by J. Lea
“I kind of figured that. What is it? You can trust me.”
“I’ve heard that before, and it didn’t turn out well.”
“Whoever that was, was a jerk who didn’t deserve you.” He cupped my face lovingly, and I couldn’t help myself but to lean into his touch, and enjoy his closeness. I sniffed. Then I took a step back, straightened, and took a deep breath. My eyes locked onto his. I reached my hand to the back of my neck. “Here goes nothing.” I hesitated for a brief second, and then I slowly and carefully removed my hair system with my eyes closed. I heard his sharp intake of breath. There was deafening silence in the room, and I didn’t dare open my eyes. I was afraid to see what he’d think about me now that he knew I was far from perfect.
“Oh, God,” he exclaimed. I opened my eyes and saw his back was to me. I quickly put the hair system back in place.
“I’m not perfect, and I never will be. This is the real me whether you like it or not.” He didn’t say anything for a long minute, and I let him take the new information in and think it over. He looked at me with such pain in his eyes, I thought I was going to collapse on the spot. “I’m sorry I hid it from you. I better go.” I was prepared for this kind of reaction, but it still hurt. I didn’t have the right to be angry with him because I was the one who kept things from him and messed everything up.
I ran past him, but before I could reach the front door, his strong arms on my wrists stopped me. I looked down to my hands, and then into his eyes. “What are you doing? Let me go so I can go home.” I was on the verge of tears. I just wanted to get out of his sight.
He begged me quietly, “Why are you running away from me? Don’t leave, please.”
“Why not?” I exclaimed, embarrassed. “You can’t even look me in the eyes.”
“No! That’s not true.” He raised his voice, but his face softened. “You’re reading my reaction wrong. It’s just a shock for me. Please, don’t go.”
“I understand. I’m used to such reactions. It’s exactly why I don’t tell my secret to just anyone. Actually, it’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone see me like that.”
“Please, stay. Ca- can you tell me what this is? I’m so confused. Are you sick?” His hold on my wrist lessened, but he still held me.
“Yes and no,” I said.
“Do you have…Christ, I can’t even say it. Do you have cancer? Is that why you’re wearing a wig? You’re not dying, are you?” I quickly shook my head to calm him. I didn’t expect this question.
“No, I’m not dying, and I don’t have cancer. I have alopecia.”
“Alopecia? What is this? I’ve never heard of it before.”
“Hm, how should I explain it… Alopecia is an autoimmune disease. It’s when your hair starts falling out, usually in bald patches, because your immune system perceives hair as a foreign body, and starts attacking hair follicles. There are many factors that contribute to it, and, in my case, it was most likely stress. At least that’s what my doctors said. It’s not lethal, it just means you lose your hair.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. I could practically see the wheels in his head turning, processing the information I’d given him. “So you’re not dying. That’s good to hear.” He led me by the hand to the couch, and tugged at my sleeve so I’d sit down in his lap.
“You sure?”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Sit down already,” he said, trying to sound authoritative, but the tone of his voice was too soft. He pulled me onto his lap, so I was sitting sideways, and I wrapped one arm around his shoulders.
“So, you aren’t disgusted by me?”
“Why would you be disgusting?”
“Because I’m not who I appear to be on the outside. I’m not…beautiful.”
“To me, you’re gorgeous, with or without hair. I don’t care about that. I like you because of you, who you are as a person. I fell in love with this person. That hasn’t changed.” Another tear rolled down my cheek.
“Really?” I breathed.
“Really,” he said with a gentle smile.
I kissed him, deeply and passionately. I held nothing back, not even the tears. A huge rock fell off my chest, and I could breathe easily again. I needed this. I needed someone to tell me I’m beautiful no matter what. And the feeling was phenomenal. I shifted in his arms so I was straddling him. “Thank you,” I said in between kisses. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” I ran my hand through his hair. “You’re the first person whose first question wasn’t if my disease was contagious. If you only knew how many times I’ve heard that. And every time, I was humiliated and hurt.”
He placed a finger over my lips. “Shh, you don’t have to be embarrassed about it. That didn’t even occur to me. You’re still the same Lori as before. I’m just glad it’s not something worse.”
“Isn’t this bad enough?”
He wrapped his hands around my shoulders. “You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, I do. It’s not a deadly disease. It’s just incredibly annoying,” I sighed.
“Can you tell me more about it?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Earlier, you said stress is one of the causes for alopecia. Were you under a lot of stress?” I turned my head to the side so I could gain a few seconds to think about what to say.
“Yes, you could say that. Before, I had beautiful, thick hair. But then one day, while I was washing my hair, I discovered two bald spots. At first, I thought I was just imagining things, but when I looked in the mirror, they were still there. If you only knew how panicked I was. I didn’t know what was happening to me or why it was happening. My parents didn’t know either, and we went to see the doctor, who referred us to the dermatologist. They took my blood samples and ran some tests. Soon after, the diagnosis came. They told me I have alopecia areata, which soon progressed into alopecia universalis.”
“There are more variations of the disease?”
“Yes. Alopecia areata means hair falling out in patches, causing bald spots. Alopecia totalis is when you lose all your head hair, and alopecia universalis… Well, I can tell you I don’t need to shave anywhere.”
“Wow, okay. So that’s why your skin is so silky smooth,” he smirked at me. I playfully nudged him in the shoulder.
“Men,” I rolled my eyes.
“What? I like your smooth skin. You’re incredibly sexy to me.”
I smiled, and continued. “Well, I guess there’s one positive thing in all of this – I save a lot on shaving products,” I joked. “When I received the diagnosis, I was so shocked. The doctor prescribed some lotions and ointments, but they didn’t help. My hair kept falling out. One morning, when I went to brush my hair, a fistful of hair remained on my brush, and there was a bald spot on my scalp, as big as a fist. The next day, I woke up bald. It was terrible. I begged my mom to let me stay at home that day. How could I go to school looking like I did? A few days later, I had no choice but to return to school and face people. My whole world collapsed on itself. When I had only a few bald patches, I could handle it as I covered them with ponytails and baseball hats. But, when all my hair was gone, I couldn’t hide underneath hats anymore. I’ll never forget the first day back in school. I remember like it happened yesterday. All my classmates pointed their fingers at me, and teachers felt sorry for me. Whispering behind my back was the worst. They thought I couldn’t hear what they said. Boy, were they wrong. That day, it was the first time I heard a classmate say he didn’t dare come close to me because he was afraid he might catch something. I felt like I had the plague. Even though I kept reassuring them it wasn’t contagious, that I was still the same person like before my hair fell out, they didn’t believe me. Everybody avoided me. Even my best friend deserted me. And so I had nobody. Elias was the only one that stuck by my side, but he was hundreds of miles away, and I almost never saw him. It was hard for me. It affected my self-confidence, and, in the end, I saw myself like others saw me—as a freak. How could I not? I didn’t k
now anyone with the same condition. I was in it alone. My parents and my brother were there for me the whole time, but they didn’t experience what I went through, so they couldn’t really relate. It was like the worst nightmare coming to life.”
Parker stroked my hair gently, and studied my face. “Can you take off your wig again? I’d like to see you once more without it.”
I turned up my nose. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea… You just saw me without it.”
“Yes, but it was only for a moment. You caught me by surprise. I’d like to see the real you.”
I swallowed thickly, and nodded. “Okay. But it’s not a wig, it’s called a hair system.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes. I used to wear a wig, and it was extremely uncomfortable. It was hot, and my scalp itched the whole time. It was also scary that it could come off at any moment—if it was windy outside, I couldn’t leave the house for fear the wind would knock it off my head. I couldn’t do anything with that thing. But a hair system is different. It’s the best alternative to hair transplant. They took a plaster mold of my head so they could make a foundation that would fit my scalp perfectly. You can’t even tell it’s not my real hair. Now, I can do so many things I couldn’t do before. When I had a wig, I had to take it off every time I took a shower, but now I don’t have to. I didn’t have to take off my hair system when I slept here, because I can sleep with it on. I can even swim in it, and it won’t come off.”
“I would have never guessed. It really looks like your hair.”
When I finished my explanation, I carefully removed it. I placed it on the couch, and gave Parker an unsure look.
“Can I touch you?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
He ran his hand over my bald scalp, and I felt tears pricking my vision. Never before had anyone, excluding my parents, touched me this way. It felt incredibly intimate. I’d never opened up to someone like this. And it felt liberating. I felt his warm kiss on my forehead. My head was a mess of emotions. He trailed his kisses down my cheek, along my jaw, and back up on the other side of my face.
“You are beau-ti-ful,” he whispered between kisses. “I won’t let anyone hurt you or call you names anymore. You don’t deserve it. You are worth so much more than that.” Tears silently slid down my face. “You’re worthy of love, and I’m giving it to you. Do you hear me? You have my love. It’s been a long time since you stole my heart, and I’m not afraid to admit that. I love you.” His words caused a whirlwind of emotions raging through me. In that moment, I felt like a million bucks. I started crying harder, and I kissed him wholeheartedly, trying to show him how much he meant to me.
“You don’t know how deliriously happy that makes me, Parker. I love you. You mean everything to me. I never want to be without you again.”
“That’s a good thing because I’ll be here for as long as you want me.” He gave me an intense stare, and he ran his finger along my eyebrow.
“Microblading,” I said.
“What?”
“I don’t have eyebrows. They drew them on.”
“They look so real,” he said in astonishment.
“That’s the point,” I smiled. “Luckily, technology has developed so drastically, we can look good despite our imperfections. I’ve waited a long time for my hair system. I was exasperated having people on the street look at me like I’m an alien when I wore a wig. And I was constantly worried it might fall off. But the hair system stays on no matter what, and it’s made me more confident.”
“Were you a redhead before?”
I nodded. “Yes, I wanted a hair color as similar to mine as possible.”
“It suits you,” he said, and brushed a thumb across my cheek.
“You think so?” I said dubiously.
“I know so,” he nodded.
Parker laid me gently on the couch, his eyes never leaving mine. We lay side by side for a while, and then he kissed me. Gently, lovingly, softly. “I love you,” he whispered.
I wanted to stay in that moment forever. With my eyes closed, enjoying his kisses.
“Open your eyes,” he demanded.
I shook my head. “I’m afraid you’ll be gone when I do it,” I explained.
“Open your eyes, honey. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
I did as he said. He grinned at me, and placed a light kiss on the tip of my nose. “I want to kiss every part of your body. I want you to feel good.” I nodded wordlessly, and he reached for the hem of my top, and pulled it over my head. “I adore your body.” His hands slid down my throat, between my breasts to my stomach, and back up. “You’re beautiful.” His fingers explored the area around my chest, traced the cups of my bra, and slowly removed it. But even after it was gone, his hands were everywhere but on my aching nipples—he slid his hand to the undersides of my breast, caressing the outline, tracing the edges of my areolas. Then, his hand retreated to my stomach. His gaze was burning into mine, his eyes dark with desire. My eyes must have looked the same. He teased me relentlessly, still ignoring my nipples. When his mouth finally descended on them, I moaned with pleasure. He licked my right nipple with slow strokes while he was simultaneously flicking his thumb over my left nipple up and down. He gently squeezed it with two fingers, and repeated the motion on the other one. Then he lowered his mouth onto one nipple, and bit down on it, making me writhe with desire. It didn’t hurt; it only fueled my pleasure. I felt his hard shaft pressed against my belly. With his free hand, he reached around me, grabbed my butt, and pushed his hips further into mine, the action eliciting moans from both of us. I touched the band of his sweatpants, and pushed it down. When he was on top of me, only in his boxers, I reached my hand into them and wrapped it around his steel hard erection. He leaned his forehead against mine, groaning.
“Your touch on me feels incredible,” he said, grinding his hips into mine. His nimble fingers quickly undid the buttons on my jeans, and slid them off me. He started showering kisses on my belly, my thighs, over my panties, but he didn’t remove them. His mouth returned to my breasts, focusing some more on my nipples while his fingers were busy exploring every inch of my body. Our breathing grew ragged, and our bodies were slick with sweat as we moved against each other. I couldn’t get enough of him. When our lips met again in a slow, sensual kiss, he slid his hand down to my aching core. He stroked me over my panties, and finally pushed the thin material to the side. He slowly slid one finger inside me, moving slowly, stretching me, and, eventually, adding a second finger. “You’re so wet,” I heard him whisper.
“I want you,” I groaned, and thrust my hips up, his fingers still moving inside me.
“We have time,” he kissed my lips, and his free hand reached out to play with my nipples. “Mmm,” he groaned before removing his fingers from my wet core. I instantly missed them. His fingers moved to the edge of my panties. With his intense eyes burned into me, I lifted my hips so he could easily slide them down my legs.
“Your beauty amazes me every time I look at you,” he confessed. He lowered his body until his head was above my belly, his hands parting my knees.
“Please,” I begged him. I wanted his mouth on me, I needed to feel his warm tongue on my most sensitive spot, and his skillful fingers worked their magic. He answered my plea, and his tongue flicked over my clit, but only for a brief moment.
“More,” I breathed, and he chuckled.
“You’re so demanding. I’ll give you more; don’t worry. I just want to look at you first.” He placed his hand between my legs, sliding it down the slick folds of my sex, and every nerve in my body exploded with desire. He kissed the inner side of my thigh, slowly continuing the wet trail of his kisses upward toward the spot that begged for release. When I thought he would finally grant my wish, and touch his lips to my throbbing center, he moved to my other thigh. I groaned in frustration, and he responded by squeezing my butt cheek with his free hand. Just as I opened my mouth to urge him to
move faster, he pushed my hips up and he explored my wet folds with his mouth, nipping, sucking, biting and licking. He’d teased me so mercilessly before, I came apart in seconds. When the fireworks inside me finally burned out, he pressed one last kiss to my clit, and looked up at me, a grin on his face.
“Good?” he said, quirking an eyebrow.
“Perfect,” I breathed, panting. “Wow,” I let out a satisfied sigh. Parker was still in his boxers, so I looked at him calculatedly. “I think you’re overdressed for the occasion.” He shook his head, so I gave him a puzzled look. His erection stood proudly, making a noticeable dent in his boxers. He was so hard, I bet it must’ve hurt. “Do… I mean, don’t you want… What about you?” I stammered.
“I told you we’re not going to sleep together, not until the situation changes.”
“But—“
He cut me off with a kiss. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it. I’ve been hard since I met you. I’ll take care of myself later.”
I looked away. “I want to take care of you. Why don’t you want me to do it? You always find excuses.” I wanted to feel him, to taste him. “I want you to feel the same pleasure you’ve given me.”
He made me look at him. “Baby, the pleasure of your company is all I want. I don’t need anything else.”
“I didn’t mean that.”
“I know. You wanna know the truth?” I nodded. Of course I wanted to know the truth. “I promised you I won’t make love to you as long as you’re my student. If I felt your mouth on me, I’m afraid I would break that promise. It’s already taking a lot out of me just having you here beside me.”
I gave him a loving look. “Please, let me do this. I need it.”
He looked slightly uncomfortable, before he nodded. “Okay.”
I swiftly pulled his boxers down his legs, and gingerly wrapped my hand around his erection. I glided my hand up and down the length of him, like I’d done many times before. I licked my lips, before putting the head of his cock into my mouth. He groaned as I flicked my tongue over it, and threw his head back in ecstasy.
