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Sunday Afternoon in Atlanta by Shant
It was another typical Sunday afternoon in Atlanta. A group of my friends and I went to Bulldogs to stretch the weekend out a little longer.
Bulldogs was the type of bar where all you saw were masculine looking guys. There were no twinks, no fems, no women, just a room full of normal guys.
It had been Gay Pride that weekend and all the bars were really crowded. It was so packed that you were able to move only a couple inches at a time. It was impossible to avoid physical contact with anyone that was standing around you. I felt a lot of hands playing with my butt, but I just ignored it.
As I tried my best to make my way across the room, my chest brushed up against another guy’s chest, that’s how packed the bar was. I looked up at him, and there standing before me was one of the best looking guys I had seen all weekend.
I didn’t even hesitate, and said to him, "How have I not seen you all weekend? You are by far, the most handsome, hottest looking man I have seen."
He looked me in the eye, smiled, and said, "You’re a really hot looking man yourself. How would you like to get out of here?"
He didn’t have to ask me twice. He was so good looking and was definitely one of the most striking men I had seen.
I never really thought much about my looks. I knew that I looked better than average, but I never really thought about it. I had people say that I was good looking, handsome even. I was 5’ 10’’ and weighed 160 pounds. I had a 42 inch chest with a 32 inch waist and my biceps were 15 inches. I had been working out for over fifteen years and the work had paid off. One thing I did know, was that I had a great body.
I also knew I had a really great head of hair and knew how lucky I was to have it. My father, at thirty, was almost totally bald. Fortunately, I got my hair from my mother’s side of the family. They were originally from Scotland and most of us had the typical thick, blond/red hair that Scots usually have.
I had let my hair grow out over the past several months and it was now about six inches long on top and about four inches on the sides and back. It parted naturally down the middle and totally covered my ears and hung well below my collar. There was a slight wave to my hair, so it didn’t just hang straight down.
My goal was to let it grow for about another year. I had always wanted to see how my hair would look really long. I loved it so much and enjoyed it more and more the longer it got. I really had an immense head of hair.
On the way to the guy’s hotel room he told me his name was Ken and that he lived in Charlotte and had come down for the weekend, just like I had. That was encouraging news because if I ever were to hook up with this guy again, Charlotte was about an hour closer to my home than Atlanta.
Ken asked me what kind of work I did, and did I like my job, along with the typical questions you usually ask when you meet someone.
When I asked him what he did for a living, he really surprised my when he said that he was a barber.
"I really wish there was a barber that was as hot looking as you are where I live. I’d be in your barber chair all the time. I really love great hair. That explains that fantastic hair you have. You really have an awesome looking mane," I said.
His hair was pretty much like mine, only his hair was really blond, and about two inches shorter. I had a suspicion it was not his natural color, but it looked fantastic because it was so thick and stood up so well.
"Thanks," he said. "That’s quite a head of hair you have there, too. I’d love to get you back to my room and brush your hair. It’s always great fun getting to play with a great head of hair, and you definitely have that. I can never get enough playing with an awesome head of hair."
"Sounds good to me," I said. "I love it if a guy brushes my hair. It’s such a turn on. I’ve always been attracted by a guy with great hair, and I think we will really have some fun together."
We got back to his room and he made us another drink. I had already had too many, but I knew that I was not going home tonight and I already knew where I would be staying, so I just decided to keep on partying. Ken pulled out a joint and it was really great pot. I had never been known to refuse getting high and I ended up getting totally wasted.
After awhile, Ken told me to sit in the chair that was in the room so that he could brush my hair. I wasted no time in sitting down. I couldn’t wait to have his hands running through my hair.
"Man, your hair really is awesome," he said. "How much longer are you going to let it grow?"
"I’ve had my hair short for a long time and decided about six months ago that I was going to grow it out until I didn’t like the way it looked. Right now, I really love the length it is."
"I think I’m going to let it grow for another year and it will be about six inches longer than it is now. I have never had long hair and I think that every guy that has good hair should grow his hair long, at least once."
"Have you ever had really long hair?" I asked him. "I think that the haircut you have now looks really great. I may have to end up driving to Charlotte to get my hair cut when I decide it’s time for me to cut it."
"I’m thinking about going for a big change and get a really short haircut when I do decide it’s time for it to go. I don’t know the exact haircut yet, but I think it will be a huge rush getting a really short haircut after having my hair long."
"I’d love it if I get to do that for you!" Ken said. "Long, thick hair is the absolute best to play with," he said, as he started getting his hands in my hair. It was so relaxing sitting in the chair and having him brush my hair.
It had been a very long time since anyone had brushed my hair. He alternated between brushing it or running his hands through it. "Your hair has such great texture and body that just running my hands through it, causes it to stand up so well. Your hair really is something," he said.
I found myself starting to fall asleep. I realized I had drank too much and smoked too much, but I felt that Ken was a good guy and I didn’t have to worry. I hoped that I would wake up enough to get to play with him.
Ken went into the bathroom and came back out and continued brushing my hair. "I know you said you wanted to grow your hair out another six inches, but that really is long. I’ll be surprised if you actually do it."
"You know, you really don’t have to wait and come to Charlotte to have me cut your hair. I could do it right here and now. I’d love to give you a haircut. How about if I cut your hair for you?"
I really was pretty much out of it by then, and didn’t catch what he was saying. I didn’t say anything back to him. I just sat there and enjoyed having him brush and play with my hair.
I must have dozed off for awhile. When I woke up, I felt that something was strange. I realized that I had hair all over me! Ken was just standing behind me and cutting my hair off, one lock at a time!
"What are you doing? Are you crazy? I can’t believe you are cutting my hair!" I said to him.
"Relax," Ken said. "You said that you really liked my haircut, so I thought I would surprise you and cut your hair to look like mine. I asked you if it would be okay if I gave you a haircut and you didn’t say anything, so I figured that it was okay to go ahead and do it."
"I think you look really hot! Now you can start letting it grow out and whenever we get together, I’ll trim it for you. Who knows? Maybe I’ll start growing mine out too, and then we’ll really have some fun times when we get together."
I knew there really wasn’t much that I could do. Fortunately, he was a barber, so I figured that the haircut would at least be okay.
It really pissed me off though that he had cut off about three inches of my hair. That meant six months of growth had been cut off. If I wanted to get my hair to the length I had told Ken that I did, it would now take me eighteen months to do it!
I sat there as he finished the haircut. He was really enjoying himself. I could see the smile on his face as he kept taking my hair down shorter and shorter.
Little did he know that while he was finishing cutting my hair, I was plotting my revenge. I watched him as he finished, and saw where he put his barbering tools. We then played around a little more, and then both fell fast asleep.
In the middle of the night, I woke up. I got dressed, in case I needed to make a quick exit. I went into the bathroom and found his scissors and came back to the bed. I patiently took my time, being certain that he was really out of it, and would not be waking up any time soon.
I was so angry that he had cut my hair that I thought I would teach him a lesson. Ever so gently, I took the scissors and put them into his hair and cut off about two inches of his awesome locks. I didn’t care about the sides and back, I was just going to take the top down. I chopped about two inches off the entire top of his head. There was beautiful blond hair all around him. I wish I could be there to see his reaction, but there was no way I dared do that!
I put the scissors down on the bed, quietly opened the door, and left. I got in my car and headed back to where I was staying, and never saw him again!