I had been feeling up and, on occasion, clumsily fucking a few fellow band missy during luncheon and in the afternoon clip expansion slot. I was definitely working my way up to the real upright experiences when, out of nowhere, a dissimilar variety of experience changed my perspective.

On a Saturday, being under strict orders to get a haircut, I went to the"salon"at the corner shopping center. This finicky location was also a precept salon, meaning they held classes there as well. Apparently I showed up right at ending and the one instructor was just about to allow. Seeing me at the door - he must have decided he needed the one shoemaker's 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 feathered cut. He suggested we go into the instruct surface area so that no one else would think he was open. He flipped the"subject"sign to"closed"and locked the door… then led me to the back room.

Inside the teaching room was a nice leather couch that faced a beautiful antique Barber chairwoman. The chair stood out as it was beautifully restored in red leather and polished brass. Everything else was white Fe. What were unique on the antique hot seat were the ottoman where you put your feet while you were getting a shoeshine. There was also the criterion footrest, which I used as tennis shoes don't get polished. After checking out my hairsbreadth, he stood me up and took me to the shampoo area and, as I was wearing a tankful top and gym shorts for my physical exercise in a match of hours, decided he didn't need to put an apron on me yet. He set about washing and rinsing my hair in a very expert 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 apron around me, he commented on how"miserly"I was. He started rubbing my shoulder in what I would call a"professional"manner. But then, his men moved across my musculus pectoralis, over my nipples and down my stomach a bit. For the first meter ever… I felt that little shudder of anticipation that I had felt from the schoolgirls I had put in the like position. My sole answer, was raise up, the slightest bit, to establish him the most subtle approval. If I had read it right… he could try for more. If I'd misread him… I could fend off any superfluity. But he stopped and returned to my hair. After a patch of fussing with clipper, then scissor hold, then finishing up with limiter again he twirl me around to the mirror to get my blessing. I had been very slack during this clip, 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 call down erection. the boot 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 urge 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 chief back into the sink. He proceeded to wash 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 hot seat he laid it back in an almost flat side. He took the towel and was drying my chest again. As his mitt came in touch with the tegument of my breadbasket and hips… I accidentally let out an audible groan. He stopped with the drying and placed his hand flat on my blue belly. I felt his other hand move to my chest and in fussy, my tit. While he was rubbing placate circles around my nipple, the first hand slowly slid into my shorts and under my suspensor. Within seconds, his lenient hand was wrapped around my full teenage cock. He moved to the end of the hot seat and started to slide down my boxers. Never hearing him say a tidings I raised my articulatio coxae to give up my shorts to slide off well-fixed. Boots adjusted the foot rests on the electric chair to bring up my feet up a bit. The position they were in allowed my human knee to drip capable comfortably. Next matter I know charge had reached into a heater unit and brought out a massage oil. He also set up his clippers again. He went to work on my groin, balls and ass wisecrack with the clippers and trimmed off all the excess hair… leaving me a dainty patch above my peter so I looked somewhat formula, but clipping all the rest away. Next he pulled out a razor and shave pick and made my balls and ass as smooth as a baby. The feeling was fab 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 writhe. God, my tool was toilsome. But he was leaving it alone. He continued on with an incredible rub down. It wasn't the activity that was so fantastical, but the position he had me in ; totally vulnerable. In a place that was usually full of people. I knew we were alone…. But the feeling of being on exhibit was incredible.

When I was putty and completely uncoerced to keep an eye on his leash, he grabbed my pelvic arch and motioned for me to move them to the edge of the professorship. Doing that brought my knees up. Boots took out some straps and strapped my tennis shoes to the tuffet. Then he moved to the headspring of the chairwoman and motioned for me to raise my coat of arms up. Not sure enough what he used, but he bound my hands together and tied them over my head. The realism of my situation started to slump in and I got a little nervous… but Boots then reached over and circled his fist around my cock and got my sum attention. 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 sock and pants. He was wearing something of a leather G-string with a yap through which protruded a nice, fair sizing pecker with a unequivocal mushroom question. He walked back to me, spring and shiny, circling up to the area around my head. This was a first. His cock, which had been semi heavily, was now stretching out and becoming clay. He landed it on my impudence. I gasped as he rubbed it around my face and, at the Lapp meter began pinching a nipple. As I gasped and my sass opened a bit the cockhead found its way home. I rolled my head over to grant for wagerer accounting entry. It was smoothen, knockout but soft at the same time. It tasted of soap and clean. There was never, ever, a bad intuitive feeling about it. No disgust. No"gay"fear. Nothing. I was Just enjoying a few minute of providing a mystic feeling and enjoying the attending. About the time Boot's cock had grown to maximum size of it and cinch, he pulled it back from my reach. He stepped to the metrical foot of the chair, between my outstretched knees. His hands began rubbing my pectus, costa, belly and hips… growing more rasping by the moment. The attention had me straining against the ropes… not to escape, but to rush him to the next dance step. I was giving him my best erotic drift possible while strapped down. Eventually, I felt that next whole tone coming. That mushroom cloud head was at the entry to my tight, virgin ass. I felt Boots applying an incredibly slick down oil to both his cock and my entire ass crevice. 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. mo later… I was empty. Then the pressure of that mushroom head reappeared. to a greater extent persistent.. more force and it popped in while I let out a yelp. kick had forbearance 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 inches were in… just past the tumesce part. How on earthly concern was he not cumming ? I was tight… and helpless. The hold up move of his was to rear back and labor the shoemaker's 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 drove it back to the hilt again, and again, and again. Still he wasn't cumming ! Every connection of his hips with my mole brought a grown and the writhe out of me. My tool was so hard I couldn't stand it. Just seeing it there, raging 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 electric chair and took me over to a massage table the he lowered to about 2 feet off the trading floor. Laying me down on my breadbasket with my head word through the expression interface he proceeded to touch base my bounds hands to the leg of the table. second later I felt straps binding my knees together and then more straps binding my articulatio talocruralis together and finally strapping my substructure down to the table. Boots then took a pillow and doubling it up, forced it under my hips. I wasn't ready for the first slap to my ass and I jumped… but moaned. It wasn't hard enough to hurt but enough to make me squirm. Five slaps later he stopped. It was then I felt him straddle the table and my stage. My ass was the sodding height for his still rock hard cock. And it was then, it that beautiful prone position that I learned the meaning of a savage ass. He was in and out of me in a most brutal, and pleasurable fashion. I couldn't William Tell if it was infliction or pleasure, but I was in no locating to blockade it.

After about five minutes of this, he stopped, and began removing the straps to my wooden leg. He rolled me over onto my back with my mitt still above my psyche. Untying my pegleg he folded me over so my knees were toward my shoulders. Then he sank that cock back into my ass, driving it to the understructure 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 second later it was blowing…. More than I'd ever blown… and right into my undefended mouth. Moments later the boot pulled out of my ass and blew his entire, full moon encumbrance, straight into my unfold oral fissure. He dropped my legs down and draw me to record him my rima oris wide-cut of seed and then swallow every drib. Again… more pleasant than not. He sent me to the exhibitor in the back and had me clean up. When I came back out dressed, he was dressed too. set to go, as if nothing ever happened. He suggested I return within two workweek to hold open the hair looking good and suggested that Saturday, at 3:00 PM was always a good time to come. It was a great summer.. and my hair looked great .