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The Barber

by Christian Maddison 10 days ago in erotic

An erotic short story

The Barber
Photo by Nathon Oski on Unsplash

Inspiration strikes when you least expect it.

The first day we met was interesting to say the least. I was hungry and didn’t want to cook, so before going home I ventured out to the local seafood place. Walked in, placed my order and that’s when I saw him, and he saw me. I wanted to be bold as usual, but something was holding me back. I looked, as I thought, a mess. Ponytail and a t-shirt dress. Nails barely done and a flip-flop, I had a cast on the other. He just continued to stare. As I waited for my food, I would catch him in a glance. It was cute and so was he. I moved into his general direction and waited for one of us to say something to one another. He noticed my foot and made a joke. I thought, “it’s about time” and smiled. “24”, my food was ready. He asked me “How did you get your food faster than me and I was here before you?” I shrugged my shoulders and told him it must have been what He ordered and laughed as I walked out the door.

Getting into my car, I almost closed the door on him. “Hey, wait!” he said. “I was about to ask for your number, but you left so fast.” “I’m sorry,” I replied, “I’m on a mission.” He introduced himself. “My name is Spike and I’m a Master Barber and hairstylist. May I have your number, or would you like to take mine?” I pulled out my phone and put his number in my phone. On my way home, I called him just to make sure. He answered and said he wanted to take me out. I rolled my eyes and said ok because I’ve heard that line before. In my driveway we talked for another 20 minutes before we said our goodbyes. His promise to call me later to make arrangements made me a little happy.

A few hours had passed and my phone rings. “Hello, It’s Spike are you busy?” I laughed at him and said no. He started a conversation, something I haven’t had in a long time. He talked about his family, and I interjected parts of mine into this back and forth we were doing. Finally, he suggests that we go to dinner, then he asks what I like to eat. I tell him, and we make a date for the following Friday night.

I’m thrilled at how the conversation went and about going out on a date. Even though it’s October, it’s still fairly warm so I pick out the “freakum” dress. (The dress that guarantees a successful night) Spike calls and asks how to get to my house and what I like to drink. I text him my address and he arrives in about 20 minutes. This man is unlike any that have come before him. He’s shorter than I normally deal with, but his intelligence levels are amazing! Quick-witted, funny, sexy, well-manicured, smells good and he seems to be interested in me. He rings the bell and I open the door. I grab my purse, close the door and head to his car. He opens the door and I get in. A gentleman let’s see how long he can keep that up, I thought to myself. His demeanor, his swagger and confidence allured me and drew me into his world. As we head off to dinner, he tells me how sexy I am and jokes that he loves the choice of footwear. I blush and say nothing.

We arrive, he again opens all doors for me, and we’re seated right away. The place had a romantic feel. Dim lighting, candles and jazz playing in the background. I’m kind of shocked and impressed at the same time. We order and begin another conversation until dinner arrives. He takes my hand, kisses it lightly and asks if I’d like to dance. I tell him I’m not sure how well it will go in my condition but agree. We head to the dance floor. He grabs my waist and pulls me close to him. As we sway to the music, my head rests on his chest, smelling his cologne and becoming intoxicated by the aroma.

I’ve lost all concentration and have lost myself in a dream-like state. He whispers in my ear but I’m not really listening. Then he pulls away from me, smiles and says, “Dinner is ready.” I look up at him, smile and apologize for being in another world. We laugh and tell stories of our past. Enjoying each other’s company. I notice that it’s becoming quieter. I think we’re the only people left. We definitely lost track of time. Returning to my house, Spike reveals that he bought me a small bottle of Crown Apple. I thank him, and he puts his hand on my thigh. Again, telling me how much he enjoyed dinner and how incredibly attractive I am to him. He walks me to my door, waits for me to get inside and tells me goodnight.

Wait, what just happened? He didn’t even allow me to ask if he wanted to come in. I’m suspicious now. He calls to let me know he made it home and asks if we can go out again. I say sure and tell him where I want to go next time. He agrees, we talk for a bit then he lets me go to get my “beauty rest.”

The entire week, I feel like I’m back in high school. Looking forward to his calls and texts and getting thrilled at the sound of his voice. He seems like a true gentleman, but still, I’m not sure. The dates go on for months, while he also “stops by” after work on occasion. He now helps me with physical therapy and walking in “regular” shoes. He hasn’t ever tried to come at me sideways or said anything out of the way suggestive. This night, our “normal” date night was different. I asked if we could just stay in at my house and watch a movie. My plan was already made, I just needed him to agree so I could set the wheels in motion. He agreed. Yay! I’ve been looking to sex him up for a while and now I’ll try to see if he’s willing.

I answer the door in a thin, summer halter dress. He hugs me like he hasn’t seen me in months. His strong hands caress and massage my back as I grab his neck and rub the back of his head. He kisses my neck and asks me how my day was as he leads me to the couch. “I thought we were watching movies,” he asked. We are, you just got here before I could turn on the tv. So, what did you want to watch? Comedy, cartoon, documentary, what? “I really don’t want to watch anything,” he said. “Can we just listen to some music instead?” “Sure,” I replied. I go to the computer and put on some jazz. He sits on the couch looking perplexed. “Are you okay?,” I asked. I’ve never seen him look like this before. I stand in front of him in between his legs. He lays his head on my chest, embracing my back. “I’m fine,” he replies. “I just missed you and I’m trying not to fall for you.” Huh? My facial expression turns into an emoji of confusion. He’s never mentioned that there were feelings or that he may have them for me. I’m stumped and at a loss for words. At that moment he begins to rub the backs of my thighs, lifting my dress and revealing my bare ass.

Grabbing at each cheek like he’s trying to palm a basketball. He kisses me softly from my chest to the beginning of my “forbidden valley.” Quickly, he spins me around, so my ass is now in his face, parting my cheeks to expose the dripping faucet that has begun to spring a leak. Planting his face in an immobile position, only using his tongue to guide him to the juicy, wet, sticky, candy he’s been craving. A low moan of pleasure escapes my lips as he delves deeper into the cavern of my desire. He turns me once more and guides me to the rug awaiting below. Removing my dress in one swift movement, he now sees me in all my glory. Looking at me, he smiles and kneels to gently part my legs. Throwing his shirt over his head and taking off his shoes. I feel it’s about to go down.

He ate my snack cake like the cookie monster eats cookies. Licking up every drop that tried to pass his wanting lips. I’m shocked beyond belief that THIS is what I’ve been missing and had wanted for so very long. He finally raises his head from my sweet, sticky pleasure box below and suggests a different position. I comply as I want to see what else he has in store for me. I gather my thoughts and pause. Making him sit on the couch, I remove his pants as he removes his shirt. Oh my! I think to myself as I see his carmel churro rising to welcome me. Spike looks at me as my lips part and I lick his strong shaft into submission. His first moan assured me that I had hit a spot. As I bobbed and weaved, caressed, and rotated his ever wanting, continually growing love machine, his wails of pleasure grew. Conquering the pipe of passion, I extracted every decadent bead of his appetizing, flavorsome juice he had to offer. Believing he was spent, I ascended to my feet. Happy and glistening, he asked “where do you think you’re going”? Turing back towards him, to see his sexiness consumed with “maximum joy,” I reply. “To get you a hot towel.” Spike smiles, reaches for my hand, and pulls me towards him. “We’re not done,” he whispers. My eyes widened and my jaw drops. My mind blown as he revitalizes my butterfly and begins to restore new life to her. His kisses are soft and demanding at the same time.

I became a liquefied disarray of raw, unfiltered joy. He looks at me and asks, “Where’s your bedroom”? I take his hand and lead him to my Pleasure Palace*. As he locks the door, he notices my shoe collection in a bin. “Can you put these on for me,” he asks tenderly. In a world of confusion, I slide on the heels he picked out. Delicately he lures me to his arms once again. Holding me lovingly against his ever growing “Excalibur.” Swaying to a melody only he could hear, he effortlessly positions me on the bed. I wanted to see him in all his glory, but only got a glimpse of his tight ass as he walked towards the light switch. Suddenly, he pauses and says, “I want to watch you go crazy. Lights stay on.” Oh my! Freaky, sexy, intelligent, funny. I’m falling so quick I have no time to react.

Elevating my thighs, he kisses each one from my ankle to my candy store. Maintaining his manly stance, he positions himself betwixt them and lowers his head. I feel a rushing from my innermost being as he inserts an extremity to manipulate and extract my deepest, most intimate secrets. With every thrust a song of pure bliss exits my mouth like notes from a musical just being learned.

“He knows what he’s doing, and I am here for it,” I thought to myself. What more could he possibly do? He lowers to his knees and begins a search for new, unwanted treasures that were lost, never to be found again. Spikes tongue was warm and tender. Adoring every crevice that it found with a worshipping tenderness and an array of skills you only see in porn. Blowing, imbibing, sucking ever so gently to a” rhythm of life” that only he knew. Embracing my engorged cantaloupes caringly, while my heels danced in the air and my thighs trembled with delight. He comes up for air and asks, “Are you enjoying yourself” as he smiles devilishly. He knew I was, as the screams of a banshee escaped my orifice. He stands and inserts his long, hard, flagpole into my wanting chasm of delight, as it oozes a continuous flow of melted cream onto the comforter. With vigor and ambition, he thrusts in and out, causing the dewdrops to become a flood.

Turing me over, he seizes my arms as my water balloons vibrate with every bounce of his hips. I sense an explosion about to occur as well as he. My body is tingling from all the anticipation, exhilaration, and elation. The geyser is about to erupt, my immobilizer compresses his giant member and embraces him into the warmness that’s about to come forth. The motions become faster, more vigorous, and staccato. At once, we both howl like to wolves looking at the moon. Release. His grip loosens on my arms, and he collapses onto the bed next to me, gathering all his strength just to pull me closer to him. The music still playing faintly in the background, we descend into a deep sleep.

Morning comes and we both have a look of shame on our faces. We couldn’t believe that was us. I asked Spike if he wanted breakfast and a shower? He nodded and asked me if I could join him for the shower and mentioned that HE would cook breakfast. Again, my eyes grew big as he suggested to cook for me. I was smitten and couldn’t help to agree.

We drug ourselves to the bathroom, he turned on the water as I gathered towels. Washing and caressing my back, I reminded him that, “that’s how our night began.” We both laughed and continued to shower. After drying off, he headed to the kitchen. Spike had told me he liked to cook but not everyone that says that can. Bellowing to me from the kitchen, he requested that I stay in my room. He wanted to surprise me with his “skills.” I agreed and got dressed. When he was done, he called for me to “come out.” Whatever it was that he cooked smelled good but how did it taste? I walked from my room to the dining room table. He pulled out my chair as he stood beside me with only a towel on. “Have a seat,” he said. “Do you want OJ or cranberry juice”? He asked. “Whatever you cooked will determine that, sir” I said. “So, what did you make for us this morning”? I asked “Steak, cheese eggs, and toast.” He said proudly. I was impressed as I began to cut my steak and asked for the OJ. It was really good. All of it was. Spike sat down next to me and began to eat. We laughed and talked for what seemed hours.

He washed the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, and got dressed. Before he left, he explained that he enjoyed and appreciated our time together and looked forward to seeing me again. I agreed. He drew me in for a hug and kissed me on the neck before opening the door to leave. I asked that he, “call me when he got home,” to make sure he arrived safely. He agreed, nodded, and hopped in his car, calling about 10 minutes later. We chatted for a few, and I told him I had some work to do but would call him later. Four years later and we’re still having date nights, playing games, and acting like teenagers.


Christian Maddison

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Christian Maddison
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