dickens.

One came by me afterwards and whispered, “We all figured you had shaved her head too.”

Once I was finished and the customer was gone, I pulled the envelope with Ms Dickens’ hair from my drawer and went to the back.

“How did it go at the lawyer’s today?”

“Great!” she smiled. “I walked in like this and that bastard almost shit in his pants. He couldn’t believe it. After we had signed all the papers, I asked to see him in private. When we were alone, I took off the wig and he almost had a heart attack. As I left I told him, ‘My head is not the only place that’s shaved’ and walked out.”

“I’ve got something for you.” I said handing her the large envelope. “You left it in the shop last night and it caused a real commotion in here today.”

As she looked inside she told me, “I want you to keep it to remember me by.”

She unzipped my pants, reached in and pulled out my dick. She then wrapped the cool braid a couple of times around it. “Keep them in a special place for me.”

I put the hair back into the envelope and walked out to the front. “I’ll see you when I have enough hair to style. Or maybe sooner.”

As we walked through the shop every eye quietly followed Ms Dickens. “Does everyone know?” she whispered out one side of her mouth.

I nodded yes.

Just before she reached the front door Ms Dickens reached up and pulled her wig off and placed it in her purse. You could have heard a pin drop as she walked out, looking like a goddess from an Egyptian painting–proud with her chin cocked defiantly.

As I walked back through the hushed salon I said just loud enough for everyone to hear, “The customer is always right.”

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