The other night I went to a nearby mall for a hair cut. It was about 4:30 and I had about two and a half hours before the hockey game. I went up to the counter and the receptionist said,
"Do you have a preference for hair stylist?"
I told her I didn't so she escorted to me to a man who was between 35 and 50 and went by the name of Roger. He was a tall man who was not bad looking.
I sat down, he put the covering over me, and we discussed the type of haircut I wanted. He said that he was going to do this in three steps: Trim a little bit, wash and dry my hair, and finish the job. Really, all I was looking for was a trim, but I thought I should let him do his job. We chit-chatted about a lot of stuff but mostly about sports. He was a Patriots fan and I am a Cowboys fan, but at least we were both Ottawa Senators fans.
I really liked this guy because he was so friendly and gentle. At the time I thought nothing of it, but he had a tendency to keep his hand on my head a little longer than I thought he should. I also noticed that he would sometimes hold his open hand on my neck as if he were caressing it. Because we both hit it off so nicely, I didn't think much of it and it didn't bother me at all.
It seemed like he was in no hurry to give me a trim because he would often stand in front of my chair and stare at me while he was cutting my hair. He had a captivating smile and a pleasant speaking voice.
The chair I was in was like a captain's chair with arms on both sides. At one time, I had my hands on the arm of the chair when he leaned into me to cut some hair. As I did, his lower body touched my hand and I was sure I could feel his cock touching me. If that's what it was, it felt pretty good. I didn't move my hand because I didn't want it to be too obvious. However, when he went around the other side of the chair, the same thing happened.
"Sorry, Bud." was all he said.
I looked at him in the mirror and said, "No problem," and when I did, I saw a slight smile come across his face. Just as we were about to begin washing my hair, my cell phone rang.
"I'm sorry, Sir, but do you mind if I take that call?" I asked him. He said it was okay because he had to get the sink ready. The call was from my hockey buddy who said he couldn't go to the game tonight because both his wife and one of his kids have been puking all day with the flu. I told him that it was no problem because I could find someone to take the ticket.
When I walked over to the sink he asked if there was a problem. I told him the story; and all of a sudden it hit me: Why don't I ask him to come to the game with me. I asked him and he said he would be happy to.
I got in the chair and leaned back to have my head washed. As I did, he leaned into me again and this time, his crotch was just about in line with my head. I looked sideway and could see the outline of his cock which was not yet hard but it looked quite sizable. I hadn't realized it, but I was licking my lips while I was staring at it. I'm not gay but I did want to have more of his cock. He washed my hair and kept moving his dick back and forth across my shoulder. It felt pretty good.
We went back to the barber chair and he continued his clipping. I had my hand at the end of the arm of the chair and he leaned into me so that his dick was touching my hand. Thinking that it was the right thing to do, I slowly moved my hand back and forth and put a little pressure against him.
"H-m-m-m. I like that," he said
"So do I," was all I could say.