Brooklyn Series: Buzz

[Redrt66]

I looked at him directly, staring into his eyes with a new hunger. He just smiled back at me, almost silently mocking my vulnerability, my need, my anticipation. I scooted down in the chair further, the leather cracking under me, as I pushed my ass over the edge of the seat further, pulling on both my legs further back, my hands supporting them tightly under the thighs.

He stepped forward, grabbing his now very hard cock with his right hand, as he stroked it, pulling on the foreskin so that the thick, bulbous head would appear and disappear, almost winking at me, teasing me.

"You wantin' some of this Boy?"

I looked at his eyes and then at the head of his dick. I nodded. I think I heard myself groan.

"What was that?" He took a half step back.

"Y-y-yes," I stuttered, nervously, pulling my legs further back and apart. "Yes...Fuck it."

"WATCHA say, Boy?"

"Fuck it...please," I begged.

He smiled and stepped forward slightly, pleased with himself for commanding the situation. He grabbed the chair suddenly and applied pressure on one side so it swiveled clockwise so quickly that I almost lost my balance in my current position. He looked in the cracked mirror over the counter and adjusted the chair back a little bit in the other direction so that we were both in profile in the reflection. He stepped forward again and yanked on the side lever, cranking it up and down a few times until the chair lowered itself a few inches.

He stepped forward aiming the thick cock at my manhole and examined the reflection.

"Oh yeah," I whimpered. "Please. Put it in!"

I looked at the reflection also, pulling my legs further back and apart. He inched closer so that I felt the thick head brush against the outside of my asslips.

I closed my eyes and moaned uncontrollably.

"You likin' that, huh?" He shifted the cock head a bit, still on the outside of my manhole, brushing against it, up and down, up and down. He pushed the head in just

s l i g h t l y as I felt the massive head spread my asslips with a little pressure. I felt a new moistness, his precum lubricating my hungry hole so that it started to feel slick and wet.

I moaned even more.

"I guess you likin' it then," he replied for me. "But you ain't ready yet." He pulled back suddenly and my hole closed up slowly from the emptiness.

I moaned in regret.

"Need to get that special pussy of yours really wantin' THIS!" He shook his thick, uncut shaft, taunting me as we both stared in the mirror. I looked puzzled in my reflection. He turned abruptly and grabbed my parTy bag and fished around inside. "This what I THINK it is?" he asked, waving my contact lens case. "Yeah," I replied, grabbing my legs tighter. "It's Tina but grounded into a fine powder."

"Perfect," he smiled at me, unscrewing one of the caps. "Just what I was lookin' for."

He licked his right index finger (which was massive in itself) and dipped into the container. The tip of his finger was coated heavily with the white magical dust. The Tina covered his finger like a miniature trimmed white glove in contrast to his dark skin. There was so much dust that I couldn't recall if I had ever had such a large booty bump.

This was going to B U R N.

"I want to make that special pussy sing," he said, examining his finger and then glancing at my hole.

The annoying fluorescent light behind us suddenly snapped again, almost punctuating his declaration. I pulled on my legs tighter.

He approached slowly, the finger pointing to the ceiling, almost as if he was holding a gun, ready to shoot.

"You ready, Boy?" He looked at me perversely. I replied by pulling my legs further apart. "This gonna sting..."

He approached as his hand descended to my hole, almost in slow motion. I glanced at the mirror as the Tina-dusted finger found my hole and dug in quickly. "Uhhhhh..." I moaned in satisfaction and in slight pain. He fed me with so much crystal that it seemed to be lining my colon from my hole and further deep inside. It was like a hot lava rolling inside me rapidly, causing tingling and familiar sensations but heightened to a new level. Everything that the Tina dust touched immediately burned. I was on fire and I didn't want it to be extinguished.

"Let's let it cook in there," he said into my reflection, winking at me. His finger never left my hole. Instead he rotated it, clockwise at first, applying a firm pressure against my asswall. It burned with every movement. I bit my lip. And then he would turn that thick digit counter-clockwise, making sure to evenly coat my hungry tunnel with whatever Tina dust was still on that finger. I moaned. He continued, slowly fucking that finger in and out, in and out, but never removing it completely so that my hunger continued to build. I felt a sudden mass and couldn't figure out what he was doing as I looked in the mirror again. "You likin' that huh?" He seemed to announce, again pleased with himself. He pulled the finger out almost all the way from my hole that I saw he had curled the finger inside me for extra mass and volume. And then he pushed back in.

I closed my eyes.

His finger did a dance inside that seemed like forever. He pushed, pulled and turned and did other countless moves, continuing to tease my hole. I was now moaning uncontrollably as the fire inside ignited to a new level, burning hotter and hotter than I have ever felt before. My heart was beating faster that I thought I could hear it. The heat was intense as was my hunger.

"Please," I whimpered. "Put it in!"

"You ain't ready until I say so," he stated. He leaned close to me and turned his body slightly. "I wanna hear that special pussy sing." He leaned in and kissed me hard, his large lips enveloping mine so suddenly that I almost lost my breath. I inhaled through my nose. Breathing seemed strangely difficult as my heart beat became more rapid and louder. It was the massive booty bump having its effect. I had never been this high so intensely and so quickly. It was alarming. It was exciting. I inhaled through my nose again and let his fat tongue invade my mouth and kissed him back, licking his lips, his teeth, his mouth.

We both groaned.

I felt a new pressure on my hole. He continued to kiss me, my eyes still closed, enjoying the heightened sensation and the near panic that seemed to be creeping behind me. My heart beat faster and faster. He had two of his fingers inside my hole which was still on fire. The additional pressure eased up as my very hungry hole swallowed his digits. They twirled inside me in every which way, loosening me up, getting me open, hungry.

"PUT IT IN!" I yelled, surprised at myself.

He stepped back and looked at me sternly. "You like being in control huh, boy? Well let me tell you somethin'. This ain't no booty call. This ain't your spot." He paused and looked around the room. "Remember-you came into MY shop. I make the rules. You got me Boy?" His fingers did a dance inside my hole. He knew he had me. I nodded silently, obediently.

The darkness of the early evening crept into the shop as what little natural light left outside faded quickly. The room took on another shade of green, as if the saturation level had been diminished, clouding the room in a subtle vignette of thin shadows at the edges.

He suddenly pulled his fingers out.

I looked at him in the mirror, dazed, puzzled, selfish in my need to be filled. The emptiness in my hole with its inner fire was maddening. All I could think of was some part of him inside me.

NOW.

"Put your legs down," he commanded. "You rest for a minute. I don't want you worn out." He turned around towards the counter, reaching for the glass pipe. "We barely started, Boy."

He fed the pipe with more Tina and lit it up, slowly cooking it until it was ready. I exhaled a deep breath as my legs came down on the side of the chair. "Relax Boy," he commanded again. "You were getting tense there before. Definitely don't want that." I eased into the chair and slowly pulled myself up to sit a little bit straighter. My heart continued to race, pounding and pounding. I watched him take a big, deep hit from the pipe several times. Then he fished into my overnight bag again, juggling the contents around until he found something. He held a small brown bottle and smiled, handing it to me. He took another big hit from the glass pipe, held it and then set it aside on the counter. He approached me, leaning into me, taking my hand holding the poppers which he steered towards my mouth. He unscrewed the top and aimed the bottle at my lips and silently nodded, commanding me. I took a big, deep breath of a hit as he quickly sealed the bottle. Suddenly his mouth was over mine, exhaling the magic smoke into my lungs, chasing the popper hit. HOLY SHIT! That was a new shotgun experience! The poppers hit my head and made my heart beat faster and faster. I had to shake my head a little from the effect. His face was still on top of me as his eyes stared intensely into mine. Our lips were locked as was our gaze. His pupils appeared to be gradually getting larger, darker, as if they were consuming his irises. Then they would recede slowly, almost back to their original sizes. But before they would hit the origin point they would suddenly enlarge again at a slightly increased speed. Then suddenly, shrink again in some strange rhythm that I couldn't tell if he was somehow silently communicating to me in some new form. I shook my head quickly, shaking it, confused, bewildered, f l y i n g, as the Tina smoke now started to hit me with the haze of poppers. I exhaled back a huge breath and he swallowed my air as his pupils receded to their original size. He pushed away from me, his head and body, retracting rapidly, his large frame silhouetted against the fluorescent green light that appeared behind him on the ceiling, the darkness of his skin taking on a sharp yet faint edge cast by the overhead haze.

He exhaled and two fingers found their way into my hole.

His head turned slowly at an angle, his right chin lowering itself asymmetrically as he studied my face. I think my mouth was slightly a gape. I wasn't sure. His face was a further distance from mine now. It seemed far away. I couldn't see his pupils anymore or judge their size. His head turned in the other direction as I realized four fingers had been caressing my hole.

"I think your pussy is ready to sing."

He appeared in focus, sharp. His eyes were all black.

[mike43]

Mmm I need a booty bump and fist

[Mattsdarkside]

Fuckkk, I love this so much.  Pure lust between these fuckers, enhanced in the best way.

[fisterm8]

i seriously need to find this barber so he can booty bump me  or take me home to his then sprinkle magic dust on his cock and fuck & fill me with his man seed all night...........i would never want to go back home.

 

beautiful story and perfectly written........hope we get more soon........im loving this one.

[rawfucklover]

FUCK IT!!! After I read this, my hole is losen by both story and Tina, and ready to get wrecked.

[Bttm2go]

Wow, another hot story. Thanks.

[whorepig]

Oh fuck love a man that shaves his bottoms hole

[LBRaw]

Hey Redrt66 .. this is so damn good!!! Everything about this ... damn .... love this story man!!!!

Finger feeding him the T ... working the dust in his ass ....... damn perfect...

[TallChiBBBtm]

very hot story!

[Redrt66]

He grabbed me almost violently, yanking on my jock waistband as if it was a leash attached to a pet collar. He pushed and shoved my body forcefully, rearranging my position on the barber's chair, so suddenly, that I hadn't realized I had been standing for a second before I was pushed HARD back on the chair. He manhandled me, arranging my elbows so they were now resting on the seat, my upper body parallel to the cushion, my chest pressed on the leather, my head facing forward.

I saw it before I felt it.

It was in the mirror a foot or so way from me but it may as well have been a telescopic vision as it looked obscenely large, as if that was even possible. The head seemed fatter and engorged. Had it gotten bigger since it had been in my mouth moments ago? Or how long ago was THAT? The warm still air in the shop, mixed with the scents of our sweaty bodies with the antiseptic and grooming product aromas lingering around us, seemed to be playing tricks on my perception. We both were sweating profusely, beads of perspiration trickling from me, adding another layer of sheen to the worn leather of the chair. I looked at him in the mirror and from my viewing angle, the reflection of his head was cut in the diagonal crack in the glass. His left eye appeared normal, the other eye on the face was off centered with the iris and pupil appearing to be consumed in black.

The thick uncut cockhead entered without any restriction. I am not even sure I felt it as my hunger had been building for quite a long time now that I wondered if this was really happening or some deranged wishful thinking. His thick dick slid into my hole, sans spit or other lubrication other than my own natural manhole juice I was creating from my hunger. I turned my gaze from the mirror and tried to balance myself in the forced position on the chair. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at his strange reflection anymore. I wanted to savor the sensation of his thick dick throbbing at my hole, in the blackness of my mind, unobstructed by my visual distractions. My heartbeat seemed to be getting louder as I took a deep breath.

"You been askin' for THIS, huh Boy?" The dick head remained where it was at the entrance of my very hungry manhole. "How it feelin'?"

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, my eyes still shut. "It feels great! It feels so thick, nice and fat!" I squirmed a little wanting to get more of that shaft inside me.

"PUT IT IN!" I yelled, daring him.

He grabbed the waistband of my jock, pulling again on them tightly with such FORCE that my back and upper body suddenly jerked.

"DON'T BE FUCKIN' TELLIN' ME WHAT TO DO!!!" He yelled angrily. "I told you earlier : you ain't makin' the rules here. YA HEAR?!?"

Outside a car on the avenue seemed to swerve as I heard the sounds of tires running hard and violently against the road surface. The summer evening humidity creeped in from the street, under the locked shop door, crawling on the linoleum floor and up the barber"s chair.

He yanked hard on my jock again and then with his right hand shoved my upper body forward that my weight crashed on itself, my elbows unfolding, my chest hitting the warm seat of the chair. My left arm slammed against the hard metal side of the chair. A sharp intense pain came over me. I felt his thick cockhead trace against my asslips again and any discomfort I had just experienced seemed to quickly evaporate. He carefully moved his dickhead against my opening, just slowly, up and down, up and down but with a little pressure so it felt as if the bulbous head would enter at any moment. All he had to do was push. But he didn't. Instead he repeated this tease over and over, toying with me. I squirmed as it all felt magnificent.

Suddenly, he shoved his thick shaft into me HARD and swift. And as open, as hungry as my hole was, it still took me by surprise, the roughness of the entry mixed with his sudden forcefulness and change of tone. But I didn't care. A feeling of exasperation and fulfillment came over me as if the inner heat from the large booty bump from earlier was finally subsisting, like smoldering sparks of a raging fire finally settling down. But the heat was still there. He stayed in his current position, barely moving. I finally opened my eyes and turned my head to gaze at our reflection. His head was cocked back, his arms extended, holding on to my waistband of my jock. His eyes were closed now and I could see he was muttering under his breath so low, that I barely heared him. I was only aware of it as I saw the slow movement of his thick lips in his reflection.

"Muthafukka...muthafukka...," he whispered to himself.

There was a slight sensation of rocking as I sensed his thick dick head sliding inside me but barely an inch was entering me, in and out, in and out. My hole was just so sensitive that everything felt MAGNIFIED. I was rolling my head uncontrollably on the chair, the cheek on my face rubbing against the leather. The dampness of my sweat made the leather feel slick. His subtle fucking continued at this slow pace. I was satisfied that he was finally inside me.

I looked at the mirror again and was surprised to see most of his thick shaft OUTSIDE of me. The cock head was sliding in and out of my hole, stretching my asslips as he would pull out, the soft flesh swollen and clinging to this thick shaft, sliding in and out. He was b a r e l y in me. And yet I was feeling completely turned on by his limited entry. The thickness of the cock head, his deliberately slower pace, and the constant pushing and pulling at my asslips was providing a new sensation. It was like the stretch when someone was fisting me but less so and yet more intense at the same time. He kept going, slowly, methodically, in some studied rhythm. I kept watching our reflection, impressed at his skill and how he was making my hole feel with just the limited entry. I could sometimes see the edge of his foreskin wrapped tight and pulled back at the rim of his forehead as he pulled out carefully. And then it would disappear as he would plunge back into my willing and hungry hole. Whatever fire that had been subsiding earlier seemed to slowly creep back in as the effect of the booty bump would rise and fall, like a tide washing in.

The engorged dark shaft appeared larger again. The heat in the shop and inside me from all the drugs were all playing with my perception. The fact that his cock was only partially inside with just the head carefully going in and out made his shaft appear longer in the mirror. It was like a camera trick and yet what I was experiencing between my legs only seemed to substantiate it. His skill made my hole so content and filled, even if it was only a few inches of his bulbous cockhead entering me. I didn't want it to end, it felt so good.

I could have stayed in this position forever.

The shaft pushed and pulled slowly, quickly, slowly again and then VIOLENTLY. Every now and then he would shove HARD all the way inside me. My body would jerk forward by the sudden assault, the shock and surprise of the feeling of his mass and volume completing me. And before I could really savor it, before I could relax my inner muscles of my hole to let him gain more entry, before I could mentally visualize it all inside me-he would pull out quickly.

"How's that special pussy feelin' now?" He suddenly spoke, the deep voice penetrating the silence and warm, still air in the room.

He pushed in carefully and pulled out in the same fashion.

I moaned. It was all I could utter in response.

He lunged in HARD again, shoving my upper body forward on the chair. I caught my breath, but barely had time to feel his thickness and mass inside me again before he suddenly pulled all the way out. He retreated so quickly and violently that if felt more criminal that he would leave me so empty, so void. The unexpected emptiness was almost painful as my manhole pulsed from the shock, my heart beat coming back in a loud drum, louder and louder as if it was a soundtrack to the sudden turn of events.

I looked in the mirror. My face couldn't conceal my silent disappointment, my hunger. He pulled away from the chair and grabbed the poppers bottle that he had set aside earlier on the counter.

"Get up Boy!" He commanded.

I took a deep breath and slowly applied pressure on my arms to push me upwards from the chair. I took another careful, deep breath. My heart was beating faster and faster. I swear the sound was thundering in the room. His left arm suddenly grabbed me by my jock waistband as he helped me off the chair. I stood in front of him, trying to regain my balance from the change of position and dizziness.

"Get that broom and dustpan," he motioned to one corner of the shop.

What?" I was puzzled, confused and still dizzy.

"You heard me Boy."

I walked to the corner, leaned down to the floor and grabbed the dustpan with my left hand and stood straight and grabbed the broom with my other arm. I looked at him, still bewildered.

"Now get over here and get on your knees and sweep all that mess of your hairs around us."

"You can't be serious," I instinctively replied, almost sarcastically.

He suddenly stepped forward and slapped me HARD with his free hand. It happened so fast and unexpectedly that I dropped the dustpan, the metal banged on the floor and seemed to echo for a moment until it was enveloped by the air in the room that seemed to be getting hotter and hotter.

In between us, on the ceiling, the fluorescent light snapped away again, almost on cue to that moment, the lighting in the room getting dimmer in an instant.

"I ain't gonna tell you twice," he said slowly, sternly.

I looked at him, almost angry, my heartbeat getting louder and louder. He wasn't smiling or moving. I looked at his thick uncut shaft, still erect and glistening from my hole's juices. I saw the firmness in his stare so I bent down again, this time with my whole body, kneeling on the linoleum floor, collecting the dustpan with my left hand and holding the broom with my other.

"You know what to do," he instructed.

This wasn't easy. For one, I was very high. Whatever fire I had inside me seemed to have been quickly reignited with the unexpected slap on my face. It still stung on my cheek, his sudden explosion on me. But it burned even more in the emptiness between my legs. I bent forward with my upper body so it was angled lower to the floor with my legs spread wide for balance as my arms tried to sweep the tiny black needles of my clipped hair that was scattered all around us. I couldn't use my arms to support my balance so I spread my legs further, using the weight of my lower body for support, my ass in the air.

I heard him step behind me. I was too low now. I didn't have the advantage of the mirrors around us to observe the situation at this level. He paced around me as I could only see his bare legs and his big feet still wearing the beat-up sneakers. I saw the base of the barber's chair behind me and the other chairs around us. Somehow the light from the ceiling didn't seem to penetrate down this deep so the room from this perspective seemed darker, dirtier. He continued to step around me slowly until he was behind me. And then he bent down and I felt part of his large mass and weight of his upper body on my back.

"I want those floors spotless," he leaned into my side, whispering in my right ear.

Suddenly his hands were around my head, one hand holding the poppers under my nostrils.

"You know what to do," he repeated.

I breathed deep, deeper than I thought possible. And as alarmed as I was from his unexpected assault earlier, I still wanted to please him. He positioned the bottle under the left nostril, then the right. My breaths were long and focused. And then he placed the bottle one last time on the left side again. I took an even larger breath and inhaled as long as I could as my heart seemed to want to come out of my chest. I felt as if I was spinning even more as my head, now lower to the floor, seemed to accentuate the chemical fumes entering me. His weight on my back released itself from me as he positioned himself behind me. I heard him take his own deep, long breaths from the bottle and then a sound that made me realize he was inhaling the sharp, nasty air into his mouth. I heard him quickly seal the cap and set the bottle aside on the floor.

"Sweep, Boy!" He yelled, his voice suddenly muffled as his mouth enveloped my hole, his hands at my ass cheeks, pulling them apart obscenely wide as he exhaled the poppers into my burning hole. It was like throwing a lit match into a pool of gasoline. My hole erupted in a new layer of heat, hunger and anticipation.

I tried to do as he commanded but it was impossible. The haze of my earlier poppers intake, my body angle made me even more dizzy and unbalanced, and this new sensation on my manhole was too much to bear. I was trying to please him but regardless of how I tried I could barely get any of the mess of tiny hairs on the floor in the dustpan. One moment I would manage to push the broom to collect and push the tiny shreds of hair. The next moment, my daze and condition would take over me and I would spill the contents back on the floor making more of a mess.

"Muthafukka...," he muttered, in between breaths, his tongue diving deep into my my now even, hungrier hole.

Beads of sweat rained down from my head to the floor. How was it that it was hotter down at this level? Wasn't heat supposed to rise? Or maybe it was : from my head to my ass that was higher in my kneeling position. I was sweating so much that miniature pools were being created on the floor surface, my tiny black hairs floating and gliding around in the perspiration. The hairs appeared to multiply and take over the tiny lakes of sweat on the floor, almost like the blackness consuming his eyes from earlier.

He devoured my manhole. He was like a madman speaking an unintelligible language in between my ass. The poppers we had shared was hitting me hard. My upper body-angled lower on the floor-only accentuated the intense dizziness and floating experience I was going through. And of course there was the massive booty bump from earlier and his uncut cockhead teasing that seemed to have gone on for an eternity that added to whatever I was now feeling. It was as if everything he did was some prolonged extra-sensory experience, some expected and heightened more than I was used to, and some completely unexpected, unscripted. I only wanted more.

His fat tongue glided slowly up inside my hole. I could feel the thick tip of it enter me, licking on my upper manhole wall. There was a rough coarseness to his tongue that I could sense that contrasted to the soft, moist textures of the inside of my manhole. All my sensations seemed so heightened that I wasn't surprised I could fathom this. And then the tongue would exit, yet continue to lick away, the roughness sliding along the freshly shaved smooth skin around my pulsing manhole. There was the addition of his beard which was surprisingly stiff and bristling. It felt like a rake against my hole. Every movement of his mouth around my hole would illicit a mix of sharp intense prickling pain like hundreds of tiny needles stabbing my sensitive shaved skin. His saliva was mixing with the layer of sweat in between my hole and balls causing so much moistness I could feel it run down my inner thighs, thin rivers of sex sliding down my legs, connecting with the pools of our perspiration on the floor, my tiny black shreds of hairs sailing on the surface.

And then he would pull his tongue into his mouth for a moment, wetting it with more with his saliva. His entire mouth would consume my hole and he would suck on it slowly. He sucked with a gentle force to create a vacuum. And then he would release it quickly so that a puckering sound, moist and wet, would come from between my legs. And then he would kiss my hole again with that big mouth and suck some more, creating the vacuum again and release it as suddenly as it had started. He repeated this over and over, the smack and wet noises getting louder, nastier, almost like a sordid rhythm.

My manpussy was singing.

It was driving me crazy with the dizziness in my head from everything. And just as I was really getting into the intense sensations, his tongue and mouth would suddenly retreat. It was like he knew I was riding on the feeling, almost at its peak, and just before I would hit that high note he would suddenly stop. It felt deliberate. It felt calculated. It felt fucking great. His hands would pull my ass further apart like he was tying to rip me in half. My hole felt wider, bigger. His fat tongue would invade me again. Harder, tougher, pushing with force to gain more entry. The fat, rough tongue would suddenly lap at my burning manhole, furiously flicking at such a pace that every lick felt like a moist stabbing at my hole. I was shaking uncontrollably from the over-stimulation. He was groaning as he ate my manhole, muttering under his breath.

"Muthaaa..." The fat tongue would lap rapidly on my hole. "...fukkaaaa...." The tongue would dive deeper, harder.

It was too much. I was on hyper-stimulation overload. I dropped the dustpan, the loud clanging of the metal hitting the floor rang in the shop. Little black hairs littered the floor.

"WHAT THE..." His mouth pulled away from my hole, his hands pushing away from me. I turned my head slightly to see him suddenly kneel straight up, pulling away from my backside.

"DIDN'T I SAY TO CLEAN THIS MESS?!?" His voice boomed in the space. SLAP!!! The sudden sting of his hand hitting my ass took me by surprise. He hit me with such force that my body jerked forward slightly from the assault. SLAP!!! Another swing on my other cheek. My heartbeat was back in the forefront, the rhythm beating faster, louder. The residue of the slaps on my ass burned. I sensed the heat building again as my manhole was left vacant of any activity. It seemed to protest the lack of tongue, dick, and fingers by burning more intensely.

"Look at this fuckin' mess!" He complained, getting up now and circling around me. I adjusted my upper body, lifting it from its current lowered position. Suddenly I felt his right foot on my head, the dirty beat-up sneaker pushing on me. "Did I say you could stand up, Boy?" His foot applied more pressure, pushing my head lower and lower to the floor. I could not speak. The burning between my legs was getting more intense that I couldn't comprehend a reply. I nodded my head slightly in response as he continued to apply pressure with his foot, my head so low now that my left cheek was brushing against a pool of perspiration on the floor that was covered with my shredded black hairs.

"You disappoint me Boy!" He removed his foot from my head and I heard him walk around me, kicking the broom away from us as it banged against one of the barber chairs and resettled against the corner floor. I lifted my head slightly, careful to not offend him. I so wanted to please him so he could continue with my burning, needy manhole. He lunged forward unexpectedly, his left foot now on my head, pressure applying itself until my face was again at the floor. I groaned. I was hating it and loving it at the same time. My manhole pulsed from the excitement. He grabbed the dustpan away from me and suddenly released his foot from my head. I exhaled a deep breath and turned my gaze silently watching him approach the counter, the dustpan in one hand, his thick uncut monster cock swaying as he moved.

I tried not to look. I didn't want him hitting me again although the sudden assaults did excite me. I could feel my hole pulsing, needy for his attention. I heard water running from the shampoo sink station and wondered what he was doing. The water shut off and from my angle I could see he was approaching the counter. He was fumbling through my parrTy kit. He approached me again, the dirty best-up sneakers were now near my head. "You stay right there, Boy," he instructed. His right foot lifted and settled on my head again, more pressure this time that the side of my face was pushed to the linoleum surface, my cheek flattening parallel to the floor. He stood over me, his feet facing my shoulders, leaning forward as he bent down, getting on top of me so that his heavy cock and balls were resting on the back of my neck. I could smell the mustiness between his legs and my hole pulsed some more. He squatted over me as the mass and weight of his body pushed me further onto the floor. I felt one of his hands grab at my ass, roughly pulling my cheek aside.

"What a fuckin' beautiful shaved pussy you got there," he said, proud of his work.

I felt a new pressure on my manhole. It was thick and heavy and it was going inside me slowly, methodically. I was still dizzy and all his weight on me wasn't helping to comprehend the situation. I knew it wasn't his dick since his body was turned around in its current position.

Like -WTF!?!

And then I felt the BURN.

O H F U C K.

He was giving me YET another booty bump. Was he intentionally planning to get me so spun that I would be out of control? Clearly I had already went past that point much earlier. My head was crunched on the floor. My face was itching from the tiny needles of my trimmed hair that was now sticking to my cheek, my chin. I wanted so much to scratch my face yet I couldn't move as the BURNING between my legs only intensified. I stared across the room trying to gather some focus, some sense of normalcy to the situation that was far from normal. And all I could see across from me were shadows setting itself against the corner and slowly approaching, covering the shop further in the dimmed lighting.

The mass and volume at my hole pressed in further, pushing the burn of the booty bump deeper. It was thick and felt wet and cold. As it got in deeper, the girth decreased so that any earlier tension dissipated. But yet the burning MAGNIFIED. I closed my eyes, the weight of his lower body seemed heavier on my head. I could feel his thick hard-on throbbing even more on the back of my neck. I now realized he had coated the tip of the rubber handle of the dustpan with Tina that he was pushing slowly into my hungry, burning hole.

"FUCKIN' BEAUTIFUL!!!" He shouted unexpectedly.

He pushed the handle of the dustpan carefully into my hole. And then he would pull it out at the same pace. He repeated this over and over, taking his time, playing with the rhythm, the speed, the pressure. I was groaning louder uncontrollably, the intensity of what was happening mixed with the continuing graduation of the Tina burning further inside my tunnel. As he pulled out the widest part of the handle would dilate on my hole, the sense of the stretching so dramatic it was causing me to hallucinate, my mind running away from me, visualizing some other scene of a crater expanding in slow motion, a surreal pictorial metaphor inside my head.

Waves of heat and fire exploded inside me.

Suddenly everything took on a hyper level. The darkness seemed to dance around the room, shadows jumping from one corner to the next, one minute near my face that was still smashed on the floor, the next on the wall, the ceiling. The flickering of the fluorescent lighting above us now seemed to be occurring faster and faster, further adding to my questionable state of mind. My senses were ultra-heightened. I could hear traffic screeching outside the barber shop and the thunderous pace of pedestrians pacing on the sidewalk with my ear to the ground. My heartbeat seemed deafening. The aroma of the shop also took on another level that my nostrils burned from the chemical fog I seemed to be inhaling.

And in between my legs I could only feel s a t I s f a c t I o n.

He pushed and pulled the dustpan handle so hard and rapid on my manhole that I could barely catch my breath. The quick contraction and dilation of my hole was almost too much to comprehend. One moment I was in ecstasy. I wanted to savor it, to allow the glow of the sensation to pause inside my head. But he would not even allow that. Instead he would pull the handle out violently and abruptly, so fast that it was wrenching. It was another kind of burn and I would jerk from the assault in a mix of pain and unexpected pleasure. I bit my lip so hard I ripped the soft skin, tasting a little of my blood.

He pushed in hard again, the massive girth of the handle expanding my hole. It felt like one of my thicker toys. He shook the dustpan so that the handle jerked left and right, up and down, violently inside me. The massive amount of Tina inside my hole only heightened the feeling. It should have hurt but the fire inside was tinting all my sensations that I only wished the handle were thicker and longer! I groaned louder, my face rubbing against the floor, more tiny hairs collecting on my cheek. He pushed harder and I felt the wide tip of the handle sink inside me, a momentarily glorious pain as the widest part pushed against my manhole. And then it was was just a feeling of being filled as the entire handle was in my hole. He started banging on the flat surface of the dustpan gently at first, then adding gradual pressure as if he was drumming on it, the vibrations echoing inside my tunnel. The tip of the handle was near my prostate so every time he would bang on the dustpan it would send a tiny shockwave inside me. He would bang hard then gradually less pressure and then build it back up again. The decrease it. Then increase it. The vibrations were maddening and random. I could feel precum leaking out of me as if he was milking me. Precum fell to the floor and mixed with the lakes of perspiration on the linoleum surface.

And then suddenly he jumped off my body, pulling the handle out of my hole. He yanked it out so fast that it hurt. But it was a magnificent pain like a large wide cock violently pulling out of a furious fuck. I yelled uncontrollably wanting it back inside me.

"GET UP!" He shouted. I was shaking, but not from his command, but from everything else: the drugs inside me, the emptiness between my legs and the heat in the shop that seemed to only increase, like my hunger. I took a deep breath as my heartbeat suddenly became evident again, drumming louder and louder like some dub step rhythm rising from under the floorboards. I inhaled deep and exhaled deeper and mentally tried to calm myself.

"GET UP I SAID!"

S L A P !!!

FUCKING HELL! That last strike really hit me this time. The weight and force and suddenness felt like a hot pan scorching on my ass cheek. It stung so bad it momentarily distracted my mind from the hunger and emptiness in between my legs. I took another deep breath and slowly, carefully stood up, turning slightly to him and seeing my crazed reflection in the cracked mirror.

I looked deranged. Tiny black hairs were randomly stuck on my face, my chin and somehow my upper body. I looked very, very high. I looked at him standing at arm's length away from me. He looked equally high if not higher. His thick uncut cock was still standing at attention. Suddenly he threw the dustpan across the room where it hit one of the other chairs, banging against the metal surface of the thick base, the clanging echoing in the room for a moment until it fell loudly on the floor, swallowed by the shadows. It caught me by surprise, distracting me. And then I looked at his cock and back at my reflection in the mirror.

Nice haircut.

I smiled at him and looked deep into his eyes. The blackness that had consumed his iris earlier had faded and I could make out the color of his eyes. He almost smiled at me.

"Get back on the chair." He wasn't yelling at me now. He turned the chair so it was in profile again in the mirror and pulled on the side crank as the chair lowered itself by a few inches. I climbed on, setting my ass on the seat.

"No-not like that," he grabbed my right arm and pulled me off the seat, manhandling me again with force, turning my body around, guiding me, so that I was facing the back of the chair, my knees bent and kneeling at the seat, my legs spread wide so that they hit the edge of the chair arms, my ass hanging over the seat.

"Beautiful," he said, proudly.

I turned my head slightly and gazed in the mirror. My ass cheeks looked slightly bruised from the earlier slapping. My hole looked red and puffy. Was that blood on my asslips? Or was it some imagined paranoia setting in? I couldn't tell as everything seemed over-saturated as if this was a Photoshop image with the color levels artificially adjusted. My heart beat louder and louder.

He stepped onto the chair, standing on the platform base that was elevated off the floor surface. He faced me, his hard uncut cock pointing at my hungry hole.

I took a deep breath. Finally he was going to really fuck me!

Out of nowhere we both heard jingling with the lock of the shop door from the outside. We stared at each other silently for a moment, my head cranked awkwardly, as the door pushed in, opening unexpectedly, the blinds on the inside of the glass door rattling.

A man stepped inside. He was concealed in the darkness of the shadows at the entrance of the shop, his face indistinguishable. But I could make out his silhouette. He was tall with wide shoulders and a shaved head. He looked very fit. He stepped in quickly, the door slamming shut behind him as his features became more visible in the dim lighting.

"HARRISON?!?" The barber and I shouted TOGETHER.

We looked at each other for an instant of shock and then at the man, stunned that we BOTH knew him.

"DAD?!?" He looked as equally surprised as we did. And then he gulped and said my name, almost in a whisper, suddenly recognizing me, squatting on the chair, my hole pulsing uncontrollably as his father's bulbous uncut cockhead entered my burning hole.

[versmetropig]

Excellent!! Love it!

[MackyJay]

Nice twist

[TallChiBBBtm]

Love it!! Can't wait for more...

[Guest Gigicxuogphof]

Wow!

[FatFuckPigMA]

THis would make a great porn movie assuming we can find some porn stars who can actually act.