Zane's Stories

 

The Barber Shop

by Zane

From The Sex Chronicles: Shattering the Myth

Copyright©1999

All Rights Reserved

 

Enough was enough! I had tried everything imaginable to get the brotha's attention short of hanging a Take Me, I'm Yours sign on my back. I first met Keanu when I took my little brother, Darwin, to The Cutting Edge Barber Shop to get a fade one Saturday morning.

I sat there pretending to be enthralled in an issue of Sports Illustrated while all the men cackled on and on about this honie or that honie. Movie stars mostly who wouldn't give any of them nuccas the time of day. I would gladly invest in a vibrator before giving it up to any of their busted asses.

This one snaggled-tooth brotha was sitting in the corner, waiting his turn and bragging about how he could turn Halle Berry out. I started to interject my two cents and tell his ass to get real. There he was in his plaid shorts, white sleeveless undershirt, black penny loafers and white tube socks with red stripes bragging and boasting about how he could fuck a sista so hard that she would beg for mercy. I started to tell him, "A sista will simply look at your ugly ass and beg for mercy."

By the time Darwin finally got into a barber's chair, I couldn't take snaggle-tooth's bama ass anymore so I told him, "Negro, please! No one wants your skank ass!"

That did it! I had managed to be incognito up until then, hiding behind the pages of the magazine. Once I spoke some words, it was like every nucca in the place suddenly noticed there was pussy present. All of them except for Keanu. His fine ass didn't even look my way. He was too busy shaping up this knucklehead who kept winking at me and doing that I-want-to-lick-the-lining-out-your-pussy motioning with his tongue.

I don't know whether the pigmy in Keanu's chair drew my attention to him or the fact he didn't so much as give me a sideways glance, but I knew right then and there I had to have it.

I'm not sure how many of you sistas can relate but there are times when you see something you simply must have and you know from jump that you will move heaven, earth and any hoes lurking around out the way to get it. That's how I felt when I first spotted Keanu.

About 6'2", cafe au lait, enough muscles to lend three other brothas some and still be the bomb diggity, cinematic smile, neatly shaven and bald as a baby's ass. Not the kind of bald where the nucca's head is shaped like a peanut or a gigantic, elephantine football but the sexy kind of bald.

Before I could really get my erotic daydream going about his ass, Darwin's head was cut and the barber who cut it was in my face holding his hand out for his ten bucks. The one who cut Darwin's hair, Randy, was not fine. In fact, his ass was not hitting on anything at all. His foul, au natural breath made me want to shove a clove of garlic down his throat to improve the aroma.

When we walked by Keanu's chair on the way out, I tried to give him the eye. You know the eye that tells a man you want to give him a candlelight bubble bath and then lick his ass dry? He didn't even glance my way. Now granted I'm not the finest sista on the planet but I was accustomed to getting mad play and frankly, I was offended by the fact he didn't even blink in my direction.

It was all good though because by the time we walked the three blocks home, I knew Keanu's ass was in for it. I was going to get that dick if I had to camp outside of that barber shop and kick tramps to the curb to get to it.

The next day I waited for the shop to close. I was standing outside under a dim streetlight, with the hoochie dress of all hoochie dresses on, smiling and profiling for his benefit alone. He grinned at me and then walked in the other direction. I was about to follow him when this damn wino came up to me and offered to trade a half-empty bottle of Thunderbird for a blow job. I missed my opportunity that night because I was too busy telling the drunken bastard to get the hell out of my face while Keanu was pulling out of the lot in his silver BMW Z3.

Okay, so maybe the all out fuck-me-like-you-hate-me approach was a bit overkill. I decided to try the subtle approach next. I found out he attended Bethel Baptist Church and followed his ass there. I sat beside him in the pew, nonchalantly rubbed my thigh up against his, and even shared a hymnal with him while the congregation sang Amazing Grace. I thought I saw a glimmer of hope but as soon as church service ended, he was ghost.

That's when I began to wonder if my honey was funny but I quickly decided even if he was a homie-sexual, I was going to bring his ass on back to the nana. He was mine, all mine. He just didn't know it yet.

I masturbated day in and day out thinking about Keanu. Something had to give. There are only two ways to deal with any type of frustration. You either have to accomplish your goal or give up on the idea completely. The same rules apply to sexual frustration. I was not about to give up so

...One Tuesday night, I waited until he was in the shop alone. In fact, he had already locked up for the night. At first, I tapped on the door lightly, like a cat scratching to get in, which was not that far off base because my kitty was damn sure purring. When he didn't answer the door, I banged the shit out of it until he raised the shade a little and peeked out.

He pointed to the sign on the door stating the hours of business but I told him, "Please, I need to get a quickie!" I meant that shit literally too.

Keanu unlocked the door and countered, "Miss, we're closed for the evening."

"My name's Tammy, not Miss, and this won't take long. I just want a quick shape-up."

We stood there staring in each other's eyes for a brief moment. I noticed his were a dark gray. My punnany heater meter went up ten degrees.

"Okay, I guess I can shape you up real quick." He grinned at me and stepped aside to let me in.

Now ordinarily it would seem strange for a woman to go to a barber shop for a shape up, but my do is short. Any shorter and it wouldn't be a do but a don't so I wasn't too obvious. My real hairdresser did use clippers on it.

He motioned for me to get into his chair and went to get a smock for me. I waved it off and told him, "I won't be needing that."

He looked at me dumbfounded. "You should really wear this so your clothes won't get messed up."

"Don't worry. My clothes won't get messed up." With that, I let down the straps of my black sundress and let the bad boy fall to the floor, revealing my naked as a Butterball turkey ass.

That's when something came over him. Maybe he realized freaks really do come out at night. He giggled and blushed nervously. "What are you doing?"

I bit my bottom lip and grabbed him by the chin so he would look me in the face. "Getting ready for my shape up."

Then I sat in his chair and spread my legs, letting each one dangle over the sides. My pussy was so exposed, you could have taken pictures of my fallopian tubes from thirty feet away.

"Have you ever had a woman do something totally freaky to you?" I ran the fingers of my right hand through my baby fine pubic hair and then played with my clit, gliding my middle finger in and out of my pussy walls. "I was wondering if you could shape this up for me?"

He hesitated, then gleamed like a lighthouse beacon. "I'm a professional barber. There's nothing I can't shape up."

"Kewl! Then get some shaving cream and a razor and get to work."

He silently obeyed my wishes. I couldn't help but notice the sudden pep in his step as he gathered all his shaving equipment. He stepped on the bottom of the chair, pumping it a few times to make it go higher on the riser and then pulled up a wooden chair. He sat down, positioning himself between my calves, and then grabbed the heels of my black pumps, the only things I had on, and spread my legs open even wider.

"UMMMMMM, you like this huh?" I asked him, still playing with myself with my right hand and lifting up one of my breasts with my left one so I could flick my tongue seductively over my hard nipple.

"No damn doubt about it," he responded and then removed my hand from my pussy, holding it by the wrist and licking the juice off my middle finger. He drew the entire thing into his mouth and then let it out slowly.

"UMMMMM, that's what I'm talking about," I moaned. "Let's get jiggy with it."

He laughed. "Yeah, let's!"

He mixed up some shaving cream and then gently spread it on my pussy, commenting as he went along. "You know, I've never shaved a woman's pussy before, but I have often dreamed about it. I think it's sooooooo sexy."

"Well, I'm living proof that sometimes dreams do indeed come true." I reached out and started rubbing his sexy ass bald head while he gently and methodically started to shed my vagina of its fur. "I wanna see it. Hand me a mirror."

He complied and then I held the mirror at an angle where I could watch him go to work. Five minutes later, my coochie was officially free like a runaway slave and I was ready to get to the good part.

"You did an excellent job. Thank you!"

"No, thank you. The pleasure was all mine."

"Would you like me to take my legs down now or did you want to do a closer inspection of your work?"

He knew the dilly. "No, don't take them down yet. Hang on a sec while I get a towel."

I knew it was coming. The dick I had been helplessly craving. He came back with the towel, wiped the remaining shaving cream off and then positioned the towel beneath my ass cheeks.

Brotha man must have had the munchies because he wasted no time eating his late night dinner. I think I came about five times in twenty minutes. He spread my pussy lips open with his long fingers and then gave me one hell of a tongue-lashing with his thick, juicy tongue. He was so starved and eating me up like Pacman devours dots, I pondered whether he might have smoked a dime bag of weed before I got there.

"Rub your head in it," I instructed him and when he placed that shiny, cafe au lait, bald head deep in between my cum-drenched thighs and rubbed it around, it looked like a glazed doughnut that put Dunkin to shame.

I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his tongue deep into my pussy. I'm surprised I don't have his facial features branded into my vaginal lips to this very day.

This went on and on, the only sounds in the shop being my moans, his moans, his sucking, and the irritating second hand on the wall clock. By the time he was done, the towel beneath my ass was drenched.

"Fuck me," I requested.

"I fully intend to. I'm going to fuck the living day-lights out of you."

He stood up and I helped him whip his dick out faster than a ninja whips out his sword. It was just like I love them to. I have a predilection for big dick men and Keanu definitely fit the bill.

He pulled me by the heels of my shoes again, like they were the joysticks on an arcade game, repositioning my ass closer to the edge of the chair so he could get to the good stuff easier. I grabbed the head of his dick and directed it where I wanted it to go. My vagina burned a little at first. Minute particles of the shaving cream probably went in with his dick, but I didn't care. After all, that's why they make Monistat 7. I wanted it all. I got it all.

He pushed it completely in and lifted my legs up in the air, working the hell out them joysticks and fucked me without mercy. He leaned over and grabbed a hold of one of my nipples with his teeth and worked me all over. No, this was not a homie-sexual. This was a superhero. A man's man. A hoochie's delight.

"Aw yeah, take this pussy baby!"

"Where do you want my to take it?"

"To the bridge." We both laughed, realizing how corny we were being but the sex was the bomb.

He took his dick out and told me to stand up and turn around. I bent over the chair so he could hit it from the back. Boy, did I get into that shit then. I put one knee up on the worn leather of the chair, grabbed a hold of the neckrest, and worked my pussy on his ass.

He grabbed me by the shoulder, taking it deeper and I started howling like a damn dog. At first, I was wondering what or who was making those noises. Then I realized it was me and Cujo wasn't waiting outside the door after all.

Keanu started babbling. "Oh shit! Oh damn! This is some good ass pussy! Oh shit!"

That's when I knew he was about to shoot the mother load. Damn, did he! He pulled it out and came all over my ass so much, I needed about four other sistas' asses for backup purposes.

We rested up for a good fifteen minutes. Okay, make it two minutes, and then I went to town on his dick. It was amazing. It was spectacular. It was a fucking miracle, the way I sucked his damn dick. I wish we had a camcorder rolling because I could have sold that shit on the Internet and clocked some serious dollars. I never knew I had it like that. Sheit! I would have made my girl Kandi, a part-time college student and part-time call girl, jealous as a mug.

Keanu started babbling again as I sucked the life out of his loins. I caught a rhythm, relaxed my throat, and let the head of his dick bang up against my tonsils until he exploded, lining my stomach with some Negropectate.

We fell asleep that night, right there in his barber chair, with me sitting on his lap with my legs hung over an armrest. When the sun came up, Keanu fucked me royally again on the rinky-dink table covered with sports and skin mags. We had to end up throwing all those back issues away. A foreign substance was sticking the pages together, if you get my drift.

Keanu and I have been dating seriously for nine months now and I'm not letting his ass go anywhere. I don't have to pay for hair cuts anymore, my pussy stays smooth as silk, and my sex life is all that plus a buck fifty. I may have stretched it a bit when I called him a superhero since he can't fly and he can't shoot spider webs from his wrist. He may not be a superhero, but he's damn sure a super man.