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It was time... the hairpiece had to go by BaldBearded

*This story has references to gay sex, and relationships, it also has references to some themes that are specifically ethnically Jewish/Mid-eastern. It is about 30% hair reference, and the rest, love fantasy.

I warned you!

It was hot, brutally hot, and all Sammy wanted to do was to get out of his suit and tie, and take a shower. It was a hot, brutal, Friday afternoon in July. Despite the air-conditioning in his office, car and condo, he was sweating. Traffic was brutal, and he was a wreck.

Once he finally parked his car, took the elevator up, and unlocked his door, was fully drenched. Sammy pulled off the Armani jacket, the under-arms were soaked, so it needed to go to the cleaners. He stripped off his trousers, shirt, tie and underwear, and looked in the full length mirror in the hallway, near the bathroom. His olive-skin was taught, and while not muscled, he was lean, with lots of fur that showed off his Middle eastern background. A medium-length beard topped my a rather large mustache filled out his lean face. His hair, was medium-length and slightly curly, tapered around the back and sides, longer on top, with a long fore-lock that bounced when he tilted his head down. At 40, he had not a gray hair, he looked 25.

Kicking off his underwear, he slipped into the large bathroom. Sitting down at the small dressing table, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was handsome, he knew it, but his hair. All around the perimeter of his head, his hair was plastered to his head, he was hoping the taper he got would make that less obvious, but not in this weather. The top of his hair, however, remained totally dry. He wondered, if anyone at the office noticed this. During the rest of the year, it was no problem, but the summer months in Southern Florida killed him.

Sammy reached for a small bottle, and cotton ball, and started squirting some clear liquid from the bottle onto the cotton ball. He then proceeded to dab at his hairline. With his free hand pulled at the front of his hairline, while moving the cotton ball along it. Slowly his hair began to come away from his scalp. Sammy took another cotton ball, and repeated the process until his scalp was completely uncovered, and the hairpiece that was covering his head was free, in his hand. Sammy gently placed the hairpiece in a small plastic bowl, and began to wipe his scalp with more of the same liquid.

As soon as he had cleaned his scalp, he opened a second bottle, and added a dash of liquid to the bowl with the hairpiece, and then added some more water from the sink.

He sat down at the mirror again, and took a hard look at himself. He looked old, he looked every one his of 40 years, despite the lack of gray in his side hair and facial hair. He was bald, an old man. His eyes welled up with tears. How he hated his baldness. It made him miserable, and lonely. He would hardly socialize, and was afraid of letting anyone get close to him, let them know that he was bald. It’s not that no one tried. Many men lusted after Sammy. From High school to college, and then law school. Both men and women were after him at work, but he pushed everyone away. He desperately wanted a husband. There was a guy, in his building, whom he lusted after for years. Dave, the ER doc, Dave, with the motorcycle, Dave with the shaved head, big gray beard and big muscles. Every time Dave would try to speak to him, in the parking garage, elevator or a condo meeting, Sammy would just shy away from him. Now, after five years of trying, Dave gave up, and they just said brief hellos when passing.

Sammy hopped in the shower, and once he was done, felt a bit better. After soaking his hairpiece, he put it on a form to dry. Fridays, he would usually follow the same routing, wash he work hairpiece, and then wear his weekend hairpiece for going out with friends and family. 

He was in no hurry to re-glue his head, and walked around the condo, wrapped in a towel. Sammy dropped down on the leather sofa in the living room, and started looking through a photo album. Mostly of him, and his family. Sammy as a baby, Sammy, at his Bar Mitzvah with his big Yemenite family. There he was, with his first mustache, at 13. That picture certainly showed him his fate. His dad, both grandfathers, uncles and older male cousins. All furry, and in various stages of balding. There was not a male family member over 40 with a full head of hair.

Sammy at 14, a full head of curls. Then Sammy at 15, after his summer in Israel visiting family, with a full beard and his buzzed cut short, you could start to see, his hair started to thin.

It was that summer, in Israel, with his cousins in Tel Aviv that he noticed his hair was starting to thin. His hair had gotten pretty long. Big, thick, shiny curls bounced whenever he walked. Most Yemeni were proud of their curls, and the boys would not cut their hair until the army. During a shower, Sammy noticed that the water was not draining as it should. He looked down, and was shocked to see a clot of hair clogging the drain. There was no doubt that it was his. When he got out, and started to carefully comb out his curls with an afro pick, more hair came out. He started to freak, and called for his older cousin Ami. Ami quickly called his dad, and he came in to see what the fuss was about. Uncle Menashe was his father’s older brother. At 6’2", he was tall for a Yemenite for his generation, and like his father, Menashe was bald as an egg. Just a slight fringe of black hair, buzzed short.

Menashe came him, gave Sammy a hug, and told him to get dressed and to come into the living room when he was ready. When Sammy came into the living room, his Uncle, cousin Ami were there, and his Aunt Tzipi brought in some tea.

"Look Sammy, you need to understand something, the men in this family go bald, young. It’s in our genetics. It’s why you have a beard at 15, and are hairy as ape. I don’t know why your father didn’t tell you anything. I had this conversation with your cousin Ami here, when he turned 14, two years ago". Sammy didn’t think twice about it, when he came from the airport to find that in the two years since my bar mitzvah Ami had buzzed his curls off.

Sammy was upset, but not unsurprised. "So what do I do", he pleaded with his Uncle. "Do", his uncle said, with raised eyebrows. "Well, there is nothing much to do, we give you a haircut like your cousin here, and you go on with you life".

As if on cue, his aunt Tzipi went over to the huge cabinet and took a box out of a drawer. Menashe went and pulled out a chair from the dining table, and Tzipi brought in a sheet and a towel. Sammy was in too much shock to protest. He sat down, and his uncle Menashe fastened the towel around his shoulders.

The clippers came on with a thwack. Menashe had no mercy, and started immediately with Sammy’s forehead. Massive sausage curls started to fall, and Menashe peeled the hair off Sammy’s head from front to back. In five minutes, it was all over. Sammy ran to the bathroom, he was in shock. His bouncy curls were gone, replaced by stubble. What was more concerning, was that while most of his scalp was totally hidden by the black hair, there was a slight thin spot on his crown, and the front and sides showed some thinning as well. At least he would no longer have to deal with his hair, and the thought of clumps of it clogging the shower.

The rest of the summer, he really didn’t think about it, no one said anything, and his hair did not become an issue again, until he came home. At the airport, his parents were waiting with his brothers and sister. Everyone stood in shock as Sammy walked out with his pack. He was almost unrecognizable with his thick beard, and short hair. His mom, was upset. "Where is your hair"? Sammy hugged everyone, and explained to his mom that his Uncle Menashe buzzed his hair, after Sammy started seeing hair in the shower. Sammy’s mom was unhappy. "My baby is not going bald, you will promise me never to do that again". All during the ride home, Sammy’s parents argued back and forth.

During the next two years, Sammy let his hair grow, and by the summer of his 17th year, his hair had grown back, but it was not as it was before. The thick curls were noticeable thinner, and then, as summer started to heat up, his hair started to fall again.

This time, it was relentless. Each shower was another shock, hair in the shower, hair in his comb. He was now waking up to hair on his pillow. Now, even running his hand through his hair resulted in hairs coming away in his hand. He went to his parents bedroom, and took his mothers’ hand mirror, and looking in the triple mirror in their bathroom revealed the worst of his fears. Despite his curls, there was a noticeable bald spot at the back of his head. Brushing his hair back, revealed deep recession at both temples. He called for his parents, and showed them his hair. His father argued that he just buzz his hair, and forget about it. His mom, would not have it. "We are taking him to see a specialist. Since Sammy’s mom won every fight, Sammy was soon off to the dermatologist with his mom.

Dr. Schwartz examined Sammy’s scalp with a magnifying glass, moving his hair in different directions see see the extent of the loss. He scribbled some notes on then grabbed a small curl at the crown, and gave it a small tug. Almost effortlessly, the small lock of hair gave, and came out of Sammy’s head. The doctor was a bit surprised, usually only a few hairs would normally pull out, but not the whole lock. Sammy and his mom were also in shock. Dr. Schwartz sat down, and pulled out a chart, and pointed to the illustration for "IIIv". The doctor explained that basically, if he buzzed his hair short, he would be a Norwood III V, basically his front hairline has receded, and the crown has started to thin. "Given your genetics, early puberty and age, I expect you to be a IV by next summer, and a V the summer after that". The doctor also explained that he was not a good candidate for any of the drugs or lotions on the market, as his baldness was very aggressive. "You could get a hair transplant, but you are too young, and will need to wait at least 4-5 years, by which time you will have lost most the hair on the top of your head". You could get a hair replacement, or just do nothing.

In the car, on the way home, Sammy started crying. "Mama, I don’t want to be bald". Sammy’s mom, tried to calm her son. "Honey you heard the doctor, there not much we can do". "How about a hair replacement". His mother said that she would go with him, and see, and convince his father to pay for it.

Sammy and his mom started visiting hair replacement places, most were not sure of how to handle a client so young, as well as his "ethnic" hair type. Finally, they found a place that was owned by a distant cousin, and he went for the consultation. Since Sammy was likely to lose much of his hair anyway, it was suggested that make a unit that would cover most of the top of his head. Being that it was going to match his current hairstyle, the curls would have to be long, and that was going to cost $$$. They also explained to him the maintenance, what activities he could and could not do, and the need to have a spare, in case of emergency. All of this was going to cost his parents thousands, but Sammy pleaded with his mom.

The deal was signed, and the technician had Sammy take a seat as they made a mold out of the top of his head, marking the place his new hairline would start, and where the piece would end. He mentioned to Sammy that they would need to shave the entire top of his head, and he would have to keep it shaved, in order for the unit to stay in place. Sammy nodded in agreement, and went home. It would take two weeks to source the hair, and create the unit.

That night, Sammy took a shower, and began to comb his hair. Again, hair came out, in the brush, in his hands. He shook his head, and lets his curls take shape. With his right hand he grabbed a curl at the crown, and gave it a tug, the curl pulled free with little effort. He quickly realized that if kept this up, he would be bald, with two weeks before he could hide it.

The next two weeks did prove to be difficult, but finally the day came. Sammy’s parents drove him to the salon, and he was quickly seated. On a stand in the small room stood his new hair. A mass of shiny black curls. The technician washed Sammy’s hair, dried it, and gave him a final comb-out. As expected, the comb was full of hair. The technician pulled out the template they had made of Sammy’s head, and placed it squarely on top of his head. With one hand on the template the technician took a small pair of clippers, and made an outline of the template in Sammy’s hair. Then, the thing that Sammy was most dreading. With the same clippers, the technician began removing the hair on top of Sammy’s head. Memories of the Summer that Uncle Menashe gave him a buzzcut came back. But this was no buzzcut, the technician shaved Sammy’s head almost bald. The clippers were followed up by a straight razor, and quickly Sammy was shaved to a N6. He looked in the mirror, and he was shocked, he looked like a bearded Bozo the clown.

Quickly the technician attached some tapes to the unit, and spread some adhesive on Sammy’s front hairline. Then came the hair piece. Almost by magic, Sammy became the old Sammy. After a bit of blending, it was done. The technician gave Sammy a kit with lotions, chemicals and instructions. The unit would stay on 24/7, and only could come off in "emergencies". He was told to come back in a month, and call with any questions. In a month, he would be fitted with the backup unit, and would switch every month, to make them last longer.

Sammy’s mom was ecstatic, his dad less so, when he saw the bill.

And this was Sammy’s life for the next 23 years. Every month, back to the shop. As soon as Sammy was out of Law School, he quickly paid his dad back for the tens of thousands it cost for his hair. While his friends went on expensive vacations, Sammy paid for his hair. It cost him thousands a year, but he thought it was worth it, but in reality, he was miserable.

After a short nap, Sammy started to arrange his clothes for dinner. Friday dinner at his Parents’ was mandatory. Black trousers, white shirt, and his new, expensive Prada shoes.

Sammy sat down at the dressing table, took out his weekend hair piece, basically a copy of his work piece, but the curls were looser, and more relaxed, giving him a more causal look, without the need to over work the weekday piece.

Sammy took out his razor, and slowly shaved the top of his head. After a week, there was barely a a few hairs. He took out a small bottle and started to brush the top of his head with glue. Out came the piece, and with years of practice, the hair piece was snug on his head. He shook his head a few times… and he looked perfect. A couple of brush strokes to his beard, and stache, and he was ready to get dressed.

Ten minutes later he was in the elevator down to the garage when the elevator stopped, and in stepped Dave. His head glistened in the light of the elevator, just shaved. His beard was in a long braid, just gorgeous, he was dressed in leather, and had his motorcycle helmet with him.

"Hi Sammy, you look nice tonight". Sammy blushed, he was so in love with this man… but was to shy. "Thanks Dave, so do you". How Sammy wanted to be behind Dave, on his huge BMW, holding on to him, smelling him, and his leather jacket. He would not dare… not dare to put a helmet on his expensive hair… and then what, sex in bed? Never…. he would be discovered, it would be the end.

They got out, Sammy walked to his care, Dave to his motorcycle. Sammy’s eyes never left Dave. Dave waved, got on the bike, and rode away. Sammy spent the evening with his family, brothers, sisters, nieces and nephews. Everyone was happy. Even his nephew, Shimon, who at twenty, shaved his head bald, and was there with his girlfriend. Why was he not happy? It wasn’t fair.

In the kitchen it was just Sammy and his mother, and she noticed his mood, it seemed to be the default these days. "Why are you not happy my son"… Sammy was quiet. You are alone, it is not right. Look at your brothers and sisters, all married, with children, everyone is happy. You need to find a nice boy, and stop all of this. Sammy was shocked. "Mama", was all he could say. "Come on honey, a mama knows, always knows". Don’t be ashamed, your father and I love you, we want you to be happy, you need to find someone to love you". Sammy started to cry, he was happy that his mother was so supportive.

So what was it… what was stopping him, was it just his hair? Look at Shimon, he was 20, bald, and happy as hell. So were all of the males in his family, except him. Sammy was the the most successful, he had the most money, the nicest car, the best clothes and lived in a better neighborhood than the rest of his family.

After dinner, Sammy went home. In the garage, he noticed the motorcycle was back in it’s place. He rode the elevator back to his condo, and he was shaking. He knew what he had to do. He stripped off his clothes, and went into the bathroom. He pulled out his spray, and started to remove the hairpiece. He opened the cabinet, and took out his beard trimmer. Thwack, the noise brought him back. His hands were shaking, but be placed the buzzing machine at his right temple, and slowly moved back, peeling off a layer of thick, black curls. No going back, he continued, making sure to end his beard at the top of his ears. Next the left side, then the back. What a weird feeling…. after 20 minutes, he was done. Next Sammy hopped into the shower, and washed off all of the hairs on his head and shoulders. In front of the mirror again, Sammy took a fresh razor, and soaped his head, and began to slowly shave the stubble from the ring around his head. In ten minutes he was done. He was shaking. He looked at himself in the mirror. He had to admit that his head was perfectly shaped, and given his skin tone, was not too white.

He took the hairpiece, and it’s twin, the wash bowl, and all the very expensive chemicals, and tossed them all in the trash.

Now that this was done, he knew what the next step was. He quickly dressed in a pair of black jeans, black t-shirt, and grabbed is leather motorcycle jacket, the one that he bought, but never wore. Sammy looked at himself in the full length mirror in the hallway. He had to admit, he was hot. He was the guy in the magazines that he would have f***ed in a minute.

Dave left the condo, entered the elevator, and pushed the button for Dave’s floor. He was shaking, but somehow found the courage to ring Dave’s doorbell. Dave answered the door, and had a look of total shock on his face. He almost did not recognize the hunk in front of him. "Sammy, is that you". Sammy smiled "yes sir", I wanted to know if it wasn’t too late for a motorcycle ride". "F*** no, let’s do it".

Dave grabbed his jacket, his helmet, and a spare for Sammy. In the elevator down to the garage, Dave quizzed Sammy on his new look, and was also wanting to know that why, after all these years, Sammy finally relented and gave Dave a chance. "Ride first, and then I will tell you everything over coffee, my treat". Sammy mounted the big BMW after Dave was seated. They quickly exited the garage, and turned North onto the AIA. Sammy held on tight to Dave, smelling the leather of his jacket, feeling the steady vibration of the smooth German machine under him.

The stopped at a popular spot a bit North. Over coffee Sammy explained why he was so shy. It was so liberating being free of the hair… the thing that smothered him all of these years. Dave said that he new that there was something, but could never put his finger on it. He also said that he thought that Sammy was very handsome in his black curls, his black beard and shaved head were a huge turn on, and suggested they go back to his place.

Sammy was in a fog, barely remembering the ride back, and going up the elevator, and into Daves’ condo. They f***ed for hours, and exhausted, Sammy fell asleep, next to the big muscled man with the braided beard.

Sammy woke up to the smell of coffee, and Dave was naked, with just a towel. They ate breakfast, and made plans for later on that day. And managed to spend the entire weekend together. Sammy was in heaven.

Monday morning came, and as Sammy got out of the shower, he started to reach for his work hairpiece, only to remember, he did not need this bulls**t anymore. Everyone at the office was impressed by his new look. Sammy was elated, he had a confidence and self-assurance that he had not had in years.

He saw Dave every night that week. When Friday came, he presented his family with his new look. Everyone was happy, except his momma, who cried because she missed his curls. In the kitchen, washing the dishes, as was their custom, Sammy’s mother broke the silence "my darling, you are happy, what is going on". Sammy blushed "I met a man". "And for this man, you got rid of your beautiful hair". "No mama, I got rid of my hair because it was making me unhappy", once I was free of the hair, I was free to meet the man. "Well then, if you are happy, then I am happy, and you will bring this man to our house next Friday night, I will not take no for an answer".

Sammy saw Dave that night, after his parents, as they were alternating between his and Dave’s condo, just after a week. "My mom wants you to come for dinner, on Friday night, you are free to say no". "You mean for Shabbat, I would love to." You are Yemeni, right, does you mom make soup with beef or chicken". Sammy’s Jaw dropped, "um beef, chicken is for poor folks", how do you know this?" Dave laughed, because when I visit my family in Tel Aviv, I go to this great Yemenite restaurant in the Yemini quarter, and I love the soup".

Sammy was stunned. "So wait, you are Jewish, and a doctor my mother is going to faint." Dave was laughing. "You know, had you had the balls to shave your head five years ago, we would not be having this conversation now". "My father is Austrian, and my mother’s family is Polish", I was born in Israel, and moved here when I was a child.

The week flew by, and when it was time for Friday night dinner, Dave was dressed just like Sammy, black trousers, and white shirt, his beard neatly tucked, as not to cause too draw too much attention. Sammy’s mother had prepped the family that Sammy was bringing a "friend" to dinner, and everyone was to be on their best behavior. They arrived, and were greeted warmly. Sammy’s father was impressed at Dave’s ability to recite the traditional blessings, and slipped into the family discussion with ease. Sammy was in heaven. After dinner, washing dishes, while Dave played video games with the kids in the den, Sammy and his mom had their usual Friday night talk. "So are you going to marry this one". "You are not getting any younger my child, and I still expect grandchildren from you". Sammy was exasperated… "I know mamma, but it’s been two weeks". His mom gave him a swat on his freshly shaven head with a tea towel and proclaimed "Jewish Doctors don’t grow on trees".

Sammy and Dave continued to date, Sammy learned what it was like to have his head shaved during sex in the shower… and enjoyed it, greatly. Sammy also was learning to relax, and to also ride a motorcycle. After six months there was a new BMW in the garage, in the place where Sammy’s car was. He and Dave did so much together, there was no need for four vehicles. Sammy had, on Dave’s instance let his beard and mustache grow, and after a year, he could braid his thick, black beard, just like Dave.

At dinner, on their one year anniversary of their first date, Dave suggested that they sell their condos, and buy the duplex penthouse on the roof, which had just come up for sale. Sammy was happy about the idea, and jokingly said to Dave "you mean live in Sin, my family will not be happy about that". Without missing a beat, Dave pulled out a leather box, and handed it to Sammy. "I knew you would say that, so I came prepared". Sammy opened the box, and it contained two rings, tied together with a red leather strap. Sammy had tears in his eyes, "You will marry me, right". Sammy was almost bawling, and barely got out the word "yes".

The wedding was a big affair, with family coming in from all over. At the chuppa, his mother cried, and when the grooms both broke the glass, everyone cheered. Sammy beamed at his tall, bald bearded husband and reflected on the fact that had he NOT shaved his head, he would probably not be standing there that day.

And they remained happily shaved ever after!

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