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Maik and Torben - 1: Damned Hair! by GermanCut

Maik and Torben �" 1: Damned hair!

(It might be helpful for getting introduced into the characters of Maik and Torben to read the story "Maik: Holiday Haircare", but it’s not necessary to understand the following plot,)

I felt quickly that I had a friendship with Torben, or at least a great friendship started. When he asked me on my last day of vacation if I wanted to visit him in Berlin, I agreed without thinking twice.
"Great!" said Torben. "What do you think of the last weekend in August?" That was typical of Torben: putting his money where his mouth is. Because Nina had just told me that she wanted to visit her old school friend in Bremen that weekend, I said: "Yes, that would work. I'm looking forward to it. Show me Berlin!"
"Yes, I will. I'll show you my favorite places. Some are in every travel guide, others are not �" or only in very special travel guides. If you want, I'll also show you gay Berlin. Would you like it?"
I wasn't sure if I would. Rather, I was curious. But I thought to myself that nothing could go wrong with Torben, we could also visit a textile factory and have fun.
Nina, Tim and I just have turned home when I got a message from Torben, who wrote to me: "So it’s still the last weekend in August? If so, don't shave your head until then, as much as you want to!"
"Why?" I wrote back. "That's why!" he answered. "I thought of something special for us. It's only for the short time until then that you have to give up your morning head shave and fulltime baldness."
Torben kept quiet on all my questions. I didn’t think much about it then until Thursday evening.
I had already packed a bag because I wanted to get on my way quickly after work on Friday afternoon to take the train to Berlin. I looked in the mirror: I looked about the same as I did after my first haircut more than a month ago with Tim: The hair was about half a centimeter long, maybe a little longer. That's not much, but I felt unkempt. I wrote to Torben: "If I'm not allowed to shave my head, then maybe something else?" Torben's answer came quickly: "You can (except your head!) shave what you want: your beard, your legs or your balls!" I wrote back: "How gracious, Torben! Thanks."
I took Torben's suggestions literally and spent a long time in the bathroom. I shaved everything except my head. I even asked Nina for help. She was very helpful and very thorough. After all, I didn't have a single hair left on my body. Nina had given me a nourishing and disinfecting lotion, and I looked at my suntanned, smooth and shiny body in the mirror. Every muscle, every vein, especially on his arms and legs, was visible. I looked like a statue from Ancient Greece. I looked absolutely great.
Nina approached me from behind, gently stroked my chest, let her hands slide over my six-pack and then drove deep down to my completely hairless crotch. I took a deep breath of comfort and closed my eyes as she grabbed me firmly by the balls and then began to massage my penis.
"The gays are going to love you," Nina said to me later in bed. "How do you know?" I asked. "Because I'm totally in love with this hairless, smooth guy," she replied, and I got horny again because she slid her hand back into my bare crotch.
"But don't forget our agreement when you're in Berlin: infidelities are okay if we tell each other about them and if they're short and not too common." We had made such an agreement a long time ago and did well with it.
"And if my keen eyes spot not a woman but a man?" I asked provocatively, knowing that Nina would not be shocked by such questions.
"The same applies here as with a woman. But I would like to talk to Torben about your sexual practices afterwards."
"I hadn't necessarily thought of Torben now," I replied laughing.
"It's interesting," Nina said with a grin. "Who else do you know in Berlin? Don't leave poor Torben hanging! You two are such a sweet couple."
The next day, as I sat on the train to Berlin, I wrote to Torben when I expected to arrive. "Okay," he wrote back, "I'll pick you up at the main station." "Not necessary," I wrote. "Yes, it is!" he answered. Then he called me and said that without his help I would only get as far as Alexanderplatz, get on the wrong subway there and then call him desperately from Reinickendorf because I didn't know what to do. "We both want to avoid that don’t we?" said Torben decisively. "Well, I'll be on the platform from 7 p.m. and pick you up!"
Torben looked unfamiliar when I met him again. Until then I had only known him bald, but now a very short, but dense black fur covered his head, which harmonized with his beard. "Damn," I thought, "he still looks good!"
I thought of the brown carpet of hair on my head, which I didn't like at all.
"Hey, dude! You're here! And you look good!" He stroked my head. "Don't fool me!" I said. "I don't know why you told me to let my hair grow. Are you going to shave it off for me? But then I can do the same with you!" "Not a bad idea," Torben said with flashing eyes. "But I have something better planned for us. Now we'll go to my place, you leave your clothes, and then we'll go out for dinner!"
The next afternoon, as we sailed on the Spree, I looked at the people who were with us on the deck of the excursion steamer and said to Torben: "Where is it, your gay Berlin? Is it here, and I didn't notice it?" Torben laughed loudly and a little shrill, whereupon a distinguished older couple gave us a disapproving look. "Sure, just look closely! You're the only straight guy here!" said Torben, and after a pause he added: "Now don't be so impatient! We're going tonight!" "And will I get rid of my hair first?" I asked. "Don't be so impatient," Torben said again and gave me a slap on my leg.
We changed at Torben's appartement: I slipped into the very short white shorts that I had bought with Tim and in white sneakers. I decided to wear a thin, light-colored track jacket on my bare skin, the zipper open quite wide. Actually, I should have been satisfied: my muscular, tanned and hairless legs were shiny, and what was visible of my chest was immaculately smooth. I liked my beardless face with the eyebrows plucked into a slim form and the golden earring �" when I didn't look further up. "Those damn hairs! It looks so s**t!" I shouted. Torben came over from the other room and looked stunning, of course: He wore camouflage shorts, black lace-up boots and white socks, and a black sleeveless shirt on top. "Uh," I said, "I think I'm dressed wrong!" "No!" replied Torben, "You look delightful, babe! I could you instantly..." Torben was very euphoric since we were back home. "The gays will fly at you. I will have to protect your virginity with all my strength." "Be my hero!" I replied dryly. "And the hair really comes off?" "Promised!" answered Torben.

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