Night At Jack's
It's not often I treat myself to something I want. Much less things I need. Though being a creature of habit is simple and easy, spicing things up is a nice turn as well. But rather than going to a pub, even a slap up meal, I really wanted a haircut. I'd been hearing of a place by exclusive appointment only, run by a handsome man known as Jack. Since he bans phones on coming in, no one's gotten a decent picture of him and descriptions don't do justice.
Despite never meeting, I built a picture of him in my mind. I pictured him as a tall, well dressed fellow, strong body and big hands. Being a barber, I figure he had a fine head of hair and beard. Just making the picture made my stomach turn, and toes curl. God... I should stop getting turned on by mysterious men.
I didn't remember signing up but I apparently had for March of next year. So imagine my surprise when I received a call from Jack himself.
"Hello?"
"Is this Sellic Raener?"
"Yes. Who's this?"
"This is Jack from Royalty Barber. I had a cancellation and decided to do a holiday special for one lucky patron. Your name came up."
"You never do holiday specials. Not from what I've heard."
"It's part of business. You do unexpected things. So would you prefer morning, noon, or evening?"
As I thought on it, I felt chills sneak up on me. "What about after hours?"
There was a pause before I was greeted by a rich, warm laugh. "I usually don't. But for you, I'll make an exception."
I had the urge to squirm and did so suddenly. That's when I realized I had gotten rock solid. "I appreciate it. Nights are very free for me."
Another warm laugh from him and I went flush once more. "Come by taxi at 8:30 tomorrow. I'll have everything set up."
"Do I need to bring anything special?"
"Nothing necessarily. But dress comfortably. And be ready for anything."
"Alright then."
"See you soon Sellic."
Hanging up that call, I felt dazed walking in from my balcony. Sliding the door shut, my sweatpants were a tent of cloth and I cursed under my breath. My body was reacting as if I invited someone over for passionate fucking or someone had invited me to be used for cock worship. Why does a man I've never met make me feel so crazy?
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I underestimated how long the cab ride was. Right as I went to call, a car pulled up for me and insisted I hurry. You wouldn't think a haircut or shave would take an hour ride. With anticipation running through me, I had to fight back goosebumps and an already excited cock. As we pulled up, the driver told me to knock twice, pause, then twice more. Giving a nod, I nearly leapt out and paced to the door. Knocking as instructed, the door opened and a man was visible but veiled with dark shadow.
Gesturing me inside, I walked in and was swept into an even more sensitive mood.
Hearing the door close then lock, I started to look around where I was. The space was cozy, a vintage chair, large mirror and work station, older barbershop fodder like a working twirl pole, signage, and other nuance. I felt hands on my shoulders, unsettling me a bit as I turned abruptly to face him. Staring at him, the picture came true in some ways.
While he was tall, he was lean yet overly tone. His hair was a lush brown, stubble over a five o'clock shadow with some greys. Something I didn't think of were his eyes... And they pulled me in as soon as we'd locked sights.
"Didn't mean to startle you. Just trying to take your jacket."
"You do that with everyone?"
"Only if they don't first."
Turning my back to him, he comfortably and easily slipped my jacket off. His hands running over my shirt made me shake a bit. Looking back at him, he'd hung it up and moved close to me again. Shockingly, he took my hand between his and led me to the chair. I knew I was likely blushing as I sat down and he went to the sink to wash his hands.
"How long you been cutting hair?" I asked, trying to ease my nervousness.
"Since I was maybe thirteen. Just something that I found enjoyable." He answered so matter of factly while drying his hands.
"What about your shop?"
He turned, leaning back to the sink a bit. "It's a different kind. I come to a temporary set up or rent out a space and cut by appointment. The name Royalty is just that. I've cut the hair of a lot of people, including movie stars, artists, musicians, monarchy from other countries, and every so often, porn actors."
I cracked smile, thinking of him cutting a male porn star's hair. "Quite the clientele. Why make time for someone like me?"
Jack smiled back at me, pouring a drink for himself and me. "I've seen you outside of some places I'd been with a client for the past month or so. I figure I keep an eye out if I saw you again. Sure enough, I got a picture of you in an email from someone who'd noticed you around like I had."
Taking the drink from him, I sipped slightly as he stared. "Lucky me."
He moved closer, making me lean back in the chair. His hand gently held under my chin. "I think that's my line."
His hand on my face made my senses whirl, so much that the drink in my hand fell. He placed his on the work table, turning my head carefully side to side, other hand seemingly tracing my jaw. My guess was he was trying to figure out where to start. Tilting my head around, he gently ran his fingers through my hair, and smiled a bit. As his hands left my face, I saw the ring on his left pinkie but my eyes soon found his cock, hard and pressed in his dress pants.
His eyes followed mine, not losing his smile.
"Something wrong?"
"Just something I noticed."
"Nighttime does that to me. Kind of weird if you ask me."
"Not necessarily. Or else we'd all have day sex instead."
A laugh spilled from him, a genuine, full laugh. "That's very true."
Jack had walked over, washing his hands a second time, then went to a small box I'd seen on the way in. Opening the small door, he pulled out a towel, and came back to where I'd been sat. He cranked the chair, leaning me back a bit, and started to press along my face carefully. I found it a bit different, seeing as warm towels are for after the haircut and shave. Needing an answer, he responded by saying it relaxes the face and opens pores for an easier shave.
Placing the towel in a nearby bin, I caught him preparing a straight razor. I'd never been given a shave with one. So this would hopefully not end in me getting cut. Drifting into that thought, I came back to see him staring at me, stirring the fresh shaving cream. I felt myself tensing, nipples and cock starting to stiffen as he kept looking me in the eye as he started to dab the cream onto my cheeks, neck, and jaw. Watching him sharpen his blade, back turned, I saw him and admired how he was graceful yet seductive in just how he did his work.
Though as he faced front again, his cock was still hard, blade sharp, I felt myself swallow a lump of nervous energy.
"Never had a straight shave?"
"Not exactly. I figure you're good if you do that."
"I only do it upon request. But again, figure I made this visit the best one. Maybe I'll see you again that way."
Feeling myself fall flush, Jack started to lightly drag his razor along the grain of my beard. I went still as a board, though my heart wanted to do laps inside my chest. I tried to not bite my lip, thinking it would alert him of my excitement. I only did so when he walked to clean his razor from the shaving cream. I even moaned quietly to myself.
