My usual barbershop

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My usual barbershop was closed for the month, so I went to another one near campus. Lots of college and frat guys go there -- the girls went to a saloon a few doors down -- and their business was brisk. By the time I reached the shop, there were about twenty guys pushing in. Since it was a hot day, all the guys were packed inside the shop to escape the sweltering heat, and most of them had their shirts off or did not care to wear one.

The three barber seats were occupied, as were the six or so chairs for waiting; the rest of the guys were hanging around the chairs chatting with their friends, packed like sardines in the small shop. Most of the guys' shoulders were pressed against those of another's and some of their chests were so close that their nipples were in contact, but they didn't seem to mind. Several of them had their muscular arms wrapped around their buddies' thick necks or broad shoulders. Other than the loud and brash chatter, the place was also saturated in musk with so many sweaty, bare bodies; not a stink, but fresh sun-drenched sweat with a hint of chlorine. Someone must have come straight from the pool.

"Yo," a fresh-faced hunk called to me from a chair. I looked and recognised Arnold, a swimmer who swam for his Hall. So he must the one carrying the pool chlorine: the smell brought up visions of hunks in speedos, making my dick chub up a bit.

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"Hey," I called back. "How far are you in the queue?"

"I'm next," Arnold shouted over the din. He was wearing a low-cut tank top and carrying a small rucksack, and his white running shorts were dripping wet, no doubt from the pool. Underneath the shorts he went commando with a visible penis line -- either he swam in the shorts or he changed out of his speedos. Even when limp, his dick pushed out against the shorts.

"Next!" the burly barber called, hidden from view by the mountain of muscles and shorts. Arnold stood up. "That's my cue," he winked at me and whipped his tank top over his head, stuffing it into his rucksack. He was naked except for his white shorts, now see-through when wet, and a pair of flip flops. His sunburned shoulders and chest glistened with sweat and pool water. He plonked himself on the barber's chair.

"Cut high and tight, please," the standard cut for swimmers. The barber grunted and flapped the drape over Arnold's taut body, hiding it from view. However, his wet body meant that the cloth drape soaked up the water and stuck to his golden skin.

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"Ow!" Arnold jerked as the cloth drape dragged across his sensitive nipples. "Yo man, that's rough!"

"Well you didn't have to be wet for this," complained the barber. "You can either sit still while I drape you or you can do this without the cloth."

"I'll do without," Arnold was slightly miffed, but his fingers were massaging his nipples, now sore from the rough treatment. The barber grunted again and crumpled up the cloth, throwing it to the back of the shop. Arnold's hunky body was on display again, his large nipples now erect, his hands rubbing absently over the chafed nubs. His white shorts tented out a bit from the stimulation. The barber got to work buzzing his cut.

"Oof! Sorry," somebody said from behind me as another solid body of muscle entered the shop. Since I was wearing a tank, his bare chest did not touch my back, but I could feel a sizeable bulge wedge in between my ass cheeks. I half turned and saw a very cute shirtless guy, about five-six, built solidly like a gymnast with broad shoulders and a flared back tapering to a narrow waist. His height meant that his lips were mashed against my shoulders when the door closed behind him, and his nose accidentally nuzzled into my neck behind my ears. I felt him sniff a few times.

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"Oh heeeeey, that's the same cologne I use," he half-whispered, knowing we couldn't be heard above the din anyway. "I'm Drew." His hand came up between our bodies and I clasped the strong handhold. He lifted his other arm like he was reaching behind his neck. "See!"

His excitement was infectious and I smiled, turning fully to sniff at his hairy pit. Just then there was a shove from within the main mass of bodies and I was pushed right up against Drew, my face fully pressed into his armpit. A wave of healthy musk attacked my nose, followed by the smell of aforesaid cologne. I took the opportunity to bite at the tender skin and lick over it, getting a taste of fresh sweat. Drew moaned appreciatively, being as loud as he dared -- we were largely ignored as the ruckus got louder in the shop.

"Oh, uuuuhh, mygawd..." Drew lowered his huge arm wrapping it around my head, pulling my face deeper into his pit. I was in heaven, snuffling at his underam and continuing to lick and bite at his warm skin. We were locked in embrace for half a minute, while I slowly licked down his pectorals and started biting at his nipple.

"Next!" All three barber chairs vacated at the same time, letting loose three hunky surfers, one of whom was of course Arnold the swimmer.