My morning glory greeted me again with its familiar, throbbing urgency as I attained consciousness one glorious Tuesday morning. Mindlessly pumping my cock furiously in an attempt to give myself some relief was my first instinct, as usual.
I judiciously set about my regular vigorous masturbatory session.
It quickly became apparent that I would need to employ the tactic of concentrating on a past erotic memory in order to produce a positive result. This was indeed the approach that I successfully employed. In no time at all the recollection of having my cock sucked by grandad's best friend had me whipping back my duvet just in time to witness a quite excessive spurt liberally covering my hairless chest.
After I had wiped the condensation from the mirror, following my usual quick shower, I gazed at my reflection in the mirror. My reflection's honest appraisal of my appearance agreed my own inner feelings. I looked pretty scruffy. What I needed was a haircut to smarten myself up a bit.
I had noticed on many occasions a local hairdresser's shop just around the corner from where I currently resided. I had nothing much to do this fine Tuesday morning, so I went along to get myself a trim.
The place was deserted, so waiting wasn't called for. I was immediately ushered into a vacant chair and was set about with a water spray.
It appeared I was being treated to a Men's Dry Cut. What the water signified I do not know. I was in an Asian men's hair salon, so I decided to give myself up to the experience -- when in Rome, and all that.
The young man who was ministering to my needs was wearing one of these gown thingies, and a little cap.