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A lot of my long-time friends wondered what I saw in Veronica. After all, I’m the owner/CEO of a small but growing software firm, built it out of a rented warehouse, you get the idea. I’m more of the responsible type, they said. Veronica, on the other hand, was almost the opposite – she was a wild party girl, still living with her parents and off the interest of a trust fund or two. Both our parents and mine thought that we’d break up in a few days, but since the moment of our first date, things just clicked somehow.

I first met Veronica at a hotel bar. Me and my employees were there celebrating the fact that our company just went public. I had to make a phone call, and my cell phone’s batteries were dead, so I went to the pay phone. There she was, apparently calling a friend about next week’s assignment in art class or something. When she hung up, she looked at me and said, "OK, the phone’s yours." Then she looked at the party and said, "Hmmm, there’s a decent party around here for once." I said, "Thanks, it’s mine. The company I own just had it’s IPO today." I then introduced myself and told her about my company. She told me her name, and that she was an art student working on her MFA degree. While she was talking about herr specialties, I was thinking, "Now that’s an appropriate name." She’s an inch or two above average height, and she definitely has the face, figure, and thick, shiny jet-black, past the shoulders-length hair with bangs that reminded me of her comic book namesake. In real life, she looked like Liv Tyler, only curvier. I also wondered if she had a blonde friend named Betty……..

She asked me if it was a private party, and I said, "No, most of the employees brought their friends along. What the hell, what’s one more?" She said, Sure." I introduced her to the crew, we danced a little, drank a little, talked a bit, then she went to the bathroom and I remembered the phone call I had to make.

She was still in the bathroom when I came back, and when I went to the bar, Ron Kwan, one of our top code writers, said to me, "Man, Veronica must be desperate for a party if she’s here. I asked him about it, and he replied, "Oh, I’ve seen her around. She’s a trust fund babe, usually hangs out at the clubs with her set. I’ve seen her work on campus, too. She’s a better partier than an artist." I said, "Whatever," or something like that. I thought little about it when she came back to the bar.

We talked some more, exchanged phone numbers, then we went on our separate ways. When I came back to my place, I thought maybe she was OK, but I’d probably never hear from her again. OK, so I was wrong. She called me a week later, told me she’d bought a few shares of my company’s stock, and made a bundle (we sold out a big shipment of out latest game), and she wanted to celebrate. I thought she was lying, but I said OK, we set the date, and I went to the places where she and her crowd hung out. I wasn’t impressed with those places, but it was alright. Little did we realize it, but the date was the start of something big.

We started to get to know each other (in every sense), and we started to become a couple. While Veronica still had her wild side, she started to work harder in class and saved enough money to open up a small gallery after she got her degree. And while I’m as responsible as ever at work, I’ve learned to lighten up outside of it. Then came along the start of another shared obsession we have: Our hair fetish.

It started one morning at an executive meeting, when the question of raising money for a particular charity came along. We told the charity we’d do it, but the problem was figuring out how. At the spur of the moment, I made a suggestion, I giggled, "OK, how about if we raise $75,000, I’ll shave my head?" While we chuckled, we agreed, but then one department head after another said that they’d join me at the barber’s chair if we raised the money. Eventually, we raised $115,000, so at the first shareholder’s meeting, Veronica was there to see us as the clippers, scissors, razors and shaving cream came out.

George, the head of accounting, kept his head in a crew cut, so it didn’t take long for him to get smoothed out. Beth, our head of shipping, had a nearly perfect head revealed from underneath her mousey-brown shoulder-length bob. Ron, now our head of development, looked like a Buddhist monk after his shave. Kevin, our production boss, went from a shoulder-length cut to a totally smooth head. That, plus his goatee and muscular build, made him look like a pro wrestler. Audrey, our redheaded head of sales and marketing, was the lone holdout on the board, but she stunned everyone by lowering the skirt of her suit a little showing out company logo tattooed on the small of her back! Joan (our office manager)’s eyes looked bigger and her neck longer after her mid-back blonde pageboy hit the floor. Brian, our VP, was transformed from a slightly pumped-up Arsenio Hall (back when Arsenio had the fade) lookalike, to a slightly shorter Shaquille O’Neal lookalike after his shave.

Veronica was giggling and playing with her hair (then as long as Joan’s used to be) throughout the proceedings, and then Brian took the mic and said, "And now for the moment you’ve all waited for, here he is, the head of our company (soon in more ways than one), our founder and CEO!" Veronica, who didn’t believe that I’d do it, started laughing out loud and had her hands around her eyes when I came to the chair. "The Stripper" played in the background. Audrey wrapped the cape around my neck. Crowd members shouted, "Take it off! Take it ALL off!" The now dis-tressed department heads took one pass each with both the clippers and the razor. They even invited Veronica to take care of the middle strip of stubble that remained of my average businessman’s cut. After she did it, everyone applauded, and some of the heads asked her to sit in the chair. She refused, and obviously they were joking, so not much was made of it until Veronica and I went back to our hotel room.

As she started to rub my head, she said, "I can’t believe it! You actually did it! But I don;t mind, really. It feels so smooth, like my legs and bikini line after I have them waxed." To emphasize the effect, she rubbed one of her legs against one of mine when she said it. She said, "Thank God they were only joking when they asked me to sit down at that barber chair. I can’t believe what I’d look like, probably like Beth or Joan." I blushed a little, knowing that she saw me staring at them during and after their shavings. "Yeah, I saw you staring at those two, you naughty boy," she said playfully. I replied, "Of course I did, so did you, remember? It was different seeing them like that. Besides, how can you NOT stare at a bald-headed woman?"

Veronica said, "Yeah, you’re right. I don’t know if I could pull that look off, but on you, it works." By the time we were naked and in bed, she was stroking my head again. Then she tossed the back of her ebony mane on my un-locked head, and shook hers gently. I said, "Hey, it feels great on my end, too." After she wrapped a lock or two of her hair around my cock and played with both, I was ready to get it on – so we did.

After my shaving, I decided that Veronica was right, so I kept on shaving my head daily. I started to meet her old-money parents. While they were satisfied that for once, Veronica was dating someone decent, and that they liked that I was beginning to have a positive effect on her, whenever I left them alone, I could hear them argue over something. When I asked her about it, she said that they wondered if I’m going to marry her or not. So the next time I visited her folks, I showed her the ring and popped the question. She couldn’t say yes fast enough.

Summer seems to come early where we live, so that about a month from our June wedding, she said to me, "Man, I envy you in this weather. This ‘do feels like it’s on fire." I replied, "Well, I’ve got some scissors and razors in the bathroom, if you’re really up to it."

"Thanks, but no. You wouldn’t believe what my mother pulled on me the day after you proposed. You see, I get all of my trust fund money after I marry you, but there’s a provision in there that says my family, A.K.A., my mother, does all the planning. I’ve got to do everything her way. That means the ceremony, the reception, the dress, and yes, my hair. She says I’m not even supposed to let anyone touch it until her stylist comes in the day before, otherwise, I don’t get a cent! And I need that money for my gallery. Speaking of the gallery, at the opening – by the way, thanks for coming – you saw the looks those women with buzz-cuts got. But after we’re married, I’ll teach them a thing or two about attracting attention!" I said, "You’re welcome, and hey, she might run our wedding day, but she can’t run our wedding night (wink)." She understood.

June approached, and finally, the wedding day arrived. I didn’t see Veronica for two days before, since the last rehearsal, so when I saw her glide down the large cathedral aisle, I was glad that it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony! Veronica still looked cute, but her mom completely overdid it. Her gown was like an explosion in a lace and puffy satin mill. The bridal veil didn’t cover up a big upswept ponytail, the tail as curly as her mom’s stylist could get it. And when she lifted up the veil, it showed that her bangs were just as curly. I had to suppress a giggle when I said, "I do."

The ceremony and reception, nevertheless, was a success. We signed the marriage certificate, Veronica signed all the necessary papers to get her trust fund money, and we were married. At the bridal shower the night before, her friends wondered what she’d do with her gift "From her friends at the gallery" (a set of clippers), but they shrugged their shoulders, thinking she’d return them.

After I winked at Veronica a month earlier, I told her that when we got to the bed & breakfast for our wedding night, I’d go out for an hour or two. When I came back, she would be excatly as she was when we said our vows. I went to get my CD player and some leg shaving gel, and two hours later, there she was. Pretty as a wedding present. Ready for the unwrapping. On the bed was the clipper set, a razor, and two large pairs of scissors. She was standing on a bed sheet. Two camcorders with fresh long-life batteries were there, one turned on in front of her, one behind. I put my things on the bed and said, "Veronica, do you approve of what I’m going to do to you?" She raised her veil and said, "I do."

I turned on the CD player, and set it to repeat. The song was "The Stripper," just like at my first shaving. I gave her one pair of scissors, and I kept the other in my hand. I stepped behind her, trying not to block the back camera’s view of her. I gently pulled her curly ponytail, its end hanging to the small of her back, its end in sight. I opened up the scissors, bringing them to her waist level. Trying to keep in time with the music, I snapped the scissors shut. The cut end fluttered down to the sheet below (she placed sheets underneath her to catch all the hair).

Veronica took off her bridal veil, while I took off my jacket. Back to work. I snipped off her ponytail to mid-back length. She then pulled off her lace gloves, stopping halfway each arm to cut the fingers off of them before she doffed them. After I took off my bowtie, I made sure that her ponytail was now touching the bottom of her shoulder blades. Afterwards, she took her scissors and slit the sleeves of her wedding gown, then she cut them off at the shoulders, twirling them around like a stripper. I was admiring her handiwork while I took off my cummerbund.

Back to the action. I cut her ponytail to shoulder length. As I took my shoes and socks off, camera, Veronica cut off the lace bodice and collar with a devilish grin on her face. I cut her ponytail down to the nape of her neck. While I took off my cufflinks, she took her scissors and cut off the puffy shoulders from her gown. I then cut the ponytail in half. Afterwards, she pierced the top of her skirt with her shears and cut it off, the ruffled skirt flowing to the floor. After I cut off her tail to the top of her bun, she slid off her crinolines, revealing matching high-heeled shoes, stockings, garter belt and old-fashioned frilly panties.

As Veronica undid her bun, I took off my shirt, then went around to her front, and trying to keep time with the music, snipped off each curly bang one by one. She then shook her head, hair flying every which way. Following that, she snipped off each back button one by one. The remains of her gown soon met the remains of her ponytail. While she was shaking loose, I turned up the volume and plugged in the clippers, snapping on the longest guard in the set. When I came behind her, I saw that she had a tightly-laced corset on, matching her underthings perfectly. I started to buzz her with the clippers. When I was done with the first buzz, she unhooked the stockings from her garter belt while I took my pants off. With each buzz, the guards got shorter and shorter. With each buzz, her ebony mane got whiter and whiter. As Veronica looked at herself in the mirror, she said, "Well, I helped you to lighten up, now you’re doing the same to my head!"

With each buzz, she took off more; her garter belt, her stockings, her panties, leaving just a matching G-string. After a buzz with the shortest guard on, she took her scissors to the front lacing of her corset. She snipped lace after lace, until the last one, when she sucked in her chest before she cut the lace.

Her corset flew behind as she exhaled, her creamy 36D breasts exposed in front of the camera. Veronica then did the same to her G-string, revealing just a thin strip of pubic hair down the middle of her sex, as black as the hairs all around her feet. I took off my underwear, and with the guard off the clippers, I not only went for one last buzz of her head, but also that tantalizing strip pointing down between her legs. After that, I turned off the clippers and got out the shaving gel and a fresh Tracer FX, my personal favorite. I lathered up both her heads and then the razor went to work, making sure that not even the slightest stubble escaped. I turned the front camera towards the bed, as she sat on the corner with her legs spread wide open. The razor was just as effective on her pussy. For the grand finale, Veronica did the splits on the floor, showing off her smooth snatch. I turned off the back camera, cleaned off the bed, and lured her towards it.

As she spread her legs apart again, she said, "Ready for your first taste of married life?" "I’m as ready as you are," I said as I got into the 69 position. Needless to say, we didn’t sleep a wink that night. >;-)

The next day, my other present to her arrived at the b&b, just as I planned. It was a human hair wig, the same length and color as her hair was when we first met. A little something to wear outside, as well as to our welcome home party. With the wig on and a tan, Veronica looked like Demi Moore in "Striptease." Without the wig, of course, she looked like Demi in "G.I. Jane."

We had the welcome home party at Veronica’s gallery. We wrote on the invitations to our friends that they’d get a surprise when our parents left the party. So, after they left, Audrey asked, "Well, they’re gone, now what’s the surprise?" Melissa, Veronica’s friend and bridesmaid, said, "Hell, what happened to your wedding hairstyle?" Veronica just ran her fingers through her wig and said, "Oh, I just gave it the honeymoon off," as she slowly tugged it off her head. "If you think THAT’s the surprise, wait till you see this. Hit it, honey!" I turned down the lights and turned on the VCR, showing the edited version of our little "sniptease." And the unedited copy, showing what we did afterwards? That’s something they don’t need to see.

That was three years ago. We’re still together, and still doing well in our respective businesses. During our first year, we shaved each others’ heads every day for four months, until Veronica decided that she didn’t like staying bald as much as she liked getting bald. So, we compromised and agreed that she’d only get her head shaved on our anniversary, and not until her hair got to the length she had when she met me. I would also grow my hair back to a buzz cut in time for it to be shaved off on our anniversary, too. She couldn’t wait on our first anniversary, so she got hair extensions. For the following two, she wore a wig over a baldcap. Veronica says that she’ll let me shave her real hair on our fifth anniversary, when it should get down past her butt! I don’t know about you, but I know one guy who doesn’t forget his wedding anniversary!

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