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I admit to having a hair fetish. I find it a bit annoying at times. I like girls with long hair and then I try to convince them to cut it to satisfy my fetish. I like them to leave it in rollers so that I can finger comb the curls out. I like the feel of it as I brush out the long locks.

Now, I’m married to a girl named Regina. Regina found out about my hair fetish after we were married but suspected something before we got married. Still, it created a nice "discussion" as we married men call it. Regina had long black shinny hair to her waist which I enjoyed playing with the challenge of convincing her to cut it.

One day my lovely wife comes up to me and says she wants to take a trip. A long trip. A trip to Paris, France for a week. Now, I’m not afraid of flying per say but I have never had a smooth trip when it involved flying. A trip to Paris meant eight to ten hours in an airplane. I told her to take a relative but she said it was my husbandly duty to go with her. She then made me an offer that a man with a hair fetish can’t refuse. She would let me cut her hair upon return from the trip. That sealed the deal. I had been bribed by the best. The idea of being able to remove over half of the hair on her head excited me no end.

We flew from our local airport to Chicago with no problems. They had given us sandwiches to eat on the first flight. We boarded the plane to Paris, France and it was one full aircraft. Shortly into the flight I discovered that the little sandwich had given me a big case of the runs. Then I discovered that any stomach medicine we had was safely secured in the baggage compartment and not the carry on bag that I needed. To make my flight worse I discovered that the flight stewards can’t give out any medicine. A cup of hot tea was all they could offer me. Needless to say it was a long, long flight to Paris.I more than once looked at my wife’s long hair wondering if my suffering was going to be worth removing that raven colored mane.

We got to Paris found the luggage, cleared up my stomach and we spent a week having a blast. We saw all the sights and I once or twice tried to convince her to have her hair cut by a Parisian Hairstylist so she could brag about it later. She turned me down flat. A deal is a deal. Paris is truly a must see city.

We had an nice flight home with the Pepto Bismo in my pocket and in the carry on bag.Then a few days later I discovered I had a fever which took me to my doctor which I learned that I had gotten a sinus infection. My head felt like it would blow up and my misery index went pretty high. Then my beloved Regina walks in and tells me that tonight is " Haircut night". I pleaded for postponement due to health conditions but she said it was tonight or just trims for the next six months or longer. Due to my hair fetish I knew she had me by the balls. I went to get my haircutting equipment after telling her to curl the ends of her hair.

Down on the stool she sat. I brushed her hair and took a few pictures of the about to start makeover. I parted her hair to top of the ear length and straight across. The bulk was pinned to the top of her head. From this bulk I took a love lock of 36 inches. I then grabbed the clippers and turned them on as they had work to do. I put on a small guard as to leave a little fuzz and told her to bend her head over. I relished the sight of the bottom of her neck being cleared of the black mass that laid over it. I made several passes down and up to make sure it looked nice. I took the guard off and shaved the bottom inch as close as possible as I really liked kissing the nape of the neck.

Letting down the bulk of her hair that had been piled on her head I heard her tell me not too short and I told her not to worry. I wanted her after the haircut to look nice too. I wanted her to say with pride that " My husband cut my hair." I combed her long black hair and tried to imagine that it belonged to Catherine Zeta Douglas and not my wife. I brought the scissors to right below her chin and snipped away. I just loved the feel of the hair being cut free and me putting it in a box as my trophy. A trophy I could look on down the line when her hair turned gray and me old. Right to left I cut pausing to take a few pictures of the in progress scene.

I then wetted the hair down and made sure it didn’t have any loose ends plus it allowed me to take off another inch or two during this evening it out phase. I blew dry her head and then enjoyed as her hair bounced and swayed as she shook her head. I spent a few minutes kissing and caressing the now bare neck line. She looked terrific without the waist length hair just like I thought she would. I had done it with barely enough energy to spare.

I laid down for a nap and woke up the following morning. I had paid a price for my fetish and the hair in the box and my wife’s new look. I relieved it was over and really glad when my sinus infection cleared up a few days later. I learned that there is pain in having a hair fetish and yet they say; no pain, no gain.

Hope you liked the story.. Mr. Snips.

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