I have always found myself drawn towards different interests and pursuits than my peers and it appears that this extended itself towards my taste in women, whilst as a teenager my circle of friends was letting their hormones run wild over long haired, buxom blondes, and in general those below the age of twenty-five I found myself drawn towards different looking women, those that had a uniqueness all of their own, a uniqueness that in my eyes gave them a beauty far more deep than the stereotypical blonde clones that so inspired and ensnared my friends.

The same was true of our crushes; we all remember how we had a crush on a teacher at school, and again there were teachers that regularly featured in nearly everyone’s top three. Usually they were some shade of blonde, and depending on the era you grew up in were probably a famous actress or singer. As a child we soon work out that the best way to get along is to be belong, so when with the group I would agree with their choices, only as I matured did I have the confidence to assert my own views, but I guess back then I lacked the confidence to be anything but a sheep. I guess that is why I chose the objects of my desire that I did, I recognised their uniqueness, they chose to present themselves in a different way and this must have struck a chord on my fledgling psyche.

The most popular teachers were those that were young – a comparative measurement, only the application of hindsight leads me to retrospectively label these teachers as being young, no doubt they were, being under 30, however when you are twelve or thirteen anyone more than twice your age is positively old. So understandably the focus if the majority was on those that were either visible under thirty, or those that desperately tried to cling onto this magical milestone. This made my choice of cause-celebre all the more unusual for without doubt I know now that when I lusted after her Mrs Guild, my English teacher was of an elder age group than the intended “beau’s” of my peers.

Not only was she on average ten years older than the female forms that exercised the immature libido of my friends but Mrs Guild looked different from them too. She had a confidence about her that meant she didn’t need to supplement her delicate beauty with make up, she had a pale complexion, and very striking and defined features, her eyes were dark, but should pleasure often and they twinkled as they did, I can never recall her having ever worn make up, and her scent, if she ever wore any was as delicate a fragrance as was possible, again my sense of smell another facet of her uniqueness. Of course this is not to say that Mrs Guild wasn’t popular with her colleagues, she was, I would often see her in small groups that chatted animatedly and seemed to revolve around her. Her physical differences extended beyond her facial features, she was taller than average, her breasts didn’t qualify her for “babe” status, not that that was any mark of achievement in my eyes. Her attire wasn’t that of the latest fashion, she appeared to clothe herself in those clothes that made her comfortable, she also seemed to choose clothes that were be definition feminine, she seemed to shy away from trouser suits and the power dressing that was the vogue of the 80’s, preferring flowing skirts, and tailored dresses, that were timelessly classic.

However the most distinctive feature of Mrs. Guild was clear to see, where the majority of her female colleagues had flowing tresses, cascading down onto and more often than not beyond their shoulders Mrs. Guild has her hair cut in what was described by those with a stunted vocabulary as a crew cut, or more brutally a “skinhead.” My friends derided her for her masculine cut, I was intrigued, excited, full of wonder, maybe this is why I excelled in English, I was inspired by the teacher, engrossed in her words, keen to seek her approval, her confidence, her friendship.

I often would find myself the last out of class, having been the first to arrive, unruly in other classes I was almost angelic when Mrs. Guild was instructing us, I joined all the clubs that Mrs. Guild ran, literary studies occupied two lunchtimes a week, drama group my Wednesday evenings, but they all meant that I could be closer to her. I am sure that Mrs. Guild must have had an inkling, maybe she considered that was being a bit too clingy, I am sure that as she walked around the school corridors she stopped, turned and considered why I was always there, sometimes its as if my following her wasn’t enough, I wanted to be her shadow.

And so naturally, or naturally as I consider now, she became the subject of my first masturbation fantasy, I imagined her and I alone in a room, Mrs. Guild wearing a flowing skirt, reading to me and me alone, stoking the back of her head, an action that she did repeatedly and one that I am sure gave her much excitement as she felt the soft caress of her short hair. Gradually my fantasies developed (descended?) into more baser instincts, I began to fantasize about her naked form, then I would become more bolder and I would think about touching her, then pleasuring her and having her pleasure me.

School holidays were the worst, up to six weeks of enforced separation, I am sure that my moods changed as I became unhappy at my source of excitement and pleasure being absent from my life, however the school holidays I dreaded so were to give me one of the most exciting times of my life. The hot days of August were dying out, September was on the horizon and so was the return to school, the few days before schooling resumes must be one of the busiest times to be a hairdresser, or barber, as flocks of children are herded into establishments were the growth of summer is reigned in once more, and it seemed that boys were the most numerous victims of this activity. Long since familiar with this right of passage I found myself deciding that I needed to get my haircut, finding that my usual barbers were closed I walked to the other end of town and walked through the door of a unisex stylist for the first time. The salon had two chairs, both of which were occupied and I was the only person waiting so I duly took a vacant chair and waited. As I sat down the stylist spoke up, she told me that I was lucky as I would be their last customer today, she confirmed her intent to cut no more hair after mine by going to the door and displaying the closed sign. There was a youth, no older than me who had just finished sweeping the floor, he seemed pleased to be told he could leave, and after being paid her left the salon. This left me, waiting my turn, a woman who was just having a mirror showed to the back of her head and the other chair, the other chair, which when I looked was occupied by Mrs. Guild, my Mrs. Guild, was sitting in the same room as me, was sitting in a chair, in front of me, about to get her haircut.

Dumbstruck I cannot recall my response as she greeted me, I am sure that I blushed, although how my body could spare the blood for this I wasn’t sure as it appeared that the majority of my blood was on an emergency mission, seeking out the fastest route to my cock. I felt my erection test out the fastness of my zip as the other customer passed between me and Mrs. Guild, I was oblivious to the actions and discussions at the till as I was focused, mind, body and spirit on Mrs. Guild. I know that stylist number two said goodbye and went home for the night, as soon there was only three of us, when asked if I minded waiting I summoned up enough alertness to shake my head.

My entire focus was on the sight in the chair before me, I heard Mrs. Guild talking to the stylist, no doubt the usual chat, with the same questions being asked for the twentieth time that day. I saw Mrs. Guild’s stylist pick up clippers and push the object of my desires head forward, I watched as the clippers entered the hair at her nape and stared a
s they were pushed up her head. I saw a pale strip of skin revealed at her neck, the sun had tanned her neck, but had been unable to reach the delicate skin hidden at her hairline. The next pass of the clippers overlapped this, more hair fell to the floor, I saw pale scalp revealed, I adjusted my position in my chair, as carefully as I could I drew a newspaper across my groin to hide my throbbing excitement.

Having finished at the back of her head the stylist paused, Mrs. Guild spoke, to me, asking if I had enjoyed the holidays, if I hadn’t I was now, although I wasn’t about to tell her that. Although the end of August I felt as if all my Christmases had come at once, the stylist adjusted the chair, turning Mrs Guild to a 90-degree angle to the mirror. It meant that I had a side on view of her as the clippers were bought to her temple and then drawn towards the back of her head, I followed the hair as it tumbled, shorn free by the clippers it tumbled down her face, over her ears, passed her hoped earrings, it bounced on her shoulder before falling to the floor, where it lied motionless, and stranded. Soon more hair joined it, and with the third pass even more. Mrs. Guild now had half her head clipped to about one quarter of an inch; I was itching to ease my zip by the same amount however I knew that if I did my excitement would spring forth.

Mrs. Guild’s outlook was changed through 180 degrees and as I saw the left side of her head clippered I rubbed myself through my trousers. The faint metallic cling of clippers against earrings bought me around from my daydream, and looking into the mirror I was fixed by the return gaze of my teacher, she smiled at me, as if she knew. She moved her left hand to steady the motion of her earring as it delicately swayed. She caressed her cropped head as her hand made its way back to her lap, how I wanted to feel what she had just felt. I was aware that I was being spoken about and the stylist turned to look at me and smiled too, I struggled to contain myself, the last thing as well as the only thing I wanted to do was orgasm, I longed to free myself and show the stylist and in particular Mrs. Guild the effect she had on me.

She was straightened up again and the stylist stood behind Mrs. Guild, I coughed deliberately and dislodged the newspaper, it fell to the floor and I moved to pick it up, sitting down again in a different chair, a chair that gave me a better view of the clippers, the clippers that were now being placed at her forehead. The were drawn back to her crown, they met little resistance freeing hair to fall to the floor, as had happened on her neck and sides three passes of the clippers were sufficient to remove the bulk of any hair that extended beyond the guards. The stylist then changed the angles of the clippers as well as her line of sight; she wanted to be sure that the cut was even and uniform. I became conscious of the room quieting, the clippers had stopped, I saw the stylist rubbing shaving foam around Mrs. Guild’s hairline before shaving it away to leave a precise and sharp hairline.

It was all over too soon, the haircut had climaxed, I fortunately hadn’t, not that I didn’t want to I longed to but I knew that the embarrassment would have been too much, despite my urges. I felt crushed as Mrs. Guild left the salon, saying goodbye to the stylist, but then she paused and said goodbye to me as well, I gave the best reply that I could. As I waited as she walked up the road the stylist beckoned me into the seat, the hot seat, the very chair that Mrs. Guild had just vacated. However the her stylist and now my stylist wasn’t ready and excusing herself she left the front of the salon to the room behind.

Her absence gave me sufficient time to gather up a harvest from the floor, I grabbed two handfuls of Mrs. Guild’s hair and stiffed each handful deep into my pocket, as I put the hair in I felt my own hardness. I kicked around the hair that remained, so to disguise my scavenging, as the stylist returned I was just settling down in the chair as she put the cape, the very same cape around my shoulders and asked me what I wanted. I knew what I wanted.