Priya shaved my head in sleep

It was a warm summer evening and Priya decided to surprise her boyfriend Ron with something special. She had been eyeing his shaggy, unkempt locks for weeks now and thought to herself, "What if I surprise him by giving him a smooth shave?" Priya snuck into the bathroom and fished out her late grandfather's straight shaving razor. It felt heavy and substantial in her hand, a polished mahogany handle with a razor sharp stainless steel blade. She had watched him use it many years ago and worked up the courage to ask her mother for it after he passed. Now the time had come to put her grandfather's heirloom to use. Pacing herself, Priya waited until Ron was deep in slumber. She crept up to their bed, holding the open straight razor gingerly between her thumb and forefinger. Ron stirred slightly as Priya gently ran the cool metal along his jawline. He murmured something incoherent and rolled over onto his stomach. Perfect, Priya thought, now I have full access to his ripe, manly scalp. She reached for the shaving brush and bowl on the side of the bed. The water was still warm from her late night shower. Lathering up a generous amount of shave soap, Priya began to paint Ron's thick head of hair with the bristled brush. Starting at the temples and working her way back, she ensured every inch was slick and slippery. Ron's hair felt coarse and wiry between her fingers, so different from her own silken locks. Priya took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She opened the straight razor and aligned its gleaming blade with the base of Ron's skull. With a firm, smooth motion, she drew the razor up his scalp, the keen edge effortlessly shearing through Ron's dense man-mane. The front section plopped to the bedspread in a damp clump. Ron shifted slightly in his sleep but quickly slipped back into deep slumber, dead to the world. Priya repeated the shaving process, section by section, peeling away great swaths of regrown stubble to reveal the pasty, newly exposed skin underneath. The shaved hair tumbled across their comforter like a verdant snowfall. A few stray clippings wafted up on the air currents, the scents of bay rum and musk mixing with the sharp odor of the blade. Soon, only a final strip remained at the crown of Ron's head. Priya took her time, enjoying the last slow, deliberate strokes. She had to admit, Ron looked good like this - fresh and clean, a new man. Priya set the razor aside and ran her fingers through the stubble at the nape of his neck, relishing the smooth skin. Ron stirred again but did not wake. Priya casually tossed the clippings into the wastebasket and wiped the straight razor clean with a towel. She admired her handiwork, the bare expanse of Ron's scalp like a fresh winter wonderland. A light sheen of moisture coated his skin from the remaining shaving lather. Priya resisted the urge to bend down and plant a kiss on the newly bared skin, knowing she'd leave lipstick and spoil the surprise. Holding the straight razor in a delicate fist, Priya crept back out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She rinsed the grandfather's straight razor under the sink and returned it to the medicine cabinet. Priya couldn't suppress a smug smile. Her man was going to love waking up to a brand new look. The satisfaction of a job well done filled her as she headed to the living room to wait for morning. A few hours later, Ron awoke with a yawn, his scheduled wake up call. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, only to find...nothing. Ron jumped out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom, Priya right behind him. "What the heck?!" Ron exclaimed, gaping at his sudden chrome dome in the mirror. Priya stood behind him, stifling a giggle. "You shaved my head! While I was sleeping!" Ron brought both hands up to feel his smooth bald head. "It's so...smooth." Ron turned around to face her. "I can't believe you did this! I was going to get a trim, not a complete buzz." He brought his hands back up to his head, feeling the stubble at the edges. Ron looked conflicted, clearly trying to decide how he felt about the new look. "Surprise!" Priya threw her arms around his neck, showering his face with kisses and holding him tight. "I just thought you'd look so hot with a shaved head. And so sexy, bald and smooth." She kissed him again before pulling back with an impish grin. "Besides, where's the fun in just a little trim when we can go for the complete smooth shave? I bet you'll get so much attention looking like this." Ron hesitated a moment longer, then allowed himself to be swayed by Priya's enthusiasm. "Well, since you put it that way..." He brought a hand up to feel the bare skin of his scalp again, this time with a smile. "I suppose I could get used to this. It does feel kind of...freeing." Ron caught Priya's eye in the mirror and both of them burst out laughing. "Besides", he said with a smirk, "now you'll have to be in charge of keeping me shaved smooth like this from now on." Ron pulled Priya back in close. "Deal?" Priya smiled up at him, already imagining running the straight razor over Ron's scalp on a regular basis. "Oh, it's so a deal." And she sealed it with a kiss.

Why did I shaved my head - Headshave 2024

Ron, a lanky, bearded man in his late twenties, had always been cautious around Seema, his girlfriend of two years. Her sharp wit and fiery spirit made her a force to be reckoned with, and Ron tread carefully to avoid her fiery retorts. Yet, there was one thing Ron had been yearning to do, a wild idea fueled by his adventurous spirit and a touch of recklessness. He wanted to shave his head with a straight razor. One evening, Ron decided to broach the subject, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Seema, you know how I've always wanted to try something different?" he began, playing with the edge of his beard nervously. Seema raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of suspicion and amusement. "What are you cooking up now, Ron?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of challenge. Ron took a deep breath and launched into his idea. "I want to shave my head, Seema. With a straight razor." He braced himself, waiting for her reaction. Seema burst into laughter, her rich, melodic sound filling the room. "Oh, Ron," she managed between giggles, "you have no idea what you're asking for." She leaned back, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But I do have a proposal for you." Ron's curiosity piqued. "A proposal?" he echoed, his heart still racing. Seema nodded, her smile wicked. "If you want to do this, I'll let you. But on one condition. You have to let me take you to my barber, and I'll show you what a real shave feels like." Ron hesitated, then nodded. He had started this, after all. "Deal," he said, sticking out his hand. Seema grinned and shook his hand. "You're mine now, Ron," she said, her voice laced with a playful threat. A few days later, Seema dragged Ron to her favorite barbershop, a small, bustling place filled with the buzz of clippers and men in various stages of hairlessness. The scent of shaving cream and aftershave hung heavy in the air. Ron felt a flutter of nervousness in his stomach. Seema pushed him towards an old, burly man with a gleaming straight razor. "George, meet Ron," she said, her voice far too cheerful. "He wants a bald head. Smooth as an egg, please." George's eyes twinkled as he looked Ron up and down. "You're sure about this, son?" he asked, his voice gruff. Ron swallowed hard, then nodded. "Do your worst, George," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. George chuckled and flung a cape around Ron's neck. "You heard the man, Seema," he said, winking at her. "Let's make this one shine." Seema grinned, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. She sat down in a nearby chair, her gaze never wavering from Ron. The process was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. George's steady hands glided over Ron's scalp, the straight razor whispering through his hair, leaving nothing but smooth skin in its wake. Ron's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in short gasps. When the Razor shaved Ron's hair, his shaved hair fell off his head and gathered on the ground. The sound of headshave is buzzing in Ron's ear. He could feel Seema's gaze, her silent encouragement spurring him on. Finally, after what felt like hours, George stepped back, his hand on Ron's shoulder. "All done, son," he said, a note of pride in his voice. Ron stood, feeling the cool air kiss his freshly shaven scalp. He reached up tentatively, his fingers smoothing over the smooth, bare skin. A wave of shock ran through him. This was it. He was bald. Seema stood, her eyes wide as she took in Ron's new look. Then, to Ron's surprise, she burst into laughter. Deep, belly laughter echoed through the barbershop. Ron felt a flutter of irritation. "What's so funny?" he asked, his voice gruff. Seema wiped away a tear, her laughter subsiding. "You look like an egg, Ron," she said, her voice choked with mirth. "A big, shiny egg." Ron felt a surge of indignation. "Well, you said you wanted me bald," he retorted, crossing his arms. Seema grinned, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Oh, I did," she said, her voice soft. "And you look absolutely ridiculous. But I love it." Ron stared at her, his mouth agape. "What?" he spluttered. Seema's grin widened. "You look amazing, Ron," she said,