He had rehearsed what he would say many times over.

He had summoned up courage.

He wanted to share his visions of past experiences.

Whether she, Jenny, would enter discussion, he couldn’t be sure.

But he felt confident she would. She had cut his hair many times now.

In her little village salon. Usually first appointment of the day. When it was quiet.

She tended to work on her own each morning. Another stylist came in for afternoons.

It would be quiet.

As he dressed in his underwear, his comfort was all-embracing.

He slipped into his panties, fastened the suspender belt and rolled up the stockings.

Over the painted toenails. The nail polish glinted. He liked the shimmering shade of red.

His bra matched the panties, with lovely lace surrounds. Crystal blue satin. Slinky.

He stood back and looked in the mirror, and couldn’t resist putting on the shoes.

As he sat on the bed, the stockings pulled this way and that.

High heels. To die for. Towering stilettos. Crazy really, but sexy. Oh, so sexy!

Size nines. Difficult to find. But worth every penny he had spent on them.

Strappy. The black straps were slim, and wound around his ankle, tiny buckle-fastened.

He couldn’t go out in them — he couldn’t drive the car in them…. So, off they came.

He looked at the makeup tray, neatly laid out on his wife’s dressing table.

She was away for several days. It was safe. It hadn’t always been so. She knew.

She knew that he would be dressing while she was away. But she wanted none of it.

He was not tempted b the cosmetics. Not now. He was going out. To the salon.

8.30am. He was waiting outside the salon. Where was Jenny? She was a little late.

He watched her arrive from behind the driver’s wheel of his car.

Could he go through with it? Of course, he could. Plan B was just to have the usual cut.

Plan A was to say how much he’d appreciated the cut she’d done last time….

When he was having his 60th birthday.

She had left it a little longer than usual — but he liked it that way.

She greeted him with her usual smile, her brunette hair tumbling past her chin in waves.

“How are you today? Lovely sunshine so early…” she laughed. “Come in.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?!” he replied.

She fussed with the gown that encased him as he sat before her mirror.

Underneath, his bra and panties felt good. His tits didn’t show because of the sweater.

The sweater covered the blouse.

He wished now he had dared to put on some pale lipstick that morning before leaving home.

He had thought about it again as he waited for her, sitting in his car.

But he hadn’t…..

“How do you want the cut this time?” she asked. “A little more off as it’s summer?”

“Well not really….” he hesitated.

“You did it really well last time and it was just right because I had a party that weekend…… A “big” birthday… with a “BIG ZERO” and I felt it looked just right.”

“But that was six weeks ago!” she laughed. “Must have some more off now!”

“Well, maybe….. You see I thought then how my hair has changed over the years…. Since I was younger. It’s been awfully conventional for the last twenty years! It wasn’t always like that….”

He paused…… Should he go on? Did she care??? She ran her fingers through his hair.

“In what sense, how has it changed?” she asked, with her head tilted as she looked at him in the mirror. “How has it been… and did you like it better before?” Genuinely interested, she was.

He was encouraged. “You see, I’m sure people’s hair reflects their personalities and, maybe, they do change over time.” he ventured, knowing where he had planned to go with the conversation. “I’m very different now than when I was, say, twenty and at University.”

“Of course we all are…..” she agreed, “…so what were you like in your twenties?”

Andy was ready to plunge……. Jenny began to comb his hair, this way and that, as if in thought as to how she would style his hair……. But she didn’t start the cutting….. “You usually have a wash and cut, don’t you?” she asked, and was right. Andy enjoyed having his hair washed. “Come on over to the shampoo basins.”

He was about to say what he was wanting to say, when Jenny said, “I bet you had long hair when you were twenty. Didn’t you tell me one time that you’d had a ponytail?! Was it then? When you were twenty? I can just imagine….!” she said, teasingly.

“Well of course, we were at Uni and nobody spent money on having their hair cut. I didn’t get it cut for three years!” Andy laughed. This was almost what he’d planned to tell her first…… “Lodgings at Uni were great. We had a group of seven of us — three guys and four girls. Perfect!”

“How perfect?” Jenny asked, puzzled by the inequality of numbers.

“Well, one of the guys was gay, so that meant there was me and another guy with four girls!” Andy thought back to the sleeping arrangements and how relationships were built and changed over time there. “Perfect!”.

Jenny laughed again, fully understanding the meaning of what Andy had said.

“And your ponytail? Was that perfect?”

“Well, it wasn’t at the outset…. It was all a mess really, just scragged back to keep it all out of the way. I didn’t pay it much attention - or look after it at all really……. At least, not in the first year. But that all changed around the time of the Students Union Winter Ball that year.”

Andy was beginning to warm to his story and Jenny kept herself busy with the shampooing. Andy laid back in the near horizontal chair that sloped up to the basin where his head was rested.

The water coursed over his head. Her hands massaged the shampoo in gently.

“How did the Ball change your hair? I don’t get it…” asked Jenny, not understanding at all.

Andy felt his bra and panties close to his skin as he sat, or almost laid, in the shampooing chair. At the age of sixty, he really should have grown out of such a fetish…..

“That year, it was a Winter’s Turnabout Party” he smiled as his mind flooded with memories. “You know, one of those where the guys all go as girls and the girls go as guys….?”

“Indeed I do,” said Jenny. “I’ve been to several myself and they’re usually great fun — so long as people enter into the spirit of the occasion!”

“You’re right there, but I really didn’t know how much I’d be entered into the spirit…..! It kind-of ran away with itself once one of the girls in our house, Sarah was her name, that’s right, Sarah. She teased me about my hair and said I had no right to go as a girl with a mop like mine. She insisted that it had to be cut and conditioned…….. But she was doing a Hair & Beauty course at the local polytechnic so said she’d do it for me……

“What did she do? Give you an ‘Up-do’? or something?” asked Jenny, getting more curious.

“That’s not the half of it.” replied Andy.

His eyes closed to avoid the random dribbles of shampoo that were just getting close to his eyes.

“Not at all. She said it had to be conditioned because I’d taken such lousy care of it…….. So, ok, we agreed she could do that. She’d do it on the Wednesday before the Ball on the Friday night. She didn’t tell me what she had in mind…..”

“Sounds like great fun to me.” said Jenny. “I’ve done this for several guys in my time.”

“Not like Sarah did, I’m sure….” Andy went on….. “….Don’t you believe it.” she replied.

“Come the Wednesday, Sarah sat me down and combed my hair through and said it had to be conditioned…… So that’s what I expected she’d do. She put some quite evil smelling stuff all over my hair with a tough little brush, really working it into the hair, and then said I had to wait for it to ‘develop’ — and, to help it she combed it through and wrapped my head in clingfilm. What she didn’t tell me was that the ‘conditioning’ would come later.”

He was into the story now. No turning back…

“What she’d actually done was bleach it completely. I thought it took a looonnnng time before she said it was ‘done’ and, because I couldn’t see what was going on, I just thought it had needed a lot of conditioning.”

“Bleach?? You mean. She was turning you into a blonde for the Winter Ball?” Jenny exclaimed.

“Too right…. But I didn’t know that for a while after……” Andy went on.

“Tell me more — let’s step over to the mirror.” Jenny suggested.

“We didn’t have a mirror like yours, so I couldn’t see. So she washed off the ‘conditioner’ and I was none the wiser. Then she trimmed my hair. I should’ve noticed. The trimmings must’ve been blonde….” Andy though briefly — did he know then? Yes, he must’ve….

Jenny had combed his hair through by now and was beginning her trimming of his, now grey, hair.

“How did you feel then?” she asked, not knowing what he would say.

“Well, kinda curious…. I guess…..” Andy paused.

“……But I didn’t know it was blonde…. I was thinking about how she would style me.”

Jenny wanted to know more: “Did you discuss a style for the Ball?”

“Not until then…… It was just about then she asked me if I had a style in mind.” he said.

Again, as the memory flooded back, Andy wriggled in the chair in front of Jenny’s mirror. The ba and panties we snug. The stockings and suspenders were tight. The nail polish, he knew, would be glistening on his toes. Don’t girls have more fun than guys!!?

………CHAPTER 2 FOLLOWS.