Some years ago I had moved to a new town, and had settled upon a new Barber shop to get my hair done. A group of friendly, mostly Turkish guys, always did a good job of my regular haircuts.
It didn't usually matter which one of them it was: Sometimes I'd get the older guy, sometimes the shorter, friendly one, other times a younger, tall, dark, slim and handsome looking guy. I'd got there on a quiet afternoon to find he was the only barber there, and there were no other customers. "Hi!" he said, as he ushered me into the chair and covered me with a cape as I sat down.
I put my arms on the armrests of the chair as usual as he got to work, cutting my hair, working this way and that. Occasionally we'd make eye contact in the mirror, make the usual smalltalk.
It was then I noticed it. As he was cutting my hair, he'd press his crotch right against my hand, which was over the end of the armrest. At first, I thought it must have been accidental, and paid little attention to it. Then his "accidental" brushes of his crotch on my hand seemed longer... more deliberate...firmer as I could feel a soft warmth of whatever was inside his pants...tantalisingly out of view, but very much there, judging by the bulge he enjoyed pressing against my hand.
No words were said, but we would occasionally exchange glances in the mirror as he cut my hair... and found more opportunities to press his crotch into my hand. Was he....making a move on me? Had I got this wrong?... What should I do?" I noticed a slight grin on his face, and smiled a little back. Then I got the courage.... I started to move my hand... ever so slightly... the next time he landed his crotch against it. This time he stayed there and moved up and down. "okay" I thought. "He's definitely responding to that" as I felt the unmistakable outline and warmth of his cock.
At that point we were interrupted, as one of his colleagues returned. He quickly pulled away, hiding a noticeable bulge. I too had grown a big bulge in my shorts, but this was all hidden under the barber's cape.
I went back a few times after that to get my hair cut. He wouldn't try anything if anyone else was around, but if I got lucky and picked a quiet afternoon, he'd be there on his own and his little "crotch/hand game" would commence. I'd get extremely hard, feeling and trying to imagine what was in his pants... would he ever take it further? I would fantasise about going into the back with him, pulling off each others clothes and... seeing where that went.
The last time I saw him, we'd been enjoying our little horny ritual, and another customer entered the shop. He stopped, but under the cape, I was very erect and leaking a bit. (I think he knew, as he'd often pull the cape off me as soon as he'd brushed the hair away, to reveal the bulge in my shorts.) I had thought the game was over... but then he put a little oil on my hair and gave me an amazing head massage. Nothing so unusual as they often did this to work the oil in. But he carried on for much longer than usual, working his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp. I was so horned up and hard, and this was just making me even hornier, like electric signals straight from my head to my cock.
"Wait!... no!.... could it be? No!... what!....how....?" I thought, as I felt the familiar feeling in my cock, which was by now fully hard and desperate to escape the tent in my white shorts, hidden under the cape. As he massaged my head, I realised there wasn't much I could do to stop what was inevitably about to happen, as I reached the point of no return and felt my cock pulsating as it unloaded a full load into my shorts. Fuck! I let out a little gasp which I tried to disguise as a cough. But judging by the way I'd squirmed in the chair and the look he gave me, I figured he knew what had just happened. He left me there a bit, covered with the cape, as he talked to the other customer and got him seated. "Be with you in just a minute..." he said, handing me the usual wad of tissues he usually gave me to get the hair out of my neck.
It was an incredibly horny time, but for some reason, I never saw him again after that. Perhaps he left town, got a new job? Don't know what happened to him. I still go to the same barbers shop though, and often get quite hard thinking about his little game.
It didn't usually matter which one of them it was: Sometimes I'd get the older guy, sometimes the shorter, friendly one, other times a younger, tall, dark, slim and handsome looking guy. I'd got there on a quiet afternoon to find he was the only barber there, and there were no other customers. "Hi!" he said, as he ushered me into the chair and covered me with a cape as I sat down.
I put my arms on the armrests of the chair as usual as he got to work, cutting my hair, working this way and that. Occasionally we'd make eye contact in the mirror, make the usual smalltalk.
It was then I noticed it. As he was cutting my hair, he'd press his crotch right against my hand, which was over the end of the armrest. At first, I thought it must have been accidental, and paid little attention to it. Then his "accidental" brushes of his crotch on my hand seemed longer... more deliberate...firmer as I could feel a soft warmth of whatever was inside his pants...tantalisingly out of view, but very much there, judging by the bulge he enjoyed pressing against my hand.
No words were said, but we would occasionally exchange glances in the mirror as he cut my hair... and found more opportunities to press his crotch into my hand. Was he....making a move on me? Had I got this wrong?... What should I do?" I noticed a slight grin on his face, and smiled a little back. Then I got the courage.... I started to move my hand... ever so slightly... the next time he landed his crotch against it. This time he stayed there and moved up and down. "okay" I thought. "He's definitely responding to that" as I felt the unmistakable outline and warmth of his cock.
At that point we were interrupted, as one of his colleagues returned. He quickly pulled away, hiding a noticeable bulge. I too had grown a big bulge in my shorts, but this was all hidden under the barber's cape.
I went back a few times after that to get my hair cut. He wouldn't try anything if anyone else was around, but if I got lucky and picked a quiet afternoon, he'd be there on his own and his little "crotch/hand game" would commence. I'd get extremely hard, feeling and trying to imagine what was in his pants... would he ever take it further? I would fantasise about going into the back with him, pulling off each others clothes and... seeing where that went.
The last time I saw him, we'd been enjoying our little horny ritual, and another customer entered the shop. He stopped, but under the cape, I was very erect and leaking a bit. (I think he knew, as he'd often pull the cape off me as soon as he'd brushed the hair away, to reveal the bulge in my shorts.) I had thought the game was over... but then he put a little oil on my hair and gave me an amazing head massage. Nothing so unusual as they often did this to work the oil in. But he carried on for much longer than usual, working his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp. I was so horned up and hard, and this was just making me even hornier, like electric signals straight from my head to my cock.
"Wait!... no!.... could it be? No!... what!....how....?" I thought, as I felt the familiar feeling in my cock, which was by now fully hard and desperate to escape the tent in my white shorts, hidden under the cape. As he massaged my head, I realised there wasn't much I could do to stop what was inevitably about to happen, as I reached the point of no return and felt my cock pulsating as it unloaded a full load into my shorts. Fuck! I let out a little gasp which I tried to disguise as a cough. But judging by the way I'd squirmed in the chair and the look he gave me, I figured he knew what had just happened. He left me there a bit, covered with the cape, as he talked to the other customer and got him seated. "Be with you in just a minute..." he said, handing me the usual wad of tissues he usually gave me to get the hair out of my neck.
It was an incredibly horny time, but for some reason, I never saw him again after that. Perhaps he left town, got a new job? Don't know what happened to him. I still go to the same barbers shop though, and often get quite hard thinking about his little game.