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Brooklyn Series: Buzz


Redrt66

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That last slap HURT LIKE HELL!!!

I cursed at him silently under my breath. But at the same time I was loving his unexpected assaults that seemed deliberate and paced. I don't think he was being forceful without reason. It dawned on me suddenly that I was so spun that his slaps were jolts back to reality.

My mind was racing as fast as my heart.

I wanted him to hit me again when I realized this and was about to whimper a request when the better part in my mind said to let go and let him control the situation.

And as my mind raced off in this tangent, my head cleared up, the sting on my face from his double hits fading off quickly, replaced by the sensation of getting fucked. I was still kneeling on the chair, ass up with Harrison behind me. I blinked rapidly trying to gain focus, turning my head around to see Harrison's form blurring and sharpening, then blurring again until he came into focus. Beads of sweat formed on the top of his bald head, the edge of his scalp tinted in that sickening green haze from the fluorescent lighting overhead. The sweat trailed down his handsome face, settling on his beard, collecting into thicker pools of more sweat, dropping onto my ass as he pummeled me, the sweat running down my crack, settling into my hungry hole adding to what little lubrication was being used.

This was all happening or I was imagining it in my current state. I shook my head to get some clarity as Harrison fucked me HARD.

"Oh fukkk," Harrison groaned again. He pushed in and out, harder, faster, repeating the rhythm that everything before felt like some demented foreplay. I could only moan, my face slick with my own sweat, pressed against the seat, sliding forward and back on the worn leather. I had to turn away, close my eyes and enjoy the ride.

At last, I was getting fucked.

Harrison fucked with a great rhythm. He was one of those FFuck buddies I always looked forward to seeing. His long thick cock would slide in slow and take its time, as if examining the space it was entering. And once he was completely inside he would rock back and forth only slightly so that his shaft would pull out beyond my inner second ring. When his cock was past that point he would stop about an inch or so away from it. And then, gently, push back in. Then repeat over and over. My inner ring would dilate and contract at the welcome invasion. It was like some unseen magical massage. I was so spun from his father's constant feeding of Tina from earlier that my hole was more than relaxed and inviting. And yet, there was a slight resistance that I must have subconsciously been providing, but just a bit that Harrison could enjoy the little friction. He loved to fuck like this, this second ring tease, as he adjusted his rhythm from slow and gentle to fast and hard, pounding with such force it was hard to keep up with him as I would moan and grunt.

And then he would unexpectedly pull out so fast it would take my breath away, the speed and volume of his shaft exiting my hungry hole. He would pause for a few eternal seconds as he knew its effect on me. I was breathing uncontrollably now, almost whimpering, catching my breath from the earlier action and longing for his cock to return.

Instead, he pushed his head along my open hole, rubbing his head along the entrance. But he only did his for mere moments before he entered me completely. It was like the son following the father and his earlier cock head tease at the entrance of my hole except Harrison concentrated on my inner ring.

Clearly my heightened state and sensitivity was only making this more exaggerated in my mind. I imagined his shaft inside me like a probe, pushing and pulling into a soft, moist tunnel. All the drugs were making me hallucinate to a certain level that visualizing the fuck as it was occurring seemed so natural to me.

Sweat continued to trickle down my face, lubricating my cheek as it slid on the chair, my movements driven by Harrrison's thrusts. My face itched. My senses were so heightened the itch got stronger but I didn't have the energy to move or shift my arms to scratch myself. And as that thought passed inside my head, the itch jumped from my face to my left shoulder blade, annoying me in its sharpness and position, now even more unreachable. Harrison continued to fuck me, the long shaft pulling away from my inner ring, pausing for a millisecond before it would predictably thrust back inside me. I groaned in a combination of ecstasy and sharp pain, as the magnified itch now jumped to the back of my neck, the points of burning sharpness now flaring all over me as if sparks were dancing on a fire, erupting from one place to the next. I wanted so hard to stretch my arms, to scratch at myself but all I could concentrate on was the fucking.

I groaned some more.

The barber circled around me. I heard his footsteps faintly in the distance as if it were across the shop, on the other side of the avenue. Clearly my mind was playing tricks on my perception as I felt his presence in front of me as he grabbed my very short hair, pulling on it hard, grabbing with that large hand, so violently that my eyes blinked open suddenly. I looked at him questioning and silent, my eyes dazed, staring at him. Saliva drooled out of my mouth in slow motion as a thread of it dripped onto the leather of the chair, mixing with my sweat, glistening. My eyes shifted to the pool of my body's secretions on the seat, the highlights reflecting the sickening green sheen of the fluorescent lighting above.

And as if on cue, the light overhead snapped again.

Harrison continued to fuck me, so lost into his own pleasure that he barely noticed his father coming in between us, his left hand firmly grabbing my ass, the other hand positioning itself, palm-side-down, pushing hard between us with such force that Harrison fell back suddenly, his cock sliding out of my hole so fast it almost hurt from the speed and the unexpected emptiness. He caught his balance as he fell back, his hard cock bouncing up and down.

The itch returned, like wildfire, spreading all over my back, neck and face. My heart raced along.

"Get the fuck up Boy," the barber commanded. "You're a tucking mess."

He stepped away from me, moving towards the corner. Harrison stepped forward and helped me slowly off the chair, as I stood up, trying to gain my balance and composure, facing the mirror across from us.

I was a mess.

My face and upper body had hundreds of black, tiny scratches, randomly scattered on my upper body. I blinked and my focus came back, the scratches glistening when my chest expanded and retracted from my fast-paced breathing. The scratches were all my trimmed hairs, stuck on my body from the earlier fucking on the floor with the barber. The heat and my constant sweating made my body like a magnet. The hairs were all over me.

"Get your sweet ass over here," he commanded, as he stood by the shampoo sink station on the corner.

Harrison helped me over with one hand, the other hand grabbing things from the counter. I stepped forward slowly, my balance was still off from all the drugs, the overwhelming sensations, everything. The barber had turned on the water as it poured down the central faucet on an old stained sink. He grabbed a small face towel from a shelf nearby and soaked it under the faucet and twisted it hard, squeezing the water out of it. He kept the water running as steam floated above, dissipating in the haze of the stiff air in the shop.

"Come here," he motioned. I stepped cautiously again, not knowing if he would get unexpectedly violent again. I was now at the chair in front of the sink and turned my body around slowly, about to descend on the seat, when I felt that firm hand on my back.

"NO," the hand was applying hard pressure on me that I could not move. "I didn't say you could sit. Stay there. Keep standing and stay still."

My breathing became rapid again that all I could do was close my eyes.

WACK!!! The slap was familiar and yet new. It wasn't his hand but the towel, moist and HOT. My sensations went into overdrive as the sudden burn of the the moist terry cloth texture slid along my upper back, the weight of the water that hadn't been squeezed out of the scratchy towel made it drop quickly down the center of my back, towards the top of my ass, a streak of fire and heat drawing behind its sudden descent. I gasped, eyes still closed, the burn of the towel mixing with my inner heat that had been building and building inside me and in my hole.

He caught the towel before it could fall on the floor and ran it under the faucet again, squeezing the excess water out of it. This time he didn't hit me with it as I felt him place the hot towel on my back, the sudden heat now welcome and soothing as he firmly rubbed it all along my back, cleaning me, wiping away the hundreds of little sharp clipped hairs. He repeated this over and over that the moist roughness of the terry cloth material felt like a million tiny fingers scratching away the burning itch from before. I could only exhale in relief, opening my eyes, focus coming back as I saw Harrison fidgeting by the counter beside me.

"Now you can sit," he held the chair as I carefully sat down, looking up at him for reassurance and some silent guidance as I realized the back of the chair was much lower than normal so that my upper body was at a 30° incline when I sat down. The back of my neck touched the cold porcelain of the sink and despite the heat and humidity of the shop, the sudden frigid sensation made me jump a little, almost like the earlier sensation when the sharp razor blade made contact with my sensitive skin around my asshole. His large hand caught me as I jumped up an inch or two and he firmly pushed me down, back on the chair, the back of my neck making contact with the cold, wet surface again.

He grabbed the towel, moist and steaming, and placed it on my chest. The suddenness of the heat made me gasp as I swear my heart jumped. But it lasted a mere second as he firmly rubbed the hot towel on my chest and lower torso, cleaning me, wiping the trimmed hairs and the sweat from last few hours. My breathing started to pace back to normal as whatever pleasurable tension seemed to melt away. I stared straight up at the ceiling noticing the darkness seemed to gather at this corner. I saw his face loom overhead, a look of fondness mixed with disdain stared back at me. I felt the hot water now at the top of my head as his large hand appeared in the foreground, getting larger and larger as it approached, falling out of focus as I closed my eyes, the heat of the water, cupped by his hand, now pouring on my forehead.

I felt Harrison grab my legs and lift them from the floor, spreading them wide as he rested my thighs on the arms of the chair. My ass was now exposed as I suddenly felt his cock enter me with such force that my head fell further back on the sink, hot water splashing on my face. The barber's large hand now poured the water on my head so I couldn't open my eyes. He washed away what hairs were on my cheeks, nose, my entire face. I felt a sudden burning inside me and realized Harrison had coated his cock with more Tina, providing a special delivery booty bump. He pushed in deep coating my inner tunnel then pulled out at the entrance of the second ring and gyrated his hips clockwise and counter-clockwise, making sure to coat my insides thoroughly. The heat inside me started to build quickly, that familiar burn magnifying that I realized he gave me a large amount of crystal with his feeding. It was slightly scary as I felt so drugged up already. It was also quite beautiful as that familiar wave started taking over me, wiping away whatever minor apprehension I was holding inside me, my legs spreading more, silently offering an invitation.

My head relaxed, descending further into the sink. I could feel the water around the back of my head, a pool of warm water accumulating in the bowl. My eyes were still closed, now favoring the comfort of the warm water around my head and the other heat emanating from my hungry manhole. My head lowered another inch that I could feel water entering my ears. I could only hear the echo of the water from the faucet splashing around my head, the sound dulled and softened as if audio could blur. I felt the weight of my head increase as if my mass had suddenly doubled, my head sinking further under the water, warm liquid now entering my nostrils.

His firm hand scooped me up from the back of my head and lifted me above the water's surface. I blinked my eyes open suddenly, coughing uncontrollably as I had taken water in through my nose. I blinked rapidly again, seeing his face, large and over me, the earlier look now replaced with silent lust and momentary concern.

"Now open your mouth, and take several deep big breaths," he instructed. The brown bottle of poppers appeared, open and held by his other hand. He tilted my head up at an angle for me to do as he instructed. I looked into his eyes, blinked again, the heat of the water around my wet head comforting me, the heat in my hole taking over me. I sucked on the tip of the bottle without my lips touching the glass. "Do more," he instructed. I breathed in deep several times and closed my eyes.

A second elapsed.

My head descended, now weightless, back into the water, liquid filling my ears as I felt his firm hand guide me, control me, its strength now mixed with flowing water, making his hand soothing, relaxing. His other hand, now free, touched the bridge of my nose and pinched it tight as my entire head was now under the surface of the water. The sink was now filled with the warm soothing water and all I could hear was that blur I was imagining in my head.

The sound of the water cascading from the faucet, splashing on the collected pool in the basin of the sink was creating what sounded like soft, rounded echoes. It was only magnified in my heightened state. I had taken deep breaths as he had instructed so being immersed completely under the water's surface was not alarming. On the contrary, it was soothing. It didn't hurt that the massive booty bump had now taken effect, rising from between my legs, climbing up my torso and washing over the rest of my upper body in the same way small tides of hot water washed over my sunken face. I breathed slowly and methodically, the poppers hits now adding an extra layer of sensation. I was breathing in and out of my throat, recycling what oxygen I had inhaled with the large hits of poppers, reusing the chemically-infused air that I could sense my head getting lighter and lighter. In between my legs the thrusting got heavier and more rapid, harder, more violent. I could feel my head rocking back and forth, the back of my neck sliding against the wet porcelain of the sink, the top of my head banging against the other edge. Hot water splashed all around me, hitting me on the neck and upper chest, sudden shock waves of liquid heat so hot it felt like a volcano exploding lava around me.

And I was finally getting fucked. No more cockhead tease. No more inner ring massage. This was the real thing. Harrison fucked hard and rapid, random in his rhythm that my hole could not anticipate the next move. And everything felt so open and relaxed as if I were backfloating on the Pacific Ocean, warm waves washing over me. I felt my head sink further into the water, moving slightly from side to side and back and forth as Harrison continued to fuck me hard. My neck relaxed even more so my head titled further back that I could feel my chin rise from the water's surface. The sensation on my hole was nothing but pleasure, a vessel to receive what was entering it without restriction. His cock fucked me furiously as I lost sense of time, riding it and the waves I was floating on.

And somehow in these long, eternal seconds I was still breathing from my earlier inhale.

But then that oxygen ran its course and I instinctively felt the need to breathe. The barber's firm hands were still keeping my head under the water, the weightlessness now quickly fading as I tried to push up to the surface for air. He sensed my sudden anxiety and kept his firm hand pinching on my nostrils in place, pushing my head down with force so I could not get to the surface of the water. My eyes instinctively opened, blinking rapidly, stung by the heat of the water, a sudden panic taking over me. I closed my eyes in defense and tried to force my head up in vain. His hand was too strong.

And in between my legs, another force, hard and continuous was causing a contrasting situation. Harrison's furious fucking was mixing with my heightening panic that the pleasure seemed to be folding into a strange sense of pain. And yet, I was enjoying this new evolving ache that was beyond my measure. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster and I could swear I heard it under the water, muted and softened in that strange echo. I tried to move my arms in protest but even that was in vain as Harrison held me down while he continued to fuck me hard with abandon.

An all too familiar blackness suddenly surrounded me. My head and body now seemed weightless, sinking. The echo of the sounds under water seemed distant now, fading off beyond reach, like a vanishing whisper, muted by unseen shadows.

F A L L I N G .

Oh no.

Not this again...

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I don't recall reading too many breath control scenes on here; maybe that's a bit outside our collective experience. And a near-fatal bout of pneumonia left me very anxious about not being able to breathe so I'm not immediately attracted to breath control scenes. But the scene at the end of this installment is about as sensual a description of breath control as you're likely to find. The plot line in this installment (and the entire story for that matter) is also credible and realistic unlike some stories in this forum which require us to totally suspend disbelief. (On the other hand, strange shit happens in America, and more of the seemingly incredible stories could be closer to the truth than any of us might want to acknowledge.) This story is just one of the best I've read here. Thanks for the time and effort in writing it. Now, all I need to do is find someone like Harrison...

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Your story is really fucking amazing, and incredibly hot.

Some time ago, I partied hot and heavy with a guy who really got off on teasing my hole, with just the head of his cock fucking my hole (similar to what you described), and I can tell you that the sensation was so great and so intense that I wanted it to never stop.  

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"He pushed in deep coating my inner tunnel, then pulled out at the entrance of the second ring and gyrated his hips clockwise and counter-clockwise, making sure to coat my insides thoroughly. --- Slightly scary....but wiping away whatever minor apprehension I was holding inside me, my legs spreading more, silently offering an invitation."

 

Yes!  FUCK yes!  Giving in - giving up all control - letting the drug and the man and the cock take you on that fucking wild ride!  That feeling of completely relaxing your hole and opening it to anything shoved in it.  My hole is dripping for Harrison's huge cock - deeper and deeper - impossibly deep inside - incredible fuck REDRT66!!!!   Oink, Oink, Oink!!!

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  • 4 weeks later...
  • 2 weeks later...
  • 8 months later...
  • 3 months later...

Damn! Great Story! I wish it was me getting my man pussy shaved by a hot barber while enjoying the high Tina was giving. I miss my play sessions when I was slammed by my partner, getting shaved first and then feeling his fist up my hole. My fantasy is to have this happen to me again. It has been too long and too long a story since I parTyed and played. I long for the feel of fist up my hole and the biTch fucking with my head.

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  • 5 months later...
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  • 1 year later...

This series is just so damn hot. So many details that bring me into that barbershop and the chemmed up condition. Those hot New York summer days, feeling horny and restless, and willing to take a risk to satisfy a twitching hole. The barber chair reminded me of a fun session with a hair stylist years ago. He had one of those old-style chairs in his apartment. Sat me in it and worked my ass for hours with toys, cock, fingers and booty bumps. 

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