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Demetri's Bowlcut by Manny

I was sitting at the pool on the roof of the apartment building when I saw him enter the area looking like a real stud -- sculpted torso, muscular legs, dazzling teeth and a crowning mane of thick chestnut-colored hair that hung in a sexy shag cut to his shoulders. He flicked his hair casually as he leaned over to set his things down several chairs away from where I sat. Everything about him screamed out HUNK! So suave, so cool. He was either a guest or new tenant in the building as I was certain I'd never seen him before.

I must have been staring at him, because he gave me a friendly wave.

I waved back and called out, "Perfect day for the pool."

He gave a thumbs up and then put in earbuds. Obviously, he wasn't interested in any sort of chat! Too bad....

After about twenty minutes, he entered the pool. I had a full view of the back of his head -- gorgeous hair flowing down in gentle waves that were marked with highlights of fiery auburn.

As if sensing I was taken with his locks, he pushed his fingers back through his hair in a casual/sexy way and swished his locks about so that they danced in the sunlight. What a show!

My own hair wasn't quite as long, but also attracted a lot of attention. My friends teased me about having the "best adult bowlcut" in the country. It was a darker shade of brown than the hair of the mystery man in the pool and cut with a very long bangs that were almost always over my eyes. Thanks to the thickness and body, my hair naturally cupped under, resulting in the characteristic "bowlcut" look that my friends kidded me about. I rocked the bowl and embraced it. For years, it had been part of my persona. The bowl of chocolate brown hair and I were best of friends.

I had no wish to get my hair all mucked up with harsh chlorinated water, but I was determined to connect somehow with the new guy. I decided to bite the bullet and take a dip. I entered the pool, got a bit used to the chilly water and then plunged under, swimming to the other side and back.

When I emerged from the water near him, the fellow was turned to me and flashed a big smile.

"Colder than you expected, I gather," he said.

"It is!" I exclaimed. "But you looked so refreshed, I needed to get in."

"Well, I was tempted to dive under like you did....but my time here is limited. Didn't want to get my hair wet and have to wash it for just two-minutes of pleasure," he noted.

"Roger that. I like having long hair, but it can be a pain sometime," I said.

"Especially in summer. I'm Nick, by the way," he said. "Just moved into the building last week."

"And I'm Demetrius. Demetri, really," I said. "Welcome. Let me know if there's anything you need to settle in. I'm on the 7th floor. Apartment 711, like the convenience store!"

"I'm on 7 too -- at the end of the hall, as far away from the elevator as possible," he said. "Well, my time is up. Got to get to my job shortly. I'm a bar tender and work nights. That's probably why we haven't crossed paths in the building."

"And I'm teleworking, so my schedule is super erratic," I replied.

He got out of the pool and gathered his things.

"Have fun at work!" I called out.


The next day, just after 5 pm, there was a knock at my door. I opened to find Nick grinning. "Hey, Demetri, I was wondering if you had a corkscrew I could borrow. I must have left mine at the bottom of a box during the move and discarded it by accident."

"Sure," I replied. "Let me get it for you. Come on in."

He stepped into my apartment and looked around a bit. "Nice place here. We share some interests -- I'm totally into mid-century modern, as well. Hey, why don't you come back to my place with me and have a glass of wine? I'd like to ask your opinion on where to place a few items of furniture and paintings. You have a good taste in interior design."

"I'd love that," I said, excited about the invitation.

I found most everything in Nick's apartment was semi-organized.

"So, the couch on that wall or in front of the plate glass window?" Nick asked.

"Wall, definitely, with that painting behind it," I suggested. The choice was a no-brainer.

"Excellent -- now you've earned the glass of wine," Nick said with a twinkle in his eye.

When we walked in the kitchen, I was a little surprised to see the island serving as a makeshift barber station -- a big set of Oster Model 10 clippers, several pair of shears, including thinning shears, an edger, and a folded royal blue cape with a big metal clip on top.

It was large enough to easily accommodate the bottle of wine and two glasses, in addition to the barber instruments.

Nick moved the clippers out of the way. "I really won't need this for tonight," he said under his breath.

"Tonight?" I asked, curious about the matter.

"One of my buddies from work is coming for a haircut. I run a bit of an amateur barber shop here. It's my hobby," he said.

"I'd never have guessed judging on your own hair length," I said.

"I like long hair on myself, but prefer it be cut short on others," Nick replied with a twinkle in his eye. "Of course, I only cut it short if that's what the guy wants. But most men look best with short hair -- very short hair! -- in my opinion."

"So, you took the clippers out for you buddy tonight, hoping he'll agree to a short buzz....knowing it's a long shot?" I asked.

"You and I are very much in tune" Nick exclaimed. "I like that. I think we're going to be friends! Come, let's sit in the living room."

I felt very antsy about his statement that most men look best with short hair. I squirmed a bit on the couch as I fantasized about getting caped up in his kitchen. Nick wielding the clippers and my bowl of hair crashing to the floor.

I wanted to know what was on his mind, so I decided to press the topic a bit.

I flicked my hair back, out of my eyes. Then I bit the bullet and asked straight out, "So, do you think I need a haircut, Nick?"

You know the old saying, "Never ask a barber if you need a haircut. Those bangs certainly need to be pruned back. You have such nice green eyes, it's a shame to hide them under that mass of hair."

I felt a bulge in my groin.

"I like my bowlcut. I know it's a bit odd for a man my age," I said pawing protectively at my dark brown locks. "But, I do agree about the bangs needing to be cut a bit. Maybe you can fit me in sometime?"

Instantly, Nick was on his feet. "The barber shop is open!!" he declared.

"Oh, I didn't mean this evening. You have someone else...." I protested.

He came over to me and boldly started examining and fondling my hair!

"Not for at least half an hour, and Albert is always late. Now, come on into the kitchen and let’s take care of those overgrown bangs," Nick said.

Nick suddenly was all over the place -- super animated -- helping me get up, his arm around me, moving me into the kitchen. I enjoyed the closeness of his touch and the scent of his cologne. I was game for anything that would move us into a closer relationship.

"Are you sure this isn’t too much, squeezing me in like this?" I asked.

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed. "I love to squeeze things in unexpectedly!"

Nick turned on the hot water in the kitchen sink.

"I'm going to wet your bangs down so they can be cut to a tidier length," he said. "This bowl needs a good pruning too -- you'd look even more handsome than you are."

Our bodies were very, very close and I was submissive in letting Nick lean me over the kitchen sink and wet my bangs thoroughly. He seemed to enjoy being in control of the situation.

As I leaned with my head close to the water, his bulge pressed up against my rear. I imagined him having his way with me. At that moment, I knew all of my hair would be his, if he wanted it…

Nick grabbed a hand towel and blotted the excess water from my bangs. Then he led me to his kitchen barbering chair.

"Have a seat right here and let me get you caped up," Nick chirped with eager anticipation.

He caressed the dry hair in back as he fastened the cape around my neck. I felt incredibly happy being in his makeshift barbershop.

Nick took a comb and began combing my bangs straight down. They reach down to my nose — the wet strands were ready to be cut to the length Nick determined.

He hovered in close, and took my face in his hand. Then, he lifted it up, so that we were staring eye-to-eye. He was very close to my face; my lips felt moist and primed, desiring to kiss him.

Instead, he reached for the barber shears; I heard them opening and closing a few times, in a rhythmic way.

"I’m going to trim these bangs short," he said.

He wasn’t kidding when he said short. The shears went way above my eyebrows, right to the middle of my forehead.

Snip, snip, snip, snip!! He scissored my bangs off at mid-forehead.

Several inches of damp hair fell onto the cape. My bangs had never been cut so short!

I glanced down. Large wet chunks on the cape!! Obviously, the cut hair could not be reattached. There was no point in saying anything. He played around with my bangs, smiling at how short they have been cut.

"Now I can see your beautiful green eyes," Nick said, with a sweet, tender caress. "But I want to thin out the bangs a bit. Leave them on the wispy side instead of the heavy drapes that were hanging here."

He whacked away at them with the thinning shears. I sat still and submissive, with my stomach churning mightily with anxiousness.

Finally, Nick relinquished the thinning shears. With both hands, he began fondling the rest of my hair in a slightly possessive manner.

"Oh, you have such beautiful hair!" Nick said as his fingers plowed through my silken locks. When you want it cut, would you please let me know?"

I felt breathless.

"Yes, I will, Nick," I said. "And I will rely on you for the right length to cut my hair."

I fantasized that Nick might give me a quick kiss on the lips.

Instead, he asked, "Would you enjoy having me as your personal barber? There is so much hair to cut"

Then his fingers lingered in the thick long hair in back. My eyes darted to the counter where he’d placed the large set of electric hair clippers. I knew what he was thinking.

He took out a brush and started working it through my hair.

"What was that they said about your hair? The best adult bowlcut in the world?" Nick laughed.

The brushing went on for quite a while. Both of us enjoy the session. Finally, he took off the cape.

"Well, I’d better leave before your next haircut appointment arrives," I said to Nick.

On the way out, I pointed to the clippers. "I have a hunch you’ll be using those tonight."

Nick’s eyes sparkled. He pointed at the floor, "And, I have a hunch the pile of cut hair down there is going to be about a dozen times bigger than it is right now!"

As soon as I was back in my apartment, I rushed into the bathroom to see my bangs.


The little wispy fringe was pushed to the side and almost my whole forehead was uncovered. I instantly missed that thick….what did he call it?….that heavy drape that had hung down over my eyes.

Because the bangs were so short, the rest of my hair looked longer. I ran my fingers through it. So long, so thick. SO IN NEED OF THE CLIPPERS! So in need of Nick's strong, determined hand pushing the stern metal teeth tight up the back.

I tried to distract myself with video games, music, a movie....I even picked up a book -- a real paper thing with actual pages!

But, I couldn't shake the memory of being under Nick's cape. I ran to the bathroom a dozen times to check out the bangs.

Finally, I decided to just do it. To go back to Nick's! To have him put an end to my signature bowlcut.

My heart raced as I walked quickly down the hall, pawing at my soft bowl of hair.

I tapped lightly on the door.

"Al, is that you?" he called out. "Did you leave something here?"

"Nick, it's me. Demetri," I said.

The door swung open.

Nick stood with a massive smile on his face.

"I never imagine you be back so soon. What can I do for you? What can we do with this pretty hair of yours?" he asked, reaching toward it and caressing it. I was a bundle of nerves in the doorway. My bowlcut was on the chopping block.

"Are those clippers still out?" I asked, feeling a massive woody developing.

He pulled me into his apartment and sent the door closing with his foot. His lips came onto mine. Warmly, passionately. He plunged his fingers through my hair as he continued the make-out session.

Then, he looked me in the eyes and asked, "Are you sure about this? Once I start with the clippers, there will be no stopping me."

"Yes, I'm sure. But, let's get to it quickly," I answered, feeling my leg beginning to tremble on account of what I was setting in motion.

The floor in the kitchen was, in fact, covered with a vast amount cut blond hair -- Al's hair.

"I see, the last fellow didn't not escape with 'a light trim'," I noted.

"Nope! I finally prevailed. And, there will be no ‘light trim’ for you either," Nick said as he guided me to sit on the kitchen chair.

He played with my hair and praised the sheen and volume. I think he was trying to goad me into possibly weaseling out.

"Once the cape is on, that will be it. You know the expression, 'speak now, or forever hold...'," Nick warned.

"I want the clippers," I said, "but please leave me with a little hair on top."

"Perhaps," Nick said as he snapped on the machine.

I listened to the menacing roar. My hair could never withstand an assault by that large set of Osters.

With a comb, he held the thick mane down while bringing the clippers up the sideburn and slicing through the bowlcut, creating a severely short taper.

The first mass of cut hair fell to the cape. My groin heaved at the site!

"That was just the first swipe," he teased. "There is SO MUCH MORE yet to fall."

With the second swipe, the clippers went a lot higher up the side of the head and tighter to the scalp, but not as much hair fell.

"How are you doing there, Buddy?" Nick asked, fondling my hair in a loving, concerned way. "I don't want you fainting when the next large chunk of your pretty hair comes off."

"I'm okay. Are you having fun?" I asked, looking up at the handsome amateur barber.

"I sure chopped your bangs off short, earlier today," he said gleefully as he fingered the wispy remnants of the heavy drapes that had once covered my eyes. "That gave you a taste for short hair. Snipping the bangs short was like an appetizer. And, now, here I am with clippers in hand, wondering if I should plow them down the top of your head. Would you like to see the longest, most lush part of your mane at my feet? You'd look so sweet with a baldy cut, I think."

Nick held the screaming machine right in front of my eyes.

"When you asked for 'a little left on top' what did you have in mind? An eighth of an inch?" he asked.

"I want you to cut my hair as short as you like," I said, mustering up the courage to give him carte blanche.

"You are such an angel," he said, lifting the bangs with a comb and bringing the clippers up past my eyes.

I instinctively closed my eyes.

"Timber," he called out as he thrust the cutting teeth into my locks. I swooned slightly as the clippers were driven down the top of my head.

Mounds and mounds and mounds of my shimmering brown hair fell in every direction.

"Oh, look at you!" Nick exclaimed, examining his work.

When I opened my eyes, the damage was apparent everywhere. Long chunks of my hair were drooped about the cape. An amazing amount had fallen with that first big swipe down the top of my head.

"How am I looking, Nick?" I asked.

"Like a different person all together," Nick said he fondled the stubble on top. "This is a good length for you. I am so glad you're letting me take it all off. I’m having a wonderful time being your personal barber."

"Will you kiss me, Nick?" I asked.

He snapped the machine off and set it down. He took my face with his hands and began kissing me. All my sacrifice was worth his love and attention. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I began imagining how I might look without my luxuriant bowl of hair. I grasped a wad that was laying on the cape. So soft, so shiny, so lifeless!

Nick took the clippers back in hand and snapped them on. "A #2 on top and a #0000 on the sides! No more drapes over your eyes, no more bowl of hair bouncing around! Just a very sparse, military-length crop for my new boyfriend," Nick purred as he tossed his own shoulder-length locks about.

I understood there could only be one longhair in the relationship, and his chestnut-colored locks with fiery auburn highlights were incomparable.

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