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Hot Clip Barber
By Whiskey McNaughton
Copyright 2011 by Whiskey McNaughton
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Published by Crescent Suns eBooks on Smashwords
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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Hot Clip Barber
Chapter One
He knew he was in trouble as soon as he walked into Tom’s Barber Shop and Tom wasn’t there.
Instead, a babe so smoking hot the fire department should have been camping just inside the door of this barber shop was standing behind Tom’s barber chair, cutting the hair of an old geezer who had been getting his hair cut there longer than Jim Jennings had.
Jim paused just inside the door, his heart beating about as hard inside his chest as his dick was inside his pants. He knew he should turn around and walk out, but he had been getting his hair cut by Tom at this same barber shop since he was just a teenager and Tom had taken over for his dad, who had been the original owner of the shop.
Jim walked in and took a seat in one of the old plastic chairs that were about to fall apart they had been in the shop so long. He leaned over and picked up one of the Sports Illustrated magazines that he had looked at many times in the past few years. Tom always bought the Swimsuit Editions of Sports Illustrated and left them all sitting out for several years before replacing them. He had tried leaving the latest issues of Playboy and Penthouse sitting out, but some of the women’s liberation groups that had begun in the seventies had come down hard on him for that and so he had reluctantly switched to Sports Illustrated.
Jim’s eyes were more on the babe behind the chair than the babes inside the magazine, though. He flipped the pages of the magazine, but his concentration – if it could be called that – was centered on the barber in this shop where Tom no longer stood.
Was Tom sick? He hadn’t heard about Tom dying and he hadn’t read his obituary in the local paper, so he had to still be alive, right?
Old Man Wellington stood from the chair when the hot babe removed the apron from around his front and paid the eight dollars listed on the price board for hair cuts for those over fifty-five. Wellington was eighty is he was a day, so he never even tipped, believing that a person who worked in the services industry was paid well enough by the price charged and if more was needed the price should be raised.
After the door closed on Old Man Wellington Jim realized the hot babe was smiling at him. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why, but eventually the thought occurred to him that maybe she was trying to get him to come up and sit in the empty chair she stood behind. Jim looked from the babe to the chair and back again about a dozen times before it dawned on him that she had been speaking to him the entire time. Without knowing exactly what she was saying, Jim finally stood from the plastic chair, dropped the Sports Illustrated magazine onto the table in front of him and stood to his feet. Somehow he managed to get his feet to actually move forward so he found himself sitting in the barber chair.
The Babe, as he now thought of her with a capital “B”, flipped the apron about his front and tied it just behind his neck. She made sure it was secure and not too snug and asked him what kind of hair cut he wanted. Jim sat mute and unblinking for several minutes before the words registered and he stuttered something about “short around the ears and off the neck and just a basic haircut if she didn’t mind.” The Babe proceeded to cut Jim’s hair exactly as he liked it and when she was finished he was surprised that he was able to get up from the chair and walk at all.
He managed – somehow – to withdraw ten dollars from his wallet and hand it over to the Babe. She smiled and thanked him for coming, which made him blush, because he hadn’t even realized his lustful interest in her hand been all that obvious, let alone that he had prematurely ejaculated while sitting in her chair, until it struck him that she meant for coming in for a haircut and then he blushed all over again just because he had been so damn stupid.
Two weeks passed before Jim decided his haircut, which he had been getting once a month ever since he’d been old enough to realize hair didn’t feel good hanging over his ears in the eighties cut, needed trimming once again. He walked on over to Tom’s Barber Shop and looked inside. The Babe was still behind the chair and was still cutting the hair of the men in this town and so he pushed the door open and walked inside, nodding his head to a few of the men already in there waiting for their hair cuts and saying hello to a few others he knew a bit better.
Jim sat down and picked up what he was surprised to discover was the latest Playboy magazine. He scanned the cover a bit before immediately flipping over to look at the centerfold page. He turned the magazine sideways, the way every man and boy did in order to scrutinize the centerfold properly, the only way it was meant to be looked at, and then began flipping through in order to look at all the other naked pictures of hot, young babes the magazine had to offer.
Before long Jim realized he was being spoken to and he looked up to see that the hot Babe behind the barber chair was asking him if he was there for a hair cut or just to ogle the naked babes in the Playboy magazine. Jim blushed and set the Playboy down before stepping over to sit in the chair.