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Hairpro by Barringer

They’ve opened a new beauty salon two blocks from me. It caters for everyone. That means male, female and variations thereof. Plus they even have a children’s corner. It’s open plan and a hive of constant activity. And naturally a huge success. What’s more there’s a coffee bar and lots of reading material so you don’t sit there longing for it all to be over as I usually do when I take my five-year-old to have his hair cut. It’s not that expensive either considering what you get for your money. And they do a great job.

Lori was very pleased with Brian’s new look and asked me lots of questions about the place. Which of course I couldn’t answer. It’s called Beauty Hairpro Team and naturally I didn’t know what the ‘pro’ in ‘hairpro’ stood for. It could have been any number of things. Products, protection, promotion, protein. Whatever. But my own personal interpretation was that of ‘provider’ as in ‘give plenty of.’

Of course this had a lot to do with my ‘personal’ hairdresser. His name was Piero and he was from Verona. This meant that he had fair hair and blue eyes. A wicked combination for an Italian. He told me his aim was to give clients complete satisfaction and also those ‘little extras’ that were so important. He was probably referring to the coffee-bar-cum-reading-room but the ‘little extras’ that appealed most to me were all on display in his beauty-assistant’s-cum-beautiful-body. He had my penis pulsing from the moment I set eyes on him.

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Of course you can only have your hair cut so many times a month but women need all sorts of other things done. I surprised Lori by being more than willing to accompany her whenever she wanted to go there and to wait for her as well. She gave me one of her looks. She knew I hated waiting. I told her I liked the atmosphere. Which was true. I couldn’t get enough of it. Or rather I couldn’t get enough of Piero.

Everything about him excited me. The way he moved. How his eyes twinkled and shone when he spoke to people. How my dick twinkled and shone when I looked at him. Or when he looked at me in the mirror. Or touched my face with his cool fingers as he was shaving me. Or when he massaged hair lotion into my scalp. By the way, have you ever heard of anyone suffering from horny scalp syndrome? Well you have now.

Like all the other hairdressers and beauty experts he wore a loose smock over his everyday clothes. It was just that bit longer than waist length and unfortunately covered his gorgeous glutes so I could only really appreciate them when he was bending over to get something. Which he did quite frequently. His smock rose and fell with him. So did my eyes. And my dick. He had a zip right down the front which had a habit of rising and falling too. In the winter he kept the smock zipped up nearly to his throat but as the weather got warmer he gradually opened it more and more.

Most of the time, even in the height of summer, I felt like a child at Christmas trying to peep between the gift-wrap to see what wonderful things were inside. He usually wore a tee shirt underneath but I could see how firm his chest was and imagined the rest. Once it was so hot that he wore nothing at all under the smock and the zip was at half mast so I saw a whole host of ‘little extras.’ In particular his singular nipples. They were full and juicy. Just the way I liked them. Nipples are my downfall I’m afraid. I’m absolutely addicted to them. No fuck-fest is complete for me without them.

It had been quite some time since I’d had a ‘full meal’ too. Lori’s nipples had been quite sensitive since breast-feeding Brian and I’d been doing my level best to keep on the straight and narrow since I’d married her. It was a decision I’d made and had never really regretted until now. The day I laid eyes on Piero’s tasty protuberances. I don’t know how conscious he was of my adoration but he always provided me with a friendly smile and of course a feast for my eyes. I was very generous with my tips so he must at least have noticed that.

We didn’t talk much at first. His English, unlike his body, wasn’t all that hot. But as time went on it improved. As did my Italian. Eventually he discovered I worked for a talent agency. He asked if I knew a good photographer as he wanted to ‘make a book’ as he called it. I knew exactly what I wanted to ‘make’ and offered to do the job myself. I wasn’t really a photographer but I wasn’t going to let a chance like this pass me by. I had already wasted too much time playing peek-a-boo with his smock as it was. My lips (and, of course, my dick) grew moist every time I thought of those nifty nipples of his. He explained that he didn’t have much money as he was paying for his apartment. I said I’d love to take some photos of him and not to worry about the money. I was sure we could ‘come to some arrangement’.

This immediately put us on another footing. The expression means exactly the same in Italian as it does in English. He smiled and said if it turned me on he didn’t mind posing for some photos in the nude as long as they were tasteful and didn’t end up on the internet. I re-assured him and told him they would be for personal use only. He laughed. I surprised myself by how brazen I was sounding and almost blushed. But my appetite had been seriously whetted by now. Six years is a long time to be in denial and I had a feeling that Piero wasn’t going to deny me anything. I told him that the photos would be tasteful and tasty. I’m not sure if he understood but he invited me to his place the following Monday. As easy as that.

I was pretty relieved. I mean I couldn’t have worked at home. Lori or Brian might have walked in at any moment. As far as I knew Lori was completely unaware of my ‘proclivities.’ I’d always been super discreet on the rare occasion I strayed from the marital bed. What’s more, Brian was only five. I could hardly have had a semi-clad, hot and horny Italian prancing about the place. Although I was already hot and horny at the thought of it. I wondered what I was letting myself in for. It was one thing to worship somebody from afar and quite another to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. I began to wonder if I’d bitten off more than I could chew.

The big day came and I set out with a digital camera and my Nikon. I wondered how serious he was about ‘the book.’ It could just have been a pretext to get in my pants. He lived on the top of a converted warehouse. A kind of loft in fact. Perfect for photos. There was no elevator so I had to walk up. I’m in pretty good shape so I arrived hale and hearty but a bit out of breath. I’d run up most of the stairs as I couldn’t wait to see him. He was standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a whiter than white shirt ‘casually’ unbuttoned to the dick. This rose to greet me as I weak-kneed it towards him. I threw my things on a chair, myself on him and we fucked for five hours.

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God it was great. Greater than my wildest dreams. As was his Italian dick. All this time I’d been planning how I was going to peel the layers off him like a sexual onion and here he was offering me the full course on a single platter. Our tongues and dicks met simultaneously and we grappled for supremacy not quite knowing who was going to enter who. Finally his dick won and he entered me. This caught me with my trousers down so to speak. I’d only once been fucked before when I was in college and it had hurt like hell. Still, one of Piero’s ‘little extras’ was a lube tube and he anointed my butt with oil in much the same way as he’d massaged hair lotion into my scalp in the beauty salon.

His dick felt a foot long but it felt wonderful. To my surprise there was no pain just utter sexual comfort. A foot slipping into a favourite shoe, a hand into a glove. It was as if it had been custom made to fit my ass which opened generously to receive him like a plush armchair welcoming a very special guest. As he sank into the deep velvet of my being he passed his smooth hairdresser’s hands over my supine body like a cursor logging in to my sexual website.

He fucked me doggie-style for a while. Slowly, oh so slowly. Moving his thick Italian dick in and out of me as if he was giving me a taste of things to come. It made a soft slopping sound like waves lapping on a beach. I let him ooze away, enjoying this new sensation of being passively possessed by another man. He started telling me how much he loved my ass and how hot and tight it was and asked me why I’d made him wait so long to make its acquaintance. I suppressed a smile. It sounded like something he’d learned from a home-movie. Maybe the patter sounded better in Italian.

Before I could reply he was revving up his engine and plucking at my nipples. Instinctively he seemed to know he was honing in on one of my most sensitive erogenous zones. I sighed and shuddered in delirious delight. Nobody had ever done this to me before. Of course I’d done it to others but had no idea it felt like this. He was making me so horny I felt I was about to go into orbit. My ass snuggled down on his dick encouraging it to take up residence. By now, my whole body was twitching in sexual countdown and waiting for the final blast-off. At the same time I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to stand the heights he’d be taking me too. I needn’t have worried because I soon became oblivious to everything except the feel of his dick in my ass as it ground my bones to powder and made my body feel like erotic ectoplasm.

He worked my dick like a lever, jerking me off in front and grinding me from behind until both my butt and my dick were spitting sparks. I groaned and moaned like a cat in heat as he filled my joyful American ass with his juicy Italian dick and my receptive ears with oaths of love in a mixture of both English and Italian. Soon I could no longer distinguish one language from another or my body from his body. My dick pulsed in his hand and the rest of me vibrated like a happy humming bird.

“I want to see your face,” he cried. “I want to see the expression in your eyes as I fuck you.”

Somehow or other he managed to spin me over on my back so that the humming bird became a humming top. Or should that be bottom? His dick only left my ass for an instant while he did so but stuck out its lips to greedily swallow him again as he wrapped my legs around his neck and pulled me right down on him. He stabbed his way past my sphincter until my prostrate hit the roof and I saw stars and all the colours of the rainbow. I couldn’t believe I was feeling what I was feeling. As the saying goes I was well and truly fucked.

He bounced me on his dick until I was gurgling and burbling like a baby boy. And I’m twenty-seven next birthday! I drooled at the sight of his nipples and so did my dick. They seemed so near and yet so far away. My lolling tongue was longing to reach them. Then my eyes lost focus and I knew I wasn’t far from coming. I willed myself to stay the course. I ground myself further down on Piero’s dick and screamed for him never to stop. He felt like a power pylon in my butt and I wrapped my ass-lips round his dick in a wanting, wanton embrace. He kissed me with the same intensity, his tongue devouring mine. I was being fucked at both ends and revelling in it. Six years with Lori and I’d never felt like this. After what seemed forever, the horny humming that resounded in my head turned into that singing sensation you hear in your ears when you know that you’re about to pass out. But I wasn’t going anywhere. I was well and truly home. And so was he. I came in showers of sweet, sticky content all over him and basted his nipples with my love juice. At the same time I felt him unload oceans of hot steaming jizz inside me.

“Grazie, amore,” he said.

And that was only the first round. There was much more to cum. Hope I’ll have the strength to knock you out with all the ‘little extras’ real soon.

By the way, I forgot to tell you that ’pro’ is also the beginning of ‘prova’ the Italian word for rehearsal. And that first fantastic fuck feast sure was some rehearsal for the rest of the fucking time we spent together!

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And I didn’t have to take one single photo. Just work myself up to a wonderful photo finish! It exhausts me just to think of it. I mean five hours is some marathon man.

Piero certainly is one hot horny hunk. And one hell of a hairpro.

In fact, I’m brushing and combing my hormones in anticipation of my next injection of penal protein!

The model in these pictures is Jiri Kalina

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