I had been feeling up and, on occasion, clumsily fucking a few fellow band girls during dejeuner and in the afternoon time slot. I was definitely working my way up to the real number salutary experiences when, out of nowhere, a different sort of experience changed my perspective.

On a Saturday, being under strict orders to get a haircut, I went to the"salon"at the quoin shopping inwardness. This particular location was also a teaching beauty parlour, meaning they held division there as well. Apparently I showed up right at closing and the one instructor was just about to entrust. Seeing me at the door - he must have decided he needed the one last job and let me in. He introduced himself at"Boots."Boots asked me what I was looking for and I told him a shampoo and a feather cut. He suggested we go into the teaching area so that no one else would conceive he was overt. He flipped the"open"mansion to"fold"and locked the door… then led me to the backrest room.

Inside the teaching room was a nice leather couch that faced a beautiful antique barber chair. The chair stood out as it was beautifully restored in red leather and polished brass. Everything else was Theodore Harold White iron. What were unique on the antique chairwoman were the tuffet where you put your feet while you were getting a shoeshine. There was also the standard footstool, which I used as lawn tennis shoes don't get polished. After checking out my hair, he stood me up and took me to the shampoo area and, as I was wearing a tankful top and gym underdrawers for my exercising in a span of hours, decided he didn't need to put an proscenium on me yet. He set about washing and rinsing my hair in a very proficient way. It just felt mythical. When he was done he sat the chair up and led me to that beautiful barber chairman. While he was wrapping the forestage around me, he commented on how"fuddled"I was. He started rubbing my articulatio humeri in what I would call a"professional"manner. But then, his bridge player moved across my pectoral muscle, over my pap and down my stomach a bit. For the first gear time ever… I felt that little shiver of anticipation that I had felt from the schoolgirls I had put in the Lapplander billet. My solitary reply, was raise up, the slightest bit, to give him the most elusive approval. If I had read it right… he could try for more. If I'd misread him… I could avoid any embarrassment. But he stopped and returned to my hairsbreadth. After a spell of fussing with clipper, then scissors, then finishing up with clipper ship again he twirl me around to the mirror to get my favourable reception. I had been very slack during this clock time, eyes closed and thinking about what had transpired. Apparently it had had it's affect as when I opened my eyes to see the progress in the mirror… I realized I had a raging erection. flush never commented on it and completely ignored it. He then suggested we go back to the sink and rinse off all the clippings so that I wouldn't itch during my physical exertion. He suggested I withdraw my shirt so he could sway it out. I took off the shirt and sat back in the president - laying my head back into the sink. He proceeded to rinse the trim off my head, articulatio humeri and chest. Then he took a towel and gently wiped the overabundance off. He then motioned me back to the Samuel Barber professorship for some"clean up ”.

Sliding back in the chair he laid it back in an almost flat position. He took the towel and was drying my chest again. As his hired man came in touch with the skin of my stomach and hips… I accidentally let out an audible moan. He stopped with the drying and placed his script flat on my frown belly. I felt his early handwriting move to my chest and in particular, my nipple. While he was rubbing assuage rotary around my teat, the outset hand slowly slid into my shorts and under my suspensor. Within seconds, his subdued hired hand was wrapped around my full teenage cock. He moved to the end of the chairwoman and started to slide down my underdrawers. Never hearing him say a tidings I raised my hips to permit my shorts to skid off easier. kick adjusted the ft rests on the death chair to advance my substructure up a bit. The position they were in allowed my genu to drop unresolved comfortably. Next thing I know Boots had reached into a smoke unit and brought out a massage oil. He also set up his clipper again. He went to work on my groin, ball and ass crack with the clippers and trimmed off all the excess hair… leaving me a prissy dapple above my cock so I looked somewhat normal, but clipping all the rest away. Next he pulled out a razor and knock off ointment and made my balls and ass as smooth as a sister. The smell was mythic and I was starting to wriggle. When he wiped me down and started rubbing me down from head to toe with the oil I really started to writhe. God, my cock was unvoiced. But he was leaving it alone. He continued on with an unbelievable rub down. It wasn't the activeness that was so marvelous, but the berth he had me in ; totally vulnerable. In a stead that was usually full phase of the moon of citizenry. I knew we were alone…. But the tactual sensation of being on display was incredible.

When I was putty and completely willing to espouse his lead, he grabbed my hips and motioned for me to move them to the edge of the chairperson. Doing that brought my knees up. charge took out some strap and strapped my tennis shoe to the tuffet. Then he moved to the head of the chairperson and motioned for me to raise my weapons system up. Not surely what he used, but he bound my manpower together and tied them over my capitulum. The reality of my situation started to sink in and I got a little nervous… but boot then reached over and circled his fist around my dick and got my add together care. He worked it back to its rock severe status and then stepped back. He started unbuttoning his frock. He laid it neatly over the sofa and then sat down and removed his place, wind sleeve and pants. He was wearing something of a leather flip-flop with a maw through which protruded a Nice, average size cock with a definitive mushroom head. He walked back to me, bound and shiny, circling up to the area around my head. This was a first. His rooster, which had been semi hard, was now stretching out and becoming corpse. He landed it on my nerve. I gasped as he rubbed it around my human face and, at the same time began pinching a pap. As I gasped and my oral cavity opened a bit the cockhead found its way home. I rolled my read/write head over to allow for better entrance. It was smooth, knockout but diffused at the Saame time. It tasted of goop and clean. There was never, ever, a bad opinion about it. No disgust. No"gay"care. Nothing. I was Just enjoying a few moments of providing a secret feeling and enjoying the attention. About the time iron heel's cock had grown to maximum size and cinch, he pulled it back from my reach. He stepped to the infantry of the chair, between my outstretched stifle. His men began rubbing my chest, rib, stomach and hips… growing more than rough by the present moment. The attention had me straining against the ropes… not to fly the coop, but to look sharp him to the next stone's throw. I was giving him my outdo erotic movement possible while strapped down. Eventually, I felt that adjacent step coming. That mushroom-shaped cloud head was at the entrance to my tight, virginal ass. I felt Boots applying an incredibly slip oil to both his rooster and my integral ass crack. 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. present moment later… I was empty. Then the imperativeness of that mushroom cloud head reappeared. More persistent.. more force and it popped in while I let out a yelp. iron heel had patience though and waited until I got used to the head. Then I got another inch… and back out to the head. He kept working it over and over again until four of the six inch were in… just past the swollen part. How on globe was he not cumming ? I was tight… and helpless. The last move of his was to rear back and drive the last two inch in to the hilt, prompting me to arch my back like a bitch in heat. I was breathing deeply as he pulled out and ram it back to the hilt again, and again, and again. Still he wasn't cumming ! Every connector of his hips with my groin brought a grown and the writhe out of me. My cock was so severe I couldn't stand it. Just seeing it there, angry and red was agony enough. Just when I was getting into a rhythm… kick stopped his hammering. He unstrapped my animal foot and them moved and untied my bridge player from the chair… but left them bound together. He pulled me up from the death chair and took me over to a massage tabular array the he lowered to about 2 metrical foot off the floor. Laying me down on my abdomen with my foreland through the facial expression port he proceeded to get in touch my bound hands to the leg of the table. consequence later I felt strap binding my knees together and then more shoulder strap binding my ankles together and finally strapping my fundament down to the mesa. Boots then took a pillow and doubling it up, forced it under my hips. I wasn't ready for the first smack to my ass and I jumped… but moaned. It wasn't hard enough to injure but enough to make me squirm. Five smacking later he stopped. It was then I felt him straddle the table and my legs. My ass was the perfect height for his still rock knockout turncock. And it was then, it that beautiful prostrate position that I learned the significance of a fierce fuck. He was in and out of me in a most savage, and pleasurable fashion. I couldn't tell if it was pain or delight, but I was in no stance to stop it.

After about five hour of this, he stopped, and began removing the straps to my wooden leg. He rolled me over onto my back with my hands still above my head. Untying my legs he folded me over so my knees were toward my berm. Then he sank that cock back into my ass, driving it to the home and he stopped. He reached down with one paw and began jacking my own rooster, which had been dying to muff a freight. Not two minutes later it was blowing…. to a greater extent than I'd ever blown… and rightfulness into my open mouth. Moments later Boots pulled out of my ass and blew his integral, wax freight, straight into my open mouthpiece. He dropped my pegleg down and forced me to bear witness him my mouth full of come and then live with every drib. 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. make to go, as if nil ever happened. He suggested I return within two week to hold on the hairsbreadth looking good and suggested that Saturday, at 3:00 PM was always a good fourth dimension to come. It was a corking summer.. and my haircloth looked great .