R. F. Lange
Vinnie looked himself over in the mirror.
He needed to do something about all that hair.
“So what we doin’ for ya, pal?” the barber asked, eyeing Vinnie’s naked body.
He was a big man, older, with a handlebar mustache and long hair pulled into a ponytail behind his head. Vinnie felt weird letting another guy look at him like this. It reminded him of all those physicals he had to endure in high school before he could play sports.
But what choice did he have?
Tonight was his first real date with Ziva, and something might happen. Vinnie had been picking up all the right signs up until the night they kissed for the first time. Ziva’s lips had crushed to his. Her tongue making laps around his mouth. Vinnie knew she could feel his cock swelling against her. Ziva didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she began grinding her hips against the growing bulge in Vinnie’s pants, her breath heavy as they kissed.
She seemed as ready to fuck as Vinnie was…until she reached under his shirt and felt the coarse hair dappling his chest.
Ziva hated body hair.
“Want me to leave the two of you alone?” the barber laughed at the way Vinnie looked at himself in the mirror. “What’s it gonna be buddy? A trim or a shave.”
Vinnie eyed his body hair. The way it spread across his chest, trickled down the flat of his belly, collecting in a tangled black mound around his cock.
“Take it all.”
“You’re the boss,” the barber said. “Take a seat.”
Vinnie sat in the barber chair, unable to get comfortable despite the chair’s recline. He shifted on the cool leather beneath him. The hot towel the barber placed over his chest was a welcome relief. Vinnie tried to relax.
He hadn’t been sure what to expect going to a place called Manscapes. His buddy Jon had suggested it to him after Vinnie told him about his misadventure with Ziva.
“You’ve got to check this place out,” Jon said, pulling the lip of his running shorts down to show Vinnie his smooth-shaven crotch. “I don’t even try to shave my own pubes anymore. Fuck that.”
Vinnie had tried once to shave his own pubic hair. Between irritated skin, razor burn, and the itchiness, Vinnie decided never again.
That was before Ziva…
Now that he was here, Vinnie watched as the barber looked over his tools. He breathed a sigh of relief when the man chose the electric clippers. The straight razor on the wall looked like something from Sweeny Todd.
The barber removed the towel from Vinnie’s chest and laid it flat over his lap, and Vinnie was grateful for the reprieve of modesty.
“So first time letting a guy shave you down, huh?”
He was basting a warm, fragrant shave cream onto Vinnie’s damp chest with broad strokes.
Vinnie shifted in the chair. “That noticeable?”
The barber laughed. “Relax, pal. You’re not the first guy to wander in here needing his coin purse trimmed. That’s why I started this place to begin with. Women have places they can go to get waxed and shaved for their partners. Men don’t have as many options. So what brings you in today?”
He wiped his hand on a towel hanging over his shoulder and started the clippers. Vinnie jumped at the buzz that filled the barber shop.
“There’s this girl…”
The barber barked a laugh. “Ha! Isn’t there always?”
Vinnie’s eyes were glued to the clippers as the barber lowered them to his chest. The vibrations sent goose bumps exploding up and down his arms and legs as the barber sheered a swath of cream from his chest in a thick landing strip.
Smooth flesh soon peeked through the remnants of the frothy shave cream where a few moments before his chest hair had stood dark and matted. As the clippers trailed down his belly, Vinnie gave himself over to the goose bumps, the barber’s steady hands. He was surprised how relaxing it was to let someone else shave him.
The clippers cut off.
“Can I get you to spread your legs for me, buddy?” the barber asked, hiking the chair higher off the floor.
Vinnie’s face heated.
He’d never let another dude anywhere close to his junk before.
Vinnie’s heart was banging against his chest as he let his legs slide over the sides of the chair to dangle loosely above the floor. The barber snagged the wet towel from his lap. Beneath it, the nest of pubic hair below his waist was mangled and damp. The barber combed his fingers through it.
Vinnie felt himself go rigid, fingers digging in to the arms of the barber chair.
“Relax, pal,” the barber grumbled. “Don’t need you jerkin’ around when I’m so close to your personables.”
The clippers hummed to life again, tearing through the male hair beneath Vinnie’s waistline. Vinnie tried not to flinch—to relax, as the barber said—but the barber’s steady fingers were suddenly on his cock. Feeling it up. Pushing it this way and that as the clippers mowed off the thickest tufts of hair from Vinnie’s crotch.
Sweat beaded on his forehead when the barber lifted his sack, exposing the hair on Vinnie’s taint.
Vinnie gripped the arms of the chair again. He’d never felt more vulnerable in his life. All the same, the vibrations from the clippers sent an electric jolt of pleasure through him that surprised him. Goose bumps rippled across his skin. Vinnie was mortified to feel himself getting hard in the barber’s hands. He laid his head back and crushed his eyes shut, trying to will his thickening cock soft again.
The barber worked in silence, saying nothing of the erection between Vinnie’s legs. When he was finished he stood up to examine his work.
Vinnie opened his eyes, looking down at the hard-on jutting conspicuously between his thighs. He was surprised by how much bigger it looked. A thin layer of stubble remained where a mess of male pubic hair had been just a moment before.
“Almost done,” the barber said.
He laid the clippers down, reaching for something that made Vinnie’s adrenaline spike—the straight razor.
The barber eyed the tool, running a thumb carefully along the blade’s edge as if to test the sharpness. Folding the razor in on itself, the barber set it aside as he applied more shave cream to the stubble between Vinnie’s legs.
Vinnie’s cock was almost throbbing, it was so hard. He could only watch as the barber tugged down on it like an obscene gear shift, flattening the skin of his pelvis. A thick drop of fluid pearled at the tip.
“Shit!” Vinnie blurted. “Sorry man.”
The barber swiped the towel across Vinnie’s wet head and threw the towel back over his shoulder.
“No worries, pal,” he said. “Lotta fellas don’t know what to expect when they come see me. Don’t know how good getting a haircut can feel…specially ‘tween the legs.” He chuckled. “Least ya didn’t shoot your wad all over my chair.”
Vinnie eyes went wide when the barber opened the straight razor again, the edge gleaming in the light.
“Now let’s finish you up and get you back to that girl you’re trying to impress.”
Vinnie’s hands clamped over the arms of the barber chair, eyes riveted on the barber’s hand as he moved the razor closer to Vinnie’s cock. Visions of mishaps and slip ups danced through his mind. His cock pulsed in the barber’s hands.
The barber ignored it, touching the razor’s edge to the base of Vinnie’s cock and giving the shaving cream one slow, methodical swipe.
The barber was right; Vinnie didn’t know what to expect.
Fireworks exploded all over his skin, his cock suddenly rigid. Somehow, the razor felt better than the clippers. The barber shaved another swath of stubble.
The sound came from somewhere deep in Vinnie’s throat. His fingers loosened on the arms of the chair.
“Told ya,” the barber smiled. “Feels good.”
Vinnie relaxed then, more so than he felt he’d relaxed in weeks. Nestling back in the barber’s chair, he watched the other man work. The soft, sure fist closing around his thick shaft. The scrape of the razor as the barber shaved him, working it down his pubis with long, steady strokes.
Vinnie felt a flutter in his groin at the barber’s hot hand on his cock. His own arousal by it all had startled and excited him at first. Now, for the first time in his life, Vinnie wondered if he could ever do it with another man. He closed his eyes and imagined holding the barber’s cock the way he held Vinnie’s. Stroking it. Opening his mouth and taking it down his…
Vinnie opened his eyes. The barber was cleaning the razor, returning it to its pristine sheen before hanging it back on the wall. He squirted some sort of masculine-smelling ointment on his hands and began massaging it into Vinnie’s chest, his stomach. Vinnie’s cock gave another awkward twitch when the barber reached between his legs again, massaging his newly smooth pubis.
“So what do ya think?” the barber asked, washing his hands. “Think that girl of yours’ll approve?”
Vinnie stood up. His knees felt weak, like he’d been sitting there for hours. Thankfully, his cock was going soft by the time he turned to look himself over in the mirror. He checked out his body, smooth and glistening. He looked more defined, somehow, his lean physique more muscular.
Vinnie smiled at himself in the mirror.
“I think so,” Vinnie said. “But even if she doesn’t, I feel great. Isn’t that what matters?”
The barber barked another laugh and slapped Vinnie on the shoulders. “Ha! Nothing else matters in the world, my friend.”