About Lena Read online

  Table of Contents

  About Lena

  Inside Flap Summary

  Publisher’s Summary

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Epilog

  About the Author

  About Lena

  Giulia Napoli

  Inside Flap Summary

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  About Lena is a fun, sexy, erotic story of a woman who finds the thrills of sexual satisfaction, lust and completeness in submitting to the desire of her husband to change her. Lena, a bit timid, uncertain and very apprehensive at first, allows Brian to alter her to his desires, and finds her own blossoming, erotic nature along the way. The changes, the act of changing, and finally submitting to Brian’s will force Lena to undergo renewal in her own sexuality. The couple’s obvious attraction to each other as her evolution progresses is evident in the increasing fervor of their lovemaking and Lena’s response to her husband’s desires. In the end, Lena comes to realize her true self, what is supremely erotic to her, and her need to accede to her husband’s desires to achieve her own fulfillment.

  This is an adult story containing open discussions and scenes of sexuality and sexual relations. It is unsuitable for anyone not an adult.

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  Publisher’s Summary

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  About Lena is, more than anything else, a journey from everyday existence, to the heights of partner-induced sexuality. The particulars will excite many readers. But the results will cause all readers to reexamine their own view of what it means to be different and to submit to sexually intoxicating behavior. This story is for mature adults.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, businesses, organizations or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

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  Global Jele Publishing Company

  eBooks Partners

  [email protected]

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  Copyright © 2012 by Global Jele Publishing Company

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  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner, in print or electronically, without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and articles. For information address email subject line to Portfolio Manager at [email protected].

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  Other books and stories by Giulia Napoli

  Ashley’s Wedding

  Oh Claire!

  Dedication

  For everyone willing to try something different for the fulfillment of love and belonging.

  Acknowledgements

  My special thanks and appreciation go to my editor at Global Jele, for hours of labor in reviewing About Lena, and priceless, detailed input for improving the story.

  I also want to thank my first-draft readers for feedback that resulted in a better story.

  Finally, my thanks to The Narrator, for telling the story to me.

  Giulia Napoli

  In the region of the Great Lakes, USA

  January, 2012

  About Lena

  Giulia Napoli

  Chapter 1

  Hello there, dear Reader! My name is … well, in all honestly, my name isn’t that important to what you’re about to read. After all, this tale isn’t about me; it’s About Lena. To keep things simple, you can call me The Narrator.

  I’m a good storyteller, and I’m particularly good at retelling stories that I’ve either heard about or experienced myself. That said, I’ve been known to make up a good tale or two as well. But I really enjoy retelling great stories.

  Alas, I’m not much of a writer. But, thankfully, my dear friend, Giulia Napoli, has agreed to write this narrative so that we can share it with everyone out there who’ll put up a buck for a Kindle download. So, once upon a time … ah… ahem … no, no, no …let’s try that again:

  Once in a while a story comes along which is too good to pass up. You just have to tell it and retell it and, if you have talented friends, get one of them to write it down. That’s why I feel compelled to tell Lena’s story, now that a year has passed since it happened.

  I met Lena (she pronounces it “Layna”) on a chat site a little over a year ago, while looking for someone interesting to swap ideas with me. Lena, a freelance programmer by trade, was, at that particular time, desperately trying to decide whether or not to let her husband shave her head. She’d asked the opinions of a small number of people via chat or email, the better to remain anonymous since this was turning out to be a traumatic decision for her. No surprise there, I suppose.

  As far as I could tell, she’d already spent several weeks trying to sort through the wide-ranging advice she was getting. A few people told her to go for it, most told her she’d regret it immediately. Several were convinced, based on Lena’s discussion of her close, loving, sharing relationship with her husband, that this first event would surely enhance hers and her husband’s interest in trying other erotica, the better to feed fetishes that they both admitted to having. Lena wanted to please her husband, who treated her like gold, and went out of his way to support her in whatever was happening in her life at the moment. Basically, he was an all-around good guy. In fact, in Lena’s words, his only fault, if it could be called that, was that he had an admitted hair fetish - something Lena had known since before they were married.

  Lena had gotten to the point where she was so obsessed with thinking about what to do, and distressed about the decision that she was trying to make, that she was about to give up on the entire idea. It was about then that she found, via email, a woman who’d been shaved by her lover (man or woman, I never knew), and who, over a couple of weeks, seems to have gradually talked Lena into doing it. Thus, Lena decided to sacrifice her long, layered, auburn locks for the gratification of her husband, and to satisfy her own rather morbid curiosity about facing the world without her security blanket of hair.

  What follows is my consolidation and retelling of Lena’s later messages to me, with some of my own comments thrown in. It starts after Lena had decided to let her husband do it, and describes the wind-up, the pitch, and the home run. I’ll step aside for a bit, and let Lena be narrator:

  I made reservations at an Embassy Suites hotel on the outskirts of a city about 2 hours from where we live. I surprised Brian on Friday when he got home from a business trip that had taken him out of town all week, and told him we were going to spend the weekend away from home to concentrate on fulfilling his fantasy. Besides, if I were going to do this, I wanted my husband all to myself for at least three days. I'd already packed most of what we needed, including a shaving kit that I had gotten him for this special weekend, and a blond wig. I was wearing a wig that I had bought on Thursday. It was redder than the dark reddish-brown color of my own hair. It's curly and short, but it looks very real. I don't look like me in it, but it does look natural.

  We got on the freeway just before 6:30 and drove the hundred or so miles. The large, modern hotel was near another freeway, well into the city’s suburbs. We checked in about 8:30 Friday night. We hadn't eaten so we walked down the access road to a fairly nice restaurant and had dinner. The wine was especially rich, deeply red, with overtones of blackberries and a flavor so vivid that I remember the taste clearly, even now. I guess all my senses were at their apex from an adrenaline rush. I drank more wine than usual because my heart was pounding like a drum. I was both excited and scared out
of my wits. I couldn't stop thinking that my Brian was going to remove all my hair sometime over the weekend.

  After dinner, we sat quietly with a small glass of sweet, heady Harvey’s Bristol Cream sherry for each of us. Brian was wearing a somewhat shiny, gray, fitted polo shirt and dark, snug trousers. He was so good-looking! I couldn’t help but drink him in, unable to take my eyes off his handsome, slightly-rugged face. We’ve been told that we complement each other perfectly; Brian is intensely masculine, and I am very much a woman - delightfully curvy (I’ve been told), but svelte and elegant. Brian is about seven inches taller than I. He’s shaped like a tight end (and he does have a tight end!), with broad, muscular shoulders, a perfect six-pack, a trim waist, and rock-hard, powerful legs. Oh yeh – and very wavy, medium-length, silky dark brown hair and dark eyes.

  Finally, the sherry was gone, and we were ready to leave. The dinner had been delightful, and we’d lingered longer than I expected. By the time we walked back to the hotel, it was about 11:00.

  Back in our room, I kicked off my sandals and went to the bathroom. When I came out, he was standing there with the scissors I had given him. A boyish grin brightened his face as he said something like, "It's time for a trim."

  Brian set the scissors down and put his arms on my waist as he looked down into my eyes. “Are you sure, Lena? I would never want you to do anything you’re not sure of, no matter how much I want it. I do love you so.”

  “Darling, I’ve given this so much thought that I don’t want to think about it anymore. I’m decided. Do me.” I ended my clear statement of commitment with an inviting smile. I realized my heart was beating hard enough to leap out of my chest at any moment.

  Brian reached up to slowly unbutton my blouse. I could feel his hands shake ever-so-slightly from the excitement of the moment. He slipped the blouse off of my shoulders and reached around me to unfasten my bra. I looked up into his eyes at that moment and he lowered his head to kiss me long and deeply. He placed his hands on either side of my face and tilted my head back, the better to position our mouths. As he continued to kiss me, I reached down, released the clasp on my skirt, and let it tumble to the floor at my feet.

  I pressed myself tightly against Brian. I could feel his hardness against my tummy. I pulled out his shirt, unbuckled his belt, and reached in to encircle him with my right hand. I slid it up and down slowly, my fingertips providing just the right pressure against his member’s softer underside.

  “Oh, Babe,” Brian moaned roughly, “You’re going to have to hold off on that for a little while. I’m so turned on right now that I’ll come in a few seconds if you don’t stop.”

  “That’s OK. I bet you’ll be right back in the game as soon as those scissors close on my hair anyway.” But I stopped and helped him strip down to his boxers.

  He slid my bikini panties down my legs and picked me up as if I weighed nothing at all. He carried me outside naked through the closed curtains, then through the open balcony door, and deposited me carefully in a padded chair on the balcony. That side of the hotel overlooked a mostly deserted freeway and dark office parks. The balcony itself was private, since it had solid walls on either side, but just the idea that someone could have looked up and seen me naked got me even more turned on with anticipation than I already was. In fact, I thought I was going to hyperventilate and pass out from my heart beating overtime and my rapid breathing.

  I was both scared to death of losing my hair and incredibly turned on by everything that was happening or was about to happen.

  With the curtains closed inside, the balcony wasn't very light, but it was enough for Brian to see by. He asked me again if I were sure and I whispered, “Yes.” He still hesitated and I said something like, "you better get started before I faint." He gently pushed my head down and I could feel him grab for a piece of hair hanging onto my neck and back. He just stood there holding it so I mustered all the voice I had left and told him to "cut it off!" Just like that, he did. And he kept on cutting in the back, mostly along my neckline and up to my ears on either side. When he had a handful of hair, he put it in an ice bucket that he'd set on the floor of the balcony. All the hair eventually ended up in there and I brought it home with me.

  Brian started cutting up the back and I could feel the hair coming off and the wind blowing on the mostly empty spots on the back of my head. After he had cut it up a little past the crown, he worked on the left side above my ear, then the right side. At this point, I really only had a tuft of hair on top and in the front.

  Brian paused for a moment and I reached up and touched my newly shorn head. It felt foreign to me, as though I were touching some other part of myself for the first time. My Brian had done this to me. At that thought, I could feel the wetness between my naked legs. Brian had me stand up as he removed his boxers and sat on the chair. He pulled me down onto his lap, facing him. I was so wet he instantly slid into me, even though we weren’t that closely aligned when I climbed onto him. There we sat with me facing him and Brian hard as a rock within me. He filled me and I squirmed involuntarily with pleasure.

  Try to sit still, Love,” he said. “I want to stretch this out while I finish snipping you.”

  He tilted my head toward him and cut off the rest of my hair. All I could feel now of my once proud mane were the short, irregular tufts of hair that mostly seemed to be sticking out all over my head. The warm breeze caused the short hairs to vibrate, tickling my head with a sensation I’d never felt before. In fact, my hair had never been shorter than about eight inches since I’d been a baby.

  As Brian stood up with me still joined to him, I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carefully knelt on the balcony floor, laid me down on a bath towel, he’d placed there before he’d started clipping me, and, coupled to me all the while, lay down on top of me between my spread legs.

  Then he had me right there on the balcony; that towel was all there was between me and the hard, concrete floor. He was slow, drawing out the moments. Our lovemaking was tender and hushed. Nothing needed to be said, as everything had actually been done. He responded to me just as I hoped he would. His erection filled me even more than it usually did, because his mental pleasure at cutting my hair caused him to be so intensely enlarged. He was so aroused that I think it actually pained him – deliciously – when he came. He filled me in every way; he fulfilled me in every way and I fulfilled him.

  Chapter 2

  We lay together on the towel for a long time after we were both spent, oblivious to the hard floor of the balcony.

  When he carried me back into the room, my hair was probably no longer than about one-half inch and pretty well chopped off. I asked him if he were ready to finish it and he said, "Later. I want you to experience it like this for a while."

  When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I thought I looked terrible and started to cry, but managed to hold it back when I left the bathroom and I climbed into bed. I had done if for Brian and I would not ruin the event for him by making him feel like I regretted my decision to allow him to fulfill his fantasy. After all, he had made my life wonderful in every way. It was the least I could do for him. As a result, I went to sleep cuddled up against him looking like a refugee from a concentration camp. He did me twice again that night. The last time, I woke up about 4:00 and he was mounting me. In spite of the fact that I thought I looked terrible, I was profoundly turned on each time, and probably came twice for every time he did.

  I woke up to the rich aroma of fresh coffee about 9:00. It seemed like all my senses were amplified. It was cloudy and dark for daytime, but the colors of everything were somehow especially vivid. In the moments that I lay there, I could still feel Brian’s size within me, even though he was relaxing in a chair which faced away from me toward the balcony and the suburban expanse beyond. I stretched, not even trying to suppress a satisfied moan, and swung my feet over the side of the bed.

  “Welcome awake, Lover,” he said.

  “Mmm … I feel delicious after last nigh
t. You were soooo satisfying!”

  “Lena, you turned me on so much I thought I’d probably die from satisfaction. Do you regret the haircut”

  “”Ah … er ... it’s a little irregularly shaped at the moment.” I couldn’t lie, but I didn’t want to spoil everything either.

  “I think that’ll be fixed in a few minutes. Then you can judge the results.” He must have understood. I went in to use the bathroom, leaving the door open and not turning on the lights. I didn’t look in the mirror when I washed my hands. Brian had coffee poured for me when I stepped back into the room.

  He wouldn't let me put my clothes on but made me sit down on a chair and pulled out the electric clippers. He started right down the middle of my head and "buzzed" me all over. The bare clippers were powerful and made quick work of most of the rest of my hair. The entire process was over in a few minutes. When he was done, my hair was just a haze of short bristles. He made me look in the mirror and I have to admit that I thought it looked much better than the random chopping it had before. I actually had a cute-shaped head – that I’d never seen that way before! But it didn't look like me! It was as though I were looking out from behind someone else's eyes at a stranger’s head.