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Four Brothers and Me by Shant


STORY CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT

This story did not happen all at one time, but occurred over a period of about six years. I know this may be hard to believe, but this story is completely true.
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It was the late 60’s. I grew up in a very small town with a total population of less than 400 people. Everyone knew everyone, and most of us started kindergarden together, and knew each other all through high school.

The town was so small that there was not a barbershop. Unless you were lucky enough to have a parent drive you twenty miles to the nearest one, you usually ended up having one of your parent’s cut your hair.

I had a hair fetish for as long as I can remember. I can’t ever remember not being fascinated by a guy with really great hair. I knew that all I ever wanted to do was become a barber.

When I was about thirteen, I started cutting most of my friend’s hair for them. They would all rather have me cut their hair, instead of one of their parents. Their parents were fine with this, just one less thing for them to have to deal with.

The Premo family was the largest family in our small town. There were nine children, five boys and four girls. The age span was so great that the two oldest had already graduated from high school before the last child was born. There were two sets of twins in the family.

Four of the guys were around my age. The oldest boy’s name was Don, followed by Victor, Tommy and Peter. They were spaced about two years apart. I was the same age as Victor, and he and I were in the same grade, but I knew all three of his brothers really well.

I never saw any of the brothers do anything together. It was like they had no connection at all, which seemed odd, seeing that I was friends with all of them. I hardly remember ever seeing these guys even talking to each other. It really was a strange family dynamic.

To look at them, you would never think that any of them were brothers. Physically, they all looked different from each other, but they were all good looking in their own way. Their father was part Native American and almost all the children had the same thick, dark brown hair.

One thing the four of them and I had in common was that we had father’s who hated long hair and really enjoyed when school ended and they gave us our summer haircut and chopped all our hair off.

The brothers all had completely different looking hair. We were always hoping our father’s would not notice us, and leave us alone. At one time or another, we all got some pretty awful haircuts.

My earliest experiences getting my hands in another guy’s hair was with all four of these brothers. Throughout my high school and early college years, I had several memorable "hair times" with each of them. I thought it would be fun to put some of the stories together and write about them. It brought back a lot of memories.



DON AND HIS CURLS

Of the four brothers, Don, the oldest, was easily the most in love with his own hair. Don was just a couple years older than I was. He was probably the best looking of the four brothers. He knew that he was good looking and was really vain about how great his hair was.

He really did have a nice head of hair. The easiest way to describe his hair was if you had ever seen the tv show, Leave it to Beaver. His hair looked almost exactly the way the older brother, Wally, wore his hair, only it was a little longer.

This show was before our time, but the first time I saw an episode, I immediately realized how Don’s hair looked so much like Wally’s. The sides were medium length and were brushed back and swept up and back into the top. His hair was wavy and very thick. The top, which was longer, was a beautiful dark brown color, and was a mass of loose curls.

One day when I was at his house, Don was the only one home, and he was sleeping on the sofa in the living room. He was flat on his back and was in a really deep sleep.

I somehow got up my nerve and stood behind him and started running my fingers through his hair. It was so awesome, especially with this being the first time I had ever even touched his hair.

He didn’t move a muscle, and I got up my nerve a little more, and took out my comb and combed all his pretty curls. He had been painting that day and there was paint in his hair. I ever so carefully combed all the paint out of his hair.

He woke up once, and asked me what I was doing? I told him just to relax and that I was just getting the paint out of his hair. He didn’t say anything else, and fell back asleep.

I probably spent about thirty more minutes combing his hair all different ways. I brushed it all back, I parted it on one side, and then the other, but the thing I enjoyed most, was just running my hands through his beautiful curls.

When he woke up, he told me he could vaguely remember me saying that I was combing his hair. He said he really enjoyed me doing it, and that he would like to comb my hair for me sometime. I really looked forward to him doing that.

Whenever he and I got together, somehow the topic of hair would get brought up. One time, he asked me to take a tape measure and measure the length of one of his curls for him. When I measured it, it was over six inches long. Being curly, you would never have guessed that his hair was so long.

"I thought my hair was getting pretty long," Don said. "It’s feeling thicker and thicker all the time because the curls are getting longer. I love how it’s looking."

"Dad told me last week that I needed to get a haircut. I really like the way my hair looks now, and I’d like to see it be an inch, or even two inches longer, before I get it cut."

"I need to make certain that I keep a low profile around him and just stay out of his way. He has so many of us to deal with that hopefully he’ll forget all about my hair."

Another time when we were together, I was complaining about how much I hated how the front of my hair was so wavy, and I couldn’t get it to look the way I wanted. The sides and back were easy to keep under control, but I could never get the front to look right.

"Why is it that you can get all those curls you have to fall perfectly into place, and I can’t get just one to look the way I want?" I said to him.

"I think your hair in front is too long for you to be able to do much with, especially that big curl you have," he said. "How about letting me cut the front down shorter for you? I think you’d have a lot better chance having it look the way you want, if it’s shorter."

"After I cut your hair I’d like to tackle that curl and see what I can do with it," Don said. "Seeing that I’m so used to working with all the curls I have, I think I could get the one you have to look a lot better. Come on, and let me cut it for you! Wouldn’t you rather have me cut it, instead of your father?"

I had not had a haircut in a couple of months and the front was hanging in my eyes. I knew that it was too long and needed to be cut. My dad was just like Don’s. Eventually, I would come under his radar, and I’d be sitting in a chair, and he would be cutting my hair however he wanted.

I knew I would definitely rather have Don cut my hair. "Sure," I said. "Your hair looks so great all the time that I’d trust you to cut mine." Actually, the thought of Don combing and cutting my hair was something I had thought about many times.

I sat down in a chair in the kitchen and Don placed a towel around my shoulders. He combed all my hair straight forward. The front was just long enough to touch my lips. I think this was probably the longest my hair had ever been.

Don took his comb and lifted up my forelock. "You definitely have a lot of hair, here," he said. "I bet we’ll be able to control that curl once it’s shorter." Don then cut off about two inches of my hair on top and about an inch off the sides and back. He said that he had never cut anyone’s hair before, but he really did a good job.

This was the first time anyone other than a barber, or my father, had ever cut my hair, but that didn’t bother me at all. I was loving having Don’s hands in my hair. After he cut the front, he wet it slightly and used his blowdryer and brushed it all back.

The curl was nowhere near as obvious, and I was really happy with the way it looked. Hopefully, this might let me not have my father cut my hair anytime soon. How my hair usually ended up looking, depended on the mood my father was in, when he cut it.

Don then surprised me and asked me if I would like to wash his hair for him? "Can I comb it for you after I wash it? You’ve got such great hair. I’m so envious of how it looks. I’d like to see how I could get it to look. Would that be okay?"

"Why not?" Don said. "I’d like to see what you could do with my hair. It’s not the easiest hair to comb because of all the curls on top."

Don leaned over the kitchen sink and I wet his hair and then started washing it for him. His hair was so thick and long. His curls made his hair look a lot shorter, but when I got my hands in them, it was amazing to see how long they really were. I was having a blast!

Once I finished combing his awesome hair perfectly into place, I got up my nerve and asked him if I could play barber, and cut off just one of his curls?

At first, he said, "No way," and that was the end of the conversation. A little while later, he suddenly changed his mind and said, "Oh, why the hell not let you cut one of my curls? You let me give you an entire haircut and I really had fun doing it, so go ahead and cut one of them off."

"My hair is so thick, and with all the curls, and it brushed up and back, there is no way that a single curl missing will ever be noticed. I also know that pretty soon Dad will probably make me cut most of them off anyway."

I combed his hair again and then I selected a curl on top towards the back of his head. I lifted it up and took the scissors and cut off about four inches of his great hair. I so wished that I could get to cut more of it, but I hoped that maybe one day I would.

A couple weeks went by. One day, Don was helping his dad and they drove into the next town to pick up supplies. On the way back home, Don’s father suddenly pulled off the road, and into the parking lot of a barber shop.

"Time for you to get that hair cut," Don’s dad said. Don knew that he could not tell his father that he didn’t want his hair cut, and followed him into the shop.

There were no customers ahead of them, only the one barber, Harold, who was easily over 80.

You could see the huge smile on his face when they walked in. Harold had cut the father’s hair just last week and knew that this meant that Don was going to be the one sitting in his chair. Don had such beautiful hair that the old barber always enjoyed getting his hands in it and having some fun.

"So, what’ll it be today?" Harold asked, as Don sat down in the chair, and he caped him up and began combing his hair.

"Looks like you’ve been growing it out awhile. I don’t think I can remember you ever having your hair this long before." This was exactly what Don didn’t need his father to hear, fearing that it would only make things even worse.

He was right. Don didn’t get a chance to say a word, before his father said, "I’ve been after him to get his hair cut now for months, but he always finds a way to weasle his way out of it. I want you to cut the sides and the back down short and leave no more than an inch on top."

"I’m sick of all those girlie curls of his. It drives me crazy whenever I see him always combing all that pretty hair he has. It’s so obvious how much he loves his hair."

"It will be good for him to get rid of it for awhile and realize there are more important things in life than just thinking about how good looking he thinks he is." Don cringed, knowing what was in store for him.

Harold was beaming when he heard the instructions the father had just given him. He knew from previous experiences that Don had absolutely no say in what kind of haircut he would be getting.

He combed Don’s hair and it was exactly six inches long on top. Harold was so stoked knowing he was going to cut off so much of Don’s beautiful hair.

He combed his hair one final time into place and started by using his scissors, and starting at the front, lifted up a lock at a time, and chopped off over four inches of lovely curls.

You could see how much this old guy was loving getting to cut off so much awesome hair. He aggressively chopped off lock after lock and made certain that they fell onto Don’s lap. He got even more of a charge out of this, because he knew how much Don was hating what was happening to him.

Don just sat there without saying a word, knowing it would do no good saying anything. When Harold finished cutting his hair, there was such a huge pile in his lap. He couldn’t believe that he just had so much of his beautiful hair cut off!

"There, that should last you for awhile," Harold said. Don hated how short his hair was. He and his father got in the truck and drove the rest of the way home without even saying a word.



VICTOR GETS A FLATTOP

Victor was the first guy I ever fooled around with. We were pretty young and really innocent. He stayed overnight alot. Basically, we just kissed and snuggled. I didn’t even know that oral sex existed then.

Victor was the one to first initiate our playing together. It really wasn’t much of a turn on for me, but it did give me a lot of times to play with his hair.

One time at the house, there were about four of us guys hanging out together. Victor got up and went to my room and didn’t come back out and join the group. I went in to see what was going on, and he was fast asleep on my bed.

I took out my comb and started combing his hair. I knew that if he woke up that he would be totally okay with what I was doing. Another one of the guys, Terry, came into my room to see what was going on.

Terry also had a beautiful head of hair. It was jet black, super thick, and probably around six inches on top, and four inches on the sides. He always wore it greased up and combed into a great pompadour. I cut his hair for him several times.

Terry came over beside me and surprised me by pulling out a pair of scissors and started cutting off locks of Victor’s hair. He was taking about an inch in length and half an inch in width, so with all the thick hair Victor had, it really wasn’t noticeable.

He continued cutting off Victor’s hair, and then took my comb from me and handed me the scissors. He then combed Victor’s hair and I cut it. We probably cut about twelve locks of his hair, but it wasn’t obvious at all. As a matter of fact, we never even told Victor that we had cut it.

I remember one summer and school had just ended. My father always cut my hair, and he was actually a pretty good barber, when he wanted to be.

Unfortunately, my father was a lot like the brother’s father, George. I knew when it was best to make myself invisible around him. I knew that as soon as school ended, I would be getting my hair cut for the summer, and did my best to avoid him.

I really liked having my hair long and always hated knowing that he would be giving me a short haircut, whether I wanted one or not.

My dad and I had practically no relationship at all. About the only time we spent any time together was when he gave me a haircut. I was just not the son he wanted, and we had absolutely nothing in common.

My dad was also the town drunk. He was okay when he was sober, but a real mean streak emerged when he was drinking.

One night, I was sitting in the living room watching tv when he staggered into the room. I could tell that he was really drunk and stood up to leave to avoid any type of confrontation with him.

"Where do you think you’re going?" he said. "You sit yourself down in that chair and I’m going to cut your hair." I knew there was no point in trying to avoid what was going to happen, and just did what he said.

As he started combing my hair, he exclaimed, "How the hell have I let you get your hair so long? Look at all this girlie hair that you have! Well, you definitely won’t be needing it for the summer!" He then just started grabbing locks of my hair and chopping them off. He made no attempt at trying to make it look good.

He brutually chopped off all my hair a lock at a time, and threw them into my lap. It was like he was taking out all his anger on me, and at the same time, I could see how much he was enjoying ruining my hair.

He then put the number 2 guard on his clippers and forced my head down with my chin almost touching my chest. He had never been this rough with me before. The next thing I knew, he was buzzing off all my hair. I expected to get a short haircut each summer, but he had never buzzed my hair completely off before.

"There, that should take care of your hair for the summer. The next time I cut it will be before school starts. I’ve wanted you to get rid of that pretty boy hair for a long time now."

I got up and left the room without saying a word. I vowed right then and there that he was never going to cut my hair again. I found my baseball cap and wore it for several weeks until my hair started growing out a little so that no one could see the shearing he had given me.

I worked for a local farmer over the summer. I saved enough money that from then on I hitch hiked twenty miles to the nearest town and had the barber there cut my hair. My father never got to touch my hair again.

The barber’s name was Vern. He was a young guy and had a great head of red hair. The first time I sat in his chair and he combed my hair, he told me that I had one of the best head’s of hair of anyone he had ever cut.

I told him about my father and the haircuts he had given me, and his response was, "What a prick! You have such great hair, there’s no reason for you not to get it to look the way you want."

Victor worked for the same farmer that I did. He had great hair. It was deep black, very thick, and perfectly straight. It had a slightly coarse texture which allowed him to brush it all back and it stood up so well. If his father didn’t cut his hair off all the time, he could wear an awesome flattop.

He had always wanted to get a flattop, but his father wasn’t a good enough barber to cut one. He also didn’t want to take the time to cut it like that, so he just buzzed it all off.

Victor was like the rest of his brothers and was always on the lookout when it came to his father. I think his father really got a kick out of buzzing off all his son’s hair, especially knowing how much they didn’t want him to do it.

About two weeks after my father had chopped off all my hair, Victor and I were working in the cornfield. His father had not cut his hair yet and I really thought it looked awesome. I thought I’d see if I could convince him to get a haircut like mine.

"If I got my hair cut short, would you get your’s cut short too, so that I wouldn’t be the only guy with a haircut like that?" I asked.

"Sure, why not," Victor said. "It’s hot as hell out here all day and it would be a lot easier. Would you really cut off all your hair though? I know how much you love your hair, and you’re lucky because your father dosen’t cut it off all the time. It probably won’t be too long before I catch my father’s eye, and I’ll be getting a haircut."

I took off my hat and revealed that the six inches of hair that had been on my head was gone and that I now had a short buzzcut.

"Wow, I can’t believe all your hair is gone! When did your dad cut it?" Victor asked.

"It’s been over two weeks now. That’s why I’ve been wearing the hat. Just seeing it starting to grow out a little makes it easier to deal with. He put the #2 guard on the clippers and ran them all over my head. I could tell he really enjoyed cutting all my hair off! I told myself after that haircut that he was never going to cut my hair again."

"That would be great if you got your hair cut like mine. I’ve got the clippers at the house, so let’s go back there after we finish work and I’ll give you a buzzcut. You certainly won’t have to worry about your dad cutting it then."

When we got back to my house, I said, "If you’re going to let me cut your hair short like mine, how about letting me try cutting it a different way before I buzz it all off? You know that I want to be a barber, and this would give me a great chance to get in some practice."

"I know you’ve always wanted to try a flattop but your dad won’t take the time to cut it like that. How about letting me try giving you one? It’d be fun seeing how different you look, and it’s all going to be coming off anyway. I’d like to try and see if I would be any good at cutting it like that."

"Sure, that would be great," Victor said. "I’d like to see how different it could look. I think it would be fun." At the present time his hair was about two inches long on the sides and back and almost four on the top. Like all the rest of his brothers, it was super thick.

Victor was the least vain about his hair compared to any of his brothers. He didn’t seem to realize how great his hair could look if he could get his father to quit cutting it.

After being out in the hot sun all day, I first washed his hair. I think nothing looks sexier than long, thick, wet black hair, because it shines so much when it is first combed. Every beautiful strand stands out. Even though Victor wasn’t vain about his hair, he did enjoy having me pay so much attention to it.

This would be the first time that I had ever used clippers. I was a little nervous, but then again, knowing I couldn’t mess it up, eliminated a lot of the stress regarding how it turned out.

I didn’t want to start out too short. I put a #3 guard on the clippers and ran them up the back and sides, turning them out as I reached the top of Victor’s head. I figured this would give me enough hair to square up.

I then vigorously took the blowdryer and brushed all of his four inches of hair on top straight up and back. I was loving getting to run my hands through his hair and play with it.

His hair stood up almost perfectly straight without using any type product at all. I then took my wide tooth comb and placed it at the front of his hairline. I combed the front straight up and took more than two inches of hair that was standing above the comb and cut it off.

I worked my way to the back, and with his hair being so thick and standing up so great, I thought I was doing a pretty good job cutting my first flattop. Victor was smiling throughout the entire haircut. It was probably one of the first times he ever got to relax when getting his hair cut.

When I finished, I stood back and looked at his haircut. I really outdid myself. It looked great. I turned Victor towards the mirror and he saw himself with a flattop for the very first time.

"Oh, man! This really looks awesome!" he said. "I’ve wanted to see myself with a flattop for years and I love how it looks."

"My hair is shorter than any of my brothers. It’s only a little over an inch long on top. Maybe it will be short enough for my father that he won't make me cut it. But, no. I’m sure he will probably cut it all off, anyway. I think he just gets a sick sense of enjoyment getting to do whatever he wants to our hair."

Surprisingly enough, Victor’s father left him alone and did not cut his hair. This began my giving him a flattop lots of times.

Another time, I remember during the school year when we were in about eighth grade, Victor’s father gave him the worst haircut I had ever seen. There were gouges all over his head and it was buzzed all the way down to his scalp. I felt so sorry for him, because he had to go to school and everyone made fun of how he looked.



TOMMY GETS A "REAL MAN’S" HAIRCUT

The word around town was that Tommy did not have the same father the rest of his brothers and sisters had. All eight of his siblings had hair that ranged from dark brown to almost black. Tommy had a beautiful head of light blonde hair.

Like all his siblings, his hair was very thick. When he could keep it the way he liked it, the top was about six inches long and the sides were over three inches. He brushed everything all up and back and blended it all into the top. Think of Elvis as a blonde, and that’s how Tommy’s hair looked.

If he combed the sides down, instead of back, they would cover almost his entire ears. He never combed them that way though, fearing his father would notice and cut his hair.

He always wore his hair slicked back and patted down trying to hide how long it was. If his father had left him alone, he would have had one of the greatest looking pompadours that anyone in our school had. He couldn’t wait till he finished high school and his father could no longer order him to do anything.

It was pretty obvious that Tommy’s father treated him differently from the other children. I don’t know if it was because he thought that Tommy was not his son, but he seemed to take a lot of his aggression out on him, especially when he was cutting his hair.

I remember one time when Tommy and I were just hanging out at his house. His father came into the room and you could just tell by the look on his face that he was in a bad mood.

He took one look at Tommy and said, "You sit your ass down in that chair. I’ll be right back." Tommy knew what was coming. His father was going to cut his hair.

His father came back with his barber kit in his hands. He grabbed Tommy’s forelock and said, "How the hell has your hair gotten so long? I must have missed cutting it a few times. We’ll take care of that right now!"

He plunged his hands into Tommy’s hair and roughly pulled it all back. He savagely attacked Tommy’s hair and took great delight in destroying it.

Tommy actually cried when his father started cutting his hair because he knew that he was going to ruin it. His father had no guard on the clippers, and when he finished, he had completely buzzed all his hair off. Being so blonde, he looked totally bald.

I sat there and watched the whole thing happen. It was painful to see how much his father enjoyed doing this to him.

When he finished, he turned to me, and said, "Do you want to get a haircut too? You sure look like you need one. Have a seat and I’ll be glad to cut it for you."

I told him thanks, but my dad had already told me that he was going to cut my hair this weekend. This was a total lie, but there was no way in hell I was going to let him get his hands on my hair!

The following summer the two of us went swimming and then went back to my house. With school just ending, Tommy knew that it was only a matter of time before his dad would be in a bad mood and would take it out on him by cutting off all his hair again. This happened every summer, and he dreaded each day, knowing that it was soon going to happen.

"I’ve decided I’m not going to give my father the satisfaction of cutting my hair off this summer," Tommy said. "I know how much he enjoys doing it."

"I want you to go ahead and give me a haircut so that he doesn’t get to do it. I want you to cut it down really short. I want a real man’s haircut, and then maybe he’ll leave me alone. I want to look like a real man!" he kept saying over and over. "If you screw it up, you can buzz it all off. I’d rather have you do it than him!"

That was all the encouragement I needed. I brushed all his hair back. It was beautiful. The color was really nice. It was easy to see why he loved his hair so much and why he dreaded letting his father get his hands in it.

Probably the haircut I thought looked best, was a guy having the sides and back tapered down short and then the top, if it had enough body to stand up well, be about three to four inches long, and then brushed all up and back. I thought that haircut showed off a guy’s hair more than just about any other haircut.

I told him that was the way I was going to cut his hair, if that was okay with him. "Do it!" he said. I was having such a great time cutting his hair. When I finished, it really did look good, and it really showed off how great his hair was. "What do you think of the haircut?" I asked him.

"I love how it looks, and when I’m no longer living at home, this is exactly the way I want you to cut it for me. It really does show off my hair."

"Unfortunately, my dad would notice it even sooner with the top standing up so much. The more it stands up, the sooner I’ll be sitting in his chair and he’ll be cutting it off."

"I don’t want to let him get to enjoy doing that. How about if you take about two inches more off the top? I’ll still be able to comb it back, but it won’t draw as much attention. I hate that I can’t leave it the way that it is, but I know if I do, what the outcome will be."

"I understand. It does suck that you have to cut so much of your awesome hair off, but you’re right, and it’s the smartest thing to do. I’ve seen your father give you some pretty awful haircuts."

"How about if you let me comb your hair a bit more before I cut it again? I really think that it looks great and I’d like to try combing it different ways and seeing how it would look. Then I’ll take off another two inches. Why do our father’s have to be such assholes?"

I really enjoyed getting to play with his hair. I combed it awhile longer and then picked up my scissors and cut off a little more than two inches off the top. Seeing his beautiful hair fall into his lap was a major rush.

His father left him alone that summer. I guess his hair was not long enough for his dad to notice. That began me cutting his hair all the time, letting it grow out a little once summer was over, and then cutting it down short again the following summer.

If Tommy’s dad mentioned his hair even one time, he would immediately come to my house and have me cut his hair for him. I got a lot of my hair cut training working on Tommy’s hair, and once he finished high school and moved out, I began to give him different style haircuts all the time.

As much as I enjoyed playing and combing all the brother’s hair, no one other than, Don, when he cut my curl, had ever put their hands in my hair.

Tommy was the only brother to ever turn the tables on me. I was home alone in the middle of the afternoon and I was taking a nap. I was in a real deep sleep and thought something was buzzing around my head, but paid no attention to it and kept on sleeping.

When I eventually woke up, I discovered Tommy, sitting behind me on the bed, combing my hair. It surprised me, but I was more than fine with it. "I like you combing my hair," I said.

"I didn’t want to wake you up, so I thought it would be fun to see how I could get your hair to look, since you’ve cut mine so many times," he said with a smile.

I guess I dozed off for a few more minutes. When I woke up, Tommy was still combing my hair, but it felt different in some way.

"I’ve been having a great time playing with your hair," Tommy said. "How do you think it looks?"

He handed me a mirror and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! He had cut about an inch off all my hair on top! My hair was probably over four inches long before he cut it, so it really didn’t affect how it looked. I actually was thrilled that he had cut it.

"You’re not mad at me are you?" Tommy said. "I only cut a little off. I justed wanted to see what it felt like to play barber."

I brushed my hair into place and realized he had not done any damage. It looked fine. I knew I couldn’t be mad at him for cutting my hair, if I wanted to continue cutting his.

"No, it’s okay," I replied. "It looks fine. With the way our father’s are, I now know that if I need a quick trim to stay away from him and his clippers, I can have you cut it for me."



PETER LOSES HIS HELMET HAIR

Peter, being the youngest, I really didn’t get to know until after I went to college. The college was only twenty miles from where I grew up, so I went home for a night whenever I wanted.

I was driving through town and saw him walking down the street. I had been hoping I would run into him sometime when I came home because I had a lot of clothes I no longer wore and thought he would probably like to have them.

I pulled over to the side of the road and said, "Hey, how’s it going? I was hoping I would run into you sometime. I’ve got all these clothes I no longer wear and thought maybe you would like to have them."

"Sure, that would be great." he said. Peter hopped into the car and we headed to my house. Seeing that I knew all his brothers, we had plenty of things to talk about.

When we got to the house we went in and I showed him the clothes I no longer wanted. He was thrilled seeing how many clothes there were."

We were talking, and after awhile, I said to him, "Man, that is some head of hair you have there. Your father is obviously a lot less strict about long hair than he was with your brothers. They never had hair anywhere near the length you have now."

"Yeah, he’s not as bad as he used to be, but I still do my best to avoid him as much as I can because I never know when he might decide he wants to cut it. He's given me several really bad looking haircuts."

"I really love my hair and I definitely don’t want him to cut it," Peter said. "I’m afraid that one day he will just tell me to sit down in the chair and he’ll cut almost all of it off."

"I had seen him do that to Victor and Tommy many times. He made Don keep his hair short, but he never ruined his hair the way he did Victor and Tommy. Victor never really reacted to what dad did, but Tommy would totally break down in tears while dad buzzed off all his hair."

Peter’s hair was very dark, very thick, very straight, and was slightly coarse, like Victor’s. He wore it parted down the middle and it almost reached his shoulders. His ears were covered entirely.

The really awesome thing about his hair was that there was just so much of it. It was all one length and being so thick, made him look like he really had a massive head of hair. He looked like he had a helmet on his head. I couldn’t believe his father let him get away with it.

"You’ve got such great hair," I said to him. "Have you ever thought about getting it layered, instead of being all one length? I think it would really look a lot better if you had it cut like that."

"You just look like you have so much hair. You’d be amazed at how you could leave it as long as it is now, but by layering it, it would not look so bulky. I cut all the guy’s hair in my fraternity and I’d love to give you a haircut like that."

"You would probably have a better chance of your father not noticing your hair and cutting it, because it would not look like you had so much hair. Want to try it? Come on, and let me cut it for you. I promise it will really look good."

"I’d like that," Peter said. "I really like my long hair, but you are right, there is just too much of it. It is way too thick. If you can make it look more tamed down that would be great."

"Let’s go into the bathroom and let me wash your hair first. Then we’ll slightly dry it and then I’ll only use scissors and layer it. You won’t believe how different it will look, but it will still almost be touching your shoulders."

After I finished washing his hair, I took my blowdryer and brushed his hair all straight back, with it no longer being parted down the center. All of his hair was over ten inches long. I stood in front of him and combed his forelock to get it as high as I could get it, just so I could look at how beautiful it was.

I started cutting his hair, combing it into individual sections and layering it. As I finished cutting one section, I walked around to the other side to begin cutting another section. I wasn’t sure, but I thought that his shoulder brushed slightly against the front of my jeans.

I really didn’t think anything about it, and continued the haircut. I brushed the front all straight up and back again. As I reached for my scissors and was getting ready to begin cutting, I definitely felt a hand rub across the crotch of my pants. I knew for certain that was not an accident.

Peter and I had never even talked about anything sexual. I hadn’t come out yet, and had no idea that he was gay.

I put my scissors down and brushed his hair back some more and then feeling more aggressive, ran my hands over and over through his hair. It was so beautiful!

Running my hands through his hair was such a turn on that I took both my hands and pulled all his hair straight back. This caused him to look up at me. I could see that he was smiling, so I leaned over and kissed him.

I was feeling such an incredible rush, and I still had all his beautiful hair on top and in the back to cut. Peter reached forward and unzipped my pants and pulled out my dick and started playing with it.

I certainly didn’t object, and before I knew it, he was giving me a blowjob. He was about four years younger than I was, and it surprised me that he was being so aggressive.

"I think your hair is starting to look really great. How about I finish the back, and then we’ll decide how much to cut off the top? It will really look less massive and will look a lot more under control. I bet your father won’t even think about you needing to get a haircut."

"I think you’re right," Peter said. "I’m loving how it is looking with you taking so much of the bulk off. It really feels great and not so heavy as it was before you cut it."

"Go ahead and cut it how you think will look best. I know it will look great, definitely a hell of a lot better than if my father cut it. I’m enjoying watching you do it and I’m sure I can find something to do while you cut it!" he said with a big smile.

This was definitely the first time I had ever cut a guy’s hair while he was giving me a blowjob. It was intense. It was such a rush lifting up locks of his hair and watching him pleasure me while I cut them off.

I think that overall, Peter had the best hair of all four brothers. It was the darkest brown and the thickest. What made his hair the best was that it had such great body and had such awesome natural hghlights. It also didn’t hurt any that he was the only one that got away without his father buzzing his hair off all the time. I’m sure there were times when his hair was six inches longer than any of his brothers had ever had.

I cut Peter’s hair for him my last two years of college. I remember one time when I came home, he stopped by and asked if I would give him a haircut. "Has your father started getting on you about how long your hair is? I’m amazed that it’s so long."

"Yeah, the other day he said that over the weekend he was going to cut my hair. I was so glad to see you drive by, hoping that you could save me from it being all chopped off."

"Sit yourself down and let me take a brush to that mane of yours," I said. "How do you want me to cut it? Do you want me to take much off the sides and back?"

He so surprised me, when he said, "I don’t care how short you cut the sides and back. I just want to hopefully be able to keep the top as long as possible."

"Okay," I said. "This will be a great rush to do. I’ll only use scissors and I’ll take off a lot of the sides and back and then I’ll blend the top into it so that it appears even. I think you won’t have to take hardly anything off the top. Want to try it?"

"Sure, go for it," Peter said.

I was in heaven getting to slice off almost three inches off the sides and more than four inches off the back. I loved getting my hands in his hair and getting to run them through his awesome locks. Clippers are fun to use, but getting to run my hands over and over again through his beautiful hair and cutting it took a lot more time, and was a lot more fun.

I took only about half an inch off the top, just evening up the ends. I brushed his hair all back and it looked so awesome. He had one of the best heads of hair of anyone that I knew.

"Are you happy with the way it looks? Do you think it’s short enough on top to keep yourself out of your father’s view? I’d hate to see him cut it all off. It looks so great."

"I love the way it looks. I’m just going to take my chances that he’ll forget about the haircut because it is so much shorter on the sides and back. Maybe he’ll leave me alone."

I ended up coming home just two weeks later for the weekend. I was hoping I would see Peter, and see if his father had cut his hair. Shortly after dinner, there was a knock at the door. I opened it, and there stood Peter with the most horrible looking haircut. Obviously, his father had not thought his hair was short enough and took care of it for him. He was such a prick.

"Oh man, I guess your father really didn’t like the haircut. Come on in, and tell me what happened."

"He never said a word to me about my hair until just two days ago," Peter said. "I figured that everything was okay because he never mentioned cutting my hair after you cut it for me."

"Last night he marched into my room and told me to get myself downstairs. I really didn’t think this was about my hair, but I couldn’t imagine what else it would be about."

I went downstairs, and he was waiting for me, standing beside the "barber" chair. "I’ve been telling you for months that you had to cut your hair and you obviously didn’t take it seriously enough."

"Getting the sides and back shorter is a start, but it’s a long way from the way it is going to look after I’m finished. Sit yourself down and maybe you’ll remember that the next time I tell you to get a haircut, that you get it cut right away."

"He did to me just what I had seen him do so many times to Victor and Tommy. He didn’t even use a comb. He just started grabbing locks of my hair and cutting them off. I had to just sit there and take it."

"I was so relieved that after he finished using the scissors, the haircut was over. I was certain he would take the clippers and buzz all my hair off, so I guess I got off lucky." Look how uneven my hair is though!"

"I’m glad I came home. I think that I can even it up so that it looks okay. It’ll be short, but it will look a whole lot better. It certainly won’t look like it was butchered."

Peter sat down and I brushed his remaining hair to see what he still had to work with. I wet it slightly and then used my scissors and did my best to even it up. When I finished, he had slightly less than an inch of hair, but at least he looked okay.




All four brothers moved away the moment they finished high school, which was totally understandable.

After graduating from college, I moved to North Carolina, and I never saw any of them ever again.













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