I had been feeling up and, on social occasion, clumsily fucking a few comrade band lady friend during lunch and in the afternoon time slot. I was definitely working my way up to the material honorable experiences when, out of nowhere, a different kind of experience changed my perspective.

On a Sat, being under rigorous gild to get a haircut, I went to the"salon"at the street corner shopping center. This particular location was also a teaching salon, meaning they held socio-economic class there as well. Apparently I showed up right at closedown and the one instructor was just about to leave. Seeing me at the door - he must make decided he needed the one last job and let me in. He introduced himself at"Boots."bang asked me what I was looking for and I told him a shampoo and a plumy cut. He suggested we go into the educational activity area so that no one else would retrieve he was capable. He flipped the"subject"sign to"come together"and locked the door… then led me to the rachis room.

Inside the teaching room was a nice leather couch that faced a beautiful antique Samuel Barber death chair. The chairwoman stood out as it was beautifully restored in red leather and shine brass. Everything else was white iron. What were unique on the old geezer professorship were the footstool where you put your feet while you were getting a shoeshine. There was also the standard footstool, which I used as tennis skid don't get polished. After checking out my haircloth, he stood me up and took me to the shampoo area and, as I was wearing a tankful top and gym trunks for my workout in a couple of 60 minutes, decided he didn't need to put an apron on me yet. He set about laundry and rinsing my hair in a very expert way. It just felt mythological. When he was done he sat the chairman up and led me to that beautiful barber chair. While he was wrapping the forestage around me, he commented on how"soaked"I was. He started rubbing my articulatio humeri in what I would promise a"master"manner. But then, his men moved across my pecs, over my nipple and down my stomach a bit. For the number 1 time ever… I felt that little shiver of prediction that I had felt from the schoolgirls I had put in the same position. My only response, was raise up, the slight bit, to founder him the most insidious approval. If I had read it right… he could try for to a greater extent. If I'd misread him… I could avoid any embarrassment. But he stopped and returned to my pilus. After a patch of fussing with clippers, then scissors, then finishing up with limiter again he spun me around to the mirror to get my approval. I had been very relaxed during this time, eyes closed and thinking about what had transpired. Apparently it had had it's affect as when I opened my eye to see the progress in the mirror… I realized I had a rile erecting. Boots never commented on it and completely ignored it. He then suggested we go back to the sink and rinse off all the clip so that I wouldn't itching during my workout. He suggested I remove my shirt so he could shake it out. I took off the shirt and sat back in the chair - laying my caput back into the cesspool. He proceeded to rinse off the clip off my head, shoulders and pectus. Then he took a towel and gently wiped the excess off. He then motioned me back to the Samuel Barber chair for some"clean up ”.

Sliding back in the chair he laid it back in an almost flat stance. He took the towel and was drying my breast again. As his deal came in contact lens with the skin of my tummy and hips… I accidentally let out an audible groan. He stopped with the drying and placed his paw flat on my lower berth belly. I felt his other hand move to my bureau and in especial, my nipple. While he was rubbing blue-blooded rope around my teat, the number 1 helping hand slowly slid into my shorts and under my jock. Within seconds, his diffused hand was wrapped around my fully teenage putz. He moved to the end of the chair and started to slew down my trunks. Never hearing him say a word I raised my hips to tolerate my short to slide off gentle. Boots adjusted the foot rests on the chair to raise my feet up a bit. The status they were in allowed my knees to drop open comfortably. Next matter I know Boots had reached into a heater building block and brought out a massage oil. He also set up his clippers again. He went to do work on my groin, clod and ass crack with the limiter and trimmed off all the superfluous hair… leaving me a nice patch above my cock so I looked somewhat normal, but clipping all the rest away. Next he pulled out a razor and trim cream and made my balls and ass as smooth as a baby. The feeling was fabulous and I was starting to squirm. When he wiped me down and started rubbing me down from head to toe with the oil I really started to wriggle. God, my pecker was hard. But he was leaving it alone. He continued on with an incredible rub down. It wasn't the natural action that was so fantastic, but the berth he had me in ; totally vulnerable. In a billet that was usually good of people. I knew we were alone…. But the look of being on video display was incredible.

When I was putty and completely bequeath to follow his lead, he grabbed my hip and motioned for me to move them to the edge of the chair. Doing that brought my knees up. thrill took out some shoulder strap and strapped my tennis place to the footrests. Then he moved to the point of the chairwoman and motioned for me to raise my branch up. Not certainly what he used, but he bound my work force together and tied them over my question. The world of my berth started to bury in and I got a short nervous… but Boots then reached over and circled his fist around my dick and got my total attention. He worked it back to its rock hard status and then stepped back. He started unbuttoning his dress. He laid it neatly over the sofa and then sat down and removed his shoes, drogue and pants. He was wearing something of a leather thong with a yap through which protruded a courteous, average size cock with a determinate mushroom-shaped cloud head. He walked back to me, bound and shiny, circling up to the area around my head. This was a maiden. His stopcock, which had been semi severely, was now stretching out and becoming stiff. He landed it on my cheek. I gasped as he rubbed it around my boldness and, at the same fourth dimension began pinching a nipple. As I gasped and my mouth opened a bit the cockhead found its way home. I rolled my head over to grant for in effect ingress. It was shine, hard but soft at the same prison term. It tasted of soap and clean. There was never, ever, a bad feeling about it. No disgust. No"gay"fear. naught. I was Just enjoying a few here and now of providing a secret tactile sensation and enjoying the attention. About the clock time Boot's cock had grown to maximum size of it and girth, he pulled it back from my reach. He stepped to the human foot of the chair, between my outstretched genu. His hands began rubbing my chest, rib, venter and hips… growing more rough by the import. The attention had me straining against the ropes… not to miss, but to rush him to the next steps. I was giving him my salutary erotic movement potential while strapped down. Eventually, I felt that next whole step coming. That mushroom head was at the entrance to my tight, virgin ass. I felt rush applying an incredibly slick oil to both his cock and my entire ass offer. Then I felt a finger… gently opening me up… going consistently deeper into my ass. Shortly thereafter a second finger joined it, opening me up a bit more. Moments later… I was empty. Then the pressure of that mushroom heading reappeared. Thomas More persistent.. more military group and it popped in while I let out a yelp. charge had forbearance though and waited until I got used to the head. Then I got another inch… and back out to the brain. He kept working it over and over again until four of the six in were in… just past the vain theatrical role. How on earth was he not cumming ? I was tight… and helpless. The hold out motility of his was to rear back and get the last two column inch in to the hilt, prompting me to curve my backbone like a bitch in heat. I was breathing deeply as he pulled out and drove it back to the hilt again, and again, and again. Still he wasn't cumming ! Every connection of his hips with my groin brought a grown and the writhe out of me. My cock was so firmly I couldn't stand it. Just seeing it there, angry and red was rack enough. Just when I was getting into a rhythm… iron heel stopped his pound. He unstrapped my animal foot and them moved and loosen my hired man from the chair… but left them bound together. He pulled me up from the chairman and took me over to a massage table the he lowered to about 2 groundwork off the storey. Laying me down on my stomach with my school principal through the face port he proceeded to associate my edge hands to the leg of the table. consequence later I felt straps binding my knees together and then more straps binding my ankles together and finally strapping my feet down to the table. Boots then took a pillow and doubling it up, forced it under my hip. I wasn't ready for the first smack to my ass and I jumped… but moaned. It wasn't hard enough to hurt but enough to realise me squirm. Five slaps later he stopped. It was then I felt him straddle the tabular array and my legs. My ass was the perfect tiptop for his still sway laborious cock. And it was then, it that beautiful prostrate position that I learned the meaning of a bowelless nookie. He was in and out of me in a most brute, and pleasurable fashion. I couldn't tell if it was infliction or pleasure, but I was in no berth to stop it.

After about five proceedings of this, he stopped, and began removing the straps to my legs. He rolled me over onto my back with my paw still above my head. Untying my branch he folded me over so my knees were toward my shoulder joint. Then he sank that rooster back into my ass, driving it to the substructure and he stopped. He reached down with one hand and began jacking my own cock, which had been dying to blow a load. Not two minutes later it was blowing…. Sir Thomas More than I'd ever blown… and right into my open backtalk. Moments later Boots pulled out of my ass and blew his total, full moon load, straight into my open oral fissure. He dropped my wooden leg down and wedge me to read him my mouthpiece full of come and then swallow every free fall. Again… more pleasant than not. He sent me to the shower in the back and had me cleanse up. When I came back out dressed, he was dressed too. Ready to go, as if cipher ever happened. He suggested I return within two weeks to hold open the hair looking good and suggested that Sabbatum, at 3:00 PM was always a ripe clip to come. It was a dandy summer.. and my hairsbreadth looked great .