This Guy in the Hood by Jay

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Before rounding the corner, Will glanced in the barbershop window just like he did every time he was in the neighborhood, but the super hot barber was nowhere in sight. Only marginally deflated, he dragged himself across the street. He handed the way too perky, way too self-absorbed circuit boy behind the counter his gym ID, trying to convince himself that he would think, much like Will tried to believe, that he was much better looking than the absolutely hideous photo testified. The pumped up attendant almost looked up from his blackberry, and let Will in without bothering to look at the stupid card or his deflated face. The place was completely deserted, really unusual for Saturday morning, nonetheless, Will hit the weight room, and with even less enthusiasm than normal, crept toward the bench press. He was lying flat on his back trying to concentrate on his form with the barbells stretched high above his chest when he looked up toward the ceiling and spotted his latest obsession hovering overhead.


Blankly, he craned his neck and squinted up assuming this was probably some crazy hallucination. From what he could make out, his apparition appeared to be partially out of uniform, which always consisted of tight, low-cut levi’s and a dark tee shirt that was intentionally a little bit too small in the chest and road up just above his oversized belt buckle. That day, for the gym, the jeans had been replaced with track pants that fit just as snuggly. Almost immediately, Will’s arms started trembling and then he felt them begin to give out as he struggled to control the weights. In this moment of extreme panic, imagining his slight body about to be crushed beneath a hundred ten pounds of metal, he grunted out a desperate plea for help. The apparition suddenly came to life. The hot barber’s seductive, dark eyes glared down at Will’s very distressed face, then he nonchalantly secured the barbell. About all Will could muster was a polite nod before crawling out from under the menacing apparatus. Just as the guy he had been lusting over for at least a year was about to walk away, Will stood up and extended his hand, “um, thanks, um?”


“Clip.”


“Cliff?”


While stroking the small patch of hair on the very front of his head, Clip quickly corrected him, this time pronouncing the “P” emphatically. He was the kind of guy Will’s dad would call a real man’s man, tall and dark and broad shouldered, rather bulky, one of those men who always has a six o’clock shadow but doesn’t have to plan for it two days in advance. Will watched Clip’s perfect butt move away, letting his eyes follow it all the way to the water cooler on the other side of the room, but redirected his gaze when the object of his attention turned around and caught him studying it. A little sheepishly, he slid back under the barbell and attempted to finish his chest presses. Inadvertently his eyes, however, did continue wandering around the room. Quite to his disadvantage, while not so casually looking for him on his way to his next station, he unwittingly plowed straight into him full force. It was like slamming into a steel vault. A little startled and even more embarrassed than before, Will stammered out an apology and skulked away. Strike two.


Relieved to have made it to the fly without further incident, he stared into the enormous mirror in front of him, slowly counting out his reps, but completely froze when Clip’s reflection came into view. This time Clip stopped and just stood there. Will pretended not to notice him, but after a few, very uncomfortable minutes he sort of smiled back at Clip’s reflection. It quickly became obvious that Clip was not the smiling type, just intent and almost brooding. Completely flustered, Will finished up before hurriedly moving toward the rack of dumbbells. Clip followed him and again positioned himself where Will was certain to see him. When Will finished his first set, he decisively tossed his shoulders back and approached his pursuer, “um, so, Clip, what’s going on? Not working out today?” Clip lifted his hand and slid it inside the waistband of his track pants. He let it rest there while his thumb moved up and down over his rippling eight-pack. He cocked his head, grabbed a pair of dumbbells, the forties, and effortlessly whipped out a set of twelve curls. Midway through, Will headed in the other direction toward the lat pull-down. Just as he was easing the bar in the general direction of what he liked to imagine were his well-defined pecs, he caught Clip moving toward him again. This time he positioned himself directly in front of him, then intently looked down at Will’s sun streaked hair, grabbed a clump and gave it a good strong pull. Will slowly tilted his head up and stared straight into the perfectly carved horseshoe in Clip’s high & tight flattop. It looked especially crisp that morning as the sidewalls were freshly shaved. A little bewildered, Will patted his hair back in place and scrunched his forehead, “that’s quite a haircut. Guess you don’t have to worry about some guy pulling your hair, huh, dude?” No response, instead Clip brushed Will’s hand across the bristle on top of his head. Just as Will started to pull away, Clip yanked on his hair again, then he smirked and swaggered off.


Will let the weights drop with a loud thud, got up and retreated to the locker room, but before he had time to even kick his running shoes off, Clip was standing right next to him. Desperately, Will tried to remember the numbers on his combination lock. He yanked his tee shirt off and threw it over his shoulder then continued fumbling with the stubborn mechanism, slowly turning it back and forth from number to number. Clip just stood there, running his hands across the shaved sides of his head, smugly watching Will get more and more frustrated. When Will finally succeeded in getting the stupid lock opened, he ripped the rest of his clothes off, secured a towel around his waist and spun around. It was just as Clip was beginning to pull his track pants down. Will tried not to notice the jockstrap clinging to Clip’s firm, muscular thighs. Before lowering it, Clip positioned his massive body smack in the center of the aisle. As unobtrusively as possible, Will passed by him. While he was edging away, he heard the locker slam shut behind him, but didn’t look back and just stole toward the showers.


With a strong jerking motion he pulled the shower curtain then plunged his head under the water. He drew his hair away from his face and began shampooing it. When he heard the water come on in the stall across from him, he finished up quickly, grabbed his towel and again wrapped it around his waist before discreetly opening the curtain. Clip was posed under the spray looking even more glorious than Will had ever even come close to fantasizing. There he stood, right in front of him, with the shower curtain wide open, beautifully naked, completely exposed. It was totally impossible not to gape; his hard, exquisitely proportioned body was covered with soap and his head just glistened as the water trickled over the clean sidewalls. There was way more hair on his chest than on the top of his head and his dick was pretty near perfect. They made eye contact. Clip motioned for Will to join him and then, as if hypnotized, Will removed his towel and stepped into the stall. Clip pulled the curtain shut then rubbed his slippery body against Will’s. As soon as Will’s hands began to circle the smooth perimeter of Clip’s head he was rock hard. Clip grabbed Will’s erect cock and held it. Will continued to stroke Clip’s head quickly moving up to the landing strip. Suddenly, Clip pulled away, reached over Will’s shoulder, extended his arm and pushed his hand against the tiled wall. Will was completely pinned in. Once again Clip grabbed a clump of Will’s hair. He began addressing his captive as recruit, then said something about heading back to his place where he could really take care of him. Will just looked up into those dreamy, dark eyes and melted. Without hesitating, he was dressed and out in the bright noon sun following Clip across the street. Clip stopped at the barbershop and ducked inside for a few seconds. Will patiently waited, then trailed along like a faithful dog behind the hottest man he had ever had sex with in his entire life.


Although Clip’s apartment was just a few blocks away, it seemed like they walked forever to get there. Neither of them spoke. As Will was shoved through the doorway, he apprehensively surveyed the surroundings. The sub-level efficiency was done in Early American Frat-Boy. Absolutely nothing was put away; everything remained where it had apparently last been used. The bedroom area was littered with cast off socks and underwear that had never made it to a laundry hamper. An incredibly rumpled sheet and a faded, lumpy comforter haphazardly shrouded the mattress. There was nothing on the walls. Abandoned coffee mugs and dirty glasses were the only decorative accessories in sight.


The room was pretty dark for the middle of the day. Clip turned on a small lamp and began to undress. When Will followed his host’s lead, Clip glared over at him and made it totally apparent that he wanted him to hold off. He removed his jeans and left them on the floor exactly where he had stepped out of them, then disappeared into what Will assumed to be the bathroom and returned stripped to the waist, wearing just a pair of extremely tight, marine style fatigues. He pulled Will’s cashmere sweater over his head and hurled it across the room, then stuck his hand inside the khakis and shoved them down his slim thighs. Will kicked off his Bass weejins and was left standing there in his crisp white tee shirt, Brooks Brothers pin stripe boxers, and dark socks, quite a contrast to the brute hovering over him.


“You are one piss-poor excuse for a recruit, boy.” He grabbed Will’s hair again, pulled on it even harder than the last few times, then released it.


Will grimaced and shrugged his shoulders, “umm, sorry.”


Forcefully, Clip lifted Will’s chin to face him, “Sir, yes, Sir. Got it?”


“Umm, s-s-sure.”


“Say it!”


“Ahh,” Will struggled to keep a straight face, “y-yessir-sir-yes-s-s-sir?”


With magnetic force Clip’s face bolted toward Will’s. Will assumed he was going to get a nice, deep kiss, but instead Clip’s sensuous, pouting lips stopped short and with a few, carefully chosen words cautioned him that he was to take this seriously and if he wasn’t into it to stop wasting his time and get the f*** out. Not wanting to be dismissed quite so early, Will eagerly straightened up and nodded and spit out the requisite, “Sir, yes, Sir” as loudly and clearly as he could. Almost immediately, Clip began demeaning him, mostly ranting about his appearance and his slight body and how he was going to whip him into shape. His demeanor was completely different, no longer just arrogant, now unbearably obnoxious and intimidating. Will found the change irresistible and got more and more turned on as his assailant continued to bully him.


At some point, Will’s tee shirt was ripped off and he was encouraged to move toward the kitchen island in a darkened corner of the room. Clip emphatically pointed to a herculon covered barstool piled high with junk. As he heaved the stuff onto the floor the stool started spinning around. He steadied it and ordered Will to sit. As he ran his hand through Will’s hair, he started in on this thing about how pretty he thought it made Will look, but in the next breath proclaimed that pretty boys totally disgusted him. Will just sat there thinking how turned on he was, hoping this little bout would never end. Clip mockingly asked if Will liked all his pretty, pretty hair. Will didn’t respond.


“You ready to give it all up, recruit?” He grabbed the blonde mass and pulled really, really hard at it this time.


Will played along and answered, “Sir, yes, Sir”. Clip released the hair and Will’s head sprang back into place. While Clip was busy rifling through his gym bag, Will smoothed down his hair and rubbed his head, then sat up straight and tried not to move or look around as he continued to act the part of the submissive recruit. Clip moved behind him, unzipped his fly and placed Will’s hand firmly on his dick. It was way hard. There was this funny humming sound and then this cold, vibrating object rested square on Will’s forehead. The rich, echoing bass barked at him again. Trying to imitate it, Will responded, “Sir, yes, Sir”, then he felt the cold metal cut across the top of his head. He clung tightly to Clip’s dick, as he watched what he assumed to be hair clippers dump a huge pile of his perfect blonde hair onto his boxers prior to swiping at his head again. For some insane reason, he found himself sitting there, totally silent, feeling really scared, but more turned on than he had been in years. Clip moved the clippers to the side and continued easing them over Will’s scalp. More hair littered the worn, grimy carpet. Without resistance, Will’s head was thrust into his chest. Clip secured it with one hand as the other maneuvered the clippers up the back and over the top again. Even more pretty hair fell to the floor, the same pretty hair that Will had just spent $50 on earlier that week to get that perfect boyish look he wore with such distinction. In what couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes, the barber flipped the clippers off and ran his hand over Will’s buzzed head then brushed it off. He let his big hands linger there, moving across the scalp, rubbing it over and over again. They were both beyond hard by this point. Will’s whole body was quivering as he finally let go of Clip’s penis and permitted his fingers to glide back and forth over the stubble that remained. Almost delirious, he slid down from the stool.


“How’s that feel, recruit?” Clip pulled off his fatigues and yanked Will’s boxers down. Instantaneously, they were at each other’s heads, stroking them while grabbing at each other’s dicks. They came simultaneously then Clip ordered his ripe recruit back into the makeshift barber chair. Clip muttering something about wanting it even closer and Will affably agreed, even going so far as to clearly state, “take it down as close as you want, Sir.” He watched as Clip removed the guard from the end of the clippers and forced them back into action taking the light stubble right down to the bare scalp. Will was so hard that it actually ached.


The sport continued as Will watched Clip grab this can of shave cream and hold it next to his face like he was about to hurl a grenade at the enemy. Very efficiently, he covered the perimeter of Will’s head with it. Will sat erect, like the perfect recruit, all the while the straight razor edged down his scalp over and over again. Clip finished up and wiped off his latest inductee’s glistening sidewalls and then they were at each other just like before, touching and grabbing at each other. Will was feeling wonderfully aroused, completely lost in the moment, totally immersed in the role playing, and absolutely thrilled to be the recipient of Clip’s undivided attention, but it all came to an abrupt halt when he caught sight of his fresh high & tight in the closet mirror. His eyes widened as he watched his hands skirt across the completely bald sides and back of his own head. They were shaved to the bone, or down to the wood as Clip quickly pointed out, and really, really high up. On closer inspection, he realized that the top was cut even shorter than Clip’s, just a mere shadow was visible. This so did not even vaguely resemble the clean-cut, meticulously groomed Will that he was so used to looking at. His hands remained on the top of his head. He couldn’t seem to let go. He moved right up to the mirror and stood there staring at the new him. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t keep his hands off of his head. It was the weirdest thing, but the more he stroked it, the harder he got, and the harder he got the more he continued to stroke it.


Clip moved behind him and let his hands rest on Will’s crotch, “nice, huh?” Then he began rubbing Will’s scalp again. It seemed neither of them could keep their hands off of it.


“Well, it definitely is quite a change.”


Clip actually smiled, then quickly offered to tidy it up once a week for him, no charge.


A somewhat disoriented Will was ushered to the shower. The blast of cold water catapulted him back to reality and all at once he started worrying about how he was going to explain this radical, new look at the fundraiser he was scheduled to attend that evening. While pondering what the limits really were on progressive black tie, he desperately tried to rationalize that, all things considered, he could probably get away with wearing a black knit cap pulled tightly down over his ears with his new Armani tuxedo. As Clip lathered up his latest recruit’s scalp they both came again. Will quickly forgot all about his dilemma as he contemplated Clip’s strong, wet body, then suddenly it crossed his mind that this whole thing had begun in a shower just a couple of hours ago, only now he looked like the poster child for “Jarheads Anonymous”. Will looked at Clip’s haircut, grabbed his amazing butt, and started thinking, why not military drag, then began trying to figure out how he could get his hands on the perfect dress blues before 6:30 that evening.

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