These events happened in the ’90s in Barabanki, before the advent of cellular phones and the spreading of the Internet.
Our tenant passed away due to malaria. His bride, Susheela, a few months younger than me, pleaded with my stepmother to let her keep the portion. Neither her in-laws nor her parents were offering her abode. She was asked to get ‘mundan,’ i.e., head shave to live in our house.
I remember being attracted to her big eyes and shiny hair at first. When her husband was alive, ‘Bhabi’ was covered from head to toe in ornaments and draped in sarees. But after his demise, she appeared in white sarees with her hair open. Naturally, it was a pleasure to see her head shave.
Susheela came out after taking a bath in the common bathroom outside. Her waist-long hair was wet and tied in a simple knot. As instructed, I held her hand and dragged her into the courtyard. She was pleading with me to leave her alone, but I didn’t let go.
The barber was already there with his tools. I was excited to see the whole process. The barber opened Susheela’s knot and combed her long hair. When she fidgeted, he asked me to hold her tight, or there might be scars on her head due to the cuts.
On hearing this, she immediately stopped resisting and surrendered quietly. I was enjoying her soft body to the fullest. The barber tied a string to the end of Susheela’s loose hair, which was hanging past her waist. He then snapped a new blade in half and inserted it into a straight razor.
My stepmother came to check and shouted at the barber, “What are you waiting for? Finish her haircut quickly, then you have to do mine,” she reminded him. The barber started by holding Susheela’s head and shaving her neck. Then he kept the razor on her forehead and scraped backward.
Susheela lifted her chin, fearing any nicks and cuts. It was the first time I saw her face clearly. An oval face, sharp nose and a chiseled jawline with spotless beige complexion completed the pretty picture.
I was turned on by her beautiful face and her fit figure of 34-26-34 with a C cup bust. I estimated her height around five and a half feet. Meanwhile, the barber did quick work of her head. Silky, straight hair was sliding down her white saree.
My cock was already standing in attention when I noticed her hand had disappeared under the saree (to touch her clit, probably). While one hand was inside, the other caught the short pieces in her lap. My cock was so hard. It was ready to cum at the slightest provocation.
Stepmom checked the old barber’s work and asked him to shave Susheela’s head once again. This time he applied shaving foam and shaved bhabi’s head smoothly. She had her left hand inside the saree the entire time. Then he lifted her elbows one by one and scraped her underarms.
I excused myself and ejaculated in the outside toilet. When I came back, bhabi had gone to take a quick shower, and it was my stepmother’s turn. She tied her hair into a bun, and no one knew how long her hair was. Then she opened the bun and let her hair fall to her shoulders.
It was about two feet long, with a few strands of grey hair. I was mildly turned on, though she was in her late 40s. The barber tied it just below the boobs and snipped it with his scissors. He then used manual clippers to clean up her neck and sides. Hair fell on stepmom’s saree.
I was rubbing my dick once in a while when she said that the guests would arrive soon. Hearing this, the barber put the other half of the blade in the razor and shaved the stepmom’s cheeks and neck.
She lifted her arms, and he shaved her underarms with some water. She paid him and asked him to come back in about 40 days.
On the 40th day, the old barber came to reshave bhabi. This time stepmom went first and asked to shave her underarms. The old barber put foam on her armpits and started shaving. Bhabi caught me rubbing my cock and snickered at me. I asked her why she refused to come when she liked the head shave.
“So that you can hold my hand,” she said, winking at me. For the first time, I noticed that she had heart-shaped lips that didn’t need lipstick to look good. Her face was oval, and the growth on her head was like a dark brush. Overall she looked really cute, and I had a crush on her.
Coming back to the question, I told bhabi that I was turned on by any activity related to hair, like hair cutting, head shaving, etc. “Then you’ll like this,” said Susheela and showed me her eyebrows. They had been cut a while ago and grew back. “I’m going to get them shaved off today,” she said.
My cock was already hard and became stiffer on listening to her. Stepmom called her out into the courtyard, and I held her hand to take her outside. This time I noticed how smooth and hairless her arms were.
“Why do you want to shave your head again? I asked her. “To get thicker hair,” she said, adding, “you can call me Shalu.”
The barber held her pretty face and shaved her eyebrows. Shalu batted her long eyelashes to prevent shaved hair from getting into her eyes. The barber then applied shaving cream on her head and shaved it. I didn’t wait till the whole job was over and went to cum in-between.
Since my stepmother had gone for a bath, the barber asked me to check bhabi’s head. I ran my fingers on her crown and okayed the barber.
Fast forward two years, and we were both friends. I completed my PG from a co-education college while Shalu did BA -B.ed. from the govt girl’s college. But the issue was that my English wasn’t good. So Shalu agreed to tutor me while teaching in a nearby convent.
In these two years, Shalu’s hair had grown quite a bit. It was now till her mid-back (when she didn’t have it in a bun). Her bony structure now had a little fat, though her figure remained the same.
One day stepmom called the barber for my young niece’s (my step-brother’s daughter) haircut. “Baby ka bob cut” (i.e., baby needs a bob haircut), she told him. He took it as ‘Bhabi,’ i.e., Shalu and made her sit in the courtyard. I was also not aware as Shalu was holding 5 year’s old ‘baby.’
In front of my very eyes, the barber sprayed Shalu’s hair and cut it at shoulder level. Immediately, I realized the mistake and explained it to him. He trimmed the ends as best as possible to give Shalu a long bob.
The barber hurriedly started baby’s bob-cut while Shalu tied her shoulder-length hair into a bun. Standing close, I was turned on by Shalu’s body odor, and my dick was making a tent in the pants. Looking at my plight, she laughed at me, thereby breaking the ice between us.
From that day, we became very close, like a couple. I was quite good looking at 23. Tall (5’10”), clean-shaven and slim. My name is Omprakash, which back then was a common name.
Shalu told me to treat her like my girlfriend till I found a suitable girl for marriage. I told her that I was sexually inexperienced, being a virgin. She said it was not a problem as she was not a virgin and could have a physical relationship with her. I was overjoyed and decided to start my sex life.
I wore a condom as she suggested and lay in bed waiting for Shalu. She came into my room and locked the door. Shalu had grown into a beautiful woman in the time I’d known her. Without wasting time, she stripped and started patting her twat with long, slender fingers.
I was turned on by her body heat alone when she removed her bra and asked me to press her boobs. Simply touching her round boobs with tiny tits made me ready to cum. I begged her to start fucking, or I’d ejaculate. She asked me to control my feelings and straddled me.
At first, she started rocking slowly, then built a steady pace. She opened her hair and kissed my chest. Feeling her silky hair on my body and her soft ass cheeks in my hands made me cum heavily. She removed her knees from beside my torso and started sucking my dick.
It was the most heavenly experience for me, and I felt getting hard again. I dug my fingers into her thick hair and told her to lie down so that I could fuck her in a missionary position. She did as l asked, but I couldn’t stroke her cunt properly.
Bhabi said it’s only a starting problem and slid out to do the woman-on-top position. The view of hair framing her face and those pretty tits bouncing on top of me was enough to make me cum again. Both times I lasted less than a minute.
Shalu: Thanks, you did well.
OP: I’ll do better next time.
Then she did the most unexpected thing, she kissed me on the lips and put her tongue into my mouth. I was stunned by her boldness and returned the action in kind, only this time a bit longer.
OP: I love you, Shalu.
Shalu: I love you too Prakash.
By the time Shalu had completed her M.Ed., I was 25, and she was two years younger than me. Shalu had started teaching in my old college. Meanwhile, I’d realized that my stepmom wasn’t interested in getting me married. All she wanted was to collect half of my monthly salary.
To settle down, I befriended a Bengali girl from my college. I was quite good looking (5’10” with a slim body). She was a year younger than Shalu and did everything I wanted physically.
We even went to Goa as a couple and enjoyed it there. She graduated in the summer of that year and went back to Calcutta. Before going, she’d promised to talk to her father and fix our marriage.
I waited for six months before telling Shalu. We put 2 and 2 together and figured that she was having a good time at my expense. In those days, there were no social media to contact her. I didn’t know her address in Calcutta.
Even if I found her, there was the problem of Caste. We were from different communities, and marriage didn’t happen till there was a strong reason (like one of us had a government job).
Depression came naturally with a habit of drinking. Shalu allowed me to keep beer in her fridge. Every evening we met on the terrace after dinner, and she would bring my bottle of Thunderbolt 750 ml beer. Slowly my admiration for her intelligence turned into love. We planned to elope from U.P.
Shalu got an offer from New Delhi to do a PhD. It set things in motion. There was no hope of getting any property or share from my stepbrother or stepmother.
We took as much gold as possible and decided to go to Delhi on a Sunday. That would give us half a day’s lead before my stepmom realized that we were missing.
One night Shalu gave me a glass of milk instead of a beer bottle. She also looked different. She was wearing a red silk saree instead of white. Before coming home, she had gone to a beauty parlor in our colony.
They had shaped her eyebrows and set her hair. She looked stunning, with a super figure (34-26-34 with a C cup) and a good height of 5’6”. Her hair had grown a few inches past the shoulders, which she kept tied in a simple ponytail.
That was our first night since we didn’t get a chance to get married formally. We had the foresight to do registered marriage on the last working day of Shalu’s college. She wore red lingerie that night instead of her regular skin-colored underwear.
She looked sexy with sharp features and smooth golden skin. Only one common friend knew about us. Luckily he was not a local.
Coming back to the topic of our marriage, Shalu was glowing from top to bottom. Her breasts stood up like ripe mangoes. 50np-sized pink areola covered her bead-like nipples. She had epilated her legs that day (epilation was all the rage those days).
I was thinking about how to hold my cum as It was my first time without a condom. As expected, I ejaculated within two minutes and slept soundly. Early in the morning, I lasted a bit longer when Shalu mounted me and rode for (what seemed to be) an eternity before climaxing.
It was the day before that I got the surprise of my life. Shalu used to give physics tuition to 10th class students. But that day, a couple of roadside Romeos followed her asking her to tutor them. She walked home swiftly, knowing their ulterior motives.
As a single woman, she was used to lewd behavior. But the problem worsened day by day. They had come to the main gate, and the stepmother had seen everything. She asked me to call the old barber.
At first, I thought it was best to run away with Shalu (or tell my stepmother that Susheela and I were married). I could see what was coming. Stepmother would ask the barber to do Shalu’s haircut or, worse still, ask him to do Shalu’s head shave.
But Shalu insisted on sticking to our initial plan of eloping. (After all, we were both majors, and we had married of our own free will.) With a lump in my throat, I called the old guy before he opened his barbershop.
At first, the stepmother scolded the barber, saying he should’ve come earlier to do Shalu’s haircut. He offered to shave her head, but the stepmother told him to do a short haircut.
“She is a teacher now,” stepmother reasoned. I was relieved to hear that they were not going to shave Shalu. Still, with a heavy chest, I informed Shalu.
Shalu: Don’t worry, Babu, it’s only hair.
Prakash: How long does it take to grow back?
Shalu: By next year, it’ll be the same as now.
Prakash: Thank goodness!
The barber started combing Shalu’s curtain-like hair. When it was not up in a ponytail, her hair reached mid-back. I was ok to cut a few inches, but we both were taken off guard by the old guy. First, he sprayed water on Shalu’s head and tied her hair in a ponytail using a rubber band.
Then he placed his steel scissors above the rubber band and made the first pass. “Khach”, we heard but couldn’t find out how much length was removed. Slowly the barber used his scissors to sever the ponytail from Shalu’s nape.
She felt the spot and concluded that a rubber band was no longer needed to tie her hair. The old guy shaped Shalu’s back and combed her front hair to cut it off at the tip of her nose.
Stepmother came to inspect and told the barber to reduce the length around the ears. He promptly followed her instructions and shaved the fuzz on Shalu’s neck and cheeks. When he was done, Shalu was left with a short bob.
She had a perfect figure thanks to sleeping on the floor and eating raw food. The short bob made her look younger than she was. I was instantly turned on by running my fingers through her thick locks after she took a head bath.
Shalu combed her hair backward and used a plastic headband to keep it tidy. Stepmother also comprised because of Shalu’s teaching job.
At last, the time came to put our plan into action. The Rajdoot motorcycle didn’t have enough petrol, so we didn’t bother taking it. Shalu packed our best clothes and certificates in a sports bag and woke me up at 10 pm.
We walked to the nearest traffic signal and took a cycle rickshaw to the railway station. The counter in Barabanki was closed, so we took the first train and reached Kanpur.
From there, we took the night train to New Delhi. We shared a RAC berth and arrived in Delhi at 8 am.
It has been 20 years since that day. We didn’t go back to U.P.
Comments