Romantic Haircut Stories Novels & Stories

Her first stop was a hair salon. For years, people had praised her long hair, saying it made her look gentle and refined. Later, they said she looked like a ghost. She had met Zane back in their school days. She had always kept her long hair because someone once told her, “Tying your hair together means a lifetime commitment.” But today, she didn’t hesitate. The moment the hairstylist’s scissors snipped through her hair, her decision was sealed. She had thought that some things could be discussed, so she had waited for Zane’s explanation.

Mrs. Zaffino gave me an awkward look. “I’m going to make Mr. Freeman some juice.” However, I kept teasing, “The most famous stylist gave me this haircut. He just came back from abroad. One snip from him costs what most people make in a month.” Mrs. Zaffino was shocked. “Tsk, tsk. I really don’t get his style. You’re lucky you’re pretty. If I got a haircut like this, I wouldn’t go out and let anyone see me.”

I wanted to sound firm but my voice and legs were trembling so much, I whimpered. Rose came so close to my left ear, licked it, and whispered, "since you don't know, I would be glad to tell you. I am going to give you a haircut." "A haircut..?" I blinked, this can't be happening. "What, no, please not my hair." I struggled but I couldn’t shrug them off, little tears started trickling down my eyes then. "No please don't do this, please. I will do anything you want but please, not my hair."

My hair was everywhere but laying down. Rose cracked up laughing. "Well, Princess of Hell, fallen angel, victim of a horrendous case of bedhead. Come on, Delirus and Zukira have decided to join the wedding. So now it's a double ceremony. Let's get you dressed, made up and married." She yanked my hand from my face and sat me in the chair by my dresser. Rose told me about how Delirus had decided to propose, since he had never felt more comfortable with anyone else before and other cliched romantic notions. Half asleep and only hearing half, I flinched as she ran my brush through my knotted hair. "Geez girl, how do you manage to tame this mane of yours?" "By sheer luck. My hair never does what

I really wished he would just let this go and drive us home. He instead goes around and opens my door. I mumble about my dislike of the situation but step out regardless. We walk into the salon and Roman speaks to the front desk help. The hair barber and stylist that is appointed to cut Roman’s hair is a hot guy in his late twenties with body tattoos and he flirt with me by telling me he would love to style my hair and make me look even prettier than I already do. Roman rolls his eyes in jealously. When the hair stylist gets away from ear shot, I whisper to Roman. “Jealous aren’t you? You should’ve listened to me and drove us home. I smirk at him

"I better cut my hair short someday." "No, you are not going to do that." "Excuse you, grumpy man, this is my hair." She protested. "I told you, you can do anything but not without my consent. I don't want you to cut your lovely hair." I reminded her obsessively. I know it sounds ridiculous but what to do, I can't hide this part of me when it is about her. "What are you writing? Is that a romance story again?" I asked, changing the topic.

Did she have an issue with his hairstyle? Ivana sheepishly lowered her hand. "It's not about the haircut," she said softly. "I read in a book that if you like someone but can't always be with them, you can keep a lock of their hair to look at whenever you miss them." Ivana's eyes sparkled. "Isn't that romantic? Since you said you might not come with me to find the Hag, I thought I'd keep a lock of your hair." Jacob didn't respond. He turned on his phone's front camera and saw his handsome face still intact, but now there was a conspicuous gap in his bangs, like a set of perfect teeth missing a front tooth. It looked ridiculous.

Not talk, not deal with everything that had just happened. But before I got the nerve to speak, Atalanta did. “You are mad at me.” “A tiny bit.” “I’m sorry.” I sighed, kissing the top of her wet hair. “I know.” I grabbed a bottle of shampoo and began washing her hair. She had so much less hair now, and there were some patches of hair totally burned off. Artemis had healed her skin, so there were no scars, but it takes a while for hair to grow back. The hairdresser had done a great job, though. Atalanta told me the hairdresser had given her something called a wolfcut, which made her laugh. But it had different lengths of hair, which worked perfectly.

"You mау look at аnd touch уоur hаіr now mу lоvе. I am vеrу ѕаtіѕfіеd wіth thе results." I сhоѕе thе kіtсhеn to сut hеr hаіr for many rеаѕоnѕ. Fоr оnе thіѕ is whеrе I first met her аnd wе mаdе оur first соnnесtіоn. Sесоnd thеrе are nо mirrors fоr hеr to vіеw hеr haircut. Rоѕе could nеvеr bе ѕurе hоw ѕhоrt I wаѕ actually сuttіng hеr hаіr and I dіd not аllоw hеr tо tоuсh іt durіng thе cut. If Rоѕе had gone to a ѕаlоn to have her hаіr сut аnd ѕtуlеd, ѕhе wоuld hаvе bе аblе tо view the cut іn рrоgrеѕѕ. Rоѕе соuld соnѕult wіth аnd mаkе ѕuggеѕtіоnѕ to thе stylist; as wоuld аnу wоmаn at the ѕаlоn. Rose wоuld in сhаrgе of hеr hair аnd be аblе tо make сhоісеѕ. On ѕоmе lеvеl, Rоѕе'ѕ ѕubmіѕѕіvе nature

I was pretty good at it and at the urging of my then girlfriend Julie, had submitted a few to a story site named Erotic escapes where under the pen name hotforteacher I'd gotten some pretty good reviews. Most of my stories were about older women with guys my age and Miss Ross had been the inspiration for many of them. Most of my female leads had the same long dark hair, big brown eyes and perfect full lips as my favorite English teacher. Yes Miss Ross had been the nasty little cougar in my mind and in print many times over the last few months. Shit, I'd even joined her writing discussion group because it met every other Sunday at her house.