New Year – No Hair – Part Five by Another Shaver

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Sorry this has taken so long to get written. I hope you enjoy it

Brunch with Ted and Freddie was awesome, and we lingered chatting until well after noon. It was great to get to know another couple in L.A. who shared our interests, not just in shaving and tattoos, but in travel, films, and a bunch of other things. But it was also great to actually talk about our new-found fetish for baldness. The conversation drifted back and forth, but it seemed to always end up back at shaving, whether it was because a hot bald guy walked by, or we talked about a head shaving scene in a film, or some other totally random thing that brought one of us back to it.

Eventually I said, "I hope you don’t think we are just totally obsessed with baldness."

"Yeah, I do think you are," Freddie said with a huge grin. "There’s nothing wrong with that, we both are also. And to top it off, you’re newbies, so everything is going to go back to shaving. It was probably a year before Ted and I stopped talking about shaving constantly. But we both love meeting a new shaver and having all of those conversations again."

"So, you don’t mind then?" I asked.

"Not at all," Ted replied. "I love everything around shaving, including talking about it. But seriously, you need to come down to the fetish night tonight. It is all about haircuts, all evening. Well, and sex. It is a fetish night after all, and everyone in the place is going to be totally turned on. You don’t have to join in with… all… of the activities, unless you want to that is. However, to watch the haircutting, you do have to get your hair cut as well. Not that there is much for any of us to cut." He rand his hand over his head with a grin.

"No idea how much we might join in on, but I’m down for it, if Steve is?" Jake looked at me.

"Absolutely." I said. I had to shift in my seat because I was getting hard at the thought, although I don’t know which turned me on more, the thought of watching all of the shaving, or the fact that I was going to be able to share something so wild with Jake.

Freddie said, "If that’s the case, I’ll send a text to the organizers. It’s invitation only, we don’t want random weirdos wandering in. Just the weirdos we know." He grinned.

"That would be awesome, thank you." Jake looked really excited. "What time?"

"Generally, there is like an hour of getting to know each other at about 9 or so, until the haircutting starts to kick off. We typically start cutting at about 10, and we go until everyone who wants a cut has gotten one. Ted and I get there about 7:30 though to help set up. You’re welcome to join us then if you’d like. We could always use a few extra hands."

"Speaking of which," Ted added, "We need to get going, we need to run to the store and get stuff before tonight."

"We’ll be there. Is there a dress code?" I felt stupid the moment the words came out of my mouth, it was a fetish night, of course there wouldn’t be a rule about ‘no sneakers or jeans.’

"More of an undress code," Ted grinned. "Wear as little as you are comfortable wearing, but the littler, the better. Freddie and I normally wear boxers in the social room, but we take everything off inside the barber shop. Some people wear bondage gear if that mixes into their fetish. Other people wear barber smocks and such. And there are some nudists who are completely naked even in the social room. It is really up to you and what you’re comfortable with."

"I’m down for that. I think it would be cool to be naked everywhere to be honest." Jake surprised me by saying. A man who had never taken his shirt off at the beach in all of the years we’d been together, only worn a tank in public for the first time today, was OK with being totally nude in a club. It was so awesome, being bald was making him really love his body for the first time since we met.

We said our goodbyes and headed home.

"I can’t believe it, we’re going to a fetish club," Jake said as we started to walk home, "And, I can’t believe that I’m this excited about going."

I put my arm around him, "I’m so happy that you’re happy. I have to say, this change in you is sexy."

"How sexy?"

"I’ll show you the second we get home."

"Ok, it’s a race then," and he tore off down the street, me close on his heels.

Later that afternoon, as we were laying in bed, Jake turned to me and said, "I’m going to do it."

"Do what?"

"Get that tattoo."

And the moment he said that my dick immediately sprang back to attention. I had wanted him to get one so badly, and even more once he shaved his head. It was the one thing I ever wanted to change about him, I loved tattoos, and always was a tiny bit sad that my partner was totally bare.

He saw my reaction. "I thought you’d like that," and reached his hand out to stroke my dick. I laid there for a couple of minutes enjoying his hand job.

"What made you decide?"

"Well, if a top salesman who has to deal with customers all the time can have a sleeve, I think it’s high time for me to get one too."

"A tattoo is going to look so awesome on you."

"I didn’t say a tattoo, I said a sleeve." The moment he said those words, I came. "I will take that to indicate you approve?"

"Oh my God, yes. Yes, I approve. I never imagined that you’d do that. I was just hoping for a little one, a sleeve is beyond my wildest dreams. What made you decide to do that? Not that I am complaining. At all."

"Fear mostly. Not fear of a tattoo. To be honest, I’ve always wanted one, even though I never admitted it to anyone, not really even to myself. I absolutely love tattoos, especially yours, and you know I love them. But it’s always been on other people.

"It is fear of what people think will think about me." Jake took a deep breath, and I knew he was about to open up about something. Jake had always been guarded about some things from his past, and even after more than six years together, there were things we just didn’t talk about. I had never pushed, because most people, but especially gay people, generally have experiences they don’t want to discuss with anyone, even the people closest to them. I loved him despite the fact that there were parts of him that had always been closed off.

"You know I grew up in a conservative community, you’ve been there, and you know what it’s like. Even though my parents never had an issue with me being gay and loved me and were proud of me for being myself, outside of my house, I really couldn’t be the guy I wanted to be. I wanted so badly to be completely out, and flamboyantly so. But I couldn’t. Not in rural Georgia. I could be sort of out as long as I didn’t really look the part, as long as I didn’t make other people uncomfortable. So, I cultivated the choir boy look. Even though I didn’t like it that much. I kept my hair short, but not too short. I wore khakis and button downs. I looked like I stepped out of the country club, even at fifteen."

"I know, your mom has shown me the pictures. You looked so mature, even as a teen. But I still thought it was adorable."

"But it wasn’t me. It never was me," Jake had tears in his eyes. "It was who I had to be, not who I wanted to be. I could be gay at home, but the minute I stepped outside of the house, I had to put on the mask and appear to be just like everyone else. As long as I did that, there were no issues, no bullying or harassment. But it wasn’t who I dreamed of being. Ever."

"Who did you want to be?"

"Someone like you, even though at the time, I didn’t know anyone like you, but I still dreamed of it. You grew up in New York. You could be completely out to everyone. You could have weird hair, tattoos, piercings, rainbow shirts. You could make out with a guy at prom. You could walk down the street holding your boyfriend’s hand. You could go to Pride. I couldn’t.

"In high school, there was this guy, his name was Mike, that I had the worst crush on. We were friends, not super close, but good enough friends that we hung out a lot. I don’t know if he was gay, or bi, or straight. He never had a girlfriend, and sometimes, he’d look at me in a way that showed he had some sort of interest in me, but it never went anywhere to speak of.

"He had blond hair that hung halfway down his back, and I wanted to grow my hair out so badly to be that cool. Or as cool as I thought he was. But I couldn’t. I’d tell myself I wasn’t going to go get a haircut, but come the fourth Saturday of the month, I’d be back in the barber’s chair, getting my usual taper cut.

"And then one day, in our junior year, he showed up to school bald. I mean totally bald, shaved with a razor. He was amazing looking with long hair, but bald, he was the most beautiful guy I’d ever seen, until I met you that is. It was the first time I ever realized that a shaved head was the single hottest look a guy could have." Jake kissed my cheek.

"I asked Mike why he shaved his head, and he said he ‘just got tired of having hair.’ I asked him if he was going to keep it, and he asked me if I thought he should, and I blurted out yes, absolutely. He laughed and said, ‘well, if you think it looks good, then I’ll keep it shaved.’ I was thrilled to hear it. He then asked me if I wanted to touch it. He told me everyone had been rubbing it all day.

"So, I ran my hand over his head, and I completely popped a woody at the feel of it. To be honest, I think he did as well, but that was a line we wouldn’t, and couldn’t cross. ‘He said, it feels amazing, doesn’t it? I love people rubbing my head, and I told him I’d give him a head rub anytime he wanted. And then the next day, he showed up, freshly shaved, and the next, and the next. I asked him if he was actually going to stay bald, and he replied, ‘you told me I should, so I am. I’m not planning on growing it out any time soon, and maybe not ever. I really like it. I’m probably not ever going to grow it back.’ And then he asked me if I wanted to rub it, ‘for luck’ he said. I did, and it became a ritual every morning, we’d say hi, and I’d give him a little head rub. It was the highlight of my day.

"That was when I decided that I wanted to shave my head. I even went to the barber intending to. I screwed up my courage, and walked in, and I even asked the barber to shave me bald. And the barber wouldn’t. He told me, ‘Look kid, I know you’re gay, and I don’t have an issue with it, but you might not want to do that. It’ll make you stand out and be a target. I don’t want anything to happen to you, you’re a good kid.’ So, I got the same old haircut I always had. He cut it a bit tighter, and even shaved my neck for me, but it was still the same cut.

"And, at that moment, I buried my desires. Walled them off. Tried to ignore them. Mike stayed totally bald through high school, and I lived vicariously through him. I saw some of what the barber warned me about. Everyone thought Mike was cool when he shaved his head the first time, but after a few weeks of him being bald, people began to distance themselves from him. I never did, and we stayed friends and still hung out, but lots of other people started avoiding him. I think by the time we graduated, there were only a couple of people other than me that were still close to him.

"He moved away immediately after high school and cut ties with all of us. I never saw him again. The rumor was he got into a huge fight with his parents, and that was that, but I never knew what happened to him. I haven’t really thought about him in years, I hope he found happiness.

"I moved away to go to college, and I chose Chicago because I thought I could be who I wanted to be there, with no one judging me. I planned to shave my head, get a tattoo, and be who I wanted to be. But I couldn’t. I could be out, and I was for the first time, but I still couldn’t ditch the choir boy look. Years of living with a mask on left me unable to take it off. I was too afraid of what people would think. And I was studying engineering. Everyone there was so geeky, and it just didn’t happen. I wanted desperately to change my image, but I couldn’t get past the fear. So, I sort of gave up. I decided that it was enough to be out, to be openly dating guys. The rest just got shoved down.

"And then I met you. You were every single thing I wanted to be, other than bald that is. But you had that amazing skin fade, with half your head shaved almost to the skin, and the rest buzzed really short. You had all these tattoos, and your nails were painted, and you had that ring in your eyebrow and all the ones in your ears. You were everything I never had the courage to be." Jake was full-on crying. "Your willingness to be yourself is why I fell in love with you. I’m just glad you fell in love with me as well."

I wrapped my arms around Jake and held him.

"So, what changed," I asked when the storm of crying had stopped.

"When we were watching that movie, and I could feel you getting hard looking at Matt Damon and his shaved head, I thought, maybe you’d be ok with me cutting my hair off. And you were. You didn’t discourage me, you checked that I actually wanted to do it, but you never made me feel weird about it. You treated it like it was a normal thing to do, that it wasn’t wrong to shave off a full head of hair. And then you shaved me bald, and for the first time, when I looked in the mirror, I looked like I’d always wanted to look. And I knew I couldn’t go back. I knew I had to keep my head shaved, forever, to be the person that I wanted to be. And you loved how I looked bald, which made it even better.

"And then you shaved your head with me, and I couldn’t believe it. My partner got the haircut I’d always hoped he’d get. I’d always wanted a partner with a completely shaved head."

"You could have just asked me to shave my head, I’d have done it for you. It isn’t like I ever liked my hair. I’d have been more than willing to shave my head and stay bald for you."

"That isn’t the point. I wanted to be bald. ME. If you’d shaved your head, that would have been awesome, but if you’d done it first, I’d have just kept on living vicariously through you. I’d have shaved your head every day and buried the desire to shave my own. I needed this, for me. I’ve always wanted to have a shaved head, I’ve always wanted to wear tank tops. I’ve always wanted to have a full sleeve tattoo. But I’ve been afraid. Afraid of what people would think. Afraid of their judgement.

"But I shaved my head, and the world didn’t stop. I got compliments. Tons of them. People told me to stay bald because it looked awesome on me. I wore a tank top to a nice restaurant, and no one even looked twice. There was no scolding, no disapproving glances. No one cared. And I was sitting at a table with three heavily tattooed men, and no one even looked at them, at least not negatively. And that was it. I knew I needed to stop being scared to be me.

"I decided that I need to be the person I’ve always wanted to be. I want to be a man with a completely shaved head. I want to be a man who wears cool clothes, who takes off his shirt every chance he gets. I want to be a man with a bunch of tattoos. I want to be… me."

"That’s all I’ve ever wanted you to be. I love you." And in that moment, I loved Jake more than I ever had thought possible. I knew there was something more I needed to say. Jake finally opening up to me about everything made me certain of what I was about to do.

"Will you marry me? I know this isn’t the big romantic setup that I wanted to do, but somehow, this is the perfect moment. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. The REAL you, the bald, tattooed, shirtless, you. The you that you have always been inside. I want you to know that it is safe to take the mask off, and that I will always be there for you."

Jake looked me in the eyes and said, "Yes, yes, I want to marry you. I love you."

And we wrapped our arms around each other, and just held each other, confident that, for the first time, everything was how it should be.

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