I know that I work too hard, but I can't stop myself. Friends tell me I should find a partner and slow down instead of working all the time. They also tell me that they don't understand why I can't attract a man to share my life, but I don't think I'm that great a catch, in spite of what they say.
I'm 32 years old, medium build, sandy brown hair, blue eyes, reasonably fit and healthy, but nothing special. My best features are probably my bum and my cock, which is a chunky 7incher. They both get me some attention at the gym or on the beach.
This holiday has been a long time coming. I've been working right up until the day before, which meant I just threw some things in a bag and set off, deciding that I could buy anything I was missing in the resort.
After we landed on the island, the taxi quickly drove me to the small resort and I got my first look at the hotel.
Sandra, my friend and travel agent, had assured me it was a very good hotel in a quiet village, which is just what I needed to relax.
The hotel was charming, beautifully decorated and the reception staff were very friendly. My room was spacious with a large balcony overlooking the beach.
After I'd unpacked, I sat out there with the complimentary wine that I'd found in the fridge and enjoyed the late afternoon sun, till it was time to freshen up for dinner.
In the restaurant I was shown to a table set for one by the window and I'd barely glanced at the menu, when a tall handsome man, in a dark suit, approached and held out his hand
"Good evening, I am Jose, the restaurant manager. Your friend, Sandra, sent me a message to expect you. Anything you need during your stay, just ask me."
It's a benefit having a well connected travel agent for a friend.
I stood up and shook his hand
"Thankyou. There is one thing you can help me with. Before I left, I didn't have time to get a haircut. Is there a barber in the village?"
"Unfortunately no, you need to go to the next town. I have a friend there who is an excellent barber. I can phone for you, if you want."
I agreed and he went straight off to do that, while I ordered my dinner.
I was halfway through my starter, when Jose returned.
"Antonio will make time for you tomorrow morning, if that is convenient?"
That suited me just fine, so went to confirm.
I watched him walk away and thought what a lovely man he was, good looking too, with his dark Spanish looks. He wore a wedding ring, but I wondered if he played around, like many continental men did. It was difficult to tell as he was being very professional.
Next morning, I took the bus along the coast and following Jose's directions, found Antonio's barber shop.
Inside, the shop was very smart, with a large leather couch and three barber's chairs. There were also a couple of sinks at the back.
A small, dark haired man rushed forward to greet me.
"Good morning, I am Antonio. Jose asked me to look after you."
I studied him as he hung up my jacket.
He was maybe in his 40s, with a neatly trimmed beard and friendly dark eyes. He wore black trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, that showed off his lean muscular forearms, which were covered in smooth black hair.
He fussed around me, as he wrapped me in a gown and settled me at one of the sinks.
I started to relax as he washed my hair and massaged the lather into my scalp, before rinsing slowly, gently running his hands through my hair.
In the barber's chair, his hand caressed my scalp and neck, as he moved my head to the position he wanted and his twinkling eyes occasionally met mine in the mirror, when he was checking if something was alright. This was turning out to be a pleasant experience and I had the beginnings of an erection under the gown.
While he continued to cut my hair, I tried to read the price list in Spanish beside the mirror, but could only work out a few of them. I did know that 'masaje' in Spanish meant massage, so I asked Antonio
"You do massage here also?" hoping that it would be him who was the masseur.
"Yes, I am also a masseur, but there is only me today, so cannot leave the shop."
I was disappointed
"That's a pity. I have been stressed at work and a massage would have helped me to relax."
He apologised and continued with the haircut, but I could see him studying me in the mirror.
At the end when I had paid and was about to go, Antonio said
"Take a seat for a moment and I will make a call. A massage might be possible."
A conversation took place in rapid Spanish, with much gesticulating, then Antonio came over.
