All of us dislike certain things. But we dislike some things more than others and in most cases we don't really know why we dislike those things.
I dislike going to the barber's to get my hair cut. It is not that I don't like trimmed hair. On the contrary: I always like to keep my hair cut neatly. It reflects on my character, I think. I am by nature a neat person and I pride myself for that. You might say: what a stupid thing to dislike, and why bother. Well, I don't know. I just do.
My name is Roger. I am a fit 32-year-old gay male. Also I am single. This is not because of lack of opportunity for finding a lasting partner since I can claim that I am quite handsome at 194 cm and 72 kg. I have a trimmed goatee and green-brown eyes with regular features. I work as a chief accountant and I lead a somewhat serene life on my own. Most of all, I value my independence.
My sexual encounters have been just that: encounters. The longest of these lasted a little more than two weeks. I just can't sustain a longer relationship with any one man.
Except for now?
Two weeks ago, I decided to overcome my dislike of getting a haircut and visit my barber's. He is actually a genial 50-something man who keeps a tidy and quiet business. I can endure the haircut because Alberto, the barber, doesn't talk much. He goes about his business without much ado. In and out. I think: Does this reflect my sex life also?
This time, however, I was pleasantly surprised when I walked into Alberto's place. He had apparently hired a young guy to help out with the shampooing and drying. I usually don't like to prolong my stay and prefer for Alberto to finish his job so I could go home and shower. But when I saw the new guy, I opted for the shampoo immediately. Eduardo, the new boy, was perhaps in his late teens or early twenties. I couldn't tell because of the guy's lanky body. But his strong point was in his dark Italian skin and his piercing eyes.
He returned my gaze, not insolently, but in a kind of a lazy way, like as if he was thinking: interesting but...
So I sat in the shampooing chair at the sink and leaned back for Eduardo to start washing my hair before the cutting. He stood right next to my head and I couldn't resist turning around a little and watch his crotch in jeans. There was a bulge, but instead of bulging outwards like a usual man package, I could see the outline of his dick downwards and sideways. He couldn't have been wearing undies, I supposed. But he looked delicious and it took a very strong will on my part to resist leaning and pressing my lips against it.
"You're new here, Eduardo," I said, stating the obvious, as he massaged my scalp.
"Yes, sir," he said smiling. He had fucking dimples!
"I'm Roger," I managed to say to keep the conversation going, straining my eyes to look up to see his handsome face.
Eduardo didn't answer and I moved my eyes back to the very close and enticing crotch, staring me in the face. I sighed.
As Eduardo was massaging my scalp, I felt as if he moved an inch closer. I could feel the heat of his body, and I started erecting. Thankfully, my front was covered with a towel. Eduardo finished shampooing and started rinsing off the soap. He reached for the tap across from me, having to lean, and his crotch pressed slightly on my shoulder. Instinctively, I shivered. I think I might have pressed back a little because I felt man meat against my shoulder.
Eduardo finished and I moved to the other chair for Alberto to cut my hair.
I was thinking: was this for real? Could this kid have been coming on to me? How did he know that I liked men? That I loved cock? Or was it just an accident? But I did push back, didn't I? I did feel the bulging crotch against my shoulder. I did shiver. Oh, how I shivered.
I tried my best not to look at this hunk of a young male for too long. It had been a while since I had sex. And now this hot stud was available for me? No way! This was all in my imagination. I needed not be carried away by my fantasies. I needed to get laid, that's for sure, or my fantasies would get me into trouble.
"Do you need to shampoo your hair after the cutting, Mr. Roger?" Eduardo said, shaking me awake from my reveries.
Normally I would have declined, preferring to shower at home. But when I looked towards Eduardo and saw him leaning so sexily against the sink, I weakened. Maybe this way I could test if he was really interested or not.
"That's a good idea, Eduardo," I smiled, noticing that my voice was turning husky.
My barber had an incredulous look on his face since I had never accepted to have my hair shampooed before even though he insisted on asking me every time. Was I intending to take some initiative with Eduardo? No, I wouldn't dare, as much as I was dying to. What if the brushing of Eduardo's crotch on my shoulder had just been an accident? I would be in much embarrassment if I tried something and nothing came out of it.
In my peripheral vision I thought I saw Eduardo touch himself, down there, very lightly, very discretely. My heart skipped a beat. I must have been imagining things. My sick mind must have been working overtime.
On shaky legs, I moved to the seat next to the sink and lay back, my head hanging over the sink. Eduardo ran the water and started to soap. Sure enough, I felt the light pressure against my shoulder. My heart raced. I didn't move away. How could I? Did I feel some throbbing? Was Eduardo getting an erection? Is it again my overexcited imagination?
But Eduardo didn't move away either. As he shampooed, he pressed a little bit more, and, yes, I did feel his cock. I know how cocks felt against my body. I wasn't a novice at this. So this time I was sure. I pressed back. There was an unmistakable intake of breath coming from Eduardo.
I felt the door to the barber's door open and another customer walked in. As Alberto got busy with the new man, Eduardo, now definitely humping my shoulder, bent over and whispered: "I do a mean massage, Mr. Roger. If you are interested, that is."
My heart raced faster. Would I allow this to happen? I was pretty sure that Eduardo meant more than a massage. I made up my mind, my resistance totally waning.
"Tonight. At 7. My place," I whispered back, unable to force back the emergency in my voice.
With a final and decided press at my shoulder, Eduardo wrapped my head with a towel and started to rub dry my hair. Before leaving, after I paid Alberto for the haircut, very discretely, I pressed one of my cards with my address on it into Eduardo's palm, as if tipping him.
It's almost 7 o'clock now. Will the kid come over? I am almost certain that he will. I am looking forward to some hot stuff this evening. I already am sporting a semi-erection. I have showered and cleaned myself thoroughly. In anticipation? Oh, yes!