THE VIRGIN SHAVER
The story of my first time at the razor. This is as detailed as I can remember. I’ve written shorter versions but this is more definitive. In 1977 I was living in New Orleans and dating a young woman named Rita. She lived in a large 2-story shotgun double house with a lot of rooms which she rented to other women. Rita was about 5’6″, slim build, hazel/blue eyes, fair skin and past-shoulder length fine straight brown hair, which at the time I really liked in comparison with the bland disco cum Dorothy Hammill styles I’d seen. We went to a lot of small clubs, really dives, where the local bands played. I was a musician and Rita knew a lot of other musicians and we all hung out. We were bemoaning the coming of Disco (New Orleans was a little behind the rest of the country as usual) as it limited the number of places for bands to play. Then punk started to hit as an alternative to the plastic disco sounds and the art-fusion rock. I admit to being unimpressed with the sound, finding it crude (later I realized that WAS the point) but I was awestruck by the look. I’d grown up in the time of everyone growing long hair, both sexes, and admit to trying to grow mine as long as possible at times. When I first saw people wearing Mohawks, buzz cuts, and other “user-unfriendly” fashions I was at first shocked and later fascinated…and I became more fascinated as I saw more clipped female heads, and discovered how attractive it could be. Rita, her 2 housemates, Terri and Sue, and I discussed these new styles as we started seeing them and we were all open to new stuff it seemed. One night I went to Rita’s and found Sue and Terri setting up in the big upstairs room. They had a sheet out, and on the end table were combs, scissors and a barber clippers like the ones used for my crew cuts as a boy. I was surprised but interested, and so was Rita. We made a party of it, laughing and cracking jokes, but before long Sue’s mid-back length black curls were falling to the floor, landing in clumps on the sheet as Terri scissored off strand after strand. Then she turned on the clippers which I saw had a “long” attachment and began to shear off more hair; soon Sue was cropped to about 1/2″ all over, and she looked fresh, a little shocking but nice somehow. Then they traded places and Terri let Sue cut her thick straight blond hair, which was past her shoulders, maybe 18″ long and a very pretty honey color. Before long the clippers were in Sue’s hand, cutting Terri’s crop identical to Sue’s. When they were both done, they hugged and rubbed each other’s newly shorn heads and looked in the big mirror in the hall for what seemed like an hour. I kept looking too, as did Rita. Then the girls left to go out and show off their new look. After we were alone, Rita asked me if I liked the such short hair on women, and I said that I did now, after seeing how open and visible their faces were without all the long hair to hide behind. She asked if I’d like it on her. “Of course I would” I blurted out. “OK, let’s do it. I’ll meet you in the bathroom” she said as I ran to the other room to get the now-silent clippers. we met up in the large old-fashioned bathroom with tile floors and a big tub- the kind with the legs! I began by combing her fine hair, and lifted her neck and kissed her nape gently. Then I took the scissors and cut it off at chin level, and quickly grabbed the clippers and flicked the switch. They turned on with a shudder and settled into a low hum. I lifted them and started at Rita’s neck and pushed them slowly upward, watching her hair pile up on the blade and then fall off. It was a bit surreal, as if time was in slow motion. Soon I had finished her back and was working my way around, then on top, leaving soft springy short hairs in the clipper’s wake. I finished and made a few more passes for evenness. Rita’s neck was covered with hairs; I gently brushed them off and began to kiss her neck more intently. She looked in the mirror and felt her cropped head, and was delighted. “I’ve never had short hair before” she giggled ” but I love it now” Then we went to her room…. The next week all the clipped girls got a lot of attention when we went out. They liked the stares and comments, mostly favorable, and liked both being very trendy and modern and also enjoyed the ease of care- these were all women that had spent a lot of time on their hair and now spent minutes only. Then one night Rita and I were at our favorite spot when a girl entered, and I saw that she was completely shaved bald. I stared until she left and Rita noticed too. I’d never seen a bald woman, for sure not a young pretty one, and I was hit hard. Her head was totally shaved, not a hair on it, just a faint color change of tanned skin and somewhat darker scalp. I guess she had dark hair before, and now without it her features looked so large and strikingly lovely. When we got to the car, Rita asked why I was “gawking” at the bald girl. I told her I though it looked wonderful. Then we drove to her house. When we got inside she said meet me in the bathroom. I was more excited than I could believe. In the bathroom Rita stood holding the clippers and whispered “shave me bald so you’ll look at me like you did at HER” I sat her in a chair and began to remove the rest of her 1/2″ worth of hair; when she was buzzed to a millimeter of stubble I began lathering her head. She handed me her razor, the same one she used to shave her legs and I scraped the stubble off her white scalp. She had a nicely shaped head and neck and I was getting a bit turned on as I shaved away. I remembered the times we’d both sat in the big tub, and I’d enjoyed watching Rita shave her legs- and here I was using the same razor on her head! When I finished I wiped off any remaining lather and washed her scalp. It felt strange, hard and soft at the same time, and even though smooth I could feel the hint of stubble like on my face after shaving. I really got off on touching her head, and I think she liked it too, as she began to stroke her scalp too. Again we headed to her bedroom and had a fantastic, exciting night together, even more than ever before. When her roommates saw her the next morning they were speechless for a few minutes, then they had to touch Rita’s bare head. Almost all her friends thought it great. None of them shaved too, but all were supportive. She stayed bald until she moved away about a year later. I last heard of her in Mexico, studying sculpture. I wonder how long her hair is now?