I was driving around this evening, and passed by the Great Clips on Jungerman Rd. I could see a dark haired BBW sitting in the first chair, just waiting for someone to come sit in her chair. I've been a bit bored with my hair lately, and Robyn has mentioned that she kind of likes the way my hair looks in some of my old military photos. The way she looks at my hair when she talks about it has made me wonder just how much of a turn on it could be for her. So, I parked my car and headed in.
The stylist's name was Linda. She was very busty, and deliciously plump all around. Even with as big as her mid section was, she still had Belly-Do Boobs, and the thought of this big soft woman sending all of my hair to the floor was making my hormones surge. I like curvy women, but Linda was a bit bigger than what catches my attention; something about her dark bobbed hair, and dark make up with red lips just looked "right."
She took me back to her chair, and caped me. She put a cloth strip around my neck, and then the blue satin cape flew around my body, draping me past my quivering knees. I moved my arms around just a bit to settle the cape into position, and to make sure that there was a slight depression in between me and where the cape dropped off tot he floor at my knees. I wanted to watch the hair collect there in my lap as it was sheared off of my head and slid down the front of my body. My hair has been growing for quite some time, and my bangs easily come to the bottom of my nose. Just how short did I dare to go? was the only question racing through my mind.
"So, what are we doing with your hair today?" Linda asked. I wanted this haircut to to take a while, so I didn't want her to just run the clippers over my head and be done 5 minutes later. I wanted to hear the scissors snip the hair away, and watch the long wet locks fall into my lap. I wanted to feel the clippers running up the side of my head. And, I also didn't want to go too short, jut in case Robyn doesn't like the way the short hair looks on me. I needed something that, worst case scenario, would be combing over on top within just a couple of months.
I told her, "I want to chop it all off, but still have some hair to gel or spike up on top. How about taking the top down to about an inch long, with the scissors, and then buzzing the back and sides with a #4 guard?"
"Sure, I can do that." she replied. "But I could use a #8 guard on top, and buzz that all even at an inch long. Same length, but the clippers would make sure it's all even on top."
I really wanted to watch her take the scissors to wet hair, but I couldn't think of any way of saying that to her without sounding creepy or somehow revealing my hair fetish. So, I agreed to let her use the longer guard to buzz the top.
She got out her clippers, and started fishing around for the #8, 1 inch, clipper guard. By this time, the other two stylists in the salon had finished with their clients, and had taken seats in other chairs so that they had an unobstructed view of my shearing. hair stylists love watching lots of hair come off of someone's head. I guess they get tired of quarter or half inch trims, so when someone is about to let the hair really fly, they want to watch (if not actually be the one to do it).
My attention was snapped back to my reflection in the mirror, as the clippers popped to life with a delicious hum. "You're sure? You want it all buzzed off?" I nodded yes, and said "take it all off." (I love saying that to a woman with clippers in her hand. Some day, I'll say that to a lover, hopefully a woman that is my wife, and she will literally take it ALL off. All the way down to the skin, and shave my head bald.)
Linda pulled my bans straight up, and plunged the hungry blades of the clippers into my hair. She pushed them back a couple of inches past my hairline, then dropped the hair into my lap. thank goodness I had a hair cape on, because I immediately popped a boner. Between 4 and five inch long strands of hair fell in front of my face, and landed in my lap. She picked up another lock of hair to the left of what had just been shorn, and repeated the same motion; buzzing the hair till it came free in her grip, then dropping it into my lap. She repeated this motion until she had worked her way all around forehead, and short tufts of hair stood straight up on my head for the first inch or two deep into my hairline.
As Linda continued to buzz the top of my head, she realized that the further back she tried to go towards my crown, the clippers were having difficulty shearing the hair all at the same length without her having to pick up individual locks of hair and manually feed them into the guard of the clippers. After a few minutes, she turned the clippers off, and said that she needed to get rid of some of the bulk of my hair before buzzing it even all over.
She picked up a spray bottle, and started wetting my the top portion of my hair down. She spritzed until I could see my hair starting to drip down my face. She grabbed a towel, and briefly ran it across my head, then pulled a large comb through my hair from front to back.
Next, she picked up her scissors, and started combing up large sections of hair, and slicing through them with her scissors. The sound of scissors crunching through my wet hair was absolutely magical to my ears. The way it made the schnick, schnick, schnick sounds as each line of hair was pulled up and sheared away. The way they made a clicking "snip" sound as they came together at the end of the hair pulled up by the comb. And the long strands of wet hair fell down the front of my body and literally "plopped" heavily into my lap. A pile of wet hair quickly collected in my lap. I watched with glee as she combed up section after section and my hair fell from my head.
Several minutes went by (way too fast for my preference), and then there was nothing left to comb up and snip away. The back and sides of my head were already cut down to about an inch and a half, so there was no need to cut any bulk away from there. The hair on top of my head stood straight up, in spikes of damp bristles. The hair at the sides of my head laid down flat against my head, giving the appearance of a man with male pattern baldness, but where a toupe of spiky hair had been set on top of his head. A part of me would have loved to watch a bare clipper blade mow down the center of my head, and make the bald effect all the more apparent.
She ran the towel over my head for a moment, and made sure it was dry enough to take the clippers to it again. She picked up the WAHL clippers on her counter, and clicked them back to life. My hair was now short enough for her to literally mow it all down to a uniform length. She started with the top, and them moved around the back and sides. Bits of hair, half an inch to an inch long, rained down in their wake; joining the hair in my lap.
Once Linda was sure that every last hair on my head was no more than an inch long, she turned the clippers off and ran her comb through what was let to flush out any stray clippings. She grabbed her blow dryer, and air dusted my head to get any stray hairs off my head, off of my face, and then she turned it towards the pile of hair in my lap; sending the fur equivalent of a small down sliding to the floor.
The other stylists sat riveted to the show before them. One asked how short Linda was going to take the back and sides, or was it all going to be one length. She replied that the sides would be shorter, and asked me what guard I wanted her to use. I know that I had originally said that I wanted the sides left at least half and inch long (A #4 guard) but my adrenaline was pumping, and I was turned on; so I told her to take it down to 1/4" long with a #2 guard.
She smiled as she reached for the other clipper guards in her drawer (I realized that she had remembered me saying half an inch earlier, and she knew I had changed my mind to go shorter.) A panicked though flittered through my mind, does she know how turned on I am by my hair being shorn off right now, or does she have some sort of hair "fetish" or fascination herself? Either way, it was obvious that she was enjoying taking all of this hair off of my head.
Linda was much more methodical and slow with the process of taking the back and sides down short. I think part of her rush to take the long hair off the top of my head, was partly to prevent me from changing my mind about going quite that short, and partially because she enjoyed taking all the long hair off of my head and watching it fall into my lap. She had made certain that all of the hair cut from my head went into my lap, and I caught her looking me directly in the eye as I glanced down to the growing pile of hair and back up to the hair being sheared from my head. She knew I was enjoying it, and it amused her.
Linda carefully buzzed the back and sides, and faded it straight up as she neared the longer hair on top. It looked much more like a very long high-n-tight, than it did a simple buzz cut or crew cut. I knew I would miss my longer hair (Some day, I might even grow it out really long, and not into a mullet like in high school), but the buzz cut was getting me turned on. I just hope that Robyn thinks so too, when she sees me on Thursday.
My entire haircut took just under half an hour, and I found myself climbing up out of the chair; with a huge pile of hair on the floor. each of the stylists took turns running their fingers through the soft bristles of my brush cut. I tipped Linda very well, and walked out the door to my car. I couldn't stop running my own hands over my head.
My hair was gone. It was nearly all gone. Shorter than I've had it in a long time.