A second visit to the salon — rather sooner than expected

“Twelve Thirty…… ok, then…. I’ll look forward to seeing you, Andy.”
Jenny was surprised he had called so soon. But he had. The very next day.
After his most recent appointment. When he had opened up about his past.
12.30pm was the end of her working day on a Saturday. Jenny liked the afternoon to herself. So, even if the appointment ran over, she would be free say around 1.30pm. He couldn’t need much doing…. He will have only been in a little while ago. What an intriguing man!
The last time had ended rather abruptly, she thought; Andy had left so soon after telling her about his Winter Turn-About Ball at Uni. She wanted to know much more about his “Marilyn”……
Perhaps she wouldn’t plan anything definite for that afternoon; this coming Saturday.
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Andy put the phone down. His heart racing inside his chest. He was breathless.

He had done it…… Not only had he told her his story….

He had now booked another appointment. It would be easier a second time.

To tell her more.

He had gone over and over the previous day’s appointment at Jenny’s salon.

He had loved every minute. Secretly, because his wife was away, he felt guilty.

But then, thinking about it, he had no right to feel that way. It was her choice.

Not to be involved. To tolerate. To know he dressed when she was away.

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He sat outside her salon, waiting for Jenny’s last client of the day to leave.

His wife was away again. She wouldn’t notice another haircut.

Saturday was a busy day for Jenny and she was evidently running late.

He had chosen to ring and tell her by phone that he himself would be late.

He apologised but she said not to worry at all.

He sat there telling himself again what he had told her.

About Marilyn……. He was Marilyn Monroe at that Turnabout Ball, 40 years ago.

He told her about the halter-neck dress, in its gold satin. And the bodystocking.

And the bra and panties. And the make-up.

And most importantly, about the way his flat-mate Sarah had done his hair.

She had bleached it and toned it to a beautiful baby blonde shade.

She had rollered it and set it, beautifully, in a classic “Marilyn” style.

He had loved it…. But just how much, he hadn’t said. But he would.

In the next hour or so.

He was going to tell her how that Ball had changed his life. Conventional though he looked now.

The last client left, closing the door to the salon with a cheerful wave, “See you soon!”, he heard.

What would Jenny make of him after that? He wondered…….

He was wearing his nice undergarments again. Stockings and suspenders, panties and chemise.
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“Hello again!........ Can I call you Andy?” Jenny said imploringly.

“Of course you can, Jenny; suits me.” Andy responded, secretly overjoyed at this familiarity.

“Well, what can I do for you today?” she asked him.

“Just carry on like we were doing last time — give me a wash and a trim please…”

“Oh, I was hoping to send you blonde all over again!” Jenny exclaimed — there being nobody else in the room to hear her. “You’d obviously enjoyed yourself that first time….”

“Just a wash, now….” Andy looked down, over-come with sudden shyness. Damn!!!

“Hey, I was just joking….” Jenny retracted realising she might have over-stepped the mark….

“Come on over to the wash basins and we’ll get you gowned-up…..” I was hoping you’d finish off your story that got stopped when you had to leave last time…… About you… And Marilyn….?” Jenny genuinely wanted to know more about Andy and his experience as a teen/twenty year old.
And to find out why he was back in her salon so soon?!

Soon enough, her wish was granted. Once Andy sat in the shampooing chair, with his head laid back in the crescent of porcelain and the water began to flow, he relaxed. Totally.

This was heaven!

Jenny ran her fingers through his hair — almost newly-cut. There wouldn’t be much trimming to be done this time. “I’ll get some special conditioner for you…” she said, echoing the treatment he had received from Sarah, all those years ago. She had called it ‘conditioning’ when she bleached his hair that first time...........! She had tricked him that first time.

He said nothing. He shivered……. In excitement. Re-living that day,… at Sarah’s hands.

“While I do that, you have to tell me more about the night you went as Marilyn.” Jenny implored him. And that was enough. It was as if the floodgates opened. His defences down, he began……

“You must keep this all to yourself, Jenny…..” (Pause) “You must. Because I’ve never told this to another living soul — except those who were at the Ball, of course. I fell into the part I was to play — from the moment I slipped on that beautiful dress…… well, maybe from the time my hair was set just so. Sarah said it would be simple — guys as girls and girls as guys… but she didn’t tell me that we could feel the way I was feeling….. I just spent the whole evening adoring the glamour ………” He paused wondering if he should say what he was thinking……

“….and feeling just so feminine…….. Impossible, I know…… Look at me now…” Andy was almost back there as he spoke, Jenny could tell.

“You mean, the clothes and the make-up and hair made you actually feel you were female???.....” Incredulous, she was prepared to believe it… only if she heard some more. “Like, how did this manifest itself?”

“Well, jealousy for a start… I found myself admiring other girls’ hair and make-up…. And then found myself hating them for looking cooler and sexier than I felt…… Just one or two of them. Some were awful! ….Just those two. (His mind wandered back — two guys had done almost as good a job in dressing as he had.)

And there were girls there as girls….. But it was those dressed as guys that had style that I really admired…….. Those I really did get jealous about. - their clothes.... I do remember there was one girl who had the best and most beautiful figure — lovely tits, just big enough to be beautiful… not too big, and they were served up on a most wonderful platform brassiere that showed them off to perfection….. all surrounded by pink and white lace, just covering her nipples. She wore a man’s suit with the pink and white lace blouse revealing everything…… I just wanted to have them…. Not like to eat — like a guy — but to literally have them for myself, for my own….. My tits that night were just packed cotton wool. Although, I have to admit, mine looked good peeking out from the halter neckline.”

Andy paused again….. Almost shocked at the way he had lost his previous inhibitions.

While he talked, Jenny washed away the conditioning treatment and towel-dried Andy’s hair.

“She sounds good enough for anyone to eat!” exclaimed Jenny.

Jenny hadn’t been prepared for such openness so soon in the conversation…. She had only just washed his hair and Andy was describing deep deep emotions about a long-ago event. She was quietly stunned. No client had even disclosed such things to her before. Some had secrets she now shared, but this…..????!!!!!!

“Well, I made sure that we exchanged numbers before we left the Ball…”

“And did you get to meet her again??”

“Nah, she proved to be a huge cock-tease, nothing more.

“So, what happened after the Ball? — to you and Sarah?” Jenny enquired, wondering if Sarah and Andy had survived in a relationship.

“We went home that evening — to the flat in the house we shared….. and we fucked as woman and man — still in roles for the Ball. She had a toy that we played with.” Andy laughed at the thought.
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By the time Andy had moved from shampooing basin to Jenny’s styling chair, the talk had moved on to Sarah and how their relationship changed after the Ball. It was clear to her that the Winter turnaround had been deeply moving for him and that Andy would have been a changed man after his night as “Marilyn”. He had so loved that dress…… And he had so loved the hair!

“Did you stay as lovers after that?” she asked him, expecting a positive answer.

“Well, in a way, we did… I guess….. It was a big house we shared so if you’re asking did we move in together, the answer’s no, we stayed separate….. and yes, we did screw from time-to-time but we both had other friends in the house, and elsewhere in Uni. In our class and subject groupings. We are talking thirty years ago — this was all new to us… and everyone was keen to explore….”

“Where did it lead you…. Next?” Jenny asked, thinking that Andy’s experiences hadn’t followed on from the Ball…….

“Best thing of all was the dress — I paid the penalty for non-returning to the hire shop and kept it. Said it had been ruined by drinks going over it…… But I kept it to wear.” Andy admitted. “I did say, don’t tell anyone, didn’t I? You won’t will you?”

“Who would I possibly tell?” Jenny said — almost as a whisper. “Go on……”

“Well, Sarah and me, we were always close…. Didn’t stop us having rows of course….. Like the month after the Ball….. we had a real up-and-downer….. She got really intense about me and the roots in my hair that were showing dark…. Well, within a few days, they showed. And she was insistent that they were cool and I should let them grow out — let them show…… I’d already made it clear that being blonde was cool and I wanted to stay so…… She went off on a ‘bender’ about how the roots would be how I should wear my hair….”

“Leave the blonde, and show the roots?” Jenny asked.

“Yeah. When I said I was going to get them done — bleached again — by somebody else if she wouldn’t do them for me — she nearly blew a gasket. She wanted to be in control, I guess. She wanted my hair to be ‘her creation’ and wouldn’t have anybody else meddling with it.”

“So, you stayed blonde?”

“Naturally!”… Or at least, very Unnaturally!”

“And did Sarah do your roots for you? ….or did you go elsewhere to get them done?”

“No, in the end, Sarah did them — kept in control, I guess….. She insisted on choosing the shade of toner I would wear…… And she insisted we change that regularly. After that, she did my roots every ten days or so… People got used to me as a blonde…… They only noticed when Sarah got a bit carried away with her toner selection…… Then, they did comment…. Steely- blue-grey, Strawberry and pure Ash blonde were noticed!” I was blonde for months and I can claim to have been living proof that “Blondes do have more fun!” Sarah wasn’t the only girl to be keen on my look — I was in heaven really.”

Jenny looked into the mirror. Into Andy’s eyes. She delved deep into the soul of this attractive greying man who sat in her salon chair, now it seemed, totally dis-inhibited.

“And what about your clothes? You kept the dress….. Did you keep anything else? And did you buy anything else???”

Jenny was pushing now for an admission which she almost knew now she was going to get — this guy had learnt about cross-dressing and was enjoying it by then.

She combed his towel-dry hair this way and that, toying with it as her scissors took tiny lengths of hair from all around his crown. She could picture him now — as a blonde — wearing that gold satin halter-neck dress, pouting like Marilyn Monroe, with luscious red lips…..

“I didn’t get any more clothes then — it was tough being a student and there wasn’t much money left after beer and take-away Indian or Chinese meals………… I had kept the underwear from the Ball so that made me comfortable………. Didn’t make me show myself off at all — this was a kind of house where you’d get a name as a bore if you didn’t lighten up most times….. So I kept myself to my own room and, when Sarah came, she indulged me.

“So you were a blonde for your next birthday -how old were you then?”

“Twenty one. I stayed so until the Ball the next year…..”

“What happened then? Was it the same format??” Jenny asked, feigning excitement.

“It was….. and Sarah and me had another argument……. “

“What about?”

“Oh, a whole lot of things….. I suppose we’d been almost an item but not an item for too long. She wanted me to stay blonde, I was bored with it. She wanted to do me as Marilyn again, and I thought that was last year… I wanted something fresh. She didn’t think I should spend money on clothes… I had an evening bar job and felt it wasn’t her business….. “ Andy sighed, deeply.
“It did get a bit heavy. Pity really.” He regretted the inevitable split in the relationship with sarah that followed. “I had a great time with her. I’m sad I didn’t last longer. But we both seemed to be moving on. She was going to leave the college and do a practical year in her work - then she wanted to move to London. Which I couldn’t do — I still had a year at Uni. To complete.”

Jenny found herself with her hands on Andy’s shoulders. She had finished the tiny amount of trimming she had been able to do on his hair. She had brushed his neck to remove the stray starnds of hair. She had dried his hair lightly with a blow-dryer and curling brush, folding the longer strands of hair under to smooth the finish. And she had put the brush and dryer down to reach for the mirror, so she could show Andy her handiwork. But her hands were on his shoulders.

His eyes met hers in the mirror.

It was electric.

In that moment. Something charged between them.

But neither would say anything.

After all, she’s twenty years younger than me. He thought. After all, he’s a customer, a stranger, and he’s that much older than me. She thought.

“So, there you were, all ready to go to the Ball with nobody to dress you…. Sounds like Cinderella!” Jenny felt able to make a mocking jibe like that, in a very good-natured way, because she felt now that she knew this guy quite well…… In a short time, she had seen inside his Twenty-something head.

“What was it the girls said to Julia Roberts in ‘Pretty Woman’….. Cinder..Fucking..Rella!?? Yeah, that’s just how I must’ve felt at the time. She wouldn’t dress me, and she wouldn’t do my hair any different…….” Andy was really regretting the break-up with Sarah that followed.

“Well, what could I do? I was angry and I had nobody to do what I wanted doing…. So, I went out and blew a week’s wages on having my hair coloured and set, and I blew another week’s wages on a new dress that would go well at the Ball. Actually, that was two weeks’ wages!”

Jenny understood very easily the conundrum that Andy had faced. He could, of course, have given up on the whole idea and not even gone to the Ball. He could have sulked and stayed home. But something deep inside him had told him “no — you want this, so go and get it!” So he had gone out and got it…….. from complete strangers. That took courage in a way…. but may have been easier because of “no come-back”. What a man!!

“So you wanted a new look….. What was that? And who did you get to create it for you?..... Or did you try to create it yourself?” Jenny could envisage any one of these scenarios. Her hands still rested on his shoulders, but her work on his hair was finished.

Andy smiled….. “Trying myself wasn’t an option — it all had to be done in the day of the Ball…. And my skills with mascara and foundation and lipstick and eyeliner and eyeshadow were crap! And there was nobody else in the house who’d help. So it was up to me to find a salon, or two salons — one for hair and one for make-up. It was tricky approaching strangers but then I reasoned, it’s their job so why would they have a problem? Just because I was a guy….. And I explained about the ball — which was true….. I can’t have been the only one…. But maybe the only one to look quite so good!”

He flashed his eyes at Jenny in mock flirtation.

“I’d have loved the challenge….. How did you choose which salons to go to?” Jenny said, with genuine interest. She also meant that she would have loved to have been Andy’s first salon stylist.

“Simple really, I chose a salon in a quiet part of town — University cities have many back-lanes and quiet places. You get to know them. When you want a quiet pub or a shop that’s not on the High Street… So, I summoned up some guts and just waded into a little salon, not unlike your one here. It had a nail and beauty bar next door which was owned by the same girl, I guessed.”

“Did she know about the annual Ball for the Uni?”

“She did —and she said she’d had other customers too so “what did I want?” Like, nothing fazed her, so I just rolled out a list of things I wanted to create a different look — not Marilyn. She was behind me. I wanted big hair — this is the Seventies remember — and I wanted glam make-up. She could choose how she styled me. The biggest change was that I wanted to be a blonde no longer…. I wanted to be a Redhead… really a firey redhead!”

“But weren’t you a beautiful blonde at the time?” jenny found this hard to believe.

“Yeah, but I’d been blonde for nearly a year. I’d been every shade of blonde you could imagine. I wanted to be different — almost so different people wouldn’t recognise me at the Ball.”

“Why Red??” she asked, intrigued.

“Redheads are sexier!” … at least he was honest. What better reason?

Andy shifted in Jenny’s styling chair and his underwear came back into consciousness. His stockings were still tight and clung to his skin. His suspenders dug into his thighs a little — no pain, no gain! — His chemise was cool against his skin and the panties… well, the lace was gorgeous…..
Jenny’s hands slipped from his shoulders. She was suddenly conscious that they shouldn’t be there.

“My hair was still chin length, or slightly longer, and I wanted it in a more wavy style. I’d been a bob-styled head to long enough. And she did as I asked. The set was on large rollers but very tightly wound and very much saturated with styling lotion. I ended up CURLY!”

“And the make-up?

“Jenny, you’d not think to look at me now, but I really got given the look of the Seventies — Dallas-like! Long talons for finger-nails, fake lashes and loads of mascara. Lipstick to die for — long-lasting… lasted until the following morning I have to say!”

“And what clothes did you choose?”

“Dallas!! Shoulder pads and very tightly-waisted. The most expensive thing I bought was the waspie corset. To give me a waist. Nobody recognised me at the ball! I loved it — every minute of it, all night! The question was what would I do the following day? People had gotte used to me as a blonde. Now I’d gone missing. Then this Redhead turns up. That’s a story worth telling.”

Jenny’s hands rested back on Andy’s shoulders. She looked at him in the mirror.
“To look at you now….. I’d never have guessed! Do you want another appointment?”

CHAPTER FIVE HAS TO FOLLOW………………………..