I had been feeling up and, on occasion, clumsily fucking a few fellow band girls during lunch and in the afternoon prison term one-armed bandit. I was definitely working my way up to the literal trade good experiences when, out of nowhere, a different kind of experience changed my perspective.

On a Saturday, being under strict monastic order to get a haircut, I went to the"beauty shop"at the turning point shopping center. This particular localisation was also a teaching salon, meaning they held classes there as well. Apparently I showed up right at closing and the one instructor was just about to pull up stakes. Seeing me at the door - he must have decided he needed the one live on 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 plumy cut. He suggested we go into the teaching sphere so that no one else would remember he was open. He flipped the"open"sign to"fill up"and locked the door… then led me to the hinder room.

Inside the teaching room was a prissy leather couch that faced a beautiful antique barber death chair. The hot seat stood out as it was beautifully restored in red leather and polished establishment. Everything else was lily-white iron. What were unique on the antique chairs were the footstools where you put your feet while you were getting a shoeshine. There was also the standard ottoman, which I used as lawn tennis shoe 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 tank top and gym trunks for my workout in a couple of 60 minutes, decided he didn't need to put an proscenium on me yet. He set about washing and rinsing my fuzz in a very expert way. It just felt mythological. When he was done he sat the chair up and led me to that beautiful barber chair. While he was wrapping the apron around me, he commented on how"squiffy"I was. He started rubbing my shoulder in what I would promise a"professional"mode. But then, his hands moved across my pecs, over my mamilla and down my stomach a bit. For the first fourth dimension ever… I felt that niggling tremble of prevision that I had felt from the schoolgirls I had put in the Sami military position. My only reaction, was raise up, the slender bit, to give him the most pernicious 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 hair's-breadth. After a spell of fussing with clippers, then scissors, then finishing up with limiter again he spin out me around to the mirror to get my favourable reception. I had been very slacken during this sentence, middle closed and thinking about what had transpired. Apparently it had had it's affect as when I opened my optic to see the onward motion in the mirror… I realized I had a bother erection. Boots 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 exercise. He suggested I remove my shirt so he could shake it out. I took off the shirt and sat back in the death chair - laying my head back into the swallow hole. He proceeded to rinse the clippings off my head, articulatio humeri and pectus. Then he took a towel and gently wiped the excess off. He then motioned me back to the barber chair for some"clean up ”.

Sliding back in the chair he laid it back in an almost insipid position. He took the towel and was drying my chest again. As his deal came in contact with the skin of my stomach and hips… I accidentally let out an audible moan. He stopped with the drying and placed his handwriting flat on my lower belly. I felt his other hand move to my chest and in particular, my teat. While he was rubbing appease circles around my mamilla, the first helping hand slowly slid into my shorts and under my athlete. Within seconds, his subdued hired hand was wrapped around my full teenage shaft. He moved to the end of the chair and started to slide down my shorts. Never hearing him say a word I raised my hips to allow my drawers to slide off easier. Boots adjusted the foot rests on the chair to raise my feet up a bit. The side they were in allowed my stifle to overlook outdoors comfortably. Next thing I know thrill had reached into a heater unit and brought out a massage oil. He also set up his limiter again. He went to put to work on my groin, orchis and ass sally with the clippers and trimmed off all the excess hair… leaving me a nice while above my cock so I looked somewhat normal, but clipping all the rest away. Next he pulled out a razor and shave cream and made my balls and ass as smooth as a child. The touch was mythologic and I was starting to wrestle. When he wiped me down and started rubbing me down from promontory to toe with the oil I really started to writhe. God, my cock was hard. But he was leaving it alone. He continued on with an unbelievable rub down. It wasn't the activity that was so fantastic, but the situation he had me in ; totally vulnerable. In a lieu that was usually full of masses. I knew we were alone…. But the flavour of being on display was incredible.

When I was putty and completely willing to travel along his lead, he grabbed my hips and motioned for me to move them to the border of the chair. Doing that brought my articulatio genus up. Boots took out some shoulder strap and strapped my tennis shoes to the footstool. Then he moved to the head of the chair and motioned for me to levy my munition up. Not sure what he used, but he bound my deal together and tied them over my head. The reality of my situation started to sink in and I got a picayune nervous… but Boots then reached over and circled his clenched fist around my dick and got my total tending. He worked it back to its rock hard condition and then stepped back. He started unbuttoning his frock. He laid it neatly over the sofa and then sat down and removed his shoes, wind cone and knickers. He was wearing something of a leather flip-flop with a hole through which protruded a nice, modal size cock with a unequivocal mushroom forefront. He walked back to me, bound and shiny, circling up to the domain around my head. This was a first. His tool, which had been semi strong, was now stretching out and becoming stiff. He landed it on my cheek. I gasped as he rubbed it around my font and, at the same time began pinching a tit. As I gasped and my mouthpiece opened a bit the cockhead found its way rest home. I rolled my point over to earmark for proficient entry. It was suave, hard but soft at the like time. It tasted of soap and clean. There was never, ever, a bad feeling about it. No disgust. No"gay"reverence. Nothing. I was Just enjoying a few second of providing a mysterious feeling and enjoying the attention. About the time the boot's cock had grown to maximum size and girth, he pulled it back from my reach. He stepped to the foot of the chairman, between my outstretched knees. His handwriting began rubbing my thorax, ribs, stomach and hips… growing more rough by the moment. The attention had me straining against the ropes… not to bunk, but to rush along him to the following footfall. I was giving him my considerably erotic apparent movement possible while strapped down. Eventually, I felt that next step coming. That mushroom foreland was at the entrance to my tight, virgin ass. I felt thrill applying an incredibly slick magazine oil to both his tool and my entire ass crack. Then I felt a finger… gently opening me up… going consistently deeper into my ass. Shortly thereafter a instant finger joined it, opening me up a bit more. import later… I was empty. Then the atmospheric pressure of that mushroom headspring reappeared. More persistent.. more force and it popped in while I let out a yelp. thrill had solitaire though and waited until I got used to the fountainhead. Then I got another inch… and back out to the caput. He kept working it over and over again until four of the six inch were in… just past the swollen-headed part. How on earth was he not cumming ? I was tight… and helpless. The last motility of his was to rear back and drive the last two inches in to the hilt, prompting me to arch my back like a bitch in heat. I was breathing deeply as he pulled out and force back it back to the hilt again, and again, and again. Still he wasn't cumming ! Every connectedness of his pelvic girdle with my groin brought a grown and the writhe out of me. My cock was so hard I couldn't stand it. Just seeing it there, angry and red was torture enough. Just when I was getting into a rhythm… kicking stopped his hammering. He unstrapped my feet and them moved and undo my hands from the chair… but left them bound together. He pulled me up from the chair and took me over to a massage board the he lowered to about 2 feet off the level. Laying me down on my belly with my head through the face embrasure he proceeded to link up my bound hands to the leg of the board. bit later I felt strap binding my knee together and then more straps binding my ankle together and finally strapping my animal foot down to the table. Boots then took a pillow and doubling it up, forced it under my hip joint. I wasn't ready for the foremost smack to my ass and I jumped… but moaned. It wasn't hard enough to hurt but enough to take a crap me wrestle. Five slaps later he stopped. It was then I felt him straddle the table and my legs. My ass was the perfect peak for his still rock hard cock. And it was then, it that beautiful prone position that I learned the meaning of a fierce nookie. He was in and out of me in a most brutal, and pleasurable style. I couldn't tell if it was infliction or pleasure, but I was in no position to stop it.

After about five minutes of this, he stopped, and began removing the strap to my stage. He rolled me over onto my back with my hands still above my head. Untying my legs he folded me over so my knee were toward my shoulders. Then he sank that cock back into my ass, driving it to the cornerstone and he stopped. He reached down with one manus and began jacking my own cock, which had been dying to blow a shipment. Not two arcminute later it was blowing…. to a greater extent than I'd ever blown… and rightfulness into my give mouth. Moments later Boots pulled out of my ass and blew his full, full moon encumbrance, straight into my heart-to-heart backtalk. He dropped my legs down and forced me to read him my mouth broad of come and then swallow every drop. Again… more pleasant than not. He sent me to the shower in the back and had me clean up. When I came back out dressed, he was dressed too. Ready to go, as if nothing ever happened. He suggested I return within two calendar week to save the hair looking good and suggested that Sat, at 3:00 PM was always a good time to come up. It was a great summer.. and my pilus looked not bad .