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My First A-Line Bob by haircoward


This is a true story that takes place about a year and a half after the story "My First (and Last) Bald Undercut". In that time, my undercut had finally grown out, and I'd cut the rest of my hair from around mid-back to a couple of inches below my shoulders so it would all be even.

I was seeing the same girl and had "come out" to her regarding my hair "interest".

* * *

There are a lot of hairstyles that I've coveted and wanted to wear so badly it hurt, but there are few that come close to being quite as special and sensual to me as an A-Line bob. That juxtaposition of softness and severity. The hard lines, and soft crown. The buzzed nape. There's just something about it that really got to me... and still does. I still remember the first time I ever saw one. One of the women at work had gotten her hair cut. She didn't lose too much length in the process, having gone from just a "straight across" chin-length bob to one that still ended at her chin, but angled up to around the middle of her ears in the back.

I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

Then, my girlfriend, who worked with me, mentioned that the woman with the hot new A-Line looked like she had "half a deflated football" on her head. She was NOT a fan of the style at all. Meanwhile, I couldn't get enough of it. While I often fantasized about having my (just below shoulder length) hair cut off short, it didn't really ever go much further than that. It was just a fantasy. After all, if I cut it... I'll just want to grow it back again anyway... so, why even bother? I was still dealing with daily regret about having cut it as short as it currently was.

But then, I saw this A-Line.

I wanted it. There was absolutely NO way it'd be flattering, or socially acceptable for a guy like me to get one... but, I REALLY wanted it. I couldn't get it out of my mind. I NEEDED this cut.

I'd never felt such a REAL urge to cut it short. This was MORE than a fantasy. This didn't feel like an urge that would eventually "pass". And, it didn't. It wouldn't. It refused to.

That entire next weekend, I couldn't help but to think about the cut. I couldn't believe I was actually considering going short. There'd be no "game" involved, no "coercion", no threats or misunderstandings. It would just be me, deciding to have my hair cut short.

But how could I possibly wind up with an A-Line bob? I didn't think there'd be a single stylist who'd cut an A-Line on a man. Even if there was, how could I ever summon the courage to ask for one?

That Sunday, my girl and I went out to a diner for a bite of lunch... and I made sure to play with my ponytail as much as possible. Aware of my "hair thing", she teased me about it... joked about cutting it off. I knew all I had to do was say "okay", and it'd be a done deal. It was here where, like it always does, the reality began to set in. I realized I loved my long hair. It was so conflicting... I wanted the impossible: to my keep my ponytail AND I to wear an A-Line.

I was able to muster up a request for her to play with my hair for a bit, and maybe we'd see where it goes from there.

Somewhat surprisingly, she accepted. She kind of ran hot and cold when it came to hair-play. She had a lot of fun threatening to cut it... and even performing a snip or two... but, the hair-play part, she didn't always enjoy. So, for her to accept was a pretty big deal. She also told me she had a BIG surprise for me this time, which sent my heart racing.

So, we finished up and went home. She sat on the couch, and I got down on the floor between her legs. She gave me an amazing hair play session... braids, curls, ponytails... she even got out the big round brush and blow-dryer and gave me my first ever "blowout", which I never saw coming. It was amazing. My hair looked so full and lush, bordering on "huge". I'd never seen it like this before and I loved it.

She asked if I had fun. I nodded vigorously. I never expected a blowout. I didn't even know what one was. She told me it was now time for her to have some fun. It was time... for a haircut.

I froze solid as she pulled my hair back into a ponytail. She asked if I was "ready to say goodbye".

I then noticed that the scissors we normally used for just this sort of situation were all the way across the room on the entertainment unit. She was just trying to get me going.

She asked again if I was ready. Knowing that we were just playing a game, I bit my lip, nodded and told her I was ready... I LOVED these threats. They drove me crazy.

Then... I felt a tug... and a crunch. My heart dropped.

Then, another crunch... and another crunch... until she finally finished sawing her way through my "fattened up" ponytail.

I turned around and saw her holding my pony... and a pair of professional haircutting shears.

These fancy new scissors were the "big surprise"... not the blowout.

So there I sat, with a fluffy mop of hair that ended above my shoulders in the front, and went clear up to the middle of my ears in the back.

I ran into the bathroom to survey the damage. This was such a strange day... having gone from wanting my hair cut short so badly in the morning, to fearing that it might be cut at lunch, to actually having it cut off by surprise that afternoon.

In the bathroom mirror, I was able to maintain my composure, only to realize that... I was now really close to having an A-Line. It basically looked like I had a grown out, messy, version of one. I knew I couldn't miss this opportunity.

I went back into the living room, and joked that it kind of looked like I had half a deflated football on my head. My girl laughed and told me to sit back down so she could fix it. She joked around saying that I probably liked that "deflated football look"... and suggested maybe she finish off the job.

I must've blushed because she immediately knew where my mind was. As I sheepishly sat down she started laughing, saying she couldn't believe that I liked it. She then called me "football head", and proceeded to cut me my first ever A-Line bob. I still remember how scary it was to see her slide the scissors into my length at an angle. It looked like it was going to be way too short in the back. By now, I was so lost in this cut that I'd almost forgotten that my near foot-long chopped off ponytail was laying next to my girl on the couch.

She did a really good job. It looked near perfect. Great angle, excellent line. She still thought it was a very ugly haircut, however.

Once she was done with the length, she used my beard trimmer to buzz my nape up to where it met the A-Line, and a little further underneath. This was a hair-play and cutting session I'll always remember, and a cut that I've actually revisited a couple of times just this past year. Even having it done in a salon... which is a story for another day.

I wore that A-Line for a few weeks. Even though it wasn't flattering, and probably made me look ridiculous, I loved the way it felt... and how it made me feel.



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