“Did you see Henry’s head?”
Liz and I are back from our fourth-holiday party in three weeks. We’re preparing for bed.
“Yes, I did. It was firmly attached to his neck as usual. And, there was the same rattling sound when he shook his head, like seeds in a dry gourd. Come, unzip me.”
She raises her hair off her neck and shoulders. I kiss the back of her neck before I unzip her dress.
“Henry may not be the brightest bulb on the tree, but he’s OK. Did you see the back of his head? That’s what I’m asking about.”
“Oh, my gosh! Let me rack my memory. Well, I have to confess that I do not recall in detail the back of Henry’s head. That magic moment must have slipped by me.”
“Don’t be such a smart ass. If you had spent less time with your Senior Partner, you would have been more observant, Counselor. The devil’s in the details.”
My wife of ten years is sitting at her dresser mirror removing her makeup.
“You could have a point there. Now, I did observe the devil in you giving your full attention to Sharon Hightower’s twin peaks.”
“That was out of pity for poor Sharon. If I didn’t ogle a little and give her a compliment she might descend into a dark pit of despair and anything could happen, even suicide. You know how emotionally fragile she is.”
“Of course, I do. Her emotional travails are legend, but, Professor, if I find you descending into her dark pit, you will welcome suicide as the alternative to my wrath.”
“Look, if she were on the verge of taking her life, I would be selfish not to provide the comforts of body and soul necessary to save a life. I think I would be duty bound to help her, but I would not enjoy it in the least. I would take no pleasure at all in that charitable donation.”
She turns around on her seat to face me. She gives me a serious look for a moment.
“Sounds like you have given the matter some real thought. If I were you, I would think again.”
“Well, if you’re going to be like that, I’ll just have to let her perish, but that death will weigh heavy on your conscience.”
She shakes her head as she returns to her makeup removal and mutters something about “men” and “silicone.”
“Look here’s the real point I’m trying to make—“
“I thought this was just another random pointless conversation.”
“Henry’s bald spot’s almost gone. It was the size of a softball, and now it’s about the size of a dime. All in four weeks. I mean, it’s fantastic.”
“OK, I’ll bite. How did he do it?”
I move over to her and place my hands on her shoulders, kiss the top of her head.
“Martha did it. Martha has a miracle cure handed down from her mother’s side of the family for generations.”
“Martha’s an idiot. She’s more neurotic than her patients. She—“
“I know. I know, but the proof’s in eating the pudding, and Henry has hair again after twenty-years. It’s a miracle.”
“It’s a miracle Martha and Henry have survived. They’re a pair of loons escaped from the loony bin.”
“True, but if the cure worked for Henry, it could work for me.”
She sighs with exasperation.
“So, how much does Henry want you to invest in this alleged cure?”
“Baby, it’s not like that at all. See, Martha, Martha cums on Henry’s bald spot and—“
“What? What did you say? You must be kidding.”
“No, no I’m not kidding. Two times a week. Monday and Saturday.”
Her laughing starts as a giggle and grows into a roar, burst into tears as she struggles not to pee on herself. I have to laugh with her at the idea of one-hundred-eighty pound Martha grinding away on her much smaller husbands bald spot. We finally stop laughing, holding on to each other on the bench in front of the makeup dresser. We look at each other in the mirror.
“OK, Professor, you know they’re trying to make a fool out of you, out of us right?”
I nod to her in the mirror.
“I know. I do, but—“
“But, you want to try anyway, right? Oh, look at you’re, your blushing.”
That statement makes me blush even deeper.
“It could be fun, and if you don’t want to…”
She massages my bald spot.
“Well, I guess we could give it a try, but I like your bald spot.” She kisses my bald spot. “Could we keep just a tiny bald spot for old times’ sake?”
“Absolutely. It’s a deal.”
We seal the deal with a kiss, and we start exploring the logistics of the miracle hair restoring process.
I sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and she stands over me. I give a little oral lubrication to her vagina to get her started and, we get a head start on our first session.
Now, all I have to do is convince Sharon to do this in our weekly tryst. Henry said it speeds up the process if you use two differ sources of cum.
##
Six weeks later my large bald spot is less than dime size. And, I should be happy, but my wife’s Senior Partner at her firm has also eliminated almost all of his bald spot. I heard him tell another guest at our sixth post-holiday bash that he was keeping a little of the bald spot “…for old times’ sake.” I wonder…
℘
Frederick K. Foote, Jr. has published over a hundred stories and poems including literary, science fiction, fables, and horror genres. A collection of Frederick’s short stories, For the Sake of Soul, was published in October 2015 by Blue Nile Press. Another collection of short stories, Crossroads Encounters, is scheduled for publication in May 2016 by Choose the Sword Press.
For a list of Frederick’s publications, go to: https://fkfoote.wordpress.com/
[…] March in 2016. 88. “Head Start” published by Dime Store Review at: http://www.dimeshowreview.com/head-start-frederick-k-foote/ on June 2, 2016. 89. “Twelve” published by Dime Show Review at: […]