George had finished the book he had been reading and having nothing better to do, turned to the pile of manuscripts. There were not many left that he and Scott had not read between them. However, there was on that had an inriguing title, so George sat down and began to read it....
Short Back and Sides.
I never liked going for a haircut. I don’t know why, I just didn’t. Maybe it was because my mom was always on to me to go to the barber shop. As a kid it was all too often, so when I left home and got a place of my own, I would go for months without a trim. It was the beginning of last summer when out of the blue my mom said she would like to come and visit. She had been to my bachelor pad once before and made all the usual comments about my, in her opinion, poor standards of housekeeping and she spent the few days with me tidying my cupboards and plowing through my pile of laundry. Now she was coming again!
In anticipation of her criticism, I saw to the laundry, cleaned up my cupboards, refrigerator and actually applied some polish to give the place a fresh smell. My next and most dreaded task was to go for a haircut. I forget when I last went and a quick calculation told me it was about three months ago. I phoned for an appointment and arranged to go after work the next day. I was the last customer for the afternoon and I got to the shop at about five forty-five. The barber was a new guy I hadn’t seen before. I watched him carefully as he finished of the customer before me, anxious to see how well he had cut the guy’s hair – I did not want to have a mess made of my ample locks after all! He made a good job and the customer duly thanked him and offered a good tip judging by the way the barber smiled and ushered him out the door.
‘Hi!’ he said to me. ‘As you are my last customer for today, I’ll just lock the door as it is too late for anyone else to drop in on the off chance of a haircut,’ he said as he locked the door and drew down the blind. ‘What can I do for you, sir?’
‘I need a haircut,’ I replied as I looked him over, while removing my jacket and hanging it on a coat stand. He was a fairly tall, slim looking guy with dark hair and a firm jaw, the kind of guy I liked. I sat in the barber chair and watched him through the mirror as he put a gown over me in readiness for his work.
‘How would sir like his hair cut?’ he asked as I strained my eyes to read his name tag pinned to the lapel of his white jacket. In the mirror it appeared as ‘nathE’ [the letters were reversed of course] and I quickly formed it correctly as Ethan.
‘I would like it short on the back and sides but not too much off the top,’ I replied. Ethan ran his long fingers through my substantial locks and smiled at me through the mirror.
‘Your hair is so fine that although it is clean, I would prefer to wash it as it would be better to cut when wet,’ he said. I had time to spare, so was in no hurry; in any event I was enjoying this guy’s touch. Hairdressers, along with doctors, dentists and masseurs are among the few people who can lay hands on you without you feeling any real concern as you trust them as practitioners of their professions. When that person looks sexy and has the right kind of aura, that touch can be quite erotic. I was more than happy to feel Ethan wash my hair, so I told him to go right ahead.
He fetched a couple of towels from a cabinet and placed one below my chin and over my shoulders and the second over my shoulders from behind, tucking them both firmly into my collar. He then released a catch on the chair so that it swung around and then lowered so that my head was over the wash basin below the mirror. I relaxed as he used a spray to wet my hair, all the time running the fingers of his left hand over my scalp. He then applied some shampoo and proceeded to massage my scalp with both hands as he worked the shampoo into my hair. It felt good, especially as he had to lean over me and I could look up and admire his face as he concentrated on what he was doing. I was aware of his crotch against my arm as he washed my hair and I was certain that he had a hard on.
He rinsed off the shampoo and proceeded to repeat the process. He seemed to be deliberately rubbing his crotch against me and I felt my own cock start to stir as I became all the more convinced that he was as hard as steel in his tight black pants. The second lot of shampoo was rinsed away and my head was swathed in the towel from my shoulders as he swung the chair back into its original position. He used the towel to remove the excess water leaving my hair hanging wet and lank as he reached for a comb and a pair of scissors. He combed my wet locks back away from my forehead and shook water from the comb but not before some of it trickled down my neck and under my collar in a cold stream that caused me to shiver.
‘Sorry about that, I hope that it has not made your shirt wet,’ Ethan said as I observed his concerned facial expression reflected in the glass.
‘No, it’s OK, I’ll survive,’ I replied, my voice sounding husky as I struggled with erotic thoughts about him. The scissors began to click and soon the gown around me became flecked with damp clippings of hair. Ethan worked silently, unlike most barbers he did not interrogate me on past and future vacations or indulge in conversation about sport or the weather. For that I was thankful but as he continued to press his hard on against me whenever the opportunity arose, I wanted so much to ask him whether his was gay. I liked to think that his erection was on my account and not because he was anticipating a hot session with his girlfriend after he had finished my session in his chair.
Deciding to take the initiative, the next time he stood at my side and brushed against me, I reached out my hand and felt the bulge in his pants.
‘Sir likes that?’ he said, pausing and looking directly into my eye through the looking glass.
‘Very much, I replied returning his gaze. Without saying more, he unzipped his pants and plunged his hand inside his fly and with a little jiggle, no doubt to negotiate over his underwear, he pulled out his cock. It was hard, long and slender; possibly the longest cock I had ever seen and I have seen a fair few in my time. He was uncut and he pulled back his foreskin to show a beautifully formed purple dome with a single eye that I could swear winked at me. Ethan moved in so that I could grasp the shaft of his dick before taking it into my hungry lips.
I joyfully let him fuck my face for what seemed like ages, I got ample taste of his sweet pre-cum and yearned for his full wad but he had other thoughts. Just as I felt that he was about to cum, he pulled out and whipped the gown off me so that he could make an assault on the fly of my pants. My cock was straining to be set free and he had it out quick as a flash. It was my turn to feel the warm slaver of his lips and saliva as he worked me to ever increasing heights of excitement. I was wishing that the sensation could last forever but like all good things an end was in sight – well if not literally in sight, in his fantastic throat.
‘Oh my God!’ I exclaimed, ‘I am going to cum!’ The words had hardly escaped my lips than I was shooting my load deep into his throat. He clearly relished the cum-fest as he swallowed it and licked around my cock head to savor every last drop, even licking the drops that had escaped his mouth and trickled onto my balls. Ethan grabbed a tissue and wiped around his lips before dropping his pants to the floor.
‘I want you in me,’ he pleaded as he turned his back to me and bent low so that I could observe the pink rose of his sphincter set in the deep crack of his neatly formed butt. I took a pack of condoms from the display and slipped one onto my cock that was still slicked by the action of his mouth upon it. Seeing nothing that would act as a lubricant I spat onto my fingers and worked them into his hole in preparation for insertion of my throbbing hard on.
‘Oh, yes that feels so good. Now fuck me,’ he said his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. I pressed home and felt him close tightly around my shaft. I waited a moment for him to be comfortable and then began to work i and out with a steady motion that was punctuated by his cries of ‘Oh yes! Yes! Fuuuuuck YES!
By now my pants and underwear were down around my ankles and I pulled off my shirt so that I was naked. I slapped his butt cheeks and grabbed his hips to steady him as he was bent over in front of me. However, I soon realised that his position would become unsustainable so moved back onto the chair and hauled him up so that he was astride my thighs while still impaled upon my cock. He shed his white jacket and shirt so that he too was naked although we were both a little hampered by our pant swathed ankles.
Ethan bobbed up and down on my cock groaning with pleasure each time his butt crashed back into my pubes. A bolt of fiery electricity shot up my spine and into my skull as I climaxed for the second time deep in his butt. Ethan stood and backed off my cock and turned to face me. His cock was hard and red as he jerked on it and shot long streams of hot spunk onto my chest and face. He let me suck his cock clean and then proceeded to lick the cum from my face and chest and kissed me so that we could share the taste of his seed. He sat on my lap and we kissed slowly, exploring with our tongues while caressing one another with our hands. Suddenly Ethan sprang away from me.
‘Ouch! Your chin is so rough!’ He exclaimed. ‘I’ll give you a shave. Your new haircut needs to be complemented with a smooth chin and cheeks. I’ll give you the shave of your life,’ he said. While Ethan busied himself preparing the water and soap and stropping an old fashioned open cut throat razor, I used a towel to mop the cum from my body, then lay back in the chair that had been slightly reclined to facilitate my shave. Ethan placed a fresh towel across my naked torso and then made my face wet with a warm sponge and used a brush to apply a rich lather of soap over my cheeks, chin and throat. He then took up the razor, which to be honest made me quiver just a little when I contemplated the harm such a sharp unguarded blade could inflict.
Ethan slowly and carefully drew the blade over my cheeks, below my nose to the upper lip and then proceeded to work around my chin and jaw. Next he deftly worked over my neck, taking care to stretch the skin too ease the path of his blade. He then applied a second layer of shaving soap over my features and started to repeat his earlier process.
As he was shaving me, I was reminded of a story I had read many, many years ago. A journalist was offered a bet to spend the night in a wax works and as he sat in a chamber of horrors depicting with life sized wax effigies, notorious murderers he looked across and saw a figure of a quaint little man. The sign at his feet described him as a Frenchman, a barber who slit the throats of his customers as he shaved them. It was as I was recalling this particular story that I felt a nick in my neck, just below my jaw line.
‘Ooops, sorry,’ Ethan said apologetically but with a wild glint in his eyes that said he was anything but sorry for what he had done. As I looked up at him I saw that his body was suddenly sprayed bright red as though by a paint gun. My hand went up to my neck and I discovered the warm wet source of the spray a split second before everything went blank......
George sat quietly for a few moments and then called out to Scott, 'Hey, you must come and read this - it's the sort of creepy stuff you like!'