Barbershop Quartet Four encounters with Barbers; Occasional singeing, definitely no singing. Gay Male - Encounters - Interracial
I have never understood those gay men who go to unisex hair salons and have their hair cut by a female. If someone is going to be touching me, breathing over me and standing with their genitals just inches from my face, I prefer that the hairdresser be a male. Over the years I have sought out old-fashioned men-only barbershops to enjoy a short time in the company of men, basking in the aromas of cologne, old spice, manly sweat and testosterone; occasionally making small talk or just enjoying the silence but for the sound of trimmers buzzing and scissors snipping. Turkish and Arab barbershops are my favourite. Here are four of my most memorable barbershop encounters that I have enjoyed:-
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- UK, London, Stoke Newington, Turkish, Mehmet.
I lived in London for a number of years, but mostly in the south of the city. Whenever I needed a haircut I usually headed north of the river to the Arab quarter on the Edgware Road where most of the barbers are Iraqi, Lebanese, Egyptian, or Syrian. When I had bit more time I would travel to a Turkish neighbourhood called Stoke Newington. There are dozens of male barbershops to choose from and I tried most of them. One place I chanced upon however became my favourite and I returned there many times. It was an old-fashioned place and I assume it was previously an old English barbershop from the 1960's and the current Turkish owners simply took over the business without needing to refit the shop. The mirrors were tarnished and rusted, it was dark and gloomy inside, and the chairs were large with well-worn green leather.
On my first visit the shop was busy with all four barber chairs in use and another eight or more young Turkish men waiting. It was going to be a long wait as Turkish barbers are always very thorough and never rush. Time passed quickly however as I had about 16 Turkish men to look at using various combinations of mirror reflections, and a cute young man appeared and took orders for teas and coffees which he collected from the café‚ next door. I sipped my Turkish coffee and pondered which of the four barbers I would most like to have to cut my hair by. One of them was 'movie-star' handsome, two were average looking, and one was definitely not handsome but had a rugged masculine quality. He was the tallest of the four with broad shoulders, wearing an old worn and faded shirt revealing the top of a hairy chest, and several days of chin stubble and very big hands. He looked more like a farmer than a barber. I decided he was my favourite.
I was by now third in line to be called so I observed the various stages of haircuts and speeds of the four different barbers and calculated that I was in with a good chance of getting the tall guy. It was a close call as one of the men in the chairs was older and asked for singeing of the ears where the barber uses a flame to burn unwanted hair in the ears; another man asked for a bit more to be trimmed, but then so did the man in what I hoped would be my chair. It was touch and go but five minutes later I was sitting down in the chair and the tall guy was fitting the cape around my neck. He didn't speak much English and asked me bluntly "how do you want?" I explained in simple terms and he seemed to understand. I made myself comfortable in the big old chair which had ample armrests. I asked his name and he replied "Mehmet." I was enjoying the haircut and the physical contact when his big hands positioned my head. I observed his hairy forearms and savoured his masculine smell. When he was working on the side of my head I became aware that he was pressing his groin onto my arm. I enjoyed the thought that there were only 4 layers of thin material separating the flesh of my arm from the flesh of his cock and I started to imagine that given his height and spade-like hands, he probably has a thick schlong of Turkish meat. He moved to the other side and it was the same again, he was pressing his cock against my arm as he cut my hair. I discreetly moved my upper arm back and forth very slightly. He must have noticed this as he responded by moving his hips slightly to the left and right. He was discreetly rubbing his cock against my arm. I glanced at his face via the mirror but he was looking only at my hair that he was cutting. He moved around to the front to cut my fringe and I became aware that his crotch was straddling the armrest. He then lowered himself slightly and the crotch of his trousers was now resting on the tops of my fingers on the armrest. I didn't know if he could detect that my fingers were there on the armrest hidden by the black cape. I wiggled my fingers slowly and gently and he responded by sliding his crotch forwards and backwards very slightly, slowly and discreetly so that no one else in the shop would see.
Still not quite believing that this was happening, while he was moving to the other side I deliberately moved my hand a few times under the cape to make sure he knew my hand was there on the armrest and not tucked away in my lap. I rested my hand back on the armrest but this time palm up. Again he straddled the armrest and slowly and discreetly sank his crotch down onto my caped hand on the armrest. I moved my fingertips more boldly this time, from side to side, and I detected the contour of his testicles through the thin material of the cape and his polyester trousers. He continued cutting my hair while sliding his crotch forwards and backwards very slightly. With my thumb I felt the tip of his cock which I sensed was starting to harden. Thankfully the black cape against his black trousers would make it very hard for anyone else in the shop to see any movement but I sensed that Mehmet didn't realise this and got nervous and backed off. We still did not make any eye contact and as I glanced down I could see a definite swelling in his trousers. He does seem to have a schlong. He finished cutting my hair and only when he placed the mirror to the back of my head to seek my approval for the cut, did we make eye contact again. I thanked him in Turkish "Teshekkur Ederim Mehmet", paid and gave him a generous tip and shook his hand and left.
I returned several times and each time waited for Mehmet to be free to cut my hair and we repeated the same scenario with him pressing his cock into my upper arms and then resting his crotch on my hands allowing me to discreetly fondle his balls and cock through the thin material of the nylon cape and his trousers. He always backed off if he became nervous that someone might see or when his cock started to harden. I went on different days and different times of day but the shop was invariably busy and could never get him on his own. I think it was probably on my sixth visit that I had written my telephone number on a scrap of paper and when I paid and tipped him I discreetly handed him the paper. I didn't believe for a moment that he would have the courage to call, especially as his English was not very good.
Three weeks later I received a call late one Sunday afternoon; "You like Turkish cock?" I guessed and hoped that it was him so I replied "yes." He continued; "This Mehmet, you want come tonight to salon? 10'o'clock" I wasn't keen on the idea of crossing London late on Sunday night but I thought for a moment and realised that this might be the only opportunity to get intimate with Mehmet so I said "yes!" He replied, "ok, meet 10'o'clock outside post office on corner near salon." I replied in simple language "ok, 10'o'clock, post office." As it would take me nearly an hour to get there I started to get ready. I douched and lubed hoping that he would want to fuck me, trimmed my pubic hair and shaved my arse before showering and dressing. I headed out the door to catch the first of two buses to get to Stoke Newington.
I arrived on time but he was a few minutes late. He arrived not from the direction of the salon as I was expecting but from the side street by the post office. We said "hello!" and I followed him back down the side street and then left along an alleyway that ran behind the parade of shops. We arrived at a gate and he said "this back of salon." I followed him through the gate and he unlocked a door and we were in the back room of the salon where they stored towels and supplies. It was dark but a little bit of light came through the security barred window, presumably from a nearby house. I could vaguely see a toilet in the corner with the door ajar. Mehmet locked the door through which we had entered, and checked that the door through to the salon was locked. He then undid his belt and trousers and let them fall to the floor. He was wearing baggy shorts and he slid these down and they fell to his ankles. He said "you like Turkish cock?" and I replied "yes, I do" and approached him and knelt down. My eyes were adjusting to the darkness and I could now see his cock for the first time. It was indeed very long while flaccid, about 7 inches long, circumcised, quite fat. I caressed it with my hands before taking it in my mouth and started to suck. I played with his pendulous balls which were surprisingly hairy, I felt around his cock and fingered his pubic hair. I had mistakenly assumed that all Muslim men shaved their pubic hair.
His cock quickly hardened in my mouth and I had to adjust my position to get higher as his cock pointed up the sky and had a nice slight upward curve to it. The width of the head was just slightly larger than the width of his shaft and I estimated it to be at least 9 inches long. I could barely close my hand around the shaft, it was so thick. I continued sucking and started to explore his body with my hands. His arse cheeks were nice and firm and hairy, his legs were very hairy and he had nice thick hair on his washboard abdomen and across his chest. I felt his firm pecs and played with his nipples. This obviously had some effect on his as he groaned when I tweaked his nipples and he grabbed the back of my head and pushed his cock further into my mouth.
He spoke, "you want fuck?" and I replied with a simple "yes." I stood up and removed my shirt and trousers remembering to take out the small sachet of lubricant from my pocket. I hadn't bothered to wear underwear. Mehmet fondled my arse cheeks with his spade-like hands. I bit open the sachet of lubricant and applied it to his cock, his fingers, and to my arsehole. He continued fondling my arse and teased my sphincter muscle with his fingertips before poking one of his thick fingers up my arse. I gave a quiet moan of appreciation and he proceeded to finger fuck me with one finger, then two, and then three. He withdrew his fingers and then shuffled into position and placed the head of his cock against my arsehole and pushed. I bent over and opened my sphincter muscle to let him in and his entire 9 inches plunged into me up to the hilt. I gasped with the intrusion, and the first few thrusts were quite painful and I let out a couple of squeals. This did not deter him any and he proceeded to fuck me quite hard. The pain soon turned to pleasure and the size and shape of his cock was massaging my prostate gland making my own cock throb. His forceful thrusting was throwing me off balance while I was bent over so I stood up and shuffled around slightly so that I could place my hands on the wall for support. This position made my arse cheeks softer and rounder and I could feel his hands feeling my cheeks as he fucked. He suddenly withdrew his cock and slapped my arse a couple of times before plunging his cock inside me again. I was enjoying every moment of this and started to masturbate my own cock anticipating that he would not last very long before coming. A few minutes later he was grasping my hips and picked up his speed and started thrusting harder until he grunted loudly while holding his cock in to the hilt shooting his Turkish seed 9 inches up my arsehole. I rubbed my own cock harder and a few seconds later I too shot my load. He withdrew his cock and without speaking shuffled over to the toilet and grabbed some toilet paper to wipe his cock. He raised his shorts and trousers slightly and walked over to the sink by the window and ran some water and washed his cock. I had brought my own tissue paper and rolled some up and shoved it up the crack of my arse to soak up any leakage on the bus journey home. I took a piss in the smelly toilet and got dressed. He also took a piss while I wiped up my cum from the wall and floor so as not to leave any evidence of our activity. There was no affection and he didn't even comment on our encounter nor say thank you. He spoke only to say "ok, let's go!" and after we left and he locked up he said goodbye to me on the corner by the post office.
I did go back to the salon for a haircut the following month but he was less tactile than previously. I assumed that he was straight and now possibly felt embarrassed or ashamed. I was taken completely by surprise when he telephoned me again a few weeks later and we met for a repeat session, again on a Sunday night in the back of the salon. The third time, he took me to a scruffy flat a few streets away which I presume he shared with several Turks who he said were all at the Turkish centre watching Galatasary football team on television. We had only two hours but this time we were both completely naked, were able to use his bed and fuck face-to-face with me on my back with legs in the air, and, for the first time, he kissed me and masturbated me to orgasm. Sadly, that was the last time we met. I returned to the salon a few weeks later for a haircut but he was not there, and when I asked after him, was told that he had gone to work in Manchester. --------------------------------------------
- India, New Delhi, 5 star hotel, Rajesh. While on company business in New Delhi my company booked me into one of the large 5 star hotels. It was rather dated, a bit dark and gloomy compared to modern builds, but it had lots of character and the facilities, service, and food were excellent. I was there for one month and all within the confines of the hotel, I had a hot fuck from one of the muscled gym coaches, enjoyed a very sensual and slippery hot-oil four-hands massage by two hairy masseurs, got fucked by two security guards, sucked off the concierge under his desk, not to mention a few conquests in the sauna with visiting airline crew. All that aside, this story is about my encounter in the little barbershop in the hotel.
There were several corridors off the main lobby with little gift shops, car rental, a few tour companies, a travel agent, a ladies hair salon, and a one- man barbershop. The barbershop was at the end of one of the quietest corridors, quiet because the tour company offices were open only for a couple of hours each day when they had tour groups in the hotel, and, at the end of the corridor was a conference facility which was rarely used with the doors kept locked.
I was in need of a haircut and went to have a look at the men's salon and check out the barber. I found it and met the barber who introduced himself as Rajesh. He was just locking up to go for lunch and said that he had a few appointments this afternoon but would be free between 4pm and 8pm and asked if I would like to make an appointment. I didn't want to commit myself to a time in case I decided to go out or find something else to do but said that I might return later to see if he was free. I went for a swim followed by a sauna which was unusually quiet so decided I would have an early dinner and try for a haircut afterwards. Rajesh had struck me as rather handsome and sexy with beautiful lips and seductive eyes.
I arrived at the salon at 7:30pm and Rajesh was alone and was obviously pleased to see me. He invited me to sit in the chair and discussed what type of haircut I wanted before he gently placed the cape over me and a fastened it around my neck. He offered me a drink which I declined but he persisted and I agreed to take a coffee. He picked up the phone and ordered a coffee to be delivered. He started cutting my hair and we chatted, my coffee arrived and the maid placed it on the coffee table by the large sofa. After it had cooled sufficiently he stopped cutting and passed me my coffee to drink and started to massage my neck and shoulders instead. I was enjoying the whole experience and couldn't help but look at Rajesh through the mirror. He caught me looking and smiled at me. I told him "you are very handsome Rajesh." "Thank you Saab" he replied, "and you are also very handsome English gentleman Saab." I finished my coffee and he resumed cutting my hair. He was very tactile and kept constant contact with a hand on my head even when he was reaching for a different trimmer blade or his comb and scissors. He didn't seem to be in a hurry even though it was now 8pm and it was closing time. An office clerk walked in to collect his day's takings and paperwork. He very politely asked if I would be paying by cash, card, or charge to my room. I confirmed the latter and he asked if I wouldn't mind signing now even though he had not quite finished. I obliged and signed the bill so that the clerk could take away the paperwork to bill my room and complete her end of day accounting. They both apologised for the interruption and she left. Rajesh added that security would stop by in a few minutes on his round after which we will not be disturbed again. I thought that an odd thing to say but did not question it.
He continued cutting my hair. I was enjoying his touch, especially when he pressed his groin against my arm or brushed his fly against my hand. He finally finished and was showing me the back of my head using his double-handed mirror when a security guard popped his head in through the door and waved and bid him goodnight. As soon as he had left, Rajesh closed and locked the door and pulled the blind down on the glass door. He came back to me and asked "would you like some more massage Saab?" I replied "yes please Rajesh" and he removed the cape, brushed away any loose hair and reclined my chair slightly and proceeded to give me a very relaxing head and shoulders massage. He then started to gently massage my face which felt very intimate, especially as we were two men alone in a locked room. I then sensed that he was pressing his groin into my upper arm again but this time I could feel the hardness of his cock. This made my cock start to harden and I started to touch myself through the fabric of my trousers. I anticipated that he might still be holding back as I am the client and he is the employee and if I were to turn this around and complain he could lose his job and his livelihood so I took the lead so that there was no doubt that I was willing to play. I turned my head around to face his bulging crotch and placed my hands on it and attempted to undo his zipper. His trousers were tight so he helped by undoing his top button to allow me to access his zipper and pull it down. It turned out that he was not wearing any underwear and his cock flopped out and nearly hit me in the eye. It was a beautiful cock with smooth dark skin, straight and perfectly proportioned, about 7 inches long.
I took his cock into my mouth and teased my tongue around his foreskin. I mostly prefer cut cocks but this one just looked, felt and tasted right. Meanwhile Rajesh was undoing my trousers and released my cock. As I was still sitting in the barber's chair with my neck craned to one side, I moved to get up out of the chair to be more comfortable. I asked Rajesh if we were safe here in the salon. He said that the door is locked and nobody could see in and that security would not bother us, but he also volunteered to switch off the light to make me feel more comfortable. I suggested we undress first as I wanted to see him naked. We undressed each other and I admired his beautiful body. Probably about 5'10" tall, broad shoulders, smooth chest but with hairy legs, well defined pecs, slim, a beautiful arse and a beautiful cock. His skin was dark and I suspect he was from the south of India. We embraced and kissed passionately for a few minutes before he led me to the sofa. He threw a few towels over the sofa in case we made a mess and he placed a bottle of oil on the coffee table and then he switched off the light. In the darkness he embraced me again and we kissed some more. Without the light I was more aware of the smoothness of his skin and of his exotic smell, a faint hint of curry spice mixed with eau de cologne. We made ourselves comfortable on the sofa and explored each other's bodies and sucked cocks. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw that a small amount of light from the corridor leaked through the door and blind which illuminated the contour of his beautiful dark-skinned buttocks. I am normally always bottom and prefer to be fucked, but I hoped that I would be able to plunge my cock into his gorgeous Indian arse.
We repositioned ourselves on the sofa so that I could rim his arsehole. I spent a good twenty minutes relaxing his sphincter muscle with my tongue before starting to insert my fingers and massage his prostate. This heightened his pleasure as he started to moan gently. I went back to kissing him and I asked "can I fuck you Rajesh?" He replied "yes please, but I want to taste your seed in my mouth." I assured him that I would pull out before coming and let him taste my cum. He knelt on the sofa and the faint stream of light from the corridor again illuminated his chiselled buttocks. I applied some oil to his hole and to my cock and penetrated him gently and started to fuck. The heat from inside his arse and the tightness of his sphincter muscle felt incredible and I had to slow down to avoid reaching orgasm too quickly. I wanted to kiss him so I withdrew and asked him to lie on his back on the sofa. He raised his legs automatically and I penetrated him again and fucked him slowly and gently while kissing him and fondled his muscular pecs and teased his nipples with my hands. Soon I was approaching orgasm and I withdrew my cock and helped him to sit up on the sofa and placed my hands around the back of his neck and he took my cock in his mouth and sucked. He also skilfully massaged my perineum and arsehole at the same time and within minutes I experienced an intense orgasm and shot my load into his mouth. I was literally shaking and my legs were like jelly. He helped me to lie down on the sofa and we embraced and kissed. I could taste my own cum in his mouth. He then said "and now I want to fuck you."
I oiled his cock for him and I applied oil to my arsehole. I was still lying on the sofa so I raised my legs and he kneeled and placed the head of his cock on my rosebud and pushed home. His cock was a comfortable size for me and I settled down to enjoy the fuck. His broad shoulders were silhouetted against the faint light from the door behind him. I fondled his pecs and nipples and he bent down and kissed me several times. After a few minutes he wanted to change position and he helped me off the sofa to my feet, turned me around and bent me over and he planted his cock inside me again. This time he started to fuck with more force and he was now hitting my prostate. He fucked me in this position for a good ten minutes or so before having me kneel on the sofa. He stood behind me and started plunging his cock in and out of my arse withdrawing his cock each time. For a seemingly gentle man, he was fucking me with brutish force and was really bashing my prostate hard which was turning me on. My cock was hard again and I was masturbating and moaning loudly. He changed position slightly which enabled me to raise my torso giving me better access to my cock and he was now fucking me with short deep thrusts while keeping his cock inside of me. When not grasping my hips he was squeezing my nipples and a couple of times he pulled me back so that we could kiss. I was getting close to a second orgasm and I think he was close too. Another few minutes of hard pounding and I was grunting loudly as I shot my second load over the towels on the sofa. My sphincter muscle must have contracted which sent him over the edge and he too gasped aloud and held his cock deep inside me as he filled my arse with spicy Indian cum. We embraced and kissed for a few minutes more before he whispered "sorry Saab, but I should get home, my wife will start to worry if I am too late." --------------------------------------------
- Tunisia, Bizerte, Bechir. I was travelling around Tunisia independently which was very cheap and easy to do using their excellent shared taxi system called 'louages.' I had travelled to most major towns, coastal resorts, attractions and sites of historical importance as well as spending time in a Sahara desert oasis in the far south of the country. I had enjoyed Arab sex in hammam's, on the beach, against a palm tree in the desert oasis, in hotel rooms, on the floor of a carpet shop in the souk, in the back of a taxi, on the castle ramparts of the medina in Sfax, and in the toilets of Tunis main railway station.
I travelled to the northernmost town of Bizerte to meet a friend of a friend. Bizerte is a pleasant town, clean and tidy with a definite French feel which contrasts greatly to the more Arabic coastal and sub-Saharan towns. Mohamed went to Leeds University with my old school friend Sarah. He must have changed considerably since Sarah knew him as he turned out to be a boring old fart! An accountant, married, two children, collects stamps and coins, with very little to say. Conversation was laboured. I was glad when we finished lunch and I declined his offer of dinner at home with his family saying that I had to get back to Tunis to meet some other friends at the airport who were flying in from the UK. I thanked him for lunch and bade him farewell.
Having arrived by louage, I thought I would take the train back to Tunis. I was walking along the Avenue Bourguiba towards the railway station when I spotted a tiny little hallaq (barbershop) with a very cute barber. I was in need of a haircut so I stepped in, exchanged greetings in Arabic and sat down. No other customers were waiting and he looked to be nearly finished with the elderly gentlemen in the chair. Common with the north of Tunisia, the walls were painted white and the woodwork a sky blue colour. There was only one barber's chair and only three small chairs for waiting. I calculated that it was actually a front room of a house and the door at the back of the shop presumably led to private quarters. The old man was finished and he stood up and we chatted briefly in French and my smattering of Arabic about the weather and my travels. He also usefully introduced me to the barber whose name is Bechir. He bade us farewell and left. Bechir invited me to sit in the chair and proceeded to fasten the cape around my neck. We chatted mostly in French with a little bit of Arabic and English while he cut my hair. He was a very pleasant young man and I felt very relaxed. He looked to be about 25, short, with fair skin, tight curly light brown hair and beautiful green eyes. In any country with a history of occupation and colonisation, there will always be some pleasant surprises as a result of mixing of cultures in previous generations. Typical of most Arabs however, he asked me if I was married, and when I replied "no", he asked if I had a girlfriend. Instead of replying with a simple 'no' I volunteered the following "no, no girlfriend, I don't like girls, I like men, I like Arab men, I like Arab cock." He didn't respond to this but I could see from his face that he was digesting this information. He continued cutting my hair in silence until this was broken by a visiting knife sharpener on a bicycle. Bechir passed him a couple of pairs of scissors to be sharpened and the man sharpened them on a crude pedal operated grindstone on the back of his bicycle. These were returned and Bechir passed him the scissors that he had been using on my hair. When they were sharpened Bechir passed him a couple of coins and he went away. Bechir apologised for the interruption and I told him that it was fine as I was in no hurry to which he replied "when I finish I will make tea." I smiled at him through the mirror and he flashed me a beautiful smile in return.
The haircut was finished and no other customers had arrived. Bechir closed and locked the salon door and turned the sign from ouvert to fermé‚ and led me through the back door which led into what I would call a bedsit. There was a single bed, an armchair, a small kitchenette and another door with an old- fashioned porcelain tile stating 'salle de bains' (bathroom). He filled a kettle and placed it on the stove. While waiting for the tea I paid him for the haircut and I passed him a 20 dinar bill which was more than enough. He went to get change and said "Maalesh, Laisse tombé‚!" (Don't worry, I don't need change). He bowed his head in thanks and made the tea. I sensed that he was starting to feel nervous and flustered and I suspect that he was over-thinking what we might discuss or what, if anything, might happen. He passed me a glass of tea and I gave him a gentle smile. I was starting to form the impression that he is probably a virgin and never had any kind of sexual contact with anyone. Whether he is gay or straight was impossible to tell at this stage, he possibly wouldn't even know himself. It was quite possible that he could be totally heterosexual but now thinking that my declaration of sexual preference had presented an opportunity for him to have a sexual experience, albeit with the wrong gender. What happened next took me by surprise. He started to visibly shake and tears welled up in his eyes as he started to cry. I took the tea from his hand and put mine down and took him in my arms and held him.
His crying subsided and I wiped away his tears with my thumb and gave him a smile. He held my gaze and we leaned in towards each other and kissed, starting with gentle brushing of the lips and finishing with a full blown passionate kiss that we held until our tea had cooled considerably. To cut a long story short, we moved to the bed and kissed and chatted for hours. I ended up spending the night and we enjoyed hours of exploring each other's bodies and sucking cock. He had a beautiful 7 inch cut cock and I sucked him to orgasm a total of 4 times. He enjoyed learning how to suck my cock and I came twice. We fell asleep in each other's arms and made love again on waking. We bathed together and he made coffee and breakfast. He said the salon would be busy in the morning but that he could close in the afternoon. I agreed to stay for another day and went shopping while he worked and bought him a few things for his humble little home and salon and some new clothes. The following night he asked about fucking so I taught him about rimming, lubrication, different positions and techniques. I let him fuck me first and then I fucked him very slowly and gently as it was his first time. We spent most of the night with his cock up my arse in every conceivable position. The following morning I got to fuck him a second time. I stayed two more days and nights but finally had to say goodbye as my time in Tunisia was running out before my flight home. It was an emotional goodbye and I knew it was unlikely that I would return to Bizerte or see him again. At least Bechir was no longer a virgin and was better able to understand his own sexual orientation. I finally caught the train to Tunis that I had set out to catch 4 days earlier, but it was busy morning commuter service and I very nearly bumped into boring Mohamed on the platform. Thankfully I spotted him before he saw me and I moved down the platform to board a different carriage to avoid having to talk to him. --------------------------------------------
- Ghana, Tamale, Alhaji, Kofi, Fadi, and a few others. Backpacking in my younger days around the beautiful country of Ghana in West Africa gave me my first taste of African Muslim gangbanging and it all started in a little local barbershop in the back streets of Tamale in the Muslim north of the country.
Tamale is an unattractive dust-swept town on a plain in the Sahel, the savannah lands between the Sahara desert and lush green rainforests to the south. There is absolutely no reason to visit Tamale other than as a stopping off point en- route to the more interesting places of Bolgatanga, Navrongo, Wa, Larabanga, the Gbele and Mol‚ game reserves, and to see the hippo's in the Black Volta river. No doubt transportation has improved a hundredfold since I was there when buses were rickety old boneshakers, reminiscent of old American school buses, with open windows and noisy diesel engines pouring out black smoke. Mini-buses, called tro-tro's designed for 7 passengers would carry 14; in rural areas it was not uncommon to see trucks being used for public transport carrying dozens of people in the back. Horses were rare, but I did see a few donkeys and camels in the north. The big buses operated by the STC bus company were always filled beyond capacity with people on jump seats, standing, or sometimes riding on the roof. Invariably there were screaming babies and live chickens in bags or crates. Travelling around in such crowded conditions I often had my arse surreptitiously fondled and I got to 'accidentally' feel a few unbelievably long cocks through the thin material of their kaftans.
Anyway! back to Tamale; unsurprisingly the old bus I was travelling on towards Tamale had broken down meaning that I arrived into Tamale too late to make a connection to the north so I went off in search of a cheap hotel. After a refreshing shower I went out and filled up on fufu and jollof rice. I had a walk around town to stretch my legs and I stumbled upon a little barbershop that was still very busy at 9pm. It was a rickety old wooden building, brightly lit with a precariously hanging fluorescent tube and 2 barber chairs and a dozen or so young men all busy chatting above the noise of a radio.
I walked in and greeted everyone with an "Assalaamu-alaykum" and an "Etisayn" (Twi) and "Sannu" (Hausa) for good measure. Their conversation immediately stopped at the surprise of a tourist invading their space and I felt all eyes burning into me. I addressed the barbers and asked if I could have a haircut gesturing with two scissoring fingers at the same time. They both nodded and one managed to speak saying "yes, yes, welcome!" As I had stopped the conversation I took the opportunity to shake the hands of, and to introduce myself to everyone in the shop. A few people were standing, but those sitting down squeezed together and made room for me to sit down and we started chatting. English is the official language of Ghana and is taught in schools so language was not a problem. They asked questions about me, about England, my travels around Ghana. I threw in a few words of Twi and Hausa which they appreciated along with references to fufu, banku, kenke, jollof, and red-red, all popular dishes in Ghana. I faked an interest in football and mentioned Hearts, Kotoko, and Savana Stars and this kick-started multiple conversations which brought the ambience and noise level back to what it was before I walked in. I had been 'accepted.' I was handed a bottle of 'club' beer which I gratefully accepted. I noticed there was a beer fridge in the opposite corner and several of the men were drinking beer. Although northern Ghana is predominantly Muslim, they are very liberal and freely drink beer. Both men sitting either side of me, Alhaji and Kofi, were probably in their late 20's and big, strong, tall, slim and muscular guys with big hands. In the cramped quarters of this little barbershop we were sitting wedged in together and I could feel the heat of their bodies. They were both quite tactile and occasionally and casually placed a hand on my knee or on my back. I observed the barbers as they worked quickly on each customer, they all seemed to have a number 1 trimmer cut which took just a few minutes followed by a little razor blade trimming around the edges. Within minutes we were shuffling around and people went to the chair in turn. Each time, they offered me, as 'guest of honour' to take the chair but I declined, happy to wait and enjoy the conversation and body contact with these tall and handsome African men. During the shuffling, Kofi to my right, had need to stand several times to allow people to move around the very tight space of the waiting area. Through the thin material of his beige coloured kaftan I observed, just inches from my face, that he had a very large cock that was starting to harden and 'tent' his kaftan. Alhaji must have seen me looking as he whispered in my ear "you want to see big African cock?" Hearing this and feeling his ample lips brush against my ear caused my own cock to stir. I nodded affirmatively and he stroked my back.
Alhaji was next in the chair and I engaged in conversation with Kofi. I reciprocated some of the tactility and casually touched his back with my hand or placed it on his thigh. As we chatted sitting next to each other I observed Alhaji in the barber's chair. At one point he turned around and gave me a wink and a smile. The barber too, I had failed to mention, was very handsome, not as tall as the others, and quite heavy and chunky, his name I learned was Fadi. Many of those who had already had their hair cut had not left, and many more men arrived and were standing around chatting and drinking beer. This was not simply a place to get a haircut, but also a bar and a social hub. Kofi was next in the chair, no one seemed to notice or think it unusual that he obviously had a semi-erection tenting his kaftan. Alhaji came and sat next to me again and took a slug of his beer and placed his wet lips to my ear and whispered "afterwards, we go to my house and drink more beer, will you come?" I asked him "how far away?" and told him the name of my hotel. He said "only 5 minutes from your hotel, I walk you back." I accepted. I was next in the chair with Fadi, he had a strong, masculine smell of sweat which was pleasantly intoxicating. Through the crude broken mirror and out of the corner of my eyes I observed that several people were watching. I don't think they had seen a white man have his hair cut before and I think Fadi was at a loss as to what to do. I quickly told him, number 2 trimmer back and sides. Leave long on the top. I also saw Alhaji hand over money to the other barber and pick up a crate of beer. My haircut was finished and I paid Fadi. As I stood out of the chair he whispered in my ear "see you later."
I left with Alhaji, Kofi, and three others. We stopped at a convenience store to buy bags of ice to cool the beer and Alhaji bought another case of beer. I picked up a few bags of crisps and nuts and a small bottle of coconut oil. Alhaji volunteered to pay for those too but I insisted and handed over my money to the shopkeeper.
We arrived at Alhaji's house which was a humble concrete dwelling, but comfortably furnished. Cold beers were taken out of the fridge, more beer placed on ice, music was put on, packets of crisps and nuts opened, and Alhaji put some other snacks out on the table. Someone else started to cook rice and plantain. There were two large 3-seater sofas and several armchairs. Alhaji told me that the house belongs to his father who is a mining engineer and working away in South Africa. I asked for the toilet and went to pee and apply some coconut oil to my arsehole. I went back to the lounge and two more men had arrived that I didn't recognise from the barbershop so assumed they were friends or neighbours. I sat next to Kofi on the sofa and just as I was sitting he must have slipped his hand underneath so I ended up sitting on the palm of his hand and he started to work his finger into the crack of my arse. Another two men arrived that I did recognise from the barbershop, they were carrying two bottles of whisky. We drank beer and whisky and chatted and I observed several of the men including Alhaji were playing 'pocket billiards' fondling their cocks through the material of their kaftans or via the side pocket with their hand underneath. I got up to go for a pee, I noticed the clock on the wall, it was 10:30pm. As I left the bathroom Alhaji was waiting for me at the door to his bedroom and gently pulled me in. He closed the door, but not fully, and embraced and kissed me.
He helped me to undress and he slipped off his kaftan over his head and threw it on a chair. He must have previously removed his shorts as he was instantly naked. At over 6ft tall he towered above me. I admired his broad shoulders and well defined pecs, washboard stomach, and beautiful ebony skin. His cock, already fully hard, looked to be about 11 inches long, fatter than a beer can, and with a downward curve. This was going to be a painful fuck and I wished I could have started with a smaller cock, my prayers would soon be answered however. I sank to my knees and took his cock in my mouth and started to suck. One small consolation was that he had a pointed tip which would make entry a little easier. Downward curved cocks are the only ones I can comfortably and successfully deep throat and after a few minutes of sucking I was able to relax my throat sufficiently to swallow his entire 11 inches. As my nose brushed his wiry pubic hair he exclaimed "wow!" At the same time the door opened and in walked Kofi. He closed the door fully and slipped off his Kaftan, he too was not wearing shorts. He stood next to Alhaji and I started to suck them alternately. Kofi's cock was smaller and thinner, but small by Saharan standards means about 8 inches and still quite thick. Kofi's cock was straight, with a larger head and nicely proportioned. I was able to deep throat him too and I think this was a new experience for them both. As I looked up I was surprised to see them kissing passionately. They are obviously very close friends or possibly even lovers I thought to myself.
They helped me to my feet and I enjoyed some 3-way kissing with them while they both fondled my arse poking fingers up my arsehole. I broke away to grab my little bottle of coconut oil that I had just bought. We moved onto the double bed and Kofi and I assumed a 69 position and sucked each other's cocks while Alhaji was expertly kissing and rimming my arsehole, relaxing my sphincter with his tongue. We changed position slightly so that Kofi was lying on the bed underneath me. Alhaji oiled Kofi's cock and guided me to sit on it. I started bouncing up and down on Kofi's cock while Alhaji moved around and placed his cock to Kofi's mouth. The sight of these two beautiful black men being intimate with each other and with Kofi's cock massaging my prostate as I bounced up and down on it soon sent me over the edge and I shot my load all over Kofi's chest, the white cum contrasted against his ebony skin. Alhaji bent down and licked up all of my cum and then kissed Kofi sharing my cum between them. Kofi then lifted himself up with me still sitting on his cock, kissed me, and I could taste my own cum on his tongue. With Alhaji's help they positioned me on my back without removing Kofi's cock. Alhaji stood at the foot of the bed, held my legs back and bent his knees to lower his cock into my mouth. Kofi started to fuck me, slowly and gently at first but soon picking up speed and force until he grunted very loudly, so loudly that there was a reactionary cheer from the others in the lounge. Kofi had shot his load deep in my arse.
Now it was Alhaji's turn and as Kofi withdrew he kneeled into place on the bed. Kofi oiled his cock for him while kissing him and helped by guiding Alhaji's cock to my hole. Despite having just been fucked and the copious amount of coconut oil for lubrication it was painful adjusting to his incredible girth but he was slow and considerate and didn't attempt to get his whole 11 inches in too soon. Kofi moved around, sometimes watching Alhaji's massive cock plundering my white arsehole, kissing me or kissing Alhaji, playing with my nipples and my cock, and dipping his now flaccid cock in my mouth. Alhaji started increasing his thrust and force until his entire 11 inches was impaling my arse. It was both painful and pleasurable as the downward curve of his cock was giving my prostate a thorough pounding. I asked if we could change position and he withdrew his cock. I went onto my knees and he re-entered from behind. This position was slightly more comfortable at the beginning but as he started to thrust very hard I started to grunt and squeal. The sensation is hard to explain, but beyond the pain, it felt wonderful having such a big fat black cock filling my guts. My squealing got louder and there was more cheer and laughter of acknowledgment coming from the lounge. Alhaji continued pounding relentlessly and I felt as though he totally owned my body and I had no power to move or resist. A few more thrusts and he was grunting loudly as he reached orgasm and shot his seed 11 inches deep inside my arse. He withdrew his cock and my arse felt empty. My hole must have been wide open and they both looked at it and smiled and poked their fingers inside. Kofi thoughtfully poured some more coconut oil inside my arse while it was open. They both kissed me and reached for their kaftans and dressed. They asked if I would like some more cock and I replied "yes please, and could I have another beer please?" They smiled and replied "of course." They exited and wedged the door wide open, "just call us if you need us."
I lay face down on the bed exposing my arse to the open door waiting for the next big black cock to fuck my arse. I didn't have to wait long as the next man arrived clutching two bottles of beer and he passed me one. He sat on the bed and fondled my buttocks while downing his beer. He let out a loud belch and there was another cheer from the lounge. He lifted off his kaftan and slid down his shorts to reveal a handsome cock about 9 inches long with a slight upward curve and an oversized mushroom head. I asked him if I could suck it and he kneeled into position and stuck his cock in my mouth. It was far too wide to be able to deep throat it and I gagged a few times as his cock hit the back of my throat. He started to slap my arse cheeks and there was more cheer and laughter from the lounge. I started to realise that this was part of the game, to impress their friends with noises of conquest. He withdrew his cock from my mouth. I reached for my oil and oiled his cock as it was so wide and would stretch me even more than Alhaji did. He pushed the head of his cock to my hole and started to push, because of the sheer size of his mushroom head I had to focus to relax and push back to let him in. He entered me forcefully to the hilt and I yelped out in pain. Sure enough there was another cheer from the lounge. He started to fuck me brutally making a slapping sound against my arse cheeks with every thrust. His cock filled my arse wonderfully and his mushroom head was pounding my prostate and I sensed I was approaching another orgasm. Unfortunately he came first with very loud grunting and more cheers from the lounge. He withdrew his cock and slapped my arse a few times. This set the scene for the remainder of the evening. It was all about noise, showing off, and forceful fucking. We hadn't even spoken and he grabbed his clothes and walked out, dumping his clothes on the floor as he went into the bathroom to wash. Many Muslim men are compelled to wash immediately after sexual contact.
The next man arrived within seconds, this one seemed to be older, and I don't think I had met him yet. He slipped off his kaftan and slid down his shorts. He was shorter and had a bit of a belly and quite hairy and a very fat cock which he shoved in my mouth and started to slap my arse. More cheers from the lounge. His cock was oozing precum and was soon fully hard. He took my arm and pulled me from the bed and led me out of the bedroom into the corridor and turned me around and placed my hands on the wall and he slapped my arse again before shoving his fat cock up my arse in full view of the others in the lounge. This man was a complete show off. I felt a complete slut being brutally fucked with an audience. He fucked for about five minutes in this position before lifting my hands off the wall and pushed me down so that I was touching my toes. He grasped my hips and continued fucking with great force. I turned my head to see my audience a few yards away in the lounge watching with lust and fascination while fondling their cocks under or through their kaftans. My fucker came a few minutes later making ridiculously noisy grunts, obviously overacting, I was not impressed, but the audience cheered him. He withdrew his cock and slapped my arse a couple of times and led me back into the bedroom. Surprisingly, in the privacy of the bedroom he planted a kiss on my lips and thanked me. He picked up his kaftan and exited for the bathroom.
I made myself comfortable on the bed again lying face down exposing my arse to the open door and waited for the next assault. Three young men arrived together, I recognised two of them from the barbershop, they were all in their late teens or early twenties I guessed. They all stripped off revealing their already erect cocks, all between 8-9 inches long of varying shapes and widths. One of them immediately climbed on top of me and pushed his cock into my arse and started fucking. I beckoned for the other two to kneel in front of me so that I could suck their cocks. They had very sweet tasting cocks but after a few minutes they withdrew and backed off. I guessed they would all have a short fuse and were going to come very quickly and sure enough the young guy fucking me grunted and shot his load up my arse. He withdrew and one of the others took his place and started fucking me. I heard cheers at the door and looked around and saw that we now had an audience in the bedroom. A couple of them undressed and started playing with their cocks. The guy fucking me grunted and withdrew his cock and showered his cum all over my back. The whole room cheered. The third guy moved into position and lifted me up to my knees and entered me and started fucking. The other two naked guys moved onto the bed and presented their cocks for me to suck, one of them had a 10 inch long but quite thin cock and I was able to deep throat this with more cheers from the audience.
I lost count of how many cocks fucked my arse, it was one after the other in rapid succession. Alhaji and Kofi popped in occasionally to check on me and brought me another beer. Fadi, who had cut my hair made an appearance and fucked me hard for a quite a long time. Some of the men came back for seconds and fucked me for longer, my arse must have been wide open and really sloppy and I had no control over my sphincter muscle. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and cum. Alhaji returned and fucked me again for a very long time before sticking his cock down my throat to shoot his load. I could sense his cock deep in my throat throb with each spurt as he ejaculated down my gullet. After he withdrew there was no one else waiting. I was exhausted and flopped on the bed. Cum was oozing out of my arsehole. I asked Alhaji the time and he went to look at the clock and came back and said 2:30am. I had been fucked more or less continuously by more than 20 big black African cocks for 4 hours!
Alhaji helped me to the bathroom so that I could toilet and shower. The shower revived me somewhat but my legs were still quite wobbly. There was no towel but as I exited the bathroom dripping wet, Alhaji, who was changing the bed linen, quickly found a towel and wrapped it around me and led me to the lounge and sat me down on a chair. Both sofas had someone sleeping on them and empty beer bottles, full ashtrays, and remains of snacks littered the room. I asked after Kofi and he said he would be back very soon. Alhaji suggested that I sleep here rather than going back to the hotel. I agreed that was a good idea as my legs were still weak and I wasn't sure if it would be a problem to get into the hotel at this hour. He brought me a glass of water which I sipped while he cleared away the beer bottles and ashtrays and dirty plates. He came and sat on the armrest and tousled my hair and asked if I was ready to sleep. I nodded yes and he helped me up, turned off the lights and led me to the bedroom. Thankfully there was a breeze and the air in the bedroom was now fresh. We lay on the bed and he pulled the covers over us and we hugged and kissed. I heard a moped pull up and switch off. Alhaji simply said "Kofi is home." I asked Alhaji "are you and Kofi lovers?" He replied "yes, for many years, since we were at school together, but it is difficult here, we have to be careful and not tell too many people, they don't understand."
Kofi arrived in the bedroom and joined us in bed and we kissed and caressed and chatted for a while longer. I was sandwiched between these beautiful ebony lovers. As I was falling asleep, I thought to myself, how lucky that my bus broke down and that I found this barbershop and decided to go for a haircut. End.
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