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The big Harley roared through the darkened streets and the throaty rumble of its engine sent incredibly sexy vibrations up between my legs, stirring the straps of my black garter belt beneath my short leather skirt. I hung on tightly to the hard, trim body of my date, pressing firmly against his back, shielding myself from the wind that whipped my long dark hair out behind us. The pinwheels that churned in my stomach had nothing to do with bike’s gyrations. They had more to do with thoughts of fucking the big guy driving it. I hoped he was everything Lisa cracked him up to be. Monster-ized cocks are my turn on, and according to Lisa this guy was supposedly hung like a horse.

We turned on to a side street in the center of town. The bike slowed and stopped in front of a row of shops. “I live over the barber shop,” he said, turning off the engine. The nearest shop had one of those red, white and blue poles with a light on top mounted by the door, but the blinds were closed so I couldn’t see inside. It was nearly midnight, and the street was deserted.

I smiled back. Most guys I’ve gone with are fairly spartan about their living spaces. I don’t mind their mess so long as they have a big comfy bed. He opened the door and I followed him into the shop. Light filtered in from the street lamp outside, I could just make out three chairs over by the counter with sinks and mirrors.

He didn’t waste any time getting down to business, taking me in his arms and planting a long slow kiss that sent shivers up and down my spine. “I’ve been waiting to do that all evening,” he said with a smile. “I’m glad Lisa introduced us.”

His hands moved down the back of my soft angora sweater, over the waistband of my skirt onto my tight leather-lad behind. I ignored them and pouted for another kiss. This time I sent in my greedy little tongue to stir up as much encouragement as I could muster. He didn’t need any. Our lips locked eagerly and my roving fingertips found a strong response beneath the hardened denim in the front of his jeans.

A hand slid up under my skirt, sending a quiver of pleasure shooting up through my belly as I anticipated where his fingers would go. Sure enough, they soon found their way above my lacy stocking tops, caressing the inside of my thigh, and pressing the gauzy fabric of my panties into my pussy. I shuddered. His fingers matched my fantasies. My outer lips parted on the second stroke and let my clit respond to his touch. I gasped as something deep inside me contracted. And guys think girls wear skirts and stockings for their benefit – the hell we do.

Much as I enjoyed his attentions down there, I gently urged him to move, forcing him withdraw his hand from pleasuring me. “Upstairs,” I said.

He led me on, but paused by the barber chair nearest the staircase, to kiss me again. “Don’t be in such a rush Honey,” he said, “It’s Friday and we’ve got all night. Unless you’ve got somewhere else you’d rather go.”

“Okay, I said, unbuttoning his fly to expose the front of his underwear. This move, I’ve found, usually gets guys to head for the bed, but he just stood there letting me check out the goods. His tackle formed a monstrous lump in the front of a pair of kinky zippered spandex briefs. Tight shiny fabric flexed beneath my fingers as I ran them up and down. Still no movement from him, so I tugged gently on the zipper and let his huge cock fall into my hands. He was built to please. Its massive thick shaft and the oversized balls that hung below were deliciously smooth like a baby’s skin.

Oh God! The whole thing was shaved!

I spun the barber chair around behind him, forced him down into it, kneeling to get a better look. His balls were incredibly sensitive to touch, the testicles moved as I fondled their sack. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the strong sharp scent of his excited organ. My excitement peaked – there is no greater aphrodisiac than the smell of cock – so I began kissing its swollen circumcised end, swirling my tongue around the rim of his massive glands.

No wonder Lisa blew him out. She couldn’t take the sex. His tackle was so damn big, he’d leave stretch marks after he fucked me. Opening wide, I stretched my glossed lips to cover the end completely, working the underside with my tongue. Lover boy groaned, so I stopped – just in time. A jet of clear come dribbled down my chin forming a long glistening string as it dripped on to the floor. He was definitely ready to fuck me now.

Both of us stood up, and he started to undress me. I guess he’d planned all along to do me right here in the chair. He slipped off my sweater, and unzipped my skirt letting it fall down around my ankles. I tore off his jacket and his shirt. All the while we kept kissing each other. Clothes lay scattered on the shop floor. He was naked. The Velcro on my panties gave way when he tried to take them down. I always wear trick ones for dates. It is so undignified having to untangle tiny black lacy panties from your heels.

Caressing my cleavage, he popped my bra and then cupped my breasts in his big hands, stroking beneath them, rolling my nipples in his fingers before easing me down into the chair. Spread my legs wide, I lifted my thighs over the arms of barber’s chair, then he tilted the seat way back.

First, he opened my pussy lips, and warmed me up with one finger, going in deep after my G-spot. Then he added a second finger spreading me wider, rubbing my hardened clit under his thumb until my juices gushed. He entered slowly so my pussy had time to accommodate the head, then the shaft of his monstrous organ. My pussy lips stretched out into a tight circle forcing my clit to rub along his shaft, sending the first orgasmic tremors quaking through me. I craved every sensation. He pumped gently at first, unsure of my reaction to being completely impaled. The long slow strokes took me into the blinding space of total orgasm. When I recovered, he picked up the pace, pushing harder and deeper than anything had ever done before, pounding my ass into the soft leather chair. I’d never imagined a fuck this deep, or this good. More strong orgasms came on in waves, engulfing my senses, ripping through my insides, each one leaving me totally powerless with pleasure.

He came, flooding the cave he’d hollowed out in me with warm sperm, spurting the last of his load over the dome of my belly when he withdrew. I lay exhausted and gasping, the complete slut, finally fucked to satisfaction.

I can’t tell when I actually fell for him. Perhaps as he looked down at me tenderly, or perhaps when he took a warm towel from a machine on the counter and gently cleaned me up. I knew as he soothed my sore lips, I wanted more than a one night stand with this man.

“You own this place don’t you?” I said. “You are a barber. Is that why you shave your cock?”

“No. I shave because I like the way it feels when a cutie like you strokes it. Shaving enhances the sensation tremendously.”

His last statement shocked me a little. I’d never thought of shaving my pussy to alter the sensation. I only trim it during the summer so the pubic hair doesn’t stick out of my bikini.

“Will shaving change the feel for me too?” I asked.

“I’m sure it will,” he said, then smiled as he held up a pair of clippers. “Want to find out?”

I laughed and nodded. He flipped on the light. Getting my pubes shaved seemed a small price to pay to get another ride in his chair. By the time he shaved me, he’d be ready to do it again. This time to my bald pussy!

The clipper’s blades tickled my pubes as they sheared off the thick curls. I sat back and watched the mirror with fascination while he transformed me, sending tiny wisps of hair raining down to the floor, leaving close cropped stubble where there had once been dense muff.

Watching made me incredibly horny.

What came next was even more wonderful. He spread warm frothy shaving cream, that came out of another machine on the counter, all over my pubes with a soft round brush. The lazy strokes of its bristles drew ve
ry pleasant sensations from my almost bald skin. Finally, he worked the white foam between my lips with his fingers, sending brief spasms of excitement though me, while he rubbed into the folds around my exposed hood.

Pleasured and creamed, I tentatively submitted to being shorn with a straight razor. The sharp sliver blade made me very nervous. I could hear it scraping off the white foamy cream to reveal smooth, pale, pink skin in the mirror. My heart was in my mouth when he delicately parted my lips and ran the tip of the blade along the inside edge of my opening. One slip could disfigure the thin inner lips, or worse still nick my precious clit.

I sat quivering, experiencing a strange heady mixture of terror and desire, while the razor sliced away the tiny hairs just inside my grove. I felt so vulnerable, and yet so wonderfully wicked at the same time, and bravely resisted the natural temptation to close my thighs. Terror subsided into orgasm when he carefully wiped me off with another of those delicious warm towels and showed me the final result in the mirror. The shear wickedness of sitting in my stockings and garter belt, with my freshly shaven cunt spread as wide as Texas, appalled me. What a naughty, nasty, little slut I’d become to have enjoyed such an intimate barbering by a man I hardly knew. I wanted him to lather me up and do it again, but my pretty pubic curls were all gone.

Sadly, his huge dong still hung limp. No seconds for me, unless I stiffened it up for him – and I badly wanted seconds.

“It looks beautiful,” I said running my finger over my bare cunt lips. “Thank you. You were so gentle, but you’ve made me very horny. Now I want to do something special to turn you on too.” I saucily ran the tip of my tongue across my pouted lips to signal what I intended – a good old fashioned sucking. “You can,” he said. “Let me give you a haircut.” His penis flexed noticeably when he said this.

“Do you do girls?” I said. The idea of sitting naked in the chair, watching him crop a little off my mane, and letting him massage my neck and shoulders, I must admit, had me going.

“I worked at a salon for years, before I saved up enough to buy this place. I’m planning to remodel soon and start doing both guys and gals.”

“Okay. I’m game,” I said, reaching over the arm of the chair to fondle the end of his gorgeous cock.

He pulled a style book from a drawer under the counter and opened it. “I was thinking something like this,” he said. “The cut would look great with your the skirt and sweater you were wearing.”

The model in the picture had straight black hair like mine cut into a tight bob with the bangs cleverly angled to emphasize her chin line – far shorter than I usually wear my hair. But he had a good eye, I’d look terrific styled like that. “Cut away,” I said.

Readjusting the chair, he began. The same clippers that shaved my pussy now lopped off six inches of my long black hair. Hearing them buzz close to my ears and watching clippings cascade down across my bare breasts on to the floor blew me away. The awesome sex, shaving, and now cutting – the most exciting date I’ve ever been on. I wanted it to last forever. I wanted this guy to bang me all weekend.

Gradually, he worked his way to the back of my head, all the while, shaping my beautiful locks with the clippers. Then he slipped the guard off, I felt a strong hand on my shoulder, and he began shaving my neck. I bit my lip. The hypnotic buzz, his dreamy sensual touch, and my mounting sexual excitement as the clippers moved higher and higher, transported me into a bliss-like state. Then they stopped, and showed me the full view with a hand mirror. My hair looked totally stunning, the shaven back unbelievably sexy. He’d turned me into a goddess. Wordlessly, he showed me a picture of the same model with a much shorter cut, bangs cut just above her ears, the sides buzzed very, very short, almost shaved. I nodded mutely, lost in the spell. I’d do anything he asked me to. He could cut the lot off for all I cared.

I silently watched the second transformation in the mirror, letting my hand slip down to touch the skin on my shorn mound: so smooth, so sexy, so sensitive now without its curls. I knew he could see me stroking myself in the mirror. A wicked, wanton pixie, I barely knew, stared back at me.

His hands caressed the side of my head and began to massage my neck seductively. His fingertips felt delicious as they ran through the short spiky hairs.

Completely seduced, I knew what he secretly wanted me to do. I closed my eyes. “I want you to cut it all off,” I said, my voice husky from the emotions welling inside. “And then shave me…” My mouth was too dry to say “bald”. I eagerly accepted his tongue.

This time the clippers showed no mercy. Tipping my head forward, he ran them right down the middle and over the back, ruining what was left of my hair in a single stroke. Shorn locks rapidly tumbled between my legs, while the blades completed their feeding frenzy. My insides churned while he sheared me. When he finally let me up for air, I was breathing hard as if I’d just been raped. Horrible black stubble covered my once pretty head. I thought about the gorgeous long mane I walked in with – now sacrificed. Tears welled up. But I choked them back. I’d asked him to do this to me. The wicked pixie had been punished for her wanton ways. She was gone now, and only a shorn waif remained.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll make you ravishing once again, if you trust me. When you go, I have an absolutely stunning black wig to give you. No one will ever know about the bald beauty that lies beneath it unless you want them to.” Warm lather, soon soothed away the terrible qualms about my ruined hair. The white blanket he spread out over my scalp hid the ugliness. When the razor passed over, it revealed only beautiful smooth pink skin that matched my shorn pussy. Sensing I needed gentleness, he made the shave long, slow and sensuous, cleaning up both my head and body afterwards with more of those marvelous warm towels, while he kissed me and asked me to stay the whole weekend with him. Apart from the fact I was amazingly hairless, I looked really sexy. My breasts looked bigger for a start. I cupped them and turned away from the mirror to check out my ass. My black garter belt framed sexy rounded curves both back and front, while I ran my fingers over my shaven scalp appreciating its new delicacy. The head shave had morphed my T and A into a devastating combination of head, tits, and ass.

He just stood back and grinned, watching me get off on myself. I dropped back into the chair, hooking my legs over the arms, exposing my shaven cunt, teasing its inner lips open like a dark pink rose. He mistook my intentions, went to his knees, and began to lick where he’d shaved. Like a royal whore, I sat back enjoying the incredible sight and sweet sensations of him eating the bald bitch he’d created. His tongue darted in and out of my hole, teeth nibbled gently at soft smooth lips, and his lips sucked my swollen clit. The bastard knew exactly how far to take me before pulling back to leave me poised on the edge of ultimate bliss.

Turned the chair sideways on to the mirror, I gripped the arms tight, and meekly knelt on the seat, pushing my ass up and out to receive his manhood from behind. The monster cock soon impaled me, plunging deep inside its hairless lair till his bare skin touched mine releasing sparks of sensual electricity. Huge shaven balls swung back and forth caressing me between my thighs. Helpless, I watched the beast ream me in the mirror. Its mighty length slid in and out of the slippery cave, battering the gates of my womb, fucking me to orgasm. In a spasm that made us both cry out, my hairless cunt bore down on the beast, gripping it tight, squeezing it uncontrollably to force the release of its vital juices. I almost fainted. Forced to retreat, his monster cock slipped out of me.

Quickly, I left the barber’s chair behind, pushing my lover down into it. Then kneeling on the thick carpet of
my once beautiful mane, I sucked the last vestiges of life from the monster, letting hot jets of his rich creamy sperm spurt all over my shaven scalp, my cheeks, and my lips. My busy fingers milked the last drops of spicy fluid from his tender balls on to my waiting tongue.

What a start to the weekend!

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