Work Text
Nejire Hado didn’t know what to do.
Her indecision didn’t leave her aimless, though. She found herself on a minimalist front porch with her hand outstretched and her fingers wrapped around a silver door knocker. The base of the knocker was styled after a rabbit, with the knocker itself dangling from the ends of a silver carrot clenched in the rabbit’s teeth. She hesitated to knock.
Nejire was dressed for the season, donning a black turtleneck and a periwinkle skirt over her black leggings. Her lavish hair flowed down her back, nearly reaching her thighs. Her hair was something she invested a lot of pride in, especially as it grew longer and longer. This pride and attachment sat at the core of her quandary.
After some mental deliberation, Nejire raised the silver door knocker and rapped on the front door three times, then let it drop from her hand. After a bit of silence, Nejire heard a groan from inside; she stared down at her shoes, daunted. Before she could second guess her decision, the door swung open. Standing opposite of her was the nation’s number 5 hero, Rumi Usagiyama, better known by her moniker, Mirko. The bunny hero held an expectant expression, not happy or mad or annoyed, but simply waiting. As with her hero costume, she wasn’t wearing much. She wore a pair of mid-rise running shorts, and a sports bra that fit well around her breasts and kept them secure; Nejire made a mental note to research the brand for her own needs.
Mirko raised an eyebrow. “Hello?”
“Hey, hey!” The wind re-entered Nejire’s sails as quickly as it had left. “Sorry if I’m interrupting anything! I’m a UA student working at Ryukyu’s agency-”
“We’ve met before, Hado,” Mirko interjected.
“I know, I just like to be courteous!” Nejire stepped forward, grabbing Mirko’s hand and shaking it firmly. “Woah, slippery! Were you working out?”
Mirko blinked the streaming sweat out of her eyes. “Yes.”
“You’re always so active, it’s super inspiring!” Nejire stepped further in the doorway, releasing Mirko’s hand and walking past her into her home. Mirko watched the girl enter, too stunned at her gall to be angry about the self-invitation. “Again, so sorry for interrupting, but I’m really torn on something and I need some help.”
Mirko shoved the front door shut. Contrary to most of the Top 10, Mirko’s lifestyle wasn’t very opulent, and nothing embodied that more than her home. Not an apartment, but not a mansion either. The ceiling and walls, made of authentic evergreen wood, reminded Nejire of some of the cabins she’d stayed in when vacationing with her friends; the only difference was that this one was located in a suburb. “What do you want?”
Nejire let out a hefty sigh. “I need advice! And depending on how that goes, I might need your help for something else.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Mirko crossed to the other end of the front hallway, passing Nejire. With a subtle nod of her head, she signaled for them to move to the next room. The invitation had Nejire glowing. She skipped down the hall to catch up; as she did so, Mirko caught herself intently watching the rise and fall of the girl’s chest. Damn, Mirko thought, she’s well endowed.
The two navigated down various hallways, up a staircase, and eventually landed in a bedroom- Mirko’s bedroom. Like the rest of her home, it wasn’t extravagant. Some hanging pictures here and there, her bed in one corner, a stationary bike in the other. A full-length mirror hung on the wall, a polaroid picture pinched between the frame and the glass.
Nejire plopped on the side of the bed; Mirko stood opposite of her, leaning against her dresser. “Alright, shoot. I’ve gotta shower sometime soon, so let’s be quick.”
“Hm?” Nejire’s wandering mind took a moment to reroute. “Right! So like I said, I work at Ryukyu’s agency, and she’s super smart and good at hero work, so I trust that she knows the right thing to do, but this new requirement in the agency rules is making me question things!”
“Okay, so what’s the requirement?” Nejire reached her hand into the pocket of her leggings and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Did she actually take the time to print it out? Nejire held the paper out; Mirko swiftly snatched it, unfolding it and scanning it. On the paper, which appeared to be a list of rules and regulations for heroes at the Ryukyu agency, a circle was drawn in blue marker around one particular rule listed towards the bottom. Mirko read the rule out loud. “For mission safety and efficiency, hair below the shoulders is not permitted. Refusal to comply with this rule may result in termination with the agency, blah blah blah. That’s what you’re worried about?”
Mirko folded the paper and flung it back to Nejire, who made no attempt to catch it. “Yeah, that’s what I’m torn about! My hair is a big part of my image as the hero Nejire-Chan, so I don’t want to cut it, but I love working with Miss Ryukyu! I’m really conflicted!”
“And what does this have to do with me?”
“There’s been a ton of headlines recently about your new look, and I was wondering if the change really makes that much of a difference!” Nejire explained, combing her fingers through her hair; it was a nervous habit, one she hadn’t been able to shake.
“My new look?”
“Yeah, how you took your long hair and, y’know…” Mirko finally put the pieces together, taking hold of a piece of her white hair; it was cut short, just past her chin, with two longer face-framing strands on either side. “Snip, snip.”
“Oh, yeah. I keep forgetting I did that.” Mirko eyed her reflection in the mirror, raising her eyebrows. “I’d say it makes a difference. Harder for criminals to grab and pin ya’ down when they have less to grab onto.”
Nejire bit her lip, uncertain. “So you’re saying I should do it?”
“Kid, I’m not saying anything but my own experience. That’s your call, not mine. If you care more about being on a team with the dragon, have fun shearing your luscious locks,” Mirko said, waving a finger at Nejire’s hair, “but you better not say I told you to, cuz I didn’t.”
Nejire stayed quiet, staring at the section of hair she was combing her fingers through. After a few seconds of contemplation, she took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled sharply. “Alright. Now that I’ve gotten your advice, I need your help with the next step.”
“Will it take long?”
“That’s up to you,” Nejire said, her tone still bubbly. She rocketed onto her feet, still as energetic as when she’d arrived. Beneath the black sweater, Nejire’s chest bounced just enough to briefly distract Mirko; she’d barely noticed that Nejire was now next to her, grabbing something off of the dresser.
In her hands, she held a pair of shiny silver scissors. “You cut your own hair, right? Can you cut mine? I don’t even know where I’d start!”
The easiest learning curve of Mirko’s career involved handling the pressure. The pressure of being relied on for safety, the pressure of being the last line of defense, the pressure of the world. Anytime she was on the job, Mirko would cut through the pressure like a knife through butter. This was different, though. She didn’t know why, but the thought of this girl relying on her to cut her hair put a pit in her stomach.
“Are you sure, Hado?”
“Yes, I’ve already decided! And call me Nejire, I’m not your superior!” Nejire thrust the scissors into Mirko’s hands, which had gotten even sweatier. “Please, Miss Mirko!”
Mirko took a deep breath, then sighed. “I’ll call you Nejire if you call me Rumi. Now,” Mirko stepped away, into a side closet, and pulled out a wooden stool, dragging it along the hardwood. “Take a seat, I’ll try not to fuck it up.”
“Oh my gosh, thank you so much!” Nejire leaped forward, wrapping her arms around Mirko; she didn’t seem to mind the sweat. Lost on how to respond, Mirko gently pat Nejire on the back. As she did so, a realization hit regarding what she felt- or rather, what she didn’t feel. Under Nejire’s sweater, Mirko didn’t feel any kind of bra strap. Bold, she thought.
Nejire let go and made her way to the stool, positioned in front of the mirror. Now that she was closer, she could make out what the polaroid picture was showing; it was a picture of Hawks, dressed in his iconic jacket, but with a hairstyle Nejire had never seen him have before, with one side shaved and the rest flowing to the other side. They must be close, Nejire thought, he even let her cut his hair!
Nejire turned to look at Mirko, who was readying her tools- the scissors and a brush. “Hey, do you have any capes?”
“Like, hero costume capes?”
“Hair-stylist capes!”
“Oh,” Mirko muttered, “no, I don’t. Worried about getting hair on your outfit?”
“Yeah. If the clippings get on this fabric, they’ll never get out!”
Mirko nodded, her back to Nejire. She kept eyeing a set of electric clippers, debating on adding it to her toolkit, but ultimately decided it wasn’t needed. “Yeah, sorry, I don’t own any capes. When I cut my hair, I just take my outfit off.”
“Ohh, that’s a good idea!” Nejire said.
Mirko chuckled at the praise. She picked up her utensils and turned back to Nejire. “Yep. One of the pros of privacy-”
Mirko stopped in her tracks, barely finishing her sentence before processing what her eyes were showing her. In front of the stool, facing the mirror, Nejire stood with her arms above her head, pulling the bottom of her sweater up. As she raised the sweater above her head, her boobs fell away from the fabric, bouncing around until they found a position to rest in. Nejire’s chest was even better than the sweater had teased; her boobs were round, plump, more than what could be grabbed with just one hand, and inviting like no other breasts that Mirko had seen before. The areolas of Nejire’s boobs were just a few shades pinker than her skin, as were her nipples, dormant and unstimulated.
To Mirko, the incomprehensible moment lasted decades, even centuries, and yet by the time it registered, the sweater had already been thrown on the bed, and Nejire was already unhooking the clasp on her skirt.
“Woah, Nejire, wait-” Mirko tried to will her hand in front of her eyes, but her arms stayed at her sides. “What are you doing?!”
Nejire glanced at Mirko, seemingly unbothered. “You had a great idea! I’ll just take off my outfit during the haircut, and put it back on afterwards!” Nejire noticed the look of shock that had warped Mirko’s expression. “If that’s okay, of course! Are you comfortable with that?”
As she asked, Nejire turned to face Mirko with her whole body. Nejire’s boobs swayed with the turn, rocking back and forth, a pair of hypnotizing pendulums. Mirko’s sideview had upgraded to a complete frontal; she couldn’t help but find herself lost in the moment. Fuck… I wanna squeeze those so bad… I can’t say no.
“Yeah, that’s… that’s comfortable with me.” The saliva pooling in Mirko’s mouth proved to be a hindrance to her cool demeanor. She swallowed her spit and continued forward. Nejire continued to undress before Mirko’s eyes. It started with unclipping the skirt, which was flung onto the bed, then kicking off the shoes, then socks. Nejire gripped the waistband of her leggings and pulled them down without a hint of shame or shyness. Mirko didn’t even attempt to avert her gaze; if Nejire wasn’t trying to hide her undressing, Mirko wasn’t going to try avoiding it. She savored it. She savored the volume of Nejire’s curves, the perfect balance of muscle and fat that made up her calves and thighs, the roundness of her ass that managed to be both cute and alluring. Thank god she invited herself in, Mirko’s mind buzzed. She marveled at how much stimulation she was receiving from her eyes alone.
As Nejire stood topless in her underwear, tossing her leggings onto the bed, Mirko became aware of a previously subconscious expectation: She’ll keep her underwear on, right? It hadn’t occurred to her that the notion could be wrong, and so when Nejire took hold of her panties and began working them down her legs, Mirko’s widened eyes reflected her shock. Nejire tossed the panties onto the bed. Mirko continued to stare. She memorized every detail she could, praying the moment would last forever, or even just long enough to live a lifetime within. Her eyes were hooked where Nejire’s panties had been covering; between her legs was a well-groomed bush of periwinkle pubic hair. As with the hair on Nejire’s head, her pubic hair was also long and dense. An itch plagued Mirko- she couldn’t tell if it was coming from underneath her skin or within her own brain- an itch that begged her to run her fingers through the hair on Hado’s pussy, feel its softness, see if it matched up to the gorgeous locks of hair that danced around her bare shoulders and hips.
Her hair, Mirko remembered. Her trance was subdued; it no longer choked the air from her throat, but it kept its fingers around her neck. She wants her gorgeous hair chopped. Through the chaos of her own rampant thoughts, Mirko hadn’t noticed that Nejire was staring back at her, a blush adorning her cheeks. She took her seat on the stool, flipping her curtains of hair behind her shoulders. She bent her knees and parted her legs to allow her heels to sit on the bar stool’s footrest. In the mirror’s reflection, Nejire sat with her full front exposed without a hint of embarrassment or discomfort. Her back was entirely concealed by her hair, all the way past her butt and the seat.
Mirko stood in awe. “You’re…” Gorgeous. Beautiful. Cute. Sexy. Hot. Perfect.
“Yeah, I’m sure!” Nejire finished the sentence for her with a smile. “Life is all about taking risks and making changes! I’m sure you felt the same before you cut your hair!”
Not exactly, Mirko thought. To her, it was a tactical decision. There was no emotional investment, it was just hair. With Nejire, it was so much more than that. It was the pinochle- no, the incarnation of feminine elegance and allure and beauty itself. It was the bow on a present that wrapped it all together.
Maybe that wasn’t how it was with Nejire, though. Maybe that was just how Mirko felt.
Mirko set the scissors on the dresser and began brushing through the waterfall of hair that flowed from Nejire’s scalp. Feeling Nejire’s hair in her hands was like running her fingers through silk that only got softer the more Mirko brushed it. The motions became nearly addictive. After two full passes through each section, Mirko set the brush down.
As Mirko reached for the scissors, Nejire exclaimed excitedly. “Oh! Do you think we can take before and after pics? Sorry to add more to the process!” Before Mirko could answer, Nejire reached over to the bed and snatched her phone, opening up the camera app and handing it back to Mirko. “Take a picture of the back, and then I’ll take one of the front!”
“O-okay.” Mirko did as she was told, taking a snapshot of the back of Nejire’s hair. It looked as gorgeous in the picture as it did in real life, but nothing beat being there in the moment. Mirko handed the phone back to Nejire, who pointed the camera to the mirror. Instinctively, Mirko stepped out of frame, but in turn, Nejire paused.
“C’mon, you gotta get in here too!” Nejire reached back and took hold of Mirko’s wrist. The simple touch shouldn’t have felt as intimate as it did. Once Mirko was back in-frame, standing over Nejire’s shoulder, Nejire held up a peace-sign with her other hand. Just before she snapped the picture, Mirko smiled; not the smile she donned during perilous battles against criminals, no, this was a warm smile that she didn’t consciously make. Once the picture was taken, showing each and every one of Nejire’s intimate areas, it was back on schedule. Nejire tossed her phone back on the bed and stared straight ahead. “Alrighty, I’m ready when you are, Rumi!”
Is there anything more intimate than a name? Mirko grabbed the scissors from atop the dresser. To the strongest woman in the country, they felt heavy. She reached out and grouped together a handful of Nejire’s hair, caressing the strands between her thumb and palm. “How short do you wanna go?”
“Mmm… maybe about here?” Nejire drew a line in the air an inch or so below her chin. Mirko nodded and readjusted her grip to align with the desired length. She took a deep breath and raised the scissors, parting the blades and pressing them against Nejire’s silky tresses.
Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Mirko forced the scissors open and closed repeatedly. The blades sawed through Nejire’s hair with ease. From the stool, Nejire’s heartbeat threatened to burst out of her chest. With each slice of the scissors, she couldn’t tell if she was growing nervous or excited. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Shnk! The scissors closed, having cut through every hair in the grouping. Mirko separated the chopped hair from the rest, holding it off to Nejire’s side for her to see. Nejire gasped, turning to take it from Mirko.
“Oh my god, that’s crazy!” Nejire stroked the severed hair, chuckling. Once her amusement had subsided, she handed it back to Mirko, who didn’t know what to do with it. What was there to do with the cut hair of the woman she was absolutely entranced by? Maintaining a sense of subtlety with the use of her heightened senses, she sniffed the hair in search of an aroma; it smelled of vanilla. Mirko smiled, letting the hair slip through her fingers and fall to the floor in a small puddle of blue. Nejire watched the dozens of inches of hair fall and let out a chuckle. “No going back now! I hope it’ll look good!”
Mirko grouped another section of Nejire’s hair and continued cutting. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. “Of course you’ll look good,” Mirko murmured. Instead of keeping a tight grip on the grouped hair like last time, Mirko kept her hold loose, allowing the cut strands to shower to the floor, enlarging the puddle of hair on the hardwood.
“Right, right! You’re really talented and confident in your skills! It’s honestly a relief,” Nejire confessed. Mirko made the last snip of the section, leaving the lone bunch of hair to float down to the others like a feather. Her heart beat just a little faster. Why is this exciting me? Am I sadistic for enjoying this? Mirko dismissed her thoughts, ruffling Nejire’s hair with a chuckle. The uncut portions danced around her nude figure; the cut portions flung tiny hair clippings into the air. “Mmm… your hands feel so nice, Rumi.”
Mirko looked at the mirror. Nejire’s eyes were closed, a smile on her face. Despite the looming distraction of Nejire’s frontal nudity, Mirko noticed something in her reflection. Her gaze whipped down to her sports bra and shorts; they were covered in small periwinkle hair clippings. Her brow contorted with frustration.
“Oh, dammit!” Mirko swatted at her clothes, trying desperately to rid herself of the clippings. Nejire opened her eyes, saw the predicament in the mirror, and spun around on the stool. Watching Nejire’s hair sway back and forth with two huge chunks missing from the back eased Mirko’s frustration, and almost made her giggle. Nejire, however, suddenly looked mortified.
“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to get my hair clippings on you!” Nejire joined Mirko in pawing at the clippings. The sudden repeated touching lit a firework in Mirko’s chest that Nejire might’ve even felt on the other side of the sports bra. Nejire worked her hands down to Mirko’s shorts, continuing to try to brush the clippings away to no avail. “I’m really sorry, Rumi! I’ll do whatever I can to get your clothes hair-free, I promise!”
“No, it’s fine, it’s…” Mirko ceased her efforts, letting her arms fall to her side. Nejire’s efforts slowed, but her hands remained on Mirko’s shorts. Mirko brought her gaze to Nejire, confused.
“I’ll fix it. For now, though…” Nejire’s voice trailed off. Her fingers inched up to the waistband of the shorts and wormed their way between them and Mirko’s hips. She gripped the waistband tightly. “...how about we just take them off?”
Mirko’s heart beat as violent as a drum in her throat. She couldn’t say anything. Her breathing was panicked; she must’ve looked asthmatic. Nejire waited for an objection that didn’t and would never come, and then proceeded, slowly pulling the waistband of the shorts, as well as Mirko’s underwear, over each hip and down her thighs. Once they’d reached her calves, Nejire let them fall to the floor. Mirko stood bottomless in front of Nejire, her fluffy white pubic hair resting just below Nejire’s eye level. She hadn’t shaved her vagina in months… she couldn’t tell if that was a mistake or not. She was too distracted. Mirko prayed that the rhythmic pulsing she felt around her clitoris wasn’t visible.
Nejire planted her hands on Mirko’s hips, softly caressing them with a smile and a blush. “Halfway there.”
“I…” Mirko searched desperately for the words, but nothing made sense. She couldn’t untangle a string of words coherent enough to convey how she felt. Nejire looked up, meeting Mirko’s eyes with her own. The scissors tumbled from her hands, plunging into the stream of Nejire’s cut hair.
Mirko lunged forward, grabbing the back of Nejire’s head, and kissed her.
The kiss could’ve only lasted a second or two, and yet Mirko was acutely aware of every detail of it. She felt her fingers on the back of Nejire’s head, rubbing against long and cropped hair at the same time. She felt her other hand latch onto Nejire’s shoulder, rubbing her collarbone with an intimacy she’d never expressed before. Mirko felt Nejire’s boob press up against her abs, felt how soft they were, how cloud-like they were against her skin. She felt how there wasn’t a single tense muscle in Nejire’s body that objected to Mirko’s advance, and yet Mirko questioned if that was just because she had the element of surprise.
And then the kiss was over. Mirko pulled away, panting. Nejire stared back at her, awestruck. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was,” Mirko fumbled, “we can pretend-”
Before she could even think of the words, Nejire sprung from the stool, pressing her whole body against Mirko’s, and kissing her back. Mirko’s widened eyes slipped shut as the two’s kiss evolved from a simple smooch to an all-enveloping makeout. Their lips bounced against each other, any uncertainty dissipating. Light moans escaped into the air as their tongues twirled together in a dance teeming with the sweet taste of each other’s saliva. Nejire held the side of Mirko’s head with one hand, scratching at one of her fluffy rabbit ears, and allowed her other hand to slide down Mirko’s back until she had a handful of firm ass. Mirko’s heart fluttered at Nejire’s squeeze.
Against her better judgment, Mirko pulled her head back, untangling their tongues and separating their lips. Nejire’s expression became puzzled. “How long were you sending signals?” Mirko asked her.
“Rumi, I stripped in front of you,” Nejire noted cheerfully. Mirko cringed at her own obliviousness. Dumbass.
“That… makes sense,” Mirko broke the eye contact, almost ashamed. “In my defense, I couldn’t tell if you were just weird or socially airheaded or something!”
Nejire scoffed. “Hey,” she said, acting offended. Mirko flinched at another sudden squeeze of her ass, this one much less gentle than the first. Their gazes reconnected. “There’s a difference between being perky and being airheaded. I’m not stupid.” Nejire released her grip on Mirko’s ass, running her fingers along Rumi’s chiseled muscles and arriving at her front side. With gentle tact, she combed her fingers through the bush of white pubic hair, down further, and began tracing her middle and forefinger up and down the slit of Mirko’s vagina. She licked her lips, aroused by the wetness on her fingers. “I like that you’re pushing past the shy act. It’s so much better when they’re loud.”
A moan involuntarily left Mirko’s lips as Nejire began rubbing her fingers over her clit. She was certain Nejire could feel it throbbing. Among the wild storm of thoughts and feelings, a concern crossed Mirko’s mind. “You didn’t do this whole haircut thing just for this, right?”
“Hm?” The haircut seemed to have slipped Nejire’s mind. “Oh, of course not! I want to cut it, and I want you! It’s a two-for-one deal!” Nejire leaned in, kissing the side of Mirko’s neck, then whispered in her ear. “I want you to chop my hair off and put me in my place, Rumi. Punish me while I make you feel good.”
Despite carrying the volume of a whisper, the request boomed like a siren in Mirko’s ear. Almost instinctively, Mirko gripped the seams of her sports bra and yanked it over her head, freeing her breasts and leaving herself completely bare. The sports bra had been impressively deceitful; Mirko’s boobs, although smaller than Nejire’s, were still hefty and enough to spill over in her hands. Nejire smiled, a blush warming her cheeks. Mirko returned a vicarious grin. “Damn right!”
The two collided once again, as if magnetically. The two joined in a fury of groping, grabbing, kissing, and grinding. Mirko seized one of Nejire’s boobs in her hand, squeezing it repeatedly, rubbing her thumb over her nipple, and with her other hand, grabbing Nejire by the hair. Nejire continued stroking Mirko’s clit, placing her other hand on Rumi’s shoulder and guiding her to the edge of the bed. On her knees, Nejire advanced forward until Mirko was flat on her back, planting her lips over one of Rumi’s dark nipples, sucking and nibbling. Mirko didn’t attempt to subdue her moan.
After a few licks, Nejire raised her head. Reaching back towards the ground, Nejire grabbed the scissors off the floor and thrust them into Mirko’s hands once again. Nejire, hovering inches above Rumi’s face, swooped in for a quick but passionate kiss, and then began retreating lower. As she sank, she left a trail of kisses along Rumi’s body, starting at her lips, working down her neck, to her boobs, further down to her abs, then along her inner thigh. The two heroines locked eyes. “Shear me.”
A sharp, overwhelming pleasure radiating between Mirko’s legs made her sit straight up. Stroke after stroke of Nejire’s tongue on her clit filled her with a rejuvenating warmth that threatened to melt her from the inside out. Mirko reached forward and grabbed a handful of Nejire’s lengthy blue locks and pressed the open scissors in position. As the stimulation fired through her body, Mirko clenched the scissors shut. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. In rhythm with Nejire’s licks, Mirko maneuvered the blades back and forth, chopping through the thick selection of periwinkle hair. Shnk! The last cut sprayed tiny hair clippings down Nejire’s back. Mirko held the severed hair up for Nejire to see; although it didn’t distract her, she let herself moan. Reaching back between her own legs, Nejire began rubbing her fingers along and within her pussy. Mirko took a whiff of the hair, savoring the scent of vanilla, then sprinkled the hair over her chest. Bunches of blue strands covered her boobs, hung from her erect nipples, draped over her thighs. “Oh, yeah,” Nejire moaned, still tongue-deep in Rumi’s cunt, “chop it!”
Mirko grabbed more of Nejire’s hair; nearly half of it was cut short by now. Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Mirko chopped away. Slrp. Slrp. Slrp. Nejire licked away, flattening her tongue and pushing against Rumi’s clit with ample force; she relished the sticky juices leaking onto her lips, periodically swallowing what she could of it. Another swift series of snips severed the small ponytail’s worth of hair, and as with the previous one, Mirko sprawled the hair over her body like a blanket. Biting her lip, she clenched one of her breasts and clumps of chopped hair with it. Nejire’s pace quickened and Mirko squeezed her boob harder. “Fuck, that’s it! Faster!”
Without using her other hand as a guide, Mirko began snipping carelessly at the remains of Nejire’s long hair. With each snip, the hair would waft to the floor and join the ever-growing pile around Nejire’s knees. No matter how chaotic the cutting got, Nejire never stopped or interfered. If anything, she only went harder, licking and probing every inch of the inside of Rumi’s pussy. Her fingers glided in and out of her own faster and faster.
As the stimulation began nearing its climax, so did Mirko. The muscles in her thighs began to seize and contract around Nejire’s neck; her hips and pelvis thrust into the air. Mirko reached forward, grabbing and pulling at Nejire’s hair with an iron grip. Cries of ecstasy echoed like a war horn around the room, signaling to Nejire that it was time to slow the advance of strokes against Mirko’s throbbing clit. She slowly lowered the pace, and as she did, Mirko lowered her hips and freed Nejire from her legs’ chokehold, panting. As Nejire opened her eyes and gazed up at Mirko, she continued taking savory licks, ingesting the new release of juices. Mirko flinched ever-so-slightly at the gentle passes of Nejire’s tongue.
“You… you’re way too good at that,” Mirko panted. She let her arms fall to the bed. Nejire stood and climbed onto the bed next to her, tracing her finger along Mirko’s body as she did so. The two lay side by side. With her tracing finger, Nejire let her touch run into the valley between Mirko’s legs and over her pussy, swirling in absentminded circles.
“You’re really wet,” Nejire said, using her other hand to pick up and sprinkle the hair clippings covering Mirko’s chest. “Did you enjoy that?”
Mirko turned her head slowly, stumped on whether Nejire was joking or genuinely asking. “I came, Nejire.”
“Oh, perf!” Nejire retracted her finger from between Mirko’s legs and licked it clean like it was chocolate from a melted candy bar. I guess she was genuinely asking.
“You’re kinda freaky,” Mirko chuckled. “I think I like it.”
“Good,” Nejire smiled, then held up the last remaining section of long hair she had, “because we still have to take care of this.”
“Yeah, once I regain the feeling in my legs, I’ll get to it.”
“C’mon,” Nejire laughed, jumping up from the bed. She extended a hand and helped Mirko onto her feet, albeit with a slight wobble. Nejire planted herself back on the stool, with Mirko resuming her position behind her.
The two looked at themselves in the mirror. Though neither of them said it out loud, they both felt a sense of correctness when seeing their reflections stare back. The heroines, together, smiling, nude, holding nothing back. It felt right. Nejire pulled her phone off the bed once again. “Wanna take an ‘in-progress’ picture?”
“Of course I do!” While Nejire held the phone out in front of them, attempting to find a good angle, Mirko took hold of the last of the long hair in one hand, holding the scissors in the other. Once the picture was framed up, Nejire snapped the photo. The two were smiling. Mirko had leaned over Nejire’s shoulder, her boob pressing into it. Both of them were fully exposed, yet they couldn’t be bothered. “Now let’s wrap this up! I think we both need a shower after that.”
“Are you offering?” Nejire asked with a smirk. Mirko combed her fingers through the long hair, readying the scissors.
“Well, you didn’t finish, did you? We have unfinished business.” Shhk. Shhk. Shhk. Shnk! After a few snips, the last section of Nejire’s long hair was severed, hanging from Mirko’s fingers. Nejire’s hair was now uniform and cropped short, resting just below her chin. Despite the chaotic circumstances of the haircut, the end result was surprisingly professional. Nejire admired her reflection, her eyes glowing. “Well? Missing your mane yet?”
“Nope! My head feels so light now!” Nejire launched from the stool and onto her feet, lunging to ensnare Mirko in a tight hug. “Thanks so much, Rumi, it’s perfect!”
As Mirko reciprocated the hug, Nejire leaned in for a kiss. The two shared the sweet peck before releasing their hug. Nejire chuckled to herself; Mirko raised an eyebrow. “You did such a good job! I don’t have any money with me, though… how can I repay you?”
Mirko snickered, then pointed to a nearby door. “The shower is in there. How about we have some fun?”
“Sounds fantastic,” Nejire leaned in for another kiss, surprising Mirko with a bit of tongue. “I’ll get the water running!”
Nejire skipped off into the bathroom; Mirko didn’t hide the pleasure she received watching the sway of Nejire’s ass when she walked. The bunny hero trailed close behind until an item on her counter caught her attention: the clippers. They had no guard on and had no cord. Something about it made Mirko’s mind stir. Her eyes fell to her white pubic hair, and the mental image of Nejire’s own bushy pubes crossed her mind. The idea came together soon after; she grabbed the clippers off the counter, then followed Nejire into the bathroom.
The cacophony of falling water transformed into a melody wafting throughout the room. The bathroom itself was more bougie compared to the rest of Mirko’s house; that and her workout room, the two places in her house she’d be spending the most conscious time in. Off to one side was a large tub with water jets built into the bottom. On the other side was the shower, and Nejire standing in front of it, facing the open curtain. Then, next to the shower was the toilet; it was a toilet.
Mirko held the clippers behind her back as she approached. “Figured it out?”
“You should give me more credit! Turning on a shower isn’t rocket science!” Nejire turned to face Mirko. No matter how many times she saw Nejire’s body, she never got used to how stunning it was. In the moment, the apple of Mirko’s eye was Nejire’s hairy pussy. Her vagina itself was nearly buried underneath all the hair; despite that, past the point where her crotch met her legs, there was nothing but smooth skin.
Mirko closed the distance between them, giving Nejire a kiss on the cheek. “Sit. I’m gonna start the fun.”
Nejire smirked, gracefully gliding her hand between Mirko’s legs and along her lips. Then, she pulled away, moving to sit on the toilet. “You’re already having fun.”
“And soon we’re both going to be having the time of our lives.” Nejire sat on the closed lid of the toilet and slowly opened her legs. Mirko kneeled in front of her and combed her fingers through the dense pubic hair. It was nearly as soft as the hair on Nejire’s head, but a little grittier and less conditioned. “Close your eyes.”
Nejire did as she was told. Although the plan in Mirko’s mind was begging to be let loose, she managed to show restraint. Instead, she leaned her head in and sunk into the folds of Nejire’s furry box. Mirko took long, deep licks, getting as much as she could as far as she could get. The hairs tickled Mirko’s face; she loved how it felt when she brushed her cheeks against them. Mirko couldn’t tell what it tasted like, but she couldn’t bring herself to care much. It might as well have tasted like chocolate strawberries because she was enjoying every second of it. Nejire was too; light moans escaped her naked lips as she craned her head back with pleasure. Mirko got one last tasteful lick in, then rested her head on Nejire’s inner thigh.
“Ryukyu’s policy said that any hair below the shoulders wasn’t permitted, right?” Mirko asked. Nejire’s expression scrunched, confused, but her eyes remained closed.
“Yeah?”
“And you’re willing to work with that policy?”
“Duh,” Nejire chuckled.
“Perfect, just checking,” Mirko brought the clippers out from behind her back, “then let’s have some fun.”
Mirko positioned the clippers’ blades at the top of Nejire’s bush, right in the middle, then flicked on the power switch. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz… Nejire stirred, but before she could open her eyes and intervene, Mirko ran the clippers down the center of Nejire’s dense pubes. The blades tore through the hair at the base, leaving a slight stubble in the wake of the shave. By the time Nejire’s eyes had opened and she’d gasped with surprise, Mirko had shaved a line all the way down to her lips.
“Rumi! What are you doing?!” Nejire swatted Mirko’s hands away from her crotch while Mirko giggled. She flicked the clippers off.
“Helping you follow the policy. Exciting, isn’t it?” Nejire plucked the severed hairs off of the toilet lid, rubbing them between her fingers until they fell back between her legs. “Doesn’t it turn you on?”
Nejire gave Mirko a mischievous smile, shoving her lightly. “You’re such a dick! Now we have to shave it all!”
“That’s the idea,” Mirko smiled, turning the clippers back on again. She waited eagerly for Nejire to open her legs once again. After a moment, she spread her legs with a sigh and a smile.
“I’m going to shave yours right after, you know,” Nejire chuckled, avoiding eye contact.
“You have to touch my pussy again, what a nightmare,” Mirko said, dry and sarcastic. She lined the clippers up once again and began shaving the next line. Pass after pass of the clippers revealed more of Nejire’s pale vagina. Her periwinkle pubes began piling up between her legs, and by the time all of it had been shaved, it was enough to fill a sandwich bag. Once the job was done, Mirko clicked the clippers off, running her fingers over Nejire’s freshly shaved privates. “I think you were hiding under all that hair. I’ve never seen you this… pure.”
Nejire reached a hand out and cupped Mirko’s cheek. “It’s not because I cut my hair.”
The two shared a smile. No matter how hot and heavy it got between them, there was still that innocent foundation of admiration and love.
Nejire plucked the clippers from Mirko’s hands before sliding off the toilet lid and onto the floor; the pile of shaved pubes scattered everywhere. “Your turn.”
Mirko lowered herself onto her back and spread her legs as wide as she could. As Mirko had done, Nejire swooped in for a few last licks, revving the engine of Mirko’s libido once again. Once she was satisfied, Nejire placed the clippers at the top of Mirko’s bush and mercilessly buzzed through the dense, white hairs. Not soon after, all that remained of the bush was a stubble, and Mirko saw her bare pussy for the first time in months. Likewise, Nejire saw Mirko’s bare pussy for the first time ever; she was captivated, running her fingers up and down the lips. Despite her enjoyment, Mirko reached a hand out and stopped Nejire. “Don’t forget, you didn’t finish. You’re the one who’s getting their rocks off this time.”
Mirko pulled the two of them to their feet and into the shower. The water was just warm enough; not scalding, but a comforting warmth that made for a fine liquid blanket. Soon, the two heroines were drenched, their short hair flat and sticking to their necks. Streams of water dripped from their boobs and ran down into the crevasses between their legs. All of the hair clippings that had stuck to their bodies before now began swirling down the drain. Mirko and Nejire faced each other, staring into each other’s eyes.
In that moment, looking like supermodels caught in a hurricane, the two had never thought of each other as that beautiful. Nejire was the peak of natural beauty to Mirko, and Mirko was Aphrodite and Athena’s love child to Nejire. The two, with water pouring down on them, were undeniably in love with each other.
Without wasting another second, Mirko and Nejire embraced in a tight hug and a passionate kiss. Their arms grappled around each other, their chests pressing against one another’s. The shower’s water mixed into the saliva they shared as their tongues intertwined. Mirko pivoted her foot and pressed Nejire against the shower wall, pinning her there as they continued to kiss. With one hand, she cupped Nejire’s head, and with the other, she slid her fingers down between Nejire’s legs and began rubbing her clit.
Between gasps for air, Nejire started to moan. She clenched Mirko’s ass with one hand and squeezed one of Mirko’s boobs with the other, rubbing her thumb over the heroine’s dark nipple. As the rubbing escalated to fingering, her moans only got louder. As she’d expected, Mirko’s penetration was forceful and bold, but never to the point of unwanted pain or discomfort. Every time Mirko’s fingers slid in and out, Nejire reveled in the stimulation over again. “Fuck, Rumi,” she moaned, “I…”
Mirko pounded her fingers in faster. “You what?”
Nejire reeled back, her legs beginning to shake slightly. “I love… oh God…”
Once again, Mirko cranked up the intensity. Nejire grabbed at Mirko’s back, nearly clawing into it. “Who do you love?”
“I… I love you… Rumi…” Nejire moaned. Mirko smiled and gave Nejire a kiss.
“Good girl.” A new wetness began to coat Mirko’s fingers as she reached her max speed. The instinct to suppress her moan vanished and Nejire let out a pleasured cry. Her nails dug into Mirko’s back, tearing at her skin as her legs gave out on her. Before she could fall to the shower floor, Mirko ducked, scooping her into her arms before gently setting her down. Nejire’s breaths were heavy. “You good?”
Nejire looked to Mirko, then laughed. “Better than good. I don’t know if I can feel my legs.”
Mirko took a seat next to Nejire, the water still showering down on them. Nejire rested her head on Mirko’s shoulder, her breathing slowly returning to a steady pace. After shifting around a bit, Mirko wrapped her arms around Nejire, allowing her to rest in her lap. The two remained silent for a minute, unsure of what to say.
“Was this just a heat-of-the-moment thing?” Mirko asked after some time.
“I don’t think so,” Nejire answered, “I’m really happy we did this, and it’d make me really happy if we continued doing it.”
Mirko smiled and kissed Nejire on the back of the neck. “I can find your neck now.”
“Be serious,” Nejire laughed.
“Fine, fine.” Mirko rested her chin on Nejire’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around her. “I’m happy too. I don’t usually get to have sparks like this, so…”
Nejire gently caressed Mirko’s hand. “So?”
Mirko smiled. “You’re pretty damn cool, and if you’re up for it, I’d love to keep this up.”
Nejire closed her eyes, smiling as well. The two had never felt safer than in each other’s arms, and for that reason, the next steps were a no-brainer.
“Of course I’m up for it!”
Mirko and Nejire relaxed, nuzzling into each other’s warm embraces. No matter what mess awaited them outside that room, it would be fine. No mess was too much to salvage for them. They were happier than ever, no longer on their own, but together. Together in romance, in intimacy, in battle, and in peace.