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Jimmy Becomes Jim, part 4 by Alex

I'd just gotten the shortest haircut I'd ever had, and now my hunky barber was inviting me to go with them to hang out on the beach!

"Seb and I were about to head out to the beach and go for a quick afternoon dip in the waves," Curt had suggested. "You're welcome to tag along."

For a few moments, I thought he was joking, and then slowly realized he was serious.

How could I say no?

"Thank you, sir. I'd very much like that, to be honest."

I couldn't believe it! Was this real?!

At Curt's insistence, I left my t-shirt on the countertop. As I walked out of the barbershop, my tightly shorn scalp tingled in the beach breeze.

The three of us -- Curt, Seb, and I -- walked down to the beach just west of the barbershop. Seb was carrying a duffel bag. My head felt naked, stripped of so much hair. Every gust of wind felt like heaven on my shorn head. It was an exhilarating feeling. My scalp felt electrified. As we walked to the beach, Curt reached over and stroked the back of my shorn head. The reaction he was causing made me feel both embarrassed and exhilarated. I hoped neither Curt nor Seb could see I was hard in my shorts. I folded my hands over my crotch in what I hoped would disguise my reaction.

When we reached the beach, Curt pulled off his white t-shirt, revealing his big, hunky muscles. He was darkly tanned and so handsome. I was torn between looking away and looking. I couldn't help but stare at his muscular torso: his huge chest, his washboard abs, his thick neck, his ultra-short military-style haircut... He had the whole package! Then Curt peeled off his black trousers, and I saw his muscled legs. He was wearing just a white speedo. Oh my god!

Beside him, I saw Seb pulling off his Hawaiian shirt, and then his shorts. Under the shorts, he was only wearing a tiny red thong. He had a firm body that was very muscular, but not quite as ripped as Curt's. I could see Seb was quite hairless: from the top of his head to his feet, the only hair I saw were his eyebrows and eyelashes. Like Curt, Seb was very tan. They obviously spent a lot of time in the sun. I saw him bend down as he reached into the duffel bag and pulled out a football, which he tossed to me.

The three of us played football on the beach for several hours, only stopping occasionally to apply some sunscreen from a bottle they pulled from the duffel bag.

Curt told me it was important to protect my stripped scalp until the skin had tanned. He helped me apply the sunscreen to the back and sides of my head, and then massaged it into my scalp.

"We've gotta protect your scalp, Jim," Curt said, as his fingertips massaged the lotion into my scalp: across the shaved back, and up over the short stubble on top.

As his strong fingers trailed over my head, I had never been so hard. I leaned back against him, as he whispered in my ear. "Gotta make sure we get every square inch of your scalp, boy."

As I leaned back against him, I could feel he was hard, too.

"How's this feel, Jim?"

"It feels good, sir." I said. That was understating things. I pressed my back more firmly up against his hard, muscular body.

"Yeah?" he whispered. He began applying sunscreen to my neck, and down to my shoulders and then arms.

"Yeah," I said.

Curt worked his way down from the top of my head, down to my ankles, applying the sunscreen. When he was done applying sunscreen to me, I did him, too.

Then we continued the football game, until, covered with sand, we headed back to the barbershop at dusk.

To be continued...

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