Tonight I cut Joel’s hair after we went out to dinner. There’s something about trimming hair that’s so nice. I love running my fingers through his hair. I don’t really know how to cut hair so I take a long time. I end up in odd positions where my breasts are very close to his face. Or my legs straddle his. Or my pubic bone rests against his back.
It’s very intimate. In fact, when Harold showed up unexpectedly because they needed baby milk at the other house, it felt kind of awkward. As if he walked in on us fucking. We had that kind of energy going. Hair cuts can be like that.
I like talking to each other and the close contact. I like the feelings of love that stir in me. I like the soft snick of the scissors. I like watching the locks of hair tumble to the ground. I like being centered in my body and focused on a project. It’s like art, but so practical. I enjoy doing things that are useful.
It was good for Joel too. He told me about getting his hair cut in London when he was 18. It was evidently one of the most sensuous experiences he’s ever had. He still remembers her perfume and fantasizes about things going further than a simple haircut.
In a funny way cutting hair is Topping. When I cut hair, I’m in charge. I get to decide what the final style looks like. My subject must stay still for as long as I say. I use whatever tools I deem best. I’m physically altering their appearance to please myself. And I make them clean up. That’s pretty cool!
When you come right down to it, sex is a feeling, not a set of actions. I’m feeling deeply carnal after cutting Joel’s hair. We may just fall asleep in each other arms after this or we may indulge other desires. Either way we end up closer. But I’m hoping for an option with lube.