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

On a Sabbatum, being under strict decree to get a haircut, I went to the"beauty shop"at the corner shopping heart and soul. This finicky positioning was also a instruction salon, meaning they held form there as well. Apparently I showed up right at closing and the one instructor was just about to go out. Seeing me at the room access - he must have decided he needed the one go job and let me in. He introduced himself at"Boots."rush asked me what I was looking for and I told him a shampoo and a feathered cut. He suggested we go into the pedagogy area so that no one else would retrieve he was afford. He flipped the"open"sign to"closed"and locked the door… then led me to the back room.

Inside the teaching elbow room was a nice leather couch that faced a beautiful antique barber electric chair. The chair stood out as it was beautifully restored in red leather and round off establishment. Everything else was tweed iron. What were unique on the antique chairs were the footstools where you put your foundation while you were getting a shoeshine. There was also the banner tuffet, which I used as 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 army tank top and gym trunks for my workout in a match of minute, decided he didn't need to put an forestage on me yet. He set about washing and rinsing my hair in a very skilful way. It just felt fabulous. When he was done he sat the chair up and led me to that beautiful barber chair. While he was wrapping the forestage around me, he commented on how"tight"I was. He started rubbing my shoulders in what I would shout a"pro"manner. But then, his hands moved across my pecs, over my pap and down my stomach a bit. For the first clip ever… I felt that little frisson of anticipation that I had felt from the schoolgirls I had put in the same position. My only reply, was nurture up, the slight bit, to reach him the most subtle 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 piece of fussing with limiter, then scissors, then finishing up with clippers again he twirl me around to the mirror to get my approving. I had been very relaxed during this fourth dimension, eyes closed and thinking about what had transpired. Apparently it had had it's affect as when I opened my eye to see the advancement in the mirror… I realized I had a raging hard-on. 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 workout. He suggested I transfer my shirt so he could shake it out. I took off the shirt and sat back in the chairwoman - laying my head back into the sink. He proceeded to rinse the clip off my head word, shoulders and dresser. 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 unconditional billet. He took the towel and was drying my chest again. As his hand came in inter-group communication with the peel of my stomach and hips… I accidentally let out an hearable moan. He stopped with the drying and placed his paw flat on my lower belly. I felt his former hand relocation to my breast and in particular proposition, my nipple. While he was rubbing gentle rope around my nipple, the low hired man slowly slid into my boxers and under my jock. Within seconds, his balmy paw was wrapped around my full teenage peter. He moved to the end of the chair and started to slide down my shorts. Never hearing him say a tidings I raised my rose hip to admit my shorts to slip off light. iron boot adjusted the foot rests on the chair to rear my foundation up a bit. The position they were in allowed my knee to knock off open comfortably. Next thing I know boot had reached into a heater unit of measurement and brought out a massage oil. He also set up his clipper again. He went to work on on my groin, glob and ass snap with the clippers and trimmed off all the redundant hair… leaving me a squeamish patch above my cock so I looked somewhat normal, but clipping all the relaxation away. Next he pulled out a razor and shave cream and made my Lucille Ball and ass as smooth as a infant. The feeling was fabulous and I was starting to writhe. 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 severely. But he was leaving it alone. He continued on with an incredible rub down. It wasn't the activity that was so fantastic, but the perspective he had me in ; totally vulnerable. In a shoes that was usually full of people. I knew we were alone…. But the feeling of being on display was incredible.

When I was putty and completely unforced to follow his jumper lead, he grabbed my hips and motioned for me to locomote them to the edge of the professorship. Doing that brought my knee up. iron boot took out some strap and strapped my lawn tennis shoes to the footstool. Then he moved to the head of the chair and motioned for me to raise my arms up. Not surely what he used, but he bound my hands together and tied them over my mind. The reality of my billet started to bury in and I got a little nervous… but kick then reached over and circled his fist around my dick and got my amount attention. He worked it back to its rock music hard status 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 sleeve and pants. He was wearing something of a leather thong with a hole through which protruded a Nice, average size cock with a definitive mushroom fountainhead. He walked back to me, bound and shiny, circling up to the expanse around my school principal. This was a number 1. His turncock, which had been semi concentrated, was now stretching out and becoming stiff. He landed it on my cheek. I gasped as he rubbed it around my facial expression and, at the like metre began pinching a teat. As I gasped and my mouth opened a bit the cockhead found its way home. I rolled my headspring over to allow for better accounting entry. It was smoothen, toilsome but soft at the Lapp time. It tasted of easy lay and clean. There was never, ever, a bad feeling about it. No disgust. No"gay"veneration. zip. I was Just enjoying a few moments of providing a mystic feeling and enjoying the care. About the time kicking's cock had grown to maximum size of it and girth, he pulled it back from my scope. He stepped to the ft of the chairman, between my outstretched knees. His men began rubbing my breast, rib, stomach and hips… growing more pugnacious by the second. The care had me straining against the ropes… not to escape, but to rush him to the next steps. I was giving him my salutary erotic movement potential while strapped down. Eventually, I felt that succeeding step coming. That mushroom headspring was at the entranceway to my tight, vestal ass. I felt bang applying an incredibly slick oil to both his peter and my entire ass crack. Then I felt a finger… gently opening me up… going consistently deeper into my ass. Shortly thereafter a sec finger joined it, opening me up a bit more. Moments later… I was empty. Then the force per unit area of that mushroom-shaped cloud headland reappeared. More persistent.. more force out and it popped in while I let out a yelp. thrill had patience though and waited until I got used to the head word. Then I got another inch… and back out to the straits. He kept working it over and over again until four of the six inch were in… just past the intumesce parting. How on earth was he not cumming ? I was tight… and helpless. The last move of his was to lift back and drive the last two inches in to the hilt, prompting me to arc my vertebral column 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 link of his hip joint with my bulwark brought a grown and the writhe out of me. My turncock 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… Boots stopped his hammering. He unstrapped my feet and them moved and loosen my hands from the chair… but left them bound together. He pulled me up from the chair and took me over to a massage table the he lowered to about 2 feet off the floor. Laying me down on my abdomen with my top dog through the face porthole he proceeded to plug in my spring hands to the leg of the table. present moment later I felt shoulder strap binding my knees together and then more shoulder strap binding my ankle joint together and finally strapping my infantry down to the table. thrill then took a pillow and doubling it up, forced it under my pelvic arch. I wasn't ready for the beginning slap to my ass and I jumped… but moaned. It wasn't hard enough to smart but enough to relieve oneself me twist. Five slaps later he stopped. It was then I felt him range the table and my legs. My ass was the stark height for his still sway firmly stopcock. And it was then, it that beautiful prone attitude that I learned the meaning of a tearing fuck. He was in and out of me in a most brutal, and gratifying fashion. I couldn't tell if it was botheration or pleasure, but I was in no position to quit it.

After about five minutes of this, he stopped, and began removing the straps to my legs. He rolled me over onto my back with my men still above my question. Untying my legs he folded me over so my knee joint were toward my articulatio humeri. Then he sank that cock back into my ass, driving it to the base 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 min later it was blowing…. more than than I'd ever blown… and right into my open air mouth. Moments later the boot pulled out of my ass and blew his entire, entire load, straight into my open mouth. He dropped my legs down and forced me to show him my back talk full of come and then bury every drop. Again… more pleasant than not. He sent me to the shower in the backrest and had me scavenge 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 weeks to observe the hair looking good and suggested that Sat, at 3:00 PM was always a in effect fourth dimension to come. It was a expectant summer.. and my pilus looked neat .