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Just like Sean's by Manny
"Hey, we're looking for a player to round out our teams," the lean, muscular man with the ultra-short haircut called out to Rodney. He flashed a warm, toothy grin.
"Sure," Rodney replied. Playing a round of basketball would be much more fun that plugging away on the treadmill for an hour.
Fun, was an understatement. Rodney had a blast! The best part was the instant chemistry that formed with Sean, the guy who had invited him to play. They made a fearsome duo on the court and easily led their squad to a walloping victory.
"Should we make this a regular date?" Sean asked. "We play every Thursday night. And with our mate moving away, we're looking for a regular."
"I'd love that," Rodney replied, mopping back the sweaty forelock that was plastered over his forehead and weeping salty droplets into his eyes. "If you're up for it, how about I treat you to a brew at O'Flanagan's?"
"Great! Meet in a minute or two at the main entrance?" Sean suggested.
"Oh, I need to wash and dry my hair first. It's a mess. Can we make that 15 or 20 minutes?" Rodney asked clumsily.
Sean eyed the mass of wavy, disheveled hair and barely concealed rolling his eyes. "I guess so. We can't have you out and about looking like that."
Rodney hurried as best he could. But, for his hair to look its best he had to blow dry it. And it was way overdue with regard to needing a good trim. Rodney blasted the hot air and his dark coppery locks emerged into a magnificently rich auburn color with fiery highlights. His hair was quite nice and he'd always worn it on the longish side. The problem was that when the forelock was too long and bulky it became quite unmanageable.
Rodney did as best he could and raced to the main lobby to meet Sean. Sean looked like a total hunk with tight jeans and a Lycra jersey that showed off every rippled ab and muscle. His shorn head made him look like he was dripping with testosterone.
"Finally! I've been dying of thirst! I should have gone on ahead and gotten us a table in O'Flanagan's....." Sean murmured.
Once inside the bar, the two did not lack for conversation. It was as if they'd known themselves their whole lives.
When the conversation finally lagged a bit, Rodney's mind raced for a topic to discuss. Eyeing Sean's tightly shorn head, he commented, "Where do you get your hair cut? I'm way overdue but haven't been that happy with my current place. All this hair has really been getting on my nerves and I'm determined to get it chopped this weekend." He nervously mopped back his bulky fringed.
"Bud's Barber Shop. Near the intersection of Clark and Star. Small, traditional place. Mainly geezer-type barbers, but also a young guy that gives excellent cuts. Been going there for years. Same haircut for as long as I can remember, since I was a kid, really -- a #2 on top on a #0 on the sides and back. Like clockwork, first Saturday of the month. In and out in less than 15 minutes, usually." Sean was matter of fact in describing his haircut history.
"So you've never grown your hair long? Not even in college?" Rodney asked, trying to expand the conversation. He was truly fascinated by Sean's military-length cut.
"Nope. I like it short and practical. No fuss. I'm not the type to be spending hours arranging girlish locks!" he laughed. "What about you? Ever been a longhaired hippy?"
Rodney blushed slightly. "Yep, once. Well, almost. In college. Decided to grow my hair down to my waist -- donate it to this wigs for cancer victims organization. But it was, like you said, too much work. It got just past the shoulders when I gave up the initiative and had most of it hacked off. Blazing summer heat. A sweaty neck all the time. What a relief -- to see the cut hair on the floor of the salon as I left!"
"Salon?" Sean chuckled. "Not for me. A $13 dollar quick clip job is all I need."
That was the end of the haircut discussion but Rodney kept thinking about it, long after the pair had said good night and agreed to see each other again the following Thursday at the gym. Rodney kept imaging a trip to Bud's Barber Shop on Saturday instead of the salon for the rest of the night, until he fell asleep.
The following morning, as he got ready for work, Rodney carefully examined his nice wavy hair in the mirror. The sheen was intense! He had never really thought of cutting his hair very short, anything even remotely approaching a military length like Sean's. He extended the forelock and judged it to be about five inches in length. It was too long. A geezer at Bud's Barber Shop would make short work out of it, for sure! No, he wasn't ready for that.....
On his way to work he dialed his salon. "Rodney Williamson here. Any chance for an appointment to have my hair cut today with Trixie?" The response disappointed him, "Oh, she's on vacation? No appointments available with any stylists? Perhaps I'll drop by and see if someone can take me as a walk-in then...."
After work, Rodney was heading towards the salon to try his luck in landing an available stylist to trim his hair. As things happened, an unexpected detour made him divert onto Clark Street. Before he realized it, he was approaching Star Avenue, the intersection where Bud's Barber Shop was located. It was fate! Slowly, he drove past the shop and glanced in to see the row of barbers in their matching white tunics busy at work. The place was humming with business. The glow of the neon made the tunics glow almost angel-like.
Instinctively, Rodney pulled into the first available parking lot. His legs felt like jelly as he emerged from the car. He was feeling brave, or so he thought. And, if he chickened out, he would just walk on by. In any event, he would get a good close look at the place Sean had been using for years. Bud's Barber Shop intrigued him -- he was especially curious about the young barber Sean had said gave excellent haircuts.
As Rodney came in front of the large plate glass window inscribed with "Bud's" in fancy cursive he saw a busy scene inside with all three barber chairs occupied and most of the waiting area, as well. He instantly decided he would enter. Be brave, take a risk. Yes, and get a much shorter haircut! The sound of three sets of clippers humming seemed as loud as a yard full of cicadas on a summer evening.
A tinkling bell announced his entry to the shop. The two geezer barbers nodded, and the young one flashed a smile. He was a handsome boyish-looking barber -- black hair closely clipped all over with a small tuft for bangs. The name patch on the tunic breast pocket identified him as Tom.
Once Rodney was seated he noticed that no one's hair in the shop was nearly as long has his. A man with a tidy business cut in the end chair was really the only man with hair long enough on top to comb or brush. One of the geezer barber's sported an immaculate deep pile flattop; the hair of the other was basically stubble all over.
The geezers were working on a pair of brothers in their early teens getting butch cuts. A single length, buzzed extra tight all over. Tom had the businessman and was tapering his hair short around the ears. The other men in the waiting room consisted of two old codgers with sparse gray hair, a middle age man with a short ivy haircut (who appeared to have just been barbered by the broad tan marks on his neck, most probably the father of the teens) and Rodney himself with his overgrown auburn thatch of hair.
About five minutes after his arrival, almost simultaneously, the geezers finished given their butch cuts and the capes came off the boys. They instantly felt the stubble they were left with. "Those haircuts should take you through the end of the term, boys," the father noted as he stood to pay.
Then Rodney realized that when the father left with the boys, he would get one of the geezers! His stomach churned anxiously.
And, as if reading his mind, the middle barber pointed to him and said, "You can take a seat here."
When Rodney stood, he realized how nervous he was. His knees felt like buckling. His mouth felt dry.
As Rodney began to walk towards the chair, the young barber spoke to his colleague. "Walt, isn't this your day to leave early? I can get the new client. I'm almost finished here," he said as he took a duster to his client's ears.
The geezer let out a chuckle. "Oh, thanks for reminding me -- my 53rd anniversary tonight. I'm taking the little lady out to dinner!"
Tom smiled at Rodney, "You don't mind waiting, do you? It'll just be a few minutes."
Mind waiting? No way!
When his turn came to approach Tom's chair, Rodney felt a huge mix of excitement and nervousness. He sunk into the comfortable upholstery. Within seconds barber Tom had cast the cape and was fastening it snugly around his new client's neck.
"First time here?" the young barber asked.
"Yes, actually it is. A friend of mine recommended Bud's as a good place to get a haircut," Rodney replied. He liked having the young male barber dressed in a snappy, starched professional tunic attending to his hair. Tom was a far cry from Trixie with her enormously long painted nails and boobs spilling out of her blouse fake-fawning over his 'pretty hair'!
"So, what'll it be today for you?" the barber asked, eyeing the mane with a bit of skepticism.
Rodney felt unprepared. He couldn't exactly say 'the same as usual!'
His mind raced. "Oh, something, uh, well, like the fellow you just finished....." Rodney gripped the arms of the chair to steady himself, realizing he'd just asked for an extremely short haircut. The man had gotten a fairly short taper -- barely long enough on top to lay flat. A lot of bulk would come off!
"Sure, so something a lot shorter that you currently sport," the barber said, just to make sure.
Rodney nodded and watched Tom reach for the clippers. Yikes! His first barbershop haircut was about to start..... "Yes, that's right," he managed to say. Then he reached out from under the cape and pushed at his forelock. "Especially this part," he said exhibiting the forelock. Rodney felt his cock stir as he imagined the whole forelock coming off, all at once! "I want it cut very short in front -- no obstacles in seeing the basketball hoop when I'm on the court with Sean."
"Would that be Sean Harper? Wears his hair to a military length, a #2 on top and to the wood on the sides?" the barber asked.
"Yep, the very one who recommended me to this shop," Rodney replied.
Tom grinned and snapped on the machine. "I think that's possible," Tom chuckled, seizing the forelock with a comb and running the clippers right over the top.
Instantly, a massive clump of hair, about four inches long fell to the cape with a muffled thud! OMG! Rodney almost pissed in his pants.
Tom sensed the near panic. "You did say you wanted your hair cut very short in front," he stated calmly. "I can assure you, you will like this haircut....uh, what did you say your name was?
"Rodney. And yes, I guess I'm a bit nervous about the change. But, really Sean's influencing me to go much shorter...." Rodney's mind turned to the military length Sean sported. He squirmed in the chair at what he was thinking.
Then the barber swiveled the chair a bit to deflect Rodney's view in the mirror, standing between him and his reflection. Tom cocked Rodney's head firmly to the side. The clippers came to the base of his sideburn and quickly went up through the temple, pressing closely to the scalp. A mass of hair fell to the cape, then another and another. Tom was working very quickly to reduce the bulk.
The barber stood to the side and suddenly Rodney saw himself half-transformed -- the one side minimized, all the bulk gone, with the top and other side still quite full. Tom spun the chair to access the uncut parts.
Rodney suddenly felt his head being pushed forward so that his chin almost touched his chest. The amount of hair on the cape was staggering. Then the metal teeth of the clippers shot up through his nape. He felt them pressing against the scalp almost to the crown of his head. The vibration of the clippers felt divine!
"Are you giving me a zero on the sides like Sean's," Rodney asked from his bowed, penitent position.
"Is that what you want?" Tom asked. "You want your hair cut just like Sean's?"
Rodney steadied himself under the cape. His cock was at full alert. He gulped. "Yes, just like Sean's."
The barber release his grip and let Rodney sit up straight. He turned the chair to face the mirror. Tom had a huge smile on his face as he swapped the clipper guard.
He held the machine up. "Ready for a #2 on top?"
"Ready," Rodney eked out.
In a flashed the clippers plowed down the center of Rodney's head. It was like a scene out of boot camp! The lovely coppery colored hair rained down to the cape in torrents. Rodney's stomach churned with an "oh no! what have I done?" feeling. The barber stripped away another swath of his beautiful hair. Rodney felt as vulnerable and puny as a bootcamp recruit.
Tom took a duster to Rodney's face and ears to inflict a bit more sensory overload. "Love to do that to a new client," he said softly, with a chuckle. "I can tell you're really into this, aren't you, Rodney? Now for the zero blade!"
Rodney watched helplessly as the barber finished clipping his sides till virtually no hair remained. He felt naked and lightheaded. The amount of hair on the cape was staggering.
"Wow, I can't believe the transformation," Rodney murmured.
The barber suddenly rubbed the stubbled pate. "Get used to that! I'm sure lots of people are going to want to rub your head like that when they see the new you. Be sure to tell me how your friends react to your haircut. Oh, and be sure to recommend Bud's Barber Shop!"
"I will -- especially barber Tom, the young handsome guy on the end chair," Rodney said, and then blushed at how forward he'd seemed.
Just then, the remaining geezer announced he was leaving and would Tom be sure to sweep up before closing the place up for the evening.
Tom fondled the stubble again, this time more slowly and tenderly, as the geezer exited the shop, switching the sign on the door to 'closed'.
"So you think I'm handsome...." Tom murmured in Rodney's ear.
He walked over to the window and drew the Venetian blinds shut.
He strode back to the chair with a gleam in his eye. "I think you would be even more handsome, totally awesome, if we didn't stop now with your transformation." The barber held up another set of clippers. "These are balding clippers, down to the skin....followed by some warm lather and a very sharp straight edge razor. Repeat. Lather. Scrape. And then the grand finale -- a splash of witch hazel on your shiny naked scalp which will sting something fierce, like a blistering paddle!"
Rodney heaved in the chair. "Take me down, all the way. Scrape me clean..." he groaned before exploding in unforgettable delight.