Barbershop Duet

By K. Nitsua / Keybedder

Published on Oct 16, 2005

Gay

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BARBERSHOP DUET by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2005 by the author.

I never get a haircut until I absolutely have to. I don't like waiting, or making small talk with some blonde with teased hair who's only being nice to me because she's hoping for a big tip.

But it was constantly falling in my face, and I could even feel it weighing down on my head. It was time to go.

Fortunately I had a day off, so I went after lunch, when it wasn't crowded. When I walked in the shop cool air hit my face. No one was there except the cashier and one haircutter who I hadn't seen there before, standing by his chair. He looked up and smiled.

"Ah, a customer." He was a cute young Latino, his hair dark, his skin olive. He had a pair of huge brown eyes with long lashes. Things were looking up.

"Have a seat." He gestured to the chair.

"Don't mind if I do." I sat down with a sigh, letting my eyes close.

"My name's Chris, and I'll be taking care of you. Now," he said, bending toward me, holding the tissue he was going to put around my neck before covering me with the bib, "To put this on I'll have to undo your button."

My top button was already open. Just as I realized this I felt gentle fingers unfastening the next button down, tickling my chest. My eyes flew open and I found myself looking into his smoky brown orbs. He was leaning close to my face, a slight smile on his full lips. A tingle raced through my body and settled in my crotch.

"So," Chris said, tucking the covering into my collar, "How do you want it?"

My mouth curled into a smile. Two could play this game.

"Me, I like it long and hard. Oh," I said, pretending to be surprised. "You meant my hair."

Chris laughed. "Yeah, your hair."

I told him how I liked it for real this time, and he set to work. He was good at flirting, but Chris was even better at cutting hair. The scissors and clippers danced in his hands. He didn't talk much. He didn't have to. His occasional touch on my hair or neck sent shivers running through me. We made eye contact several times and each time a spark jumped between us. Before I knew it I had a perfect haircut, Chris was brushing the excess off my shirt, and I was ready to blow a load from the erotic vibes in the air.

"How's it look?" Chris asked, offering me a mirror so I could look at the back. I barely glanced at myself.

"Fine, " I said. I let my lips shape a quick kiss, visible only to him. He didn't react.

"Yeah, looks fine to me too. Okay, you're done, man. Pay at the front."

I felt as if he suddenly had poured cold water on me. Was it all just a game to get a big tip? I stood up, frustrated and a little bit angry. As I paid the cashier I thought about just leaving. Still, my hair looked great and I couldn't stiff someone for flirting with me. I took two ones out of my wallet and walked back over to his chair.

Chris took the money, thanked me and put it in a box he had on the counter. When he turned back he had a business card.

"Come back soon, man," he said, his voice cool and impersonal.

So that was it. "Thanks," I said. I took the card and stalked out. It wasn't until I was in the parking lot about to get into my car that I looked down at it.

His name was printed in the middle: "Chris Moreno, professional stylist." Below it were a few words, scrawled in ballpoint pen.

"I'm closing tonite at nine. Come by if you can. You're hot. Chris."

I stood there, a grin spreading over my face.

It was dark when I came back at nine, a warm summer evening. The lights were still on in the salon, but the chairs were empty. I pushed open the door and walked in. Immediately Chris appeared from somewhere in back. He grinned from ear to ear when he saw me, showing a dazzling set of white teeth.

"Hey, it's you."

He'd discarded the smock he wore while at work, and had on jeans and a black tee that showed off his sculpted chest, flat stomach, and bulging biceps. I shrugged, trying to stay casual.

"You said come by at nine."

"I didn't think you'd read the card. I'm glad you're here." He came up to me, standing close so I could feel the heat of his tight body, the warmth of his breath on my face. "I have a few more things to do to close up. Can you wait a few?"

I locked eyes with him, just like when I had been getting the haircut that afternoon. "I don't know," I said, letting doubt creep into my voice. "I don't like to wait."

He frowned. "Aw, please?" A sly look. "I am so worth it."

I laughed. "Guess I'll find out." I moved toward one of the barber chairs, but he stopped me and pointed toward the rear of the store.

"There's a private salon in the back."

"Good idea." I walked back, turned and found myself in a smaller room with one padded chair, a washbasin, and a large mirror on one wall surrounded by bright makeup lights. We could put on quite a show here. A wild idea came into my head, and before I lost my nerve I began unbuttoning my shirt. In a minute I was stark naked, my clothes and shoes in a heap on the floor. My heart was racing and I couldn't stop smiling. I sat in the chair facing the mirror and looked at my buff bod, stroked my stiff cock, and waited.

Not for long. In another minute Chris's form appeared in the doorway behind me.

"All done. Sorry-Oh, shit!"

I'd spun the chair around to face him. Chris's eyes flicked down and practically popped out of his head.

"Like I said, I'm not into waiting," I told him.

His laugh rang out as he came toward me. "Neither am I, man," he said, and pressed his lips to mine. We tongue wrestled for a long, sweet moment before he broke away and fell to his knees. He grabbed my rod and took it into his mouth, blowing me in long, slippery, slurpy strokes. I watched him work, running one hand through his hair, moaning softly when he reached up and tweaked my nipples.

"Mm, nice."

"You're telling me," Chris said, taking a breather. "Man, you are built." He took my cock and inspected it, then chuckled. "Long and hard, just like you said."

"This is a full service salon, right?"

"Oh yeah."

"Then hop to it. Turn around and bend over."

He smirked as he obeyed. "Yes, sir."

I reached around in front and undid his jeans and belt buckle. When I slid the denims off his slim waist, the crack of his ass slid into view-he wasn't wearing anything underneath. In another moment my face was buried between his cheeks as my tongue found its prize. He moaned as I let it dart and flicker in and out of his tender hole.

"Oh fuck, yeah, open me up. Get it ready, man."

"Ready for what?" I asked, teasing him.

"Asshole. You know what I want."

"You got it. Lose those jeans."

I reached back and grabbed a handy bottle of hair gel that stood on the counter. I squeezed out a handful and greased my pole as he turned around. His uncut meat stood stiff at attention-it wasn't huge, but he had great balls, low hangers swinging in a rosy sack underneath his coal-black pubes. Dressed only in his tight black top he was a mouth-watering sight.

"So how do you want it?" Chris asked, grinning.

I chuckled at his reference to our meeting earlier that day. "I'm the customer, and I ain't getting up from this chair."

His brown eyes danced. "Well then-"

I held my breath as he straddled the barber chair, throwing his legs over the arms, grabbing my shoulder with one hand to steady himself as he took my slick shaft and guided it to his waiting hole. One shove downward and I was buried in him to the root. A wail rose from his throat.

"Take it easy, man," I said, concerned.

He shook his head, smiling through the pain. "No, I like this way. Your monster prick splitting me open. Oh yes." He began to raise and lower his body, fucking himself on my pole, sending shocks of pleasure through me with each stroke. Our eyes met and I saw his satisfied nod. Technically I might have been the top, but Chris was in charge and he knew it-he could see it in my face. All I could do was thrust my hips up to meet his butt, a grunt escaping me every time I slammed into him.

"Fuck you're tight," I said. I hiked up his t-shirt so I could see his abs working, flicked my tongue out to taste a nipple on his smooth brown chest.

"Mm hmm," Chris said, his eyes closed in his upturned face as he rode my cock, increasing the speed of his downstrokes. "Fucking hot. Dame tu pinga en mi culo caliente. Yeah. Fuck me."

I got one foot down on the floor and spun the chair around so I was facing the mirror again. I looked over Chris's shoulder at the mirror and saw his ass in my lap, my shaft shiny with hair gel sliding in and out between the perfect half moons of his cheeks. My balls were swinging madly from the force of our rutting. It was the most erotic sight I'd ever seen.

"Faster, man, faster," Chris urged.

I tried to protest. "No, not yet."

"Yes. Now!" With that he put his mouth to mine and stepped up the pace of his thrusts. The hot kiss pushed me over the edge. I broke away and jerked my head up, letting out a strangled "Unhh!" as liquid fire raced up from my balls, out my cock, and into Chris's bowels in hot gushes. "Oh fuck I'm cumming!"

"Do it!" His own hand was a blur on his cock. All of a sudden jets of cum shot up between us, hitting his face, hitting my face, staining his top with warm gray splotches. Our gasps and groans filled the air. Finally we started to come down from our sexual high.

"That was amazing," I said.

"Glad you enjoyed it," Chris said, pulling off his soiled shirt and wiping cum off his face with it. "Listen, man, we've got to get out of here. I locked up, but mall security comes by half an hour after closing to check."

In record time we were cleaned up, dressed, and standing on the sidewalk outside the salon, now closed for real. Well, sort of dressed. My clothes were a wrinkled mess, and Chris was shirtless. He'd buried his cum-stained top in the bottom of the laundry hamper, under a pile of used smocks.

Chris said, "So, thanks for coming by."

"Thanks for inviting me." There was an awkward pause. "Do I get to see you again?"

He smiled and shrugged. "You got my business card. I'll cut your hair any time, man."

The wall had come down, just like it had that afternoon. For the second time that day I was confused and angry.

"Fine." I wheeled around and walked toward my car. When I got there I looked back. Chris was getting into a sporty red convertible some distance away. I unlocked the door, got behind the wheel, and took a few deep breaths. Just another trick. Let it go.

After a while the emptiness inside receded. I squared my shoulders, put the key in the ignition, and started the engine. I'd just started backing out when a car squealed to a halt directly behind me. I slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid hitting it.

It was a red convertible.

A door slammed and a figure came racing toward the driver's side. I hit the button to lower the window.

Chris stuck his head in, still bare-chested. "Barry. You're still here."

I shrugged, though my heart was racing.

"Okay, you win. I don't usually date customers, but-want to follow me to my place? Get to know each other a little?"

I wanted to shout for joy, but I restrained myself. "That'd be cool, man."

Chris looked serious. "I can't promise how this'll turn out. You okay with that?"

"Fine with me." I leaned forward and kissed him. "You are so worth it."

He laughed. "You're learning." His head disappeared. A moment later I heard an engine roar and the red convertible moved forward. I smiled as I backed my car out and followed him. I didn't know what the future held with my new Latin lover, but I knew it wasn't going to be dull. And my hair was going to look great.

END

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