It's time. I'm ready. by ConvincedBoyfriend

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The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a warm, dim glow. Mark and I were on the couch, our bodies comfortably intertwined after a shared bottle of wine. The conversation flowed, but in my mind, there was only one thing I wanted to say. I knew what it meant to Mark, how much it mattered to him. And I realized that I was ready.

Leaning in, my fingers threaded through his hair, I looked him in the eyes.

"Mark," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I've been thinking about it for ages and ... want to try it. I'm ready."

His reaction was everything I had hoped for. The surprise, the delight, the relief - it was all there, shining bright in his eyes.

I left him on the couch, grinning, as I rushed to the bedroom, my hands trembling. As I brought out the clippers, the exhilarating nervousness almost got the better of me. This was something new, something I hadn't done before, but I wanted to do it - for Mark, for us.

The hum of the clippers filled the room as I tried them out, feeling their vibration in my hands. Mark walked towards me and sat down on a chair. I think he was still a little unsure whether I had finally come around to the idea - this unusual interest of his that he had been increasingly bringing up over the last few months. The same idea that, ever since he had first brought it up, had grown and grown in my mind too.

My fingers threaded through his hair one last time before I moved the clippers to the base of his neck. The buzzing sound became louder as I pressed it to his skin. I slowly pushed it up, moving carefully, reverently. His dark locks began to fall onto the floor, one by one.

I felt strangely powerful. Seeing Mark surrender to the sensation, his eyes closed, his hand holding mine - it was a moment of pure connection. This mutual trust was radiating between us. With each stroke, as I stripped all his hair off, I felt a completely new sense of passion for this man I had loved for five years. As the last lock of hair fell, it felt transformative, the act of giving and taking, of trust and commitment.

Once I had finished with Mark, he stood and faced me. He kissed me passionately and I couldn't keep my hands off his bristly shaved scalp. But then he pulled away and I could see even more excitement in his eyes. It was my turn.

My legs quivered as I sat down. The chair felt cool against my skin. Mark turned on the clippers, their buzzing sound sending a shiver down my spine. They felt even louder and more powerful in his hands.

As he started to shave my head, his touch was firm yet gentle. The sensation was unusual but exciting. I closed my eyes as seemingly endless clumps of hair fell on my shoulders and lap. It felt liberating, symbolic, just right.

The moment Mark finished and dropped the clippers, my heart pounded in my chest. His hands reached out to touch my newly shaven head before pulling me into a searing kiss. It was like a spark had been ignited between us. The feel of our bare scalps against each other added a whole new level of intimacy.

The night that followed was one of passion, desire, and deep connection. As we explored each other's bodies, every touch, every shared breath was heightened by our mutual vulnerability. I felt closer to Mark than ever before, our love expressing itself in the most passionate way possible.

Morning greeted us with soft sunlight filtering through the curtains. I woke up to Mark's touch, his fingers gently caressing my scalp. The joy in his eyes, the love radiating from him - it was overwhelming, a testament to our shared experience.

But from the smile on his face, I got the distinct feeling that there was more to come. What could he have in mind?

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