At Buccheri's Pt. 02

After my time at the barbershop, all that I could think about was Mario: his strong brown hands on me, the backs of them covered in dark hair, his barrel chest contained in the white tunic top. Mario had a full head of wavy dark salt and pepper hair, and his forearms were also swarthy and covered with hair.... He had been fully erect the whole time he gave me my haircut and shave and so was I!

Of course, as soon as I got back to my flat, I had my own still stiff cock out and quickly orgasmed while thinking of his hands all over me while in the barber chair. In the coming days he was my fantasy as I wanked, taking great pleasure in using the brilliantine pomade had sold me to slicken my cock as I came again and again. The lavender scent of the pomade combined with the smell of cum was an aphrodisiac to me. I found myself walking past the barbershop whenever I was nearby, but the windows were too reflective to see too far into the shop. I fantasized that he might step out onto the pavement for a cigarette allowing me a glance or a greeting.

Soon, two weeks had passed--the soonest I could reasonably get my hair cut again so I made a plan to call him and make an appointment. After all, I was almost out of pomade! His smooth, deep voice on the phone, with its odd mixed accent of Cockney and Italian assured me that he would be delighted to fit me in; Mario was expecting my call. We made a plan for me to come at 5:30--technically when the shop closed--and I would be his last appointment of the day.

The next day seemed to go on forever! I left work early in order to get back to my flat to change before my appointment. I put on a very formal dark suit with a pinstripe. It had a very tailored fit and came with a waistcoat. Bought at Oxfam for under 20 quid, it was from the late 30s and fit me perfectly. I white point collared shirt from Jermyn Street (also from Oxfam) and a vintage silk necktie completed my attire along with well-polished shoes and sheer silk socks. I added an antique silver pocket watch and chain and a silver link "slave" bracelet I had found in the Camden Market and of course, plenty of pomade. This was as Valentino as I could get. I studied myself in the looking glass.

Peering back at me was a man in his twenties--slender but well-formed with dark hair slicked back and a slight 5 o'clock shadow. While mostly Scottish, I did have distant Spanish ancestry that gave me a slight Mediterranean look. The pleated suit trousers had a very high waist as was typical of its time and the braces held them firmly against my crotch and bum. I carefully adjusted my package down the left leg of the trousers and in its slightly aroused state, there was no missing it. I had never had any complaints about my uncut, 7-inch meat but hoped it would stay down long enough for me to walk down the Finchley Road without attracting too much attention. I regretted changing into silk boxers as the feel of them as I walked was very arousing.

Mario was waiting for me at the shop, smiling as he took me in. He pulled down the shades in the front windows, put the closed sing in the door--which he locked--and removed my suit jacket which he hung up with great care, all the while taking in my backside with its high-waisted trousers clinging to my tight bum. Again, he ensconced me in the chair, spun me around to face the mirror and said "So, the Sheik returns". His strong hands were on my shoulders and this time I noticed that he was wearing a gold wedding band--how had I missed that last time? Mario asked if I wanted the usual shave and haircut.

"I want the works, provided you have the time. You probably need to get home to your wife?" I asked. "Oh, no" he smiled "tonight is her weekly Canasta game--she won't be home for hours". With that, Mario leaned down and lightly kissed my cheek, his stubble grating against my own. And so, the whole process started again--haircut, hot towel, shave but with no attempt at subterfuge. He openly caressed me as he worked and we quickly found each other's hard cocks, straining against their confinement.

When he had completed his tonsorial tasks, he again spun me towards the mirror and with a flourish removed the red polyester cape. "What do you think?" he asked. I thought that I could not stand another second of this, so I lifted up the front of his tunic and unbuttoned and unzipped the jeans he was wearing allowing his hard cock--tightly held in by his white briefs--to emerge. The briefs were next and there it was, a large, hard cock with a bulbous head, surrounded by bushy black pubes. Two heavy balls hung beneath in his hairy scrotum. He was about the same size as me but girthier. As I reached out to take hold of the object I had fantasized about for two weeks, I could hear traffic and pedestrians outside, just a few feet away, unaware of what was going on in the shaded barbershop.

As I began to rub the big cock Mario moaned and used his own hand to pull back his foreskin, revealing the bulbous head which was oozing precum. I quickly leaned over to lick it off, taking in the musky, manly smell of his crotch. As I took him into my mouth, Mario continued to moan, gently pushing his cock deeper and deeper into my mouth. Amazingly, I was able to take the whole thing, and I fondled his hairy balls while giving him the blowjob of a lifetime. All too soon I felt his balls contacting and his cock twitching as he shot load after load of cum into my mouth. I licked every drop from his still hard cock. Rising to my feet out of the barber chair I kissed his mouth--he tasted of mint and cigarettes, and I tasted of his cum.

Mario pushed me back down into the seat, my own hard cock tenting my trousers. "And now, my Latin Lover, it is my turn to take care of you...."