It Takes One to Know One by ClipperAddict

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Late Saturday afternoon standing at the checkout in CVS while the assistant is locating a book of stamps for me so I can mail a couple of graduation cards. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of gleaming WHITEwalls. He is 6’ 3" FRESHLY barbered with a high and tight buzz, #2 on top, stunning bald fade, groomed beard, and mustache. He’s wearing cargo shorts, flip-flops, and a tank top. I’m guessing early 30s and obviously works out. I’ve just turned 60 although I’m told I look younger (hope I do). Currently wearing my silver-grey hair in a grown-out boxy flat. I’m in shorts, flip-flops, and a plain colored polo shirt (average build). My eyes follow this fine specimen as he heads straight to the beer fridges, quickly picks up two boxes of a local IPA, and heads back to the self-checkout. As I’m wrapping up paying for my stamps he is out of the store, I feel like I missed an opportunity for some haircut interaction. "I’m new to the area, and couldn’t help notice your haircut. I’m looking for a good barber. You obviously have one." It’s a line I’ve used often to give me the opportunity to enjoy admiring a great haircut for a bit longer.

As fate would have it and I head towards my car, guess who is parked right next to me with his beer on the roof of his car as he searches through his pockets for his keys? Yes sir, Mr. Stud HnT. I just can’t help myself. My mouth is on autopilot and my line is out before I check myself. "Thanks, I literally just got it cut," he replies. "It’s my summer cut. You like it?". He catches me off guard with his confidence and charming smile. Now I’m closer, I notice his bright green eyes, the auburn highlights in his beard, and the slightly golden glints in his buzzcut. He rubs his hand up the smooth back of his head, over the crown, and across the top of his #2 buzz. He’s looking directly at me as I try unsuccessfully not to blush. "Yes, it uh looks great." I stutter. "I’m thinking of going shorter for summer too." He’s found his keys and unlocks his car door.

"What have you got going on this afternoon?" he asks casually.

"Nothing much," I reply kind of confused.

"How about I take you to the barbershop I go to and introduce you to my barber? You look like you’re past due for a cut.", he says.

"Umm, eh, what? I don’t want to impose. (Although I really do!) and you look like you’re on your way somewhere." I’m blushing profusely now and wriggling as my arousal is stretching my shorts and I’m trying to avoid him seeing my reaction. His eyes scan me up and down. Without saying anything I can tell he’s noticed and his grin gets even broader.

"Not at all. I’m just picking up some supplies. It’s absolutely no trouble. In fact, I’d really enjoy helping you out. What do you say?." He’s not taking no for an answer, and candidly I don’t want to refuse. I look at my watch. "Are you sure they’ll still be open? Most barbers are closed by now on a Saturday."

"Don’t worry.", he says, "I’m sure it will be open. Let’s go. You can follow me. It’s only 10 minutes max from here." He retrieves his beer from the car roof and puts it on the back seat. "You ready?".

"Sure," I say as I open my car and get in. He smiles again as he pulls out first, heads to the parking lot exit, and waits for me to follow. He signals to turn right and I can see he’s watching me in his mirror. I signal right also and pull out of the parking lot following him. He waves a thumbs up out of his car window when he sees me following. He heads North towards the next small town further out from the city. Like most of the communities around, it is growing fast, and it occurs to me it’s been some time since I ventured North. We’re passing the town square and he takes a right down one of the side streets. Up ahead I spot a stationary, unlit barber pole outside a white single-story "cottage". He pulls into a parking spot in front of the shop and I pull in beside him. It’s evident the shop is closed as the blinds are shut, the lights are off, and the neon Open sign is switched off. I look towards his car. He’s getting out. I roll down my window. "That’s what I was afraid of, most barbers close by 3 on a Saturday."

He smiles, jangles his keys, and says," No need to worry my friend. It’s about to reopen especially for you. Come on let’s get inside out of this heat." I am confused. It takes me some time to process and then I blurt out, "You’re a barber?". He laughs. "I had better be for your sake buddy. Come on, get your girly ass hair into my chair. One summer cut coming up." Once again I’m on autopilot and get myself out of the car and into his shop without thinking about it. He’s switched the lights on after entering the shop and ushers me to the old-fashioned red leather, white porcelain, and gleaming chrome Koken barber chair. "Take a seat, my friend. Make yourself comfortable. I will be right with you. Just got to get a couple of towels heating up for you. Help yourself to a beer while I’m getting ready. You OK if we leave the blinds closed and lock the door so no one else wanders in?"

My mind is conflicted as I process everything that’s happened in the last 15 minutes. Part of me says danger; I have no clue who this guy is. The other part can’t believe my luck; even my wildest haircut fantasies aren’t this good. "Eh sure that’s fine. I hope I’m not putting you to too much trouble?"

"Relax, my day has been pretty boring up until now. Business was kind of slow and seemed like every guy in my chair just wanted a trim or a boring business cut. That’s mostly why I decided to give myself a summer makeover. It was time to lose the shag. Can’t wait to give you your summer makeover. Hoping you’ll leave it up to me to decide?" he said, as those captivating eyes and bright eyes worked their magic.

OMG, is this really happening? "You have no idea how awesome that sounds," I reply.

"I think I have a pretty good idea actually. IT TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE. I saw that major woody when you were scanning my haircut at CVS. I wouldn’t recommend you play poker any time soon.", he chuckled. "Would I be right in guessing you have a thing for haircuts? I certainly do." I’m so hard and uncomfortable that I have to adjust myself in the chair. "That would be a YES.", he laughs. I nod. "If you want to loosen your shorts there my man feel free. Here, the cape will preserve your modesty a bit. Doesn’t bother me if you want to take care of business during your makeover. In fact, I’d enjoy you enjoying yourself. You know what, I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Mark."

"I’m Scott. Nice to meet you." I laughed. "You really did get my number and I’m noticing you have a similar situation to me." His shorts are tenting. "Perhaps we can help each other out?". He undoes his belt buckle and his shorts drop to the floor revealing a rather stretched, skimpy jockstrap containing a fine smoothly shaved cock and balls. "That’s a great idea Scott!", he says pushing his hand under the cape and grabbing my dick. He jerks it a few times before grabbing his cordless Osters 76. I’m facing the mirror and his workstation as he very obviously selects the 00000 blade. "This should do nicely." he teases. He flicks on the switch and places the humming blade at the center of my forehead.

I gulp and my eyes grow wide as I look right at him through the mirror. He moves slightly as if he’s about to bring the clippers straight back across the top of my head. "So tempting.", he says, pausing for what feels like an eternity before quickly lifting the clippers and bringing them straight back from my right temple. The clippers sever the silver-grey hair like a hot knife gliding through butter. The 2-inch wide path of skin is shiny white compared to my tanned face. His free hand follows the carnage and strokes the freshly revealed skin. "A great start, don’t you think?." I nod. "I really think you’d suit a baldy, but I’m going to restrain myself this time around. I can’t promise next time. So what to do?" he asks himself as he brings the clippers back from my left temple to complete the white ring of skin. He’s clearly still a bit undecided as he swiftly clears all the hair on the sides and back below the ring. He takes a moment to survey my head rubbing the shaggy top and looking at me from all angles. He puts his hand on his chin as he contemplates. "Mmmm, you have really great hair. I can tell a flat top works well on you. Looks like that’s what you had most recently. Eh, I know you like my hnt buzz, so that’s a possibility, but I’m actually thinking something else." He pauses for ages looking at me before starting up the clippers again. "Yup, that’s it. You’re getting a southside fade. Not too many guys your age could pull it off, but I bet you can, and it’s so unexpected. Yeah! Let’s do it." With that, he takes the 00000 Osters from the temple again only this time he’s headed up at an angle over the crown. His hard dick brushes my arm and I reach out to stroke it. He groans and almost purrs as he takes the clippers up the other side. "Be careful Scotty. You may end up with a baldy after all." Having decided on the southside fade he gets in the zone and takes the #1½ blade over the whole remaining top. The longer silver hair is falling all over. It is amazing to watch as he fades and blends from the 1½ to the skin. The feeling is so sensual as he goes over and over it. Then comes the foil razor all the way up the back and on the sides. The feel of the firm strokes is so sweet along with the rasping sound that starts loud and gets quieter as the bristles are eliminated.

Looking in the mirror, I can’t believe the transformation. As much as a tight southside fade turns me on, I never imagined getting one thinking of it as a younger man’s style. Just when I think it can’t get any better Mark fills his hands with hot lather and starts rubbing it all over the sides and back. I sigh deeply as he wraps my head in a steaming hot towel pushing hard with his hands to make sure the heat penetrates my skin. As he holds the towel on my head and my eyes are covered I sense his face coming close to mine. My lips tingle as I first feel his mustache and then his lips as he kisses me gently pushing my lips open with his tongue. We make out 3 or 4 times before he removes the towel. More lather is applied and the first shaving with the straight razor begins. He is meticulous in making sure every last spot is smooth. I’m feeling proud of myself for managing to refrain from shooting a load when he begins the hot lather shave process over again. This time as he leans in to kiss me he holds the towel with one hand and uses the other to pull on my dick. There is no turning back. I can feel it cumming and so can he as he deftly uses both hands to catch the fresh juice, whip the towel off, and spread it all over my head. The smell, the feel is too much. I pull him towards me and we kiss even more deeply before he applies more lather to complete the shave against the grain.

A quick rub of my head with one more hot towel followed quickly by an ice-cold towel brings me back to reality. He removes the cape from around my neck like a matador in the bull ring. "I’m so glad you decided to visit my barbershop today," he said smugly. "This style requires regular maintenance. Can I book you in for the same time next week?"
"Let me think about that. YES YES YES, and perhaps I can help you with the maintenance of your summer cut? After all, IT TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE."

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