My Friend the Barber (Part 3) by GermanCut

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Since that evening, Cem and I have seen each other several times a week.
On some evenings, we went out together with his friends, but most of the time, we were alone. We went to the cinema a few times, we met in the park, Cem showed me the gym where he worked out, and sometimes we visited an exhibition or a vernissage.
Cem was a real artist. After he had finished school, he wanted to begin his studies at the art academy, but he did not dare to submit his application.
Instead, on the advice of his parents, he had trained as a hairdresser and then started working in his uncle's barbershop. The older barber who had greeted me first was his uncle mit, the other barber mit's son Tuncay. Cem lived in his cousin's old room in the flat of his uncle and his aunt, just above the barbershop.
Cem really liked his job as a barber, but I noticed that his dream of becoming an artist was still alive.

"As a chemistry student, I don't know much about art, but you have got obviously talent", I told him one evening in a shisha bar. "You should try to apply to the academy, and if you're accepted, you can still work as a part-time-barber. The state support for students is not really abundant."
"Hm... let's see", Cem replied, and I saw him pondering.

"What I always wanted to ask you", I interrupted him when his brooding lasted too long for me, "how did you actually get your bald head?"
"Oh, there was a very simple reason for that!" Cem answered. "I had dyed my hair blonde a year ago, which looked quite good. At least until my dark hairline was visible again. Then I was faced with the question of whether I should dye the hair again or find another solution. I had opted for the other solution and one day in the morning before work started, I told my cousin Tuncay "I can't work as a barber with this messy hair", and reached out for the clippers. Tuncay ran the hair clipper over my whole head without hesitation. Without an attachment! I had never been shaved bald before. It was just a great feeling. I was in ecstasy at the sight of my bald head and told Tuncay to give me a wet shave. All off! Everything smooth! Down to the bone! Only naked scalp!"
Cem's eyes had lit up as he told me.
"Since that day, Tuncay has shaved my head every morning before work starts. The bald look is my ultimate hairstyle, and clients who want to have a bald head always ask for me, even though they should actually ask for Tuncay. After all, he's the one who makes my head shine every morning."

I had listened to Cem as if spellbound. I felt my jeans tighten, and I spread my legs to make room in my crotch.
When I had the feeling that my jeans were about to burst, Cem unfortunately or fortunately changed the subject.
"What are you doing on Labour Day? Shall we go dancing the night before May the first?" he asked.
Even though I'm anything but a dancing queen, I said "Oh yes! That's a fantastic idea! Do you already know where?"
"No. It's up to chance! That evening, we'll have the occasion to dance almost everywhere. But before that, we shall meet in the barbershop after work. I want to do your hair, my pretty boy!" Cem said and grinned.
Cem did my hair often and with pleasure. My mullet got trimmed regularly. Free of charge, as he had insisted. "A mullet quickly looks messy", he said. Nevertheless, I don't think that weekly trimming would have been necessary. But I enjoyed it every time, when Cem put the cape on me, took scissors and clippers and gave me an extensive massage after.

The evening before May the first.
I had been excited all day, and I was constantly getting hot.
It had suddenly become warm. The temperatures reached summery values.
But it wasn't just the weather that made me sweat.
Cem had offered to spend the night at him. "We have the apartment to ourselves", he had said. "Aunt Arzu and Uncle mit are visiting relatives in Wuppertal for a few days."
The idea of spending the night at a good friend's house doesn't usually make you take a deep breath and break out in a sweat. But that's exactly what happened to me about every ten minutes.

Cem wasn't just a friend to me. Rather, I felt attracted to Cem. Not only because of his pleasant presence and his friendly nature, but it was also, to be honest, because of his enchanting smile, which first made his lips curl up mockingly. It was because of his eyes, his slim and muscular body due to his training, his soft and matt shimmering skin, which I would love to touch. A few times I had run my hand over his bald head for fun and wished for nothing more than to rub it long and intensively.

I put on white shorts, white socks and white sneakers, plus a light blue and red tank top. I put on a silver chain, decided on the stud earring with the big fake diamond and put on my red track jacket. With a pounding heart, I looked at myself in the mirror and ran my fingers through my voluminous mane. Hey, I looked good!

About an hour later, I knocked on the back door of the barbershop. Cem opened the door, let his gaze glide up and down on me and then smiled.
"Come in!" he said. While we walked the short way to the shop, he began to tell "Gee, what a day! All the boys wanted to get their hair cut for tonight! We worked almost non-stop!"
Cem had also changed for the evening. Like me, he was wearing white shorts, but a black shirt with a light blue fine abstract pattern.
"Hey, Cem, you don't need to cut my hair today. It's not necessary, and I don't want to make you any work!" I said.
"Please let me decide what is necessary", Cem replied. "Besides, it is not work for me to cut your hair, but it is always a pleasure. Take a seat!"

I sat down in the barber's chair. Cem put the cape on me.
"How is it supposed to be, Sir?" he asked in an ironic, professional tone. "It's getting warm, so I recommend a shorter haircut."
I swallowed. "Are you serious, Cem?" I asked. "You want to cut off my mullet?"
"Yes, you'll get a really hot short haircut from me. Are you ready?"
I didn't know if I was ready, but I remembered my promise that I would shave off my hair for summer.
"Be my barber!" I said in a decided voice.

Cem grinned, grabbed the clipper and, to my surprise, put it on my forehead. With slow movements, Cem shaved the hair on my head very short.
"That's a centimetre at most!" I shouted startled when I looked in the mirror.
"Yes, at most", said Cem. "That's how long your hair will be on top. Your sides will be much shorter."
"Much shorter than that? What will be left?" I asked.
"Nothing", Cem answered. "But it will look good! Do you trust me?"
"Yes, I trust you", I answered and took a deep breath.

In the next moment, Cem took off the attachment, put the hair clipper on my left temple and pulled it through to the back. He did the same on my right temple.
I saw the white scalp that came out. The hair piled up on the cloak and, as I could see with a quick glance, also on the floor, while Cem thoroughly shaved my sides and neck. Never before had I been that shaved!
I got aroused, as I watched my radical transformation in the mirror, and began to get a hard-on. Cem turned me on.
"You look totally hot", he said close to my ear. "But I think I should shave the sides even higher. You'll look like a super cool kickboxer! Everything shaved bald except for a saucer-sized carpet of hair on the top of your head!"
I moaned softly at Cem's description, because meanwhile I had a boner like hell.

Cem now shaved my sides quite a bit beyond the beginning of the dome.
He cut exact, sharp contours without transitions. Then he put the attachment on the hair clipper again and ran it over the remaining hair one last time so that it was completely even.
"That's it! Your beard and eyebrows look perfect with it!" said Cem. "There's just one little thing missing. Actually, what I'm about to do wouldn't be necessary. But because tomorrow is Labour Day"
He didn't finish the sentence, but prepared shaving cream, lathered up the already bald parts of my head and shaved them completely smooth.

"Your first time, isn't it?" he asked in a tone of statement.
"Everything that happens today is my first time", I replied.
Cem immediately understood this not very subtle ambiguity. He posed directly in front of me, leaned forward and kissed my lips.
"But now stop it!" he said as if to himself. "First the work, then the pleasure!"

Cem rinsed the foam off my head, spread aftershave on my neck and sides, which burned a bit, and then took off my cloak.
"It looks good!" I said. "Just as good as in the picture you drew on our first evening!"
"And how does it feel?" asked Cem while running his finger very lightly over my neck.
"Simply indescribable", I said.
Cem didn't stop caressing.
"Cem, what are you doing to me..." I whispered aroused.
And he whispered back "Anything you like."

We lay on the bed in his room. Dressed only in boxer shorts.

We kissed. I stroked Cem's wonderfully smooth bald head.
"So smooth!" I said.
Cem smiled at me through the twilight.
"If you want, you can make it shine tomorrow morning. Would you like to shave my head?"
"With the greatest pleasure," I answered.

We explored our bodies as if they were unknown countries.
"I love this contrast", I said as I stroked Cem's legs, "your hairy legs and your hairless head!"
"And yet the head is not the only part of my body I shave", said Cem with a broad grin and took off his boxer shorts.

That night, our first night, we fell asleep every now and then, held us tight, and when we were awake, we continued where we had left off.

"Cem", I said in the early morning, "I have to confess to you that I don't know if I'm gay or not"
"My dear sweet Philipp... Is it important now?" he replied. "I know I want to be with you. From the first moment you stormed into our barbershop, completely soaked, I knew that I loved you. Really from the first moment! That's why you sat in my chair after I asked my uncle to let me have you as my customer."

I was overwhelmed by happiness. Tears welled up in my eyes.
But then I suddenly had to laugh.
"Didn't we actually want to go out dancing?" I giggled.
In response, Cem jumped on me, tickled me, then hugged me tightly and said "We'll save that for next Labour Day!"

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