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Erica's Story

I was making a list of the various bits and pieces that I had to do before I met Tony for lunch when it struck me that not many of my friends met their husbands for lunch anymore. Met lovers, yes, but not husbands. Maybe they were lucky enough not to have one as controlling as Tony. I planned the best order in which to do the various tasks and decided that the dry-cleaners should be first and the hairdresser's last. That was so that I could relax a bit, knowing that everything was done and I could enjoy my time in there before going round to the restaurant to meet Tony.

I looked forward to going to the salon, listening to the chat that went on. I'd been going there for a couple of years and it felt like they were friends to some extent now. Particularly Amy. She always did a good job and didn't make conversation for the sake of it. She could sense if I wanted just to sit quietly or whether I was feeling a bit more chatty. I also knew that I could leave her to do what needed to be done without worrying what it would look like. She had been such a relief after the butchery experience at the last place I went to! We had talked a little about me going shorter when she had her hair cut recently, but the time wasn't right then. There was some function at Tony's work or something and I just put it off. She suited short hair and although she said "next time, maybe", we didn't do anything about it. I had wondered about talking to Tony about having my hair cut, giving him adequate warning, but again, I had forgotten about it. I quite fancied a change, but I had realised over the years that I needed to prepare the ground and not surprise him with too much. I would never forget what had become known as the "Brazilian incident" when I had got adventurous in the waxing salon and had to prove my whereabouts for the previous two weeks as he thought that I was having an affair. He struggled to believe that I did it for myself, partly out of curiosity and partly out of feeling that a bit of change was no bad thing. His reaction to that taught me that change for him is something not always welcome.

I got through my chores in town more quickly than I thought and ended up with time to look round the shops for a while. I saw plenty of clothes that I liked, but then headed for the bookstore just around the corner from the salon to waste the last couple of minutes. A hairdressing magazine caught my eye and I flicked through it for a few moments, wondering whether I should try something different. Before I had time to think too hard, I had to go.

I pushed open the salon door and almost immediately saw Amy. I can't remember what I said to her, but I was just stunned by the way that she had cut all her hair off. She had some hair, but hardly any worth mentioning. I wondered what could have made her do it, after all, her hair had been lovely the way that I had seen it the last time. I glanced at the salon owner who was standing over a client and she too had the shortest hair I could imagine.

We exchanged a couple of comments and I was ready to get my hair washed, but instead of our usual routine, Amy told me to sit down. She asked whether I would want to shake Tony up once in a while by doing something different. I thought that I would love to shake Tony up by getting my hair cut, but not too short and certainly nothing like hers. I couldn't really admit that I was so under the thumb though.

All the while I was looking at her, so different with short hair, I longed for the freedom to do something like that on impulse. What it is to be young and free!

Then she said it.

'Make yourself comfortable, we're doing something different today' Amy said.

'Amy, I can't' I said, feeling stupid for sounding so weak.

Amy really surprised me by saying that she needed to get something and that she would see me either at the basin or where I was. At first I wondered what she meant, but then I realised that she was putting the ball in my court. I could follow my normal routine or I could take my chances. I looked at the owner, her hair so short, but still looking feminine. Perhaps I could have a couple of inches off, see how Tony coped with that. I looked at the owner again, wondering what it would be like to do that. The last time I saw her, she too had long hair and now that. What had her husband thought? Did he like it?

The questions kept coming inside my head. What would I look like if I did it? Could I do it? I heard footsteps coming back. I steeled myself to get up to head for the basin, my decision made, but I didn't move in time. Amy was back and I followed her hand as she reached for some electric hair clippers. My stomach lurched at the thought. It was a good lurch though, an excited lurch.

'Tempted?' Amy asked. Yes, I am, I thought

'I couldn't, not that short' I replied.

She asked about Tony, whether he was interested in my neck. Not for a good while, I thought, but I pretended that he liked it, liked to kiss it. After that, I wasn't really too aware of what she was asking or what I said to her. I wanted to do something for me for a change, but did it have to be this? Then I realised that it was something that Tony had no control over, could do nothing about.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch my hair falling away from my head. A liberation of sorts, but was it just from the bind of maintaining a longer hair style or was it something more? She worked quickly, I could feel my hair tumbling to my shoulders. Expensively maintained hair, superbly conditioned hair. All in my lap. 

I opened my eyes. I still had hair, albeit very short. I had thought that she was shaving it all off. 

I was relieved, but thought that I looked funny with my hair so short, sticking up, sticking out on the sides. I wasn't sure that I liked it like that. Amy had paused, but was back again. What was she doing? Tidying up the edges? She was cutting it shorter. It was so high. Was she shaving me now? No, she was just doing the sides. I could see skin through what was left of my hair. God it was short!

By the time that she turned the clippers off, I was almost starting to adjust to the sight of myself with hardly any hair. I wouldn't have to worry about making sure it was brushed and tidy before I went anywhere, that was for sure.

I went with Amy over to the basin to have the remains washed which hopefully would get rid of all the little bits before they found their way down my neck. I eased backwards ready to be washed. The water was hot, almost too hot, but it was bearable. The water was replaced by Amy massaging in a generous amount of shampoo. That would be something that I wouldn't need to buy so often now. I closed my eyes. It felt lovely, the way that she was stroking my scalp so gently. Little movements of her fingers darting across my temples, tingles coursing down my spine. Having my hair washed had never felt like that before. It went on and on. I didn't want it to stop.

'It's never felt like that when you've washed it before' I said.

'Consider that a little bonus, but just imagine what it's like when you've just been shaved' Amy said, almost in a whisper.

'Is it better than this?' I asked.

'Way better.' I envied her the freedom that she had to try something like that.

Amy rinsed my hair and led me back to the styling station again. I was content, bordering on turned-on by Amy's touch while she washed my hair. I would have to make sure that she washed my hair like that every time from now on. With that, I was done. From long hair to almost no hair. I could get to like it.

'I really don't know what my husband will say' I said as I got up.

'He'll love it. You look like a new woman, so think of the fun he'll have getting to know her' Amy said.

'I hope you're right' I replied. Tony was the fly in the ointment. Was this one more thing that he would spoil for me?

I couldn't resist a quick stroke of the back of my head as I went to the reception area to pay.

'Can you make Saturday afternoon?' Amy asked as I was looking for some money.

'What for? I asked, wondering what she meant.

'I'll take you all the way' she answered.

'I don't know about that.' 

'I'll put you in for five. Think about it. You'll love it' Amy said, ignoring my hesitation.

'But you're growing yours out' I said, trying to deflect attention away from myself.

'I am for the next two hours and then it's all coming off again' she replied.

'Really?'

'Oh yes' she replied. I wondered what sort of difference it would make to the way it felt. Very little hair to no hair. I reached up and touched my head. I liked the way that it felt, so different from the glossy, conditioned feel that I was used to.

'So you'll be bald next time I see you?' I asked.

'You'll need to be here on Saturday.'

I couldn't, could I?

Somebody was coming in to the salon behind me. I wanted to talk to Amy some more, but the moment had gone. I took the card that she offered me and left, my head full of all sorts of things as I walked away. The pleasurable sensations that I had experienced in the salon were replaced by a feeling of dread as I thought about seeing Tony for the first time.

My fears turned out to be spot on. I don't want to go in to detail, but the outcome was that Tony and I went home without eating lunch, a stony silence between us, once he had finished shouting, of course. He packed a suitcase, took his golf clubs and said that he was going away for the weekend. It didn't surprise me, but I was sad that we couldn't turn something like this into a way of re-kindling some of our old excitement. I had felt turned on in the salon and would have liked nothing more than to have lunch and then spend the rest of the afternoon making love. Those days were gone.

I sat in the kitchen drinking tea and then went for a shower. I knew precisely how I needed to react to having my hair cut shorter than most men's. It may not be the way that everyone would deal with it, but fifteen minutes after sitting in the kitchen drinking tea, I was back, pouring myself a second cup. This time though I was wearing a black basque that I had never found the right occasion to wear, black stockings and tiny knickers that barely covered anything. I may have a man's haircut, but everything that said I was a woman was on display.

The doorbell rang. I jumped up and hid behind the kitchen door, hoping that whoever it was hadn't seen me. There was a more insistent knock and then a card was pushed through the door. When I had decided that the coast was clear, I looked to see who it had been. The man to read the electricity meter. I laughed out loud, pleased to have some light relief at the thought that I could have made that man's day. I looked down at myself, boobs bubbling over the edges of my cups, slit clearly visible through the thin material of my non-knickers. I slid a finger inside the material, confirming that I definitely felt all woman.

I spent the rest of the day dressed like that, smiling every time I walked past a mirror. The following day I pottered around the garden, alone, but content. I was starting to like the way I looked. Very different, but it made me feel more confident. By the Saturday morning I had resolved to go and see a lawyer on Monday. I had also decided to go and see Amy. I couldn't wait.

With all the stuff with Tony going on it was actually a relief to be heading to the salon. It would be nice to have a bit of a distraction for an hour or so, I thought at first and then realised that the days of hour-long hair appointments were probably not going to come around again for a while. I quickened my step, looking forward to seeing Amy for a bit of sympathy and TLC. I think that I was also looking forward to what she said that she intended to do. Should I let her or should I see whether she could perhaps take the top shorter. Was that even an option or would I just look like a convict?

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

'Hi, Erica, for Amy' I said to the woman at reception. It was the owner, Christine I think her name is.

Hello, Erica. I'm sorry but Amy's off sick today' she said.

My heart sank.

'She was thinking about you when she rang in to tell me and she said that I shouldn't put you off coming in. She suggested that her colleague, Claire, would be able to provide the same level of service that you were expecting from her. We'll do this one for free, if that helps' she said.

She couldn't have been nicer or more accommodating, but I was so disappointed. I had looked forward to coming for so many different reasons and now it had all fallen apart. I was back to the reality of a miserable pig of a husband and what to do about that. So much for my intended weekend of self-exploration!

'Hello, Erica, is it?' a voice said from behind me.

I turned round to see who it was. I was surprised for a moment. Here was another bald stylist, beaming as she came towards me.

'Erica, I'm Claire. Amy told me all about how special you are as a customer and she asked me to look after you. She was so disappointed not to be here for you' the woman said. She was quite something, even if you ignored her ample bosom, which was quite difficult to do!

'Are you new?' I asked, trying to work out whether I had seen her before, with or without hair. I knew that there was another female stylist, as well as the gay chap, but she was plumper than this girl.

'New to the salon, but not new to hairdressing' Christine said. Was her name Christine? It didn't matter. What mattered was what I did. Should I wait? I had built myself up so much, perhaps I should just do it.

'Did Amy shave her head?' I asked, although I'm not sure how that helped me to resolve the situation at that point.

'I did it for her' the new girl said.

'Really?' I asked, looking at her own shaved head.

'She did mine. I did hers. We're all friends here' she said. She gestured with her hand towards the salon. I paused and then started walking towards the styling chairs. Was I doing the right thing?

I sat down and the girl covered me with a gown. I had to check what her name was as I didn't take it in when she introduced herself during the confusion at reception.

'What did your husband think of your new cut when you got home?' Claire asked. I wondered how much I wanted to tell her about what had gone on.

'Let's just say that he decided to go on a golf weekend at short notice' I said.

'Oh dear. He'll come round to the idea of a different look on his wife' she said.

'I'm not so sure, but that's his problem' I said boldly.

I heard the clippers come on, but hadn't actually noticed her pick them up while we were talking. I looked in the mirror and then looked around me. There was nobody else in the styling area at that moment. I was pleased about that as I'm not sure that I wanted to become the centre of attention while I was having my 'ultimate' hair cut.

'Did you like the way that Amy took you so short around the sides?' she asked, touching my temple with the back of her index finger and giving it the lightest brush.

'It was a bit of a shock at the time. Well, the whole thing was a bit of a shock. You come in for a trim and don't really expect to be going out looking so different' I replied.

'But you liked it though?' she asked.

'It took me a little while to get used to it, but by last night I was happier' I replied.

She touched the clippers to my sideburn on the right hand side of my head.

'Are you ready to be a bit more daring?' she asked.

Despite my shock when Amy cut my hair off, I was actually ready to go further.

'Yes' I said resolutely. To hell with Tony.

The clippers moved upwards slowly.

'You should enjoy this' Claire said with a smile. 

It was only as I tried to to watch what she was doing in the mirror that I became aware of just how close I was to this woman's boobs! Her chest wasn't unnaturallyly large, but she was certainly well-endowed when she was standing up and you were sitting down. At times as she moved across me, all I could see was boobs! I wanted her to get out of the way so that I could see what I looked like. The clippers were already across the top of my head, so there was no possibility of me having one of those sort of marine haircuts, with the shaved bits at the sides and stubble on the top. I was going all the way. I wondered if Amy had told her to do it that way.

'So Amy told you what to do, did she?' I asked.

'Oh yes. She thought that she had revealed a new woman in you, that's what she said, and today was just finishing off that process'

'That's one way to look at it I suppose.'

'Do you like yours?' I asked.

'My head?' she asked.

'Yes.'

'I just love it. It's so tingly when it's touched, it's lovely' she replied.

I watched in silence as the last few patches of my hair disappeared under the clippers and congregated in my lap. What would Tony say now? To be honest, I didn't really care. I was looking at my bald head; my brown eyes looked bigger somehow. Were my ears okay? I suppose so. At least they didn't stick out too much. Strange. What a week! I reached up for a sneaky feel. Not rough, but not smooth. Very nice. I tucked my hand back under the gown.

Claire had taken the opportunity to swap the clippers for a can of shaving foam.

'Now for the good bit!' she said, beaming.

I wasn't entirely sure about this. It would delay the re-growth process and keep me bald for longer, I started to think. I thought again. It was a good thing. I looked good like this. Tony would hate it! Let's get on with it!

Claire started to spread the foam around my scalp. Really slowly. Slower even than when Amy massaged my scalp the last time I was in. It was only when I had got home that I could admit to myself that I was turned on by Amy doing that. Stroking me, swirling her finger tips across my scalp. It was wonderful, but this was better. If anything, Claire's touch was lighter. Was she doing it deliberately, caressing me like a lover?

'Feel good?' Claire asked.

'Wonderful' I replied, feeling warm where I shouldn't be feeling warm in a salon.

I watched her hand approach with the razor. Warmer. Contact. Wet. Oh God, I thought. I closed my eyes, struggling between the sensations on my scalp and the sensations down below. I tried to focus higher up, but that only intensified the feelings elsewhere. I opened my eyes, realising that I had been so wrapped up in my little sensual world that Claire had almost finished. I couldn't see much difference from the way I was before, but I knew that I would feel a difference when I got the chance to touch it.

'Nearly done' Claire said, smiling at me.

She made the last few strokes and then stood back.

'Come on, let's rinse you off' she said.

I followed her across to the basin, hoping against hope that she would take her time and not just rinse my head under the tap. I wasn't disappointed. Quite how you can draw out such a task for so long was beyond me, but she managed it. She lathered my scalp and massaged and stroked like I was the only thing in her world. My eyes were closed, but somehow I could sense that she had bent in closer to me.

'Let's take a break shall we. Wouldn't want you to come just yet' she said, or at least I think that's what she said.

'Sorry?' I asked, my eyes open now. She looked at me.

'Let's dry you off' she said. I wondered whether I had imagined what she had just said, as I walked back to the styling chair, wrapped in a towel. She rubbed my head gently and then took the towel away.

'Voila!' she said, revealing the finished article to me.

'Thank you, Claire' I said, waiting for her to undo the gown. I touched the back of my head, running my hand across the smooth skin. I loved it, although I wasn't sure what the girls in my little coffee circle would say when I saw them next week. I picked up my bag and followed Claire to reception to pay, despite the owner's offer of a freebie. I thought about Amy as I walked, disappointed that she hadn't been the one to finish what she started, but very happy that Claire had picked up the baton.

Claire handed my change and as I was putting it in to my purse, I saw her look around the salon.

'I'll be out in about five minutes if you wanted to hang on' she said.

I looked at her. Was this what I thought it was? I'm a respectable corporate wife. Married to a prick. A prick who has gone off for the weekend to do who knows what. It wouldn't be the first time that he had gone off with his golf clubs, but come home with them as clean as when he went away. I knew that he had a roving eye, but had chosen to ignore it because it suited me. I didn't fancy women. I'd never even thought about women in that way. It wasn't right. I liked men and only men. My wet knickers said otherwise. Tony was away.

'Where?' I asked, after what seemed like an age. I heard movement upstairs. She scribbled on a card quickly.

'Give me ten minutes and then ring me' she said quietly as footsteps sounded on the top steps.

'Thank you Claire' I said and turned on my heel, clutching the card. I made it back to my car, heart pounding and sat there for a couple of minutes, staring through the windscreen. I had a bottle of water on the passenger seat and took a sip. I looked at the card sitting there next to my phone. I picked it up.

'Claire, it's Erica' I said when she answered.

'I wasn't sure if you would ring' she said.

'Neither was I' I replied.

'I thought we could have a drink. Celebrate you becoming a baldie. What do you think?' she asked.

'That would be lovely.'

'I just want to pop home and get changed first' she said. She told me where she lived and we agreed to go there before we decided what to do.

She was standing on the pavement as I pulled up and suggested that I go in to wait for her. I followed her up the stairs to her flat, feeling like a teenager going up to my boyfriend's bedroom for the first time, trying to get up there without his parents hearing two sets of footsteps on the stairs. Claire got me a glass of wine and sat me down in her lounge before heading off to change. I tried to relax, looking around the room while I listened to the sound of a shower somewhere else in the flat. I sipped the wine, thought about what Tony would be doing, told myself off for thinking about him and then thought about all that I had felt while Claire shaved my head. I heard noises in the kitchen. Claire clearly didn't hang about when she got ready to go out.

'Hope I wasn't too long' Claire said as she came in to the lounge. She was licking her lips, suggesting that she had just eaten one of the strawberries from the bowl that she was carrying.

The reason why she had been so quick was that she was still in her bathrobe and hadn't got dressed after her shower.

'I wasn't sure what we were doing, so I didn't know what to put on' she said, putting the bowl on the coffee table in front of me. She sat down at the other end of the three-seater settee from me, an empty seat between us.

'I don't really know. Where would you usually go?' I asked, thinking that I wouldn't want to go anywhere that I went with Tony. She reached forward to the bowl of strawberries, her robe falling open sufficiently to show that she had on a rather lovely purple bra and knickers, trimmed with lace. I could only see a little bit of each, but it was enough to tell me that they wouldn't be the sort of thing for everyday wear. She picked out a strawberry and held it out to me by the stalk. Tony had fed me strawberries once. A long time ago. I leaned forward and opened my mouth. She let me take a bite and watched me as I chewed it slowly and swallowed it.

'More?' she asked. I nodded.

She held out another strawberry and as I bent closer to take it from her she drew it back, keeping it just out of my reach. I followed it, moving closer to her. She drew me in, using the strawberry as bait. She touched it to her chest and eased open her robe so that she could run it down to her cleavage. Oh God, I had never thought of doing that with anybody. Where had she got that from? The strawberry continued its journey, down her belly, moving in circles. It reached the waistband of her panties.

'Take them off for me' she said quietly. I looked at her, captivated. She slid forward on the seat to make my job easier. There was no question that I wouldn't do it. I looked up at her as I knelt on the floor between her legs and hooked my fingers into the waistband of her knickers. The strawberry was able to continue its journey south as I drew the material down towards her ankles. It travelled slowly downwards, anticipating the gentle slope ahead of it. I watched the strawberry approach its destination, watched as Claire's finger eased its passage into its resting place. She smiled at me, expectantly. I lowered my bald head, licking strawberry and garnish tentatively, savouring the different flavours and textures. Claire's right hand held the strawberry in place, her left one stroked the back of my head. Tony had once taken me to see one of the early "Emmanuelle" films, but I found it sterile. This, on the other hand, was everything that sex with Tony wasn't. It's so hard to describe, but it was eroticism itself. I finished my strawberry and lifted my head, looking up at Claire.

'Did you like that?' she asked.

I slipped a finger under the cup of her bra and gave it a little tug to tell her that I was ready for her to spill its contents. I stood up to make myself more comfortable, tossing my clothes onto a chair. I looked back at her, wondering whether my own modest breasts would be of interest to her given the magnificent pair that she had just unleashed in front of me.

Claire and I feasted on wine, strawberries and each other for the rest of the evening, but I will spare you any more detail. I know that I should be thinking about my future, what to do about a life after Tony, but for now I just want to think about holding a beautiful, bald woman. Think about what I want to do to her, wonder what she could do to me. I also want to think about what other fruits that I can get to see in a whole new light!

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