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I didn't move in with Richard for several weeks, but by that time I had decided that I had found my soul-mate. Who would have thought that the man of my dreams would be somebody who found bald women attractive and who thought that foreplay involved videos of other women getting their hair cut? It took a while for us to work our way through his collection, but we made it eventually. In quieter moments I would sit and wonder at myself, about how I could allow other women to become a part of my intimate life to such a degree. If anybody had suggested it before I had met Richard then I would have laughed at them. I accepted the videos and an integral part of them are the women who are the subjects, so by opening myself up to one, I had to open myself to the other. Since I've met Richard I do seem to spend a lot of time "opening myself up" and he seems only too happy to take advantage! Every time is like the first time with him and I don't know why. He's imaginative and considerate, but I know that something in a recently viewed video will be at the forefront of his mind. I just see it as my job to try to push myself between him and the image he has in his head.

It was a few weeks ago when Richard had been away on business that I started to think about how we met at the spa and why he had been there. He had been on the prowl, waiting to draw an unsuspecting woman into his secret world. It just so happened that he had been particularly successful on that visit, with three headshaves including mine. He assures me that I had been the only one to give in to his charms, the only one who hadn't beaten a hasty retreat once they realised that what they had done on the spur of the moment was going to cause them difficulties once they got home. I believed him, although there was probably little chance that I had been the only woman that he had screwed while he had been using the spa as his hunting ground. No matter, I had got him now. I tried not to think about what he was up to while he was travelling, but consoled myself with the fact that he had let me move in with him and that he always had a voracious appetite when he came home. I almost wished that he would travel more, such was the degree of pleasure that we gave each other when he returned.

I had decided to let him shave me when he came home that evening, something that I didn't always do, but something that I knew he enjoyed. There had been times that I just couldn't wait to shave the red bristles from my scalp and my pussy, but if I forced myself, I could let them grow so that he could have the pleasure of returning me to the state that we both liked so much. I smiled to myself, wondering how he would like the underwear that I had bought to spice up his return, wondering whether I should just be sitting there in bra and knickers when he walked through the door. What would happen if he had brought a colleague home for a drink? Now there's a thought!

The events of the evening turned out a little different than I had anticipated as Richard too had spent his time away from me thinking about how we met. As I should have expected, he had developed the scenario further into trying to come up with a way to get Anya to cut her hair, if not shave it off completely, so that he could see a bald(ish) barberette cut my hair next time.  

I didn't really know how to react to the suggestion. Was I jealous? I know that I was curious.

'So have you thought this through? Putting aside what I think about it for a moment, do you think you can just ask her and she'll cut her hair for you? She'll think you're some nutter and call security before you've even got the words out of your mouth.'

'I was going to pay her' he replied.

'I'm sure that'll do it. "Here you are, professional beautician lady, whose appearance is very important, just let me shave your head for you. I'll give you a few pounds to soften the blow of you losing your job". Somehow I can't see that working' I replied.

'I could always offer to screw her' he said, trying to keep a straight face.

I didn't know how to reply to that, other than with my own smile. We had been on the verge of a serious argument and here he was, taking the heat out of it.

'How about we just go there, as a couple and enjoy ourselves? No plans. Just lie back and enjoy it.'

I pondered the suggestion for a while, but couldn't see any downside. I enjoyed the place, so why not? I was even prepared not to shave again until we went, just to save up the release that I would feel when Anya stripped it off for me. I told Richard to make the arrangements, but not before I saw at least some evidence of contrition from him. After all, my new underwear hadn't been cheap!

It turned out to be three weeks before Richard could get us in to the spa. I don't know what it is with that place, but it doesn't seem to be there for me when I want it to be there. I agreed with Richard's reason for delaying the trip though, as it turned out that Anya was away for some course or other. He could have got us in sooner, but there was no telling who would have been doing the beauty side of things. I was pleased that he waited.

The delay meant that I was back to being a fully fledged "ginger" by the time we walked in to reception, both upstairs and downstairs. I could accept the one inch cap of ginger on my head much more readily than I could accept the existence of my red pubes though. "Firebox" returns, I thought, every time I took my knickers off. The "Snapper" was back and with it, memories of the ex. Those were as unwelcome as the ginger carpet itself. Richard smiled at my discomfort, but didn't appear put off by what to him was my strange appearance. He had only seen me with the "no bush" look before he hatched this plan and had never seen the full ginger tangle that would make a re-appearance if drastic measures weren't taken soon. 

I knew that the main purpose of his visit was to observe the comings and goings at the salon, particularly if he caught a glimpse of Anya. He had been most insistent when he made the booking that there was a free session at the salon for pretty much our planned arrival time. That gave me time for a quick shower and to say a farewell to my gingerness, which would cease to be almost as soon as I went through the door. Richard tried to get in the shower cubicle with me, but apart from the fact that we didn't have time for anything worthwhile, I really wanted to wait until after I had become smooth again. That was what I had come for after all and despite quite wanting a fast, furious fuck, I wanted him to save his energy for another hour or so. I slipped on one of the fluffy robes and left him getting in to the shower. He called out that he would be on "his" chair when I came out, a little memento of our meeting that first time. I smiled as I walked out the door.

I opened the door to the salon and looked towards the counter expectantly. There was a dark haired woman on the telephone, facing away from me, but no sign of Anya. My heart sank. What if she had been taken ill and I had got the stand-in? Despite trying not to listen to the call, I couldn't help myself. Someone was making an appointment. More importantly, the voice speaking in to the telephone was Anya. I was so relieved. Anya wasn't blonde anymore. Anya was midnight black. What a treat that would be when I finally saw her from the front rather than in half-profile, even though her basic style didn't seem to have changed. She was still short and expertly cut.

She finished the call and turned to see who had come in. She smiled a welcome.

'Well, hello again' she said with that distinctive accent of hers.

'Hi Anya. Like the hair' I said.

'I don't' she replied, which surprised me. She stood and directed me to the treatment table before continuing.

'I volunteered to be a model on a course that I was on and they did this to me' she said, pointing towards her hair. I must admit that it was strange to see her with dark hair, but it was the very fact that it was unexpected that made it so interesting. I eased myself on to the table in preparation for my bout of torture by wax.

'So you don't think that it's "you"?'

'Not at all. I hate it' she said emphatically.

'Can't you get it coloured back to what it was?' I asked.

'I could, but it's not so good for the hair, is it' she complained. 'My boyfriend said that I should shave it off if I hate it so much' she added, taking me by surprise.

'Really?' I said, not knowing what to say.

'I'd told him about shaving your head and about those other clients. He was fascinated at the time, but it was only when I came home crying about what they'd done to me that he suggested that I should do it too' she said, easing my gown apart so that my naked belly was unveiled. 'I shouldn't have said anything, I'm sorry. You haven't come here to listen to me complain' she added.

'Not at all' I said. 'Don't let me stop you' I said, easing my legs apart to allow her to prepare her work-surface. She was quiet for a moment which gave me a chance to wonder just how hard Richard would get in the millisecond after I told him what Anya had just said. Would he believe me? Should I go and get him so that he could hear it for himself?

'It's silly really. As you say, I could dye it again or I could cut it short, it's not the end of the world' she said.

'What about shaving it?' I asked, eager for more detail to torment Richard with later on.

'I don't know. It's probably the quickest way to get back to the way that I was, but I don't know if my boyfriend would like it if he was faced with it for real' she said.

'Mine loves it' I told her. 'He only let me grow it a bit so that it would feel that much nicer when you shaved it off for me again'.

'He should get together with my boyfriend then' Anya said, making the first move towards ripping a strip from my groin. I was about to see flesh again rather than ginger undergrowth. I braced myself. I looked at the wall, but it made no difference. She pulled, I bit back on a succession of swear words. I told myself that it would be worth it. She went in for a second run. I tried to force myself to think about what she had said. I was interested. It would be so much sexier to watch somebody being shaved in the flesh rather than seeing a video. You would feel a part of it rather than just being a distant observer. I became more and more attracted to the idea as I sat there. When Richard had floated the prospect at home, there was an element of jealousy getting in the way of my considering letting him get involved in something like that, but reclining here, faced with Anya's fingers at my bare crotch and a hairstyle that she didn't like, it started to be more alluring. Despite the regular pulses of pain as Anya tore away my fledgling pubes, I was starting to feel stirrings that were out of place. I looked at the ceiling, tracing a fine crack across the room as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

'That's you done' Anya said after a few minutes, patting me lightly on my belly.

I sat up to look at what she had done, knowing what it would look like, but eager to see it again anyway. I put a hand down to run my fingers across the hairless flesh, savouring the smoothness. My fingers trailed slightly further than I intended. One of Richard's recent wisecracks came to mind, something he said when I asked him whether my  pubes made me less attractive to him. Admittedly, he was going down on me at the time, but he just lifted his head and smiled. "Tastes like chicken...with a hint of ginger" he said, licking his lips before going for a second helping. The hint of ginger was well and truly off the menu now.

'I'm sorry, forgot where I was for a moment' I said, embarrassed.

'Pretend I'm not here' Anya said, gathering her implements and the remnants of my pubes. I looked at her.

'Don't you find this a bit weird?' I asked.

'I try not to think about it in that way' she replied. She turned her back on me to take the things away and I grasped the opportunity to run a finger the length of my lips. I had just slipped the tip of my index finger that tiny bit inside when she turned around. I looked at her, caught in the act, guilt coursing to my reddening cheeks.

'I won't tell' she re-assured me as I withdrew my finger. I clamped my knees together as if that would undo what she had just seen me do. She looked at me intently, pondering something.

'I'm wet too' she said quietly.

Now that sort of confession was not quite what I was expecting. It was my turn to look at her.

'I know why you shaved your head. I talked to my friend when those other women did theirs. We found stuff on the internet about it, kinky stuff. I was thinking about shaving my head while I was doing that just now' she confessed.

'So that's why you let them dye your hair, so you would have an excuse?' I asked, the realisation dawning on me slowly.

'Maybe' she said, drawing the word out for longer than I thought possible.

'What's stopping you?' I asked, increasingly aware of the fluttering in my favourite places.

'I was waiting for you to come back. I saw you name in the diary and thought that I would talk to you about doing it' she said.

'It's not me you should be talking to, it's my boyfriend, he's the expert' I told her.

'I know about him. One of the others told me. I watched him on the cameras, waiting for them in the corridor. He's there now, isn't he?' she asked.

She had moved to the end of the treatment table, watching me there, propped up on my elbows, gown lying around me, knees drawn up, but clamped together. My modesty was protected from her gaze.

'Scoot down the table a bit' she said. I wondered what else she had in mind. There was nothing left for her to remove. Some lotion to take the sting out, maybe? She hadn't done that the last time. I shuffled towards the end of the table, knees still drawn up, gown getting ruffled underneath me to the point that it was uncomfortable.

'Open up' she said, tapping me on the side of my thigh.

I opened my legs, revealing all to her. It felt odd doing that. There didn't seem any reason now, whereas before it was obvious that I would have to lie back and spread my legs for her.

I did as she asked. She looked at me and placed the flat of her hand on my belly. She rested it there for a moment, before lifting it up so that only the tip of her index finger maintained contact with my skin. She started to trace a line down towards my gap.

'Don't you just love the feel when you've just been waxed?' she asked. I nodded, wondering how any professional purpose could be served by her finger sliding where it was at that moment. I had never been touched by another woman like that before and tried to tell myself that it wasn't sexual, it was a part of the treatment. Once her finger slid inside me, I had trouble using that justification any longer. I gasped at what she was doing, but didn't object. I tilted my head back, thinking about Richard, back in our room, innocently thinking that I was getting my hair cut in readiness for him. Instead I was in here being fingered by the woman that he fantasised about. What was I doing? I looked at her, standing between my parted legs like that.

Anya lowered her head, her eyes tilting to maintain contact with my gaze. I watched, fascinated as her head got closer and closer. There was jet black hair between my legs, I reached out to touch it, to pull her away. I felt her tongue make contact with my lips, gentle, tentatitive, uncertain. My urge to pull her away was now quite the opposite. I pressed her in to me, wanting her to taste me, wanting her to make me come. I was closer than I thought. I grasped her hair in my fists, pulling her in.

'I'm going to cut this off' I gasped. 'I'm going to shave you. Make you bald' I uttered, between waves of intense pleasure. 

She grunted her agreement or objection or whatever it was, I didn't care. She licked and nipped and teased. I shuddered and stifled a squeal, although aware that such sounds probably weren't usual in the salon during waxing treatments. I felt Anya nip one of my lips with her teeth before she stood upright. I wasn't sure what to do, how to act. It wasn't like being in bed with some guy, where you could have a cuddle afterwards, it wasn't like a quick knee-trembler in a pub car-park (not that I have done that too many times!) where you pull your skirt back down and giggle at the daring of it all. This was a sexual encounter in a beauty salon, with a woman! I was grateful that Anya looked a little bashful, but she was still brazen enough to bend forward to kiss me. I could taste myself. She ran her hand over my scalp as we kissed. I say "we", because I was as enthusiastic as she was, despite my reservations.

'I don't want to cut your hair now' she said as she broke our embrace.

My disappointment was immediate and it clearly showed.

'I want my boyfriend to watch. Yours too' she said.

That was unexpected.

'When?' I said, licking my lips to taste her and myself again.

'I don't know. I can't socialise with clients, with guests. I'll lose my job' she explained.

'Richard was so looking forward to it, I don't know what he'll say' I told her.

'It would be alright if you weren't a guest' she said. I tried to understand what she was getting at.

'You mean we'd need to check out?'

'Yes. Then I could meet you, we could meet you' she said. She moved slightly closer, standing between my still open legs as I lay on the couch. I eased myself up off my elbows, slightly sore, but slightly awkward. I was sitting up and scissored my legs behind her, smiling.

'You're serious? You want me and Richard to meet you and your boyfriend and the two of us will shave our heads?' I said.

'I don't know about me yet, but I'll shave you and the boys can watch' she replied.

'Kinky!' was the best reply that I could manage.

'I need to get ready for a client' she said, freeing herself from my clutches. She went over to the counter and left me to compose myself and make myself decent. She was back holding a piece of paper before I had completely finished.

'That's my address. Come about 7, but you'll need to check out of here and leave as soon as you're dressed. Otherwise I can't do it' she said.

'What do I tell Richard?' she asked.

'Everything. Nothing. Whatever you want' she said with a mischievous smile. I pecked her on the cheek.

'Thank you. For... you know' I said.

'Maybe you'll return the favour later' she said.

'Maybe.'

I took my piece of paper and left. I tucked it into the pocket of my gown as I walked back to the room, composing a cover-story for Richard. I walked in to the room to see him lying on the bed, in a state of anticipation. I saw confusion spread over his face as I walked in, "copper-knob" intact.

'You need to put that away' I said, motioning to his expectant cock. 'We're leaving.'

He looked stunned, in addition to disappointed.

'What's happened? Why?' he asked, his disappointment spreading lower.

'Look, get dressed. It's a change of plan, that's all.'

'But what do we tell the spa?' he asked.

'Just tell them we've been called away' I said, slipping my robe off on the way to the shower.

To be fair to him, Richard had packed his things away by the time I came back into the room.

'At least you had that done' he said, pointing to my hairless crotch. I shimmied round his attempt to examine Anya's work more closely and picked up my underwear.

I dressed in silence, wondering whether I was being fair on Richard. Should I keep it a surprise for him? Could I keep it a surprise? I could sense his gaze boring into me.

'You could go and sort things out at reception. Tell them it's a family emergency or something' I said, zipping my jeans up.

He shrugged and left. I packed quickly and sat on the bed wondering about the arrangements we should make. Should we book a hotel for the night? Before I had made a decision. Richard was back.

'They think we're a pair of lunatics, but it's sorted' he said. 'Now what?'

I stood up and kissed him, almost regretting that my shower had removed all traces of Anya's scent from me.

'Humour me. And please don't be mad' I added.

We left and for the next four hours I dragged Richard round various shops and sat and drank more coffee than was good for us. He gave up trying to wheedle out of me what had gone on while I was in the salon, but only after I promised him the mother of all blow-jobs in return for his co-operation.

He appeared relieved when his ordeal by shopping was over and we went back to the car. He looked at me as I took out my piece of paper and fed the details into the sat-nav. My expression told him just to go with it.

After twenty minutes or so, the irritating voice told us that we had arrived. We were outside a nice-looking suburban house. I checked the paper to make sure that we were at the right place and then patted Richard on the thigh.

'Come on, grumpy' I said and leaned over to kiss him.

I have no idea what he expected as we walked up the driveway, but he followed like a dutiful pet. I rang the bell and waited. I saw a shadowy figure approach through the patterned glass and took a deep breath.

'Well, hi' Anya said breezily as she opened the door wide. I turned to look at Richard.

'Say hello to Anya, Richard' I said smiling. He didn't know what to say at first.

'He's not usually this shy' I said on his behalf. Anya embraced each of us in turn, continental style and then ushered us in. It was interesting to see her in ordinary clothes rather than the starched uniform she wore at the spa. Here she was in button-through flower print dress that looked perfect for lounging around in. It sat well on her hips, but beyond that gave no real clues to the body beneath. She looked attractive, relaxed. We followed her in and I took the opportunity to elbow Richard in the ribs. He looked at me to query what he was supposed to have done.

'Weren't you blonde last time I saw you?' he asked, breaking his silence. I dug him in the ribs again.

Anya turned towards him. 'That's a bit of a sore point' she replied with a smile.

She led us in to the lounge, which was tastefully decorated and furnished, as I would have expected. She oozed class, even if her job was perhaps not what I would have expected to be able to fund this sort of lifestyle. Sitting in the armchair in the corner was probably the main provider of the house. A good-looking man in his thirties, tousled brown hair, wearing faded jeans and a white casual shirt.

'Wendy, Richard, meet Tom' Anya said, waving a hand in the direction of her man. Tom stood up. I liked what I saw and realised what a well-matched couple they were. Young, attractive, happy. I saw Tom glance at my head, examining my ginger cap in detail.

'I'd intended to get rid of this earlier on' I said.

'I'm so pleased that you didn't' he replied.

I could sense that Richard was a little uncomfortable at the situation. Standing there while another man made comments about his girlfriend's hair. Anya defused the tension by pointing to the chair at the end of the room.

'I suggested that Wendy might want her hair cut somewhere more comfortable than the spa' she said, holding Richard's gaze a little longer than necessary. 

She offered us drinks and I tried to give Richard a reassuring look.

'So this is what the two of you were scheming about' Richard said, taking a glass of wine from Anya. She smiled at him. I went to sit down next to Richard, but Anya suggested that I should go and sit in what she called the "hot-seat" so that they could all anticipate what was about to happen. She took the seat on the sofa next to Richard, from where she could look at me and Tom without any effort. We chatted for a couple of minutes, but it was fairly clear that all any of us were interested in was my hair.

'Shall we begin?' Anya said, picking up a set of clippers from the table beside her. I was more than ready to be smooth again. I smiled across at Richard, but saw his expression change as Tom stood up and moved to take the clippers from Anya.

'You don't mind do you, Richard?' Anya asked. Ever since I told Tom about shaving Wendy's head he's been fascinated by it. I think he's got a thing about ginger hair. I sort of told him that he could be the one this time. You've done it, haven't you? You know what a thrill it is to clipper that lovely red hair, to see it fall to the floor' she said. I think it was Anya's hand on his thigh that over-rode any objections that Tom might have had.

'Be my guest' Tom said with a wave of his hand, but I'm not overly sure whether the invitation was addressed to Tom or Anya.

Anya stood up and came across to supervise. There was a towel over the arm of one of the other chairs and she positioned this over my shoulders and got me to hold it in place in readiness. She moved away and left Tom and I as the centre of attention. I wondered what Richard was thinking, how this was playing out in his mind. What did he think of seeing me getting clippered like that? Ever since I had shaved for the first time, only he or I had done the deed. For some reason, I hadn't felt like going in to a salon to have it done. Whether it was because I was too mean to pay someone to do it, or because I wanted to be able to get straight down to business with Richard, I don't know. This set-up was different, it was a real turn-on. I only hoped that Richard agreed.

Tom approached me with the clippers, but stayed out of my field of vision. The exact point of his first cut was going to be a surprise, but I knew what was coming. The excitement for me was that it was a novice doing it, a fellow fetishist, although one who had perhaps not fully realised that that was what he was. It probably wouldn't take him long to understand and I'm sure that Richard would be only too pleased to provide him with some research material to help him with his self-discovery. My head was pushed down, a little too firmly perhaps, but I had to make allowances for a nervous first-timer. I heard the clippers, my stomach jumped. I was about to be shorn. I wanted to look round at Richard, but didn't dare. I felt the blades, winced as the corner dug in. Tom apologised and adjusted his approach. The clippers started to glide.

Tom would only get average marks for his first attempt on a live subject, but he was doing well-enough for Anya to let him get on with it. He clearly hadn't drawn blood yet! I felt him working the back of my head, stripping it high up towards my crown before he started on the sides. It was almost as if he was trying to shave me by stealth, even if I was a willing participant. I was facing the French-doors into their garden, which in any other circumstances would have been wonderful, but it wasn't great for being able to gauge audience reaction. Perhaps that was the reason for setting the chair that way in the first place. Anyway, no matter, it wouldn't be long before Tom was done. I could see him in my peripheral vision now, working his way further forward. Clumps of ginger hair were scattered on my thighs as proof of his progress. A couple more strokes and he was far enough forward for me to see that he had pitched a rather impressive trouser-tent. This was getting serious. This morning, Anya had brought me to a climax in the salon and now I was inches away from her boyfriend's erection. Had she planned for this situation to develop or was I reading too much into Tom's enthusiasm for his task? I tried to ignore it, difficult as it was, and went back to concentrating on my journey back to baldness.

A couple more minutes and Tom had finished. He stood in front of me, and reached forward to touch my scalp. I picked up a short tuft of my hair and held it out to him.

'You should keep this as a little trophy of your first headshave' I told him. He took it from me and smiled.

'I'd better see how you've done, hadn't I?' I heard Anya say. I felt her hands on my scalp, stroking me, assessing what Tom had done.

'Not bad for a first attempt, but you lose a few points for this' she said, cupping the front of his trousers. She kept her hand there, suggesting that my suspicions weren't misplaced.

I looked over at Richard and smiled. I was bald again, that was what he wanted. What he was still probably trying to work out was what was going on. Here he was sitting in somebody else's lounge while they appeared to be indulging in foreplay. He wasn't sure if he had been invited to the party. I was fairly sure that I was, the invitation coming from Anya's own mouth in the salon this morning. There could be no surer way to know that you are invited to a racy party than have the hostess run her tongue over your pussy lips. I turned back to face the host and hostess just in time for Anya to lean in to kiss me. My initial surprise at her move subsided quickly and I relaxed enough to let her tongue slip into my mouth and start exploring. She was a good kisser.

'More wine?' I heard Tom ask, presumably in Richard's direction rather than mine. I eased back from Anya, arching my back, trying not to break contact at waist level. I looked round to Richard slightly guiltily. He was seeing a side of me that not even I knew existed. The hand cupping my breast returned my focus back to Anya.

'Come and have a feel Richard' she said, rolling my left boob round in her hand, before stepping back from me.

Richard was at my side, reaching up to feel my scalp. 

'Better?' I asked.

'Much' Richard replied, his gaze flicking between me and Anya.

'Did you like to watch, Richard?' Anya asked.

'It was interesting' he replied in that dead-pan way of his. My left hand quickly discovered that Tom wasn't the only one to venture into camping territory at what they had seen. Richard was displaying an impressive tent of his own.

Tom was back with a glass of wine for Richard which caused us to break off from what we were doing. I put my arm round Richard's waist and watched as Tom embraced Anya from behind, encircling her in a mini bear-hug. She leaned back in to him and he loosened his grip. His hands roamed over her body and then went to the buttons on her dress. Richard and I watched transfixed as our little haircut scenario was transformed into something else. Anya's dress fell open and she stood there exposed, without batting an eyelid. I had suspected that she would be bra-less, but Tom was showing us that she was knickerless. Pube-less too. His hands continued to roam, from boobs to belly, to even further south. I could see that Richard was mesmerised by Anya's large dark nipples, crowning modest boobs. For my part, I was fascinated by the way that she leant back against him and looked me directly in the eye as Tom very deliberately slipped a finger inside her. She closed her eyes as he entered. I didn't know whether to be excited or embarrassed. I could hardly tell them to save it for the privacy of their own home though, could I?

Tom's other hand was running through Anya's darkened hair.

'What do you say Richard, do you think this is a bit too long?' Tom asked, withdrawing his finger from his girlfriend at last. I was relieved that my blushes were to be spared, only to have that hope dashed as he slowly licked his finger and smiled. Awkward, or what?

I was conscious that Richard hadn't answered Tom's question and gave him a nudge.

'Well, do you?' I prompted.

'Definitely. Not that it isn't lovely as it is, but it would be better shorter' he said quickly. Tom released Anya and motioned for her to sit down on the chair.

'Would you like me to use a guard?' Tom asked Anya, tweaking her nipple. I didn't know whether Richard and I should take our clothes off or not. Clearly guidance from our hosts was mixed, with one being fully clothed and the other still wearing a dress, even though it was providing no cover from our curiosity.

'That one on the end' she said, pointing to a guard on the ornamental table. I saw Tom take the one next to it and fit it to the body of the clippers. Obviously he wanted his lady with shorter hair than she wanted for herself. She didn't object. Tom held the clippers out to Richard, smiling. Richard looked at me and then moved over to accept Tom's gift. I had no idea what I could get for Richard for Christmas that could possibly come close to what Tom was so generously offering him now. Why didn't Tom do the deed for himself? Was it some sort of turn on for him to see his near-naked girlfriend clippered by a stranger? Did that make Tom a nice man? Just then, yes it did! Everybody in the room was turned on by what Tom was proposing, some more so than others. I wasn't the only one to notice.

'Wouldn't it be more comfortable for everyone if we got rid of some of these clothes first?' Anya said, not that she had anything much to get rid of. I watched Tom and Richard, looking for a cue. Neither of them moved for a moment and then hands went to buttons and zips. We were clearly not as free and easy as certain sections of the internet would lead us to believe that we should be, but in seconds the room was host to unfettered boobs and unconstrained erections. We would have to work out what to do with those in a while, but the first item on the agenda was Anya's hair. 

Richard had picked up the clippers again and was looking at her as if asking her permission. He couldn't believe his luck. She waited, he watched, only to be stimulated into action when Anya took hold of his cock and pulled him closer. That was one way to get what you want, I thought. Richard took that as her consent and flicked on the clippers. I could see him wondering where to start, wondering what would be most comfortable with Anya holding on to his appendage so tightly.

He decided to go for the "side of the head, in front of the ear" approach that I had seen on so many of his little films. Not original by any means, but I liked it and he obviously did. Richard moved the clippers up the side of Anya's head slowly, while she sought the security of his cock. I knew that I should have felt a twinge of jealousy, the way that I did when Richard first raised the possibility of getting Anya to cut her hair. That scenario had moved on a long way since that little fantasy and so had I. It was only this morning that I was pulling Anya's face into my crotch and now here I was, naked, watching my equally naked boyfriend be stimulated by another woman. I watched the clippers move high onto Anya's head and felt excited as a length of her now-black hair, probably six inches or so, tumbled away. Tom's arms circled me the way that they had circled Anya. I felt the hardness of his cock nuzzle between my cheeks. I looked at Tom.

'What will it take for me to ask Tom to take the guard off?' Tom asked me, nuzzling my ear. I could feel him, feel him pulsate against me. Would it change things with Richard? Could I bear to see him with another woman? The same woman that I had been with. Now there's a scenario that I didn't ever think I would have to consider.

I pressed back against Tom to give him his answer as I watched Richard progress to the top of Anya's head. Richard had done quite a lot while I had been distracted and it was now possible to see what Anya would look like with just a covering of dark bristles. Dark bristles that would be showing blonde if she left them much longer.

'Richard, lose the guard' Tom said.

Richard looked towards us just as Tom was lifting my right leg so that my foot could rest on the arm of one of the chairs. With both Richard and Anya watching, Tom slid inside me, slipping easily through my wetness. I felt myself filling up, dropping my head as he thrust home. He was big. I looked for something to brace myself.

'I knew you couldn't wait to fuck her' Anya said. I looked up to see her take a degree of revenge by using Richard's temporary pause to lean forward and take him in her mouth. I was worried about losing my balance as Tom banged in to me, clearly with no intention of setting any endurance records. I could tell that it was going to be intense. I tried to keep my gaze on Richard, thinking to myself stupidly that it didn't count if I was there to watch. It was too late for me, my unfaithfulness was well and truly certified. Tom was squeezing my tits, pinching my nipples, fucking me hard, I didn't know where to focus my attention. The clippers provided a moment's distraction as Richard resumed his task. He went over the part of Anya's head that he had already clippered into that alluring pelt of dark stubble. Stubble that was now gone. Anya had a stripe of skin up the side of her head that was matched by a second, then a third. She no longer had to worry about how out of place the black hair appeared against her Scandinavian looks. Richard was out of her mouth now and she was occupying herself by stroking a clump of her severed hair over her body, teasing her dark nipples, moving it over her belly, down to her hairless pussy. Her pussy became dark, became hidden, before being revealed again. Her legs were wide open, she was starting to  wriggle in her seat, making it difficult for Richard, although not impossible. He carried on. I wondered if he would finish before Tom was finished with me and then I didn't have to wonder any more. With an animal-like cry Tom had come, almost knocking me from my perch in the process.

I could see both Richard and Anya looking at us, looking at me with a leg still in the air like a slut, a spent man still hanging out of the back of me. And then he wasn't. Tom's head was between my legs, mimicking Anya's earlier attention, although from a different angle. I was almost embarrassed to be standing there being licked out like that with an audience, but I was enjoying it too much to tell him to behave himself!

I could still watch the end of Anya's haircut, even if Tom couldn't. He would have plenty of opportunity to enjoy it later, I'm sure. At that moment, I couldn't imagine a more pleasurable way to enjoy my new-found hair interest. I could watch my boyfriend shave the head of a gorgeous woman while her own boyfriend tugged at my pussy lips and tried to insert his tongue where few others have had the chance.

Anya was bald, Tom was still attached to my crotch. I tapped him on the head, suggesting that he might like to come up for air so that he could see his balded girlfriend. I thought that he was going to pull a muscle as he twisted from underneath me, but in a moment, he was looking over the back of the chair at Anya. She was beautiful bald, much better than she had been with her exotic black hair or even her natural blonde shade. Tom and I both went over to her to get a closer look.

I felt sorry that Richard was being crowded at that moment. After all, I had been eaten by both of our hosts and fucked by one of them. Richard had barely had either really. I took Anya's hand and fell to my knees, kissing her lower belly. I looked up at Richard, hoping that he would enjoy what I was about to do. I teased Anya's belly button with my tongue and then moved downwards as slowly as I could. I wondered what Richard  would think. My tongue was between Anya's lips, tracing her slot, looking for more tender flesh. I found it, tasted it, explored it, enjoyed hearing Anya's little moan as I found her sweet spot. Or was it that Richard and Tom were occupying themselves with her boobs? I felt hands on me from behind, wondered whether it was Tom or Richard, but then decided that the likelihood was that it was Tom, back for another taste of ginger. He was at my boobs again, squeezing, kneading, enjoying the slightly larger quantity than he was used to. Anya broke away from me. I was glad, it meant that Richard would get to balance things out. A compensating fuck at last. 

Tom tumbled me onto my back and busied himself between my legs again. That gave me the chance to turn my head to see what Richard was doing. I watched as he became unfaithful to me, sliding into Anya from behind, the way that he did with me. I was pleased for him, how could I be anything else really when I was flat on my back with Tom lapping at all my secret places? I stroked the back of his head, enjoying the feel of his hair, but wondering how he would look without it, how Richard would look without his. Richard had never  provided an answer when I asked whether he wanted to shave his own head, but I suspected that deep down it was something that he wanted to do. What about Tom, a man about whom I knew next to nothing, but who was currently displaying an expert knowledge of the female anatomy? Had he only thought of Anya as a candidate for baldness or had he thought about it for himself? I already knew that he hadn't got as far as Richard in the personal grooming stakes - his pubes were untamed and a bit of a novelty now that I had got so used to Richard and his hairless balls. My musings were interrupted by Anya's enthusiastic cries as Richard got into his rhythm. I looked across at her and our eyes locked. We smiled at each other, vulnerable, exposed, content.

Tom's focus changed and he began working his way up my body, tongue and fingers roaming over me. A quick glance told me that he had recovered from our earlier bout and he was ready for me again. He eased me round slightly, presumably so that he could see Anya while he fucked me. What about me wanting to see Richard? He thrust home and my focus was immediately back on what was happening in my little world, where everything was wonderful. From what I could hear of Richard's activities, things weren't too bad in his either. I had just started to wonder about whether Richard preferred Anya's large-nippled boobs to my own, whether he thought she was a more enthusiastic partner than I, whether she had a few foreign tricks up her sleeve or anywhere else, when Tom started banging into me like his life depended upon it. Again and again he thrust into me, making me think that each one was his last, when he was back for more. I wrapped my legs tightly around him, not wanting it to end, but wondering about my ability to walk properly after he had finished. He grunted, I squealed and then the only noise was from Richard and Anya, measured, regular, controlled.

I gave Tom one last squeeze with my tired pussy muscles and he rolled off me, jumping to his feet. He offered me his hand and I stood up, slightly less sprightly. He led me over to Anya where he patted her head to offer some encouragement. Richard didn't break his rhythm and for a moment, I wondered whether he had done this sort of thing before. He didn't seem fazed by another man walking past holding the hand of his freshly-fucked girlfriend. To be fair to him, I wasn't exactly freaking out at the sight of him banging the rear of a former-blonde beauty either. Tom and I headed for the shower.

With excellent timing, a giggling Richard and Anya appeared in the bathroom just as Tom and I had finished. In the spirit of our new-found openness, I sat on the side of the bath and watched Richard soaping Anya as they washed each other. Tom had disappeared to answer his phone, which seemed a peculiar devotion to his job, but it takes all sorts. I sat there wishing that the shower cubicle was that little bit bigger. I wanted to join the pair of them in there, but knew that it just wasn't possible. Eventually I did the only thing that I could and told Tom to get out so  that I could get in with Anya. He didn't seem overly pleased, but I thought that he could do with a break!

Anya smiled as I slipped into the cubicle, reaching up to rub her soapy hands over my bald head.

'I should finish you' she said, reaching for the razor conveniently resting on the little shelf. It wasn't necessarily what I had come in for, but it needed to be done and I was delighted that she would be the one to do it. It was a completely different experience to be able to stand there and play with her while she shaved me. Her boobs were slippery and wet, my fingers tracing the circumference of the huge area of darkness around her nipples. I had to be careful to keep still while she worked, but I had as much fun as I could. She seemed more than willing to let me play, to let me explore both her body and my new-found interest in another woman's body. All those times I have stood in changing rooms with other women and they have not interested me in the slightest, but here with a bald Anya, I just couldn't resist. I knew that Richard was still sitting in the bathroom, watching us like two Chinese shadow puppets as we stood there. Anya urged me to turn around so that she could do the back of my head, leaving me staring at the shower wall rather than at her. I couldn't wait for her to finish so that I could turn around to face her again. 

Her hand reached from behind me, putting the razor back on the shelf, signalling that she had finished. I ran my hands over my scalp. It was wonderful to be smooth again, to have been made smooth in such a sensuous way. I wasn't sure if it would be repeated, but I knew that I now had memories of being shaved that would last me a very long time indeed. Anya's hands reached around me to hug me, to stroke me, to grope me.

'Do you want to do mine or will you let Richard do it?' Anya asked.

I wanted to do it, but I also thought that Richard should have the honour as it was his fetish after all. Without him, I wouldn't have enjoyed any of this, so my "thank you" to him was to step out of the cubicle and to usher him back in. The door closed and I sat listening to the giggles as Richard enjoyed his gift. I dried myself off and wrapped a towel around myself, although I don't know why. I headed downstairs, desperate for something to drink. I was conscious that we hadn't eaten dinner, but that didn't seem to matter much. It seems stupid, given the context, but I really craved a cup of tea!

'Find everything?' Tom said, appearing in the kitchen doorway while I was looking for a cup.

'Yes, thanks' I said, feeling a touch of embarrassment now that our coupling was finished.

'You look stunning, you know that' he said, standing there, a smaller towel around his waist.

'So you prefer me bald to ginger then?' I asked.

'I'd want to fuck you whatever you did with your hair' he said. What about that for a compliment!

'Shouldn't you consider yourself a lucky boy to have Anya, without needing to look elsewhere?' I asked.

'Anya? What's she got? Except for a great pair of tits, great legs, great arse!' he said laughing.

'No hair' I added.

'There is that too' he agreed.

'So how long have you been interested in bald women?' I asked, chancing my arm.

'I didn't know that I was, until Anya told me about shaving some client's head. Then she told me she'd done it again and then she told me about you. We did a bit of what you might call "research" and Anya saw how much it interested me. There I go again' he said, looking down to the bulge in his towel.

I walked towards him and placed my hand over as much of his bulge as I could, pushing him back into the lounge.

'Sit down' I said.

He looked at the chair in the middle of the room, still surrounded by Anya's black hair, which had almost covered any trace of my own hair. He looked at me.

'For Anya' I said.

He sat down, but not before he took his towel off and threw it to one side. I was impressed at his powers of recovery as he sat there at full mast once more.

'One condition' he said. I looked at him.

'You sit down while you do it' he said, patting his thighs.

'Is there no stopping you?' I asked, wondering whether I could actually manage another session. The tell-tale sensation between my legs suggested that I could. I picked up the clippers and stood in front of him. He tugged the bottom of my towel, sending it flying across the back of the couch. I switched the clippers on and tried to work out the best way to approach my task. I thought the best way was just to mount him the way that I had used to clamber on to the back of an ex-boyfriend's motorbike. I bent forward and swung a leg, straddling him, before easing myself down gently onto his cock. I watched his face as I slid gently down to rest my backside on his thighs.

'Comfortable?' I asked. He nodded. 'Then I shall begin' I added.

He closed his eyes as I placed the clippers at his forehead. I squeezed his cock between my lips as tightly as I could while I made that first pass. That was the important one, the point of no return. He let out a little sigh as the clippers ploughed their furrow, brown hair building up along the length of the clippers and onto the back of my hand until I flicked it off.

'Your first time?' I asked.

'You can tell?' he replied laughing.

'A girl can always tell. It'll be better next time' I joked.

I enjoyed running the clippers over his head. It was so much easier than trying to do your own head. Even though it was somebody else, you could see what you were doing, wield the clippers more naturally. I knew that it would be easier to get off him to do the back, but I didn't want to! I stretched round the back of him, listening to his little grunts as I moved. I wasn't sure if I was hurting him or whether he was enjoying it. I just knew that I was enjoying clippering him and enjoying the sensation of having him inside me.

'Well, look at you two' I heard Anya say. I didn't know how long she had been standing there, but as I turned to look in her direction I saw her standing with Richard hugging her from behind. She hadn't bothered to cover herself up, so there she was again, succulent boobs on display, shaven mound just waiting for the attention that it was about to get from Richard's wandering hand.

'You know what this means, don't you?' she said. I wasn't sure whether she was talking to me or to Richard, because I had turned back to concentrate on what I was doing with Tom. She could have meant many things, but it definitely meant that Richard was going to be experiencing his fetish in a way that he perhaps hadn't planned when he set out from home. I made the final few strokes over Tom's head, eager to see Richard submit to the clippers. I had thought about asking him to do it and had always thought that I would be the one to initiate him properly into his own fetish. Now it looked like somebody else was going to do the deed. Was I disappointed? At that moment, I had enough to occupy me with Tom's cock demanding my attention. I was prepared to give up the clippers, give up the honour of shaving my own boyfriend, but at that moment, I wasn't prepared to give up my seat. I was comfortable where I was and that was quite clear to Anya and Richard.

To her credit, Anya got Tom to kneel down behind Tom, but in my full view. I could watch the process and gently work Tom at the same time. He had proved to be human after all and was quite content to sit there and let me squeeze him slowly and gently, so I carried on. Anya positioned herself behind her victim, bringing the clippers to life, and she swept the hair off his forehead in readiness. She looked at me almost defiantly as she paused the clippers just at his hairline. I squeezed Tom a little harder as I saw the first pieces of Richard's lovely hair slip to the floor. This is what Richard had been working up to for so long, whether he knew it or not. I'm not sure if Richard's gaze was focused on me or on the middle distance, but I smiled at him. I wanted him to be bald now more than anything. Tonight had confirmed our entrance into the hairless world as a couple and I couldn't see that we would leave it now. With every stroke of the clippers Richard became even more attractive to me. The sight of it would have made me wet if it wasn't for the fact that I was already being slowly and beautifully fucked by another man. Tom couldn't see what was going on, but his other senses would have told him that things were progressing. The clippers had been on for a while my little squeezes were starting to get stronger. Richard was nearly bald, I needed Tom to up the tempo, but he just calmly carried on as he had before. It was almost torture for a while, I wanted to be fucked hard and he was doing some sort of Tantric thing. There was no way that I was going to sit there for hours, not now, not with Richard being brushed down. I eased myself off Tom, much to his surprise and went over to where Richard was still kneeling. Anya squeezed one of my boobs and headed for Tom to finish what I had started. 

I drew Richard's bald head into my belly and held him tight, stroking him, caressing him before kneeling down in front of him. He knew exactly what I wanted, which probably coincided with his own need for release after having his head shaved for the first time, by a naked woman as beautiful as Anya. I watched Anya take my place on Tom's lap and then closed my eyes as Richard slid home. Tonight had been fun, letting me experience different partners, but I was where I wanted to be now, with Richard. With Richard inside me. He fucked me as I watched Tom gradually give in to the forces of nature and abandon his slow advance to climax. He stood up from the chair with Anya wrapping himself around him and then laid her down gently on the thick carpet. His thrusts were urgent now, racing Richard to the finishing line. The Beatles were playing in my head as Richard pounded me, but the idea of coming together was never likely to happen. We were close, though!

The evening came to a fairly swift close after that, basically on the grounds of fatigue! The four of us had probably exceeded our own expectations as to what we were capable of and when we tallied up the number of haircuts, shaves and fucks, we had to be more than happy! Richard and I showered quickly and then it was time for thanks and good-byes. Although Anya and Tom had been welcoming hosts, Richard and I needed to get back to our own place, away from further temptation. It was only on the way home that I realised just how hungry I was, so we stopped at a late night place for something to eat. We sat in the car and ate in silence, alone with our thoughts.

'I'm not sure that I could do that too often' Richard said as he started the car.

That's what I wanted to hear. I squeezed his thigh and smiled at him as he turned onto the road, wondering if there would be a next time.

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