Mansploitation

The Whiteboy in the Barbershop: Chapter 1

Cullen knew working at a Cityside Barbershop would be difficult. He didn’t fit in here. The Cityside Barbershop was for black men to get their hair cut. It was an unspoken rule as rigid as any law. There was a different barbershop right down the street, a well-lit place where the barbers were Italian. That was where white people went.
But they weren’t hiring, and Cullen needed a job now. He had applied thinking it wouldn’t go anywhere, but now here he was, starting his first day at a Cityside Barbershop. He didn’t even think they hired white people. Now that he thought about it, that didn’t make sense and probably wouldn’t have been legal. He was going to be the token white guy, he figured, he could handle that.
Then, on his first day, Cullen was almost totally ignored, except for the suspicious glances. He only cut two people’s hair that first day. He barely made a dime in tips.
It wasn’t until his second day, near the end of the afternoon, before he had a real conversation with anyone there. Cullen sat in his chair playing on his phone. He had resigned himself to not getting any more clients today, since it was only a few minutes before closing time. He deliberately made his workstation messy because he thought it would be embarrassing if he was ready to go literally the moment the clock ticked over.
Four minutes before close, a man named Lamont Caddie sauntered in. Everybody knew him, everyone except Cullen. Lamont was a grizzled, deep-dimpled homeboy who carried a dour expression on his face and short braids on his head. Cullen stood up and smiled at him.
“Hey, I can take you in my chair.” Cullen blushed, he hadn’t meant for that to sound like a seduction. “If you need your braids-?”
Lamont scoffed. “What?”
“Uh-“
“You a barber here?”
Cullen nodded.
Lamont scoffed again. “What? They hire white guys now?” He laughed to himself. He touched his short braids — no need for any attention right now. Lamont looked around the barbershop. “Nah, whiteman. I do not want a haircut. I don’t let white folk touch my hair. I ain’t here for a haircut anyway.” He made eye contact with one of the other barbers, Skelton, who nodded at him. They went into the backroom,
Was Skelton jacking him off? The Cityside Barbershop had a reputation as a place for men to swing on the downlow. But Skelton was an alpha male and an ex-con. It seemed unlikely he was on the downlow with the thickbody Lamont. That was something Cullen enjoyed, so he was annoyed if Skelton did it — the one bright part of working at a Cityside Barbershop was getting to service all the alpha males who come through. Cullen was prettier and more feminine than Skelton, he thought with a jealous bite, so why would Lamont want Skelton over him? He frowned at the door to the backroom.
They came back upfront after only two minutes, which was quicker than Cullen thought plausible. It was only when Skelton walked past Cullen’s chair and he caught a fruity whiff of unsmoked marijuana that Cullen realized what this was —that was a drug deal.
That made him feel better about being excluded.
“Thanks, nigga,” Skelton said.
Lamont snorted. “I-” He stopped because the front door opened and the owner, Johnny Cee, strode in. Lamont stopped short. Johnny Cee glared at him. He was broad-shouldered and powerful, with a mustache that made Cullen drool.
But he was both straight and married, and he didn’t seem like the type to fool around.
“Lamont.” Johnny Cee grunted. He was stern, strict, no-nonsense. It was clear he disliked Lamont and seemed to be aware of why he had come here, or at least he suspected it. Lamont had short braids, so he couldn’t pretend he had come in for a haircut. Johnny Cee stared him down. “I know you didn’t come in here to sling drugs, Lamont.”
“No, I ain’t.”
Johnny Cee looked from barber to barber. They all avoided eye contact with him. Skelton cleaned up his station. He was nonchalant, as though this had nothing to do with him. He slipped a baggie of weed into the drawer of his workstation, his legerdemain ensuring only Cullen noticed because only Cullen was watching Skelton. He glanced up to be sure Johnny Cee hadn’t noticed. But the big man with the bull mustache stared into Lamont’s eyes, while Lamont pretended nothing was happening.
“So why did you come in here?”
Lamont smiled and touched his hair on his scalp, he scratched it absent-mindedly, though it was obvious he was lightbulbing up an excuse to be here. “Oh, you know…” He sniffled. “I was just…”
“He wanted to try out the new boy’s mouth,” Skelton blurted out with a mischievous grin, aimed at Lamont. Lamont shot him an annoyed look. Skelton snickered.
“Oh? Is that true, Lamont?”
Lamont nodded. “Yep. I just…” He rolled his eyes like he didn’t want to say anything else, but then he added, “y’know… I like’, y’know… I like gettin’ dome. I do that shit all the time, man. ‘Specially whiteboys. I love that.”
Johnny Cee looked dubious. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Well…?”
“Fine.” Lamont snarled. He grabbed Cullen by the wrist and dragged him into the backroom. Cullen stumbled after him. This had all happened so fast, and Cullen didn’t know the people very well, that he only realized what was going on when he got to the back room. Once the door slammed shut behind him, Lamont feinted as though he was going to knock the door down and attack Johnny Cee on the other side. “He’s such a cock, man. You wanna jerk me off fo’ real?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Cullen said. He sunk to his knees, fingers sliding up Lamont’s sagging jeans to his crotch. He had a big bulge, very nearly visible because his pants were so low that the bulge of his cockroot was visible through his drawers, not his jeans.
Lamont grunted to cover up his sudden flood of anxiety. He had never done it quite like this — he’d gotten dome from men when he was drunk and as part of a group sex thing also involving at least one girl. He had never soberly stood there and let a man go to town on him, so he wasn’t entirely sure what to do or where to put his hands. If it was a girl, he would say sweet and romantic things in this sort of situation.
So he didn’t say anything.
He just gripped the wall to his side and held on for support, while Cullen pulled his dick out and swallowed it down. At first it was just warm and wet and not very appealing. Lamont wondered if he was going to have to tell Cullen he didn’t want to go through with it. That would be embarrassing, he thought.
But then his cock firmed up in Cullen’s mouth, and that warm wetness turned into a deep and abiding sense of pleasure. Soon his dick was rock-hard and throbbing on Cullen’s tongue, and Lamont had to bite back a moan.
“Ah, shit man, I’m glad Johnny Cee showed up after all,” Lamont said with a chuckle. He leaned against the wall, looking down for the first time since this had started. He watched his cock disappear down Cullen’s throat. He deep-throated better than any girl Lamont had ever been with, a fact that Lamont found alarming and that he would never share with anyone.
He grunted and gripped Cullen’s head. Since he had been holding his shirt up, once he let go to hold onto Cullen by the scalp, his shirt-tail landed on Cullen’s head. Cullen buried his face in Lamont’s hairy crotch, while Lamont held onto his scalp and plowed his throat good.
See, now, this is nice, Lamont thought, girls never wanted to get throated.
He relentlessly pounded away, forcing his cock all the way in with each thrust of his hips. When his orgasm finally erupted within him, Lamont moaned loud enough to spark a torrent of laughter from the frontroom.
“Ooh-ooh!”
“They’s bakin’ a black-and-white cookie back there!”
“Ooh, Cullen I love how your huge white cock feels in my ass!”
They were all teasing him now. Obviously, Cullen thought as he savored the zesty musk of Lamont’s cock, Lamont didn’t normally do this. They thought it was hilarious he was doing it now.
Cum sprayed down Cullen’s throat. He loved the taste of jizz, and Lamont’s was especially nice. It was salty and sweet and fruity, and Cullen guzzled down every drop. Fat bursts of it coated Cullen’s mouth.
It kept on going, long after Cullen thought a normal man would have shot his wad. He spewed so much it filled Cullen’s belly, coating his insides, Lamont’s body-warmth seeping throughout him. He shot so much it dripped down his thigh into a puddle on the floor of the barbershop backroom.
“Hell yeah…” Lamont groaned. He gripped the wall behind himself as he finished. His cock slowly limpened in Cullen’s mouth. He looked on at Cullen with wide-eyed amazement. “I ain’t never got no dome like that.”
“Thanks for the dick,” Cullen said with a giggle as he wiped his mouth off. “I’d like to buy some weed too.”

The Whiteboy in the Barbershop: Chapter 2

Cullen showed up early one morning. He was there before opening, and he used his key for the first time to get into the barbershop. It was nice to be there alone. He was beginning to feel at home here — it had been three weeks since he started — and it was good to be here with no one else. He could look around and see things without wondering who was watching him. There wasn’t a lot to look at, it was just nice to see it in this liminal, unfiltered way, like seeing a supermodel in her granny panties sans makeup.
He sighed and sat down on his barber’s chair. He was starting to get some customers. He had cut a couple of peoples’ hair — mostly children and elderly — and hadn’t made any mistakes, so he now had a reputation for being at least passable as a barber.
Realistically though, he was never going to be seen as an equal of the other barbers here. He was going to have to accept that.
There was a noise in the back. A mouse? That was what Cullen assumed. He went back there to see it. At his last barbershop, a mischief of mice had gotten into the barbicide, then died in the walls, resulting in a horrific smell that took months to resolve.
So he thought it would be good if he could find the mice first and tell Johnny Cee. He wanted to seem proactive and useful to the business. A lot of these small businessmen owned a bunch of projects, so maybe, Cullen thought, he could transfer somewhere a white worker was more commonplace. When he went into the backroom to check, however, there was no mouse.
There was a naked man named Dumphry, who gasped and furrowed his brow at Cullen. For a brief moment, Dumphry considered snapping Cullen’s neck. Cullen would never in his life learn how close he came to dying right then and there.
Dumphry didn’t do it because — aside from all the moral considerations — he couldn’t get rid of the body. There was no way to sneak an entire corpse out of this building without being seen by dozens of people.
So Dumphry just snarled and duked up. Dumphry was a thug fresh out of lockup. He was scared he’d get in trouble because he wasn’t allowed to be homeless — he only got parole because he supposedly had a job and a place to live, but Johnny Cee had only given him the job (which involved menacing and intimidating Johnny Cee’s business rivals and was paid entirely under-the-table).
He didn’t cover his cock with his hand. If he hadn’t been so utterly surprised by Cullen’s arrival, Dumphry would have, but by the time he realized Cullen was standing right there, his cock was already swinging in the scene. He wasn’t ashamed of it. Covering himself up with a hand at this point would make him look weak, he thought, so he stood there puffing out his chest and trying to look like he had meant to be caught naked in here.
“Oh. Who are you?” Cullen bit his lip. He blushed, heart racing. Was he not supposed to be here this early? No one had said not to, and they gave him a key so he could get in.
“I’m Dumphry. Who are you?”
“I’m Cullen. I work here,” Cullen said. He knew he should be firm with this man, to tell him to leave and make sure he does it. He assumed Dumphry was homeless and that he had snuck in here to sleep. But Cullen was also mesmerized by Dumphry’s prison-toned body and his massive dick dangling between his legs.
“Oh.”
“You, uh… You’re not allowed to be here,” Cullen said. He sounded so weak he blushed. He should just leave, he thought, go call Johnny Cee and let him handle this.
But he was still entranced by Dumphry’s body. Cullen couldn’t help but giggle demurely.
Dumphry grunted. He didn’t think he was supposed to let on that he lived here. Johnny Cee made him keep most of his things in the locked closet during the day, when Dumphry was gone — Johnny Cee kept him busy doing errands all day, and then he spent most of his evenings flanking Johnny Cee or beating people up at his command. His fists were bloody still from beating up one young man last night.
“Don’t tell no one I sleep here,” Dumphry said. “I just got outta the joint, man, I need a place to live.”
“So you’re squatting here?”
Dumphry nodded his head. When he was in prison, he kept telling himself he wouldn’t be trashy when he came out. He was off drugs now, and he didn’t even drink. He shouldn’t be squatting, living in a closet, working every day to afford enough food to eat.
“Oh. Well you can’t stay.”
Click grumbled. “I’ll ram ya, boy,” he said. “What?”
“If you don’t tell no one, I’ll ram ya butthole, boy,” Dumphry said.
Cullen’s heart raced. He couldn’t believe this. A part of him, the rational part of his mind, said to refuse it, but that wasn’t the part of him that was in control. His dick rocketed to attention even before Dumphry got to him and shoved him to his knees.
He rammed his cock into Cullen’s throat as though he needed to get it in before Cullen changed his mind. He had a big dick that stank of his sweat and a little of blood from the punishment he had doled out last night. It was warm and salty and soft, then it almost immediately twitched and perked up in Cullen’s mouth.
It all happened very fast. Cullen opened his mouth to savor that manly flavor, but Dumphry didn’t really give him any opportunity to do that. He just pistoned his hips, forcing his dick into Cullen’s throat. It pulsated, filling him up and making him gag over and over as he struggled to swallow it.
Dumphry hurried through the dome — his dick was too big to be really swallowable, so he never let that continue for too long; no one could get even half of it in their throat. So he just got his dick wet until it was hard, and then he grabbed Cullen by the hair.
“C’mon, man, bend over,” Dumphry growled. He forcibly put Cullen in position. Cullen was limp by then, a little scared and more than a bit aroused. He loved Dumphry’s powerful muscles dragging him into position. In the chill and the darkness of the backroom, it felt like a prison cell, Cullen thought, like he was making love with his cellmate.
Pain hit him when Dumphry began to ram his dick in Cullen’s ass. It was just the tip at first, but it tore Cullen open. Dumphry’s dick was thick and long and he stuck it in without mercy. One of his hand’s held Cullen’s ass in position, while his other kept Cullen’s head down.
“Spread yo’ cheeks, boi, that’s how we do it around here,” Dumphry said. He grabbed Cullen’s hands and made him do so. Cullen struggled to remain bent over while spreading his asscheeks.
The pain slowly melted away into an intense, mind-melting pleasure. Cullen moaned again and again, as the sensations roiling his body gradually increased to a wild crescendo. The free-standing stack of shelves next to Cullen’s head creaked as they repeatedly bumped into it, knocking boxes of doo rags onto the floor.
“Here ya go, whiteboi, you got this right,” Dumphry said, his guttural voice low and slow like he gargled with black coffee, as the last bit of his dick slid into Cullen. He aimed his voice directly at the back of Cullen’s head.
“Ah, god, yes, ram it in me!” Cullen said over and over as Dumphry slammed into him.
Cullen had no idea how long that lasted. By the time it was done, he heard people in the frontroom getting ready to open, but luckily it seemed none of them heard him. Cullen moaned and spasmed, falling flat on the ground.
Dumphry went to the floor with him, his whole body flexing. Sweat covered his muscles and coated Cullen’s back. He snorted into Cullen’s ear. Cum flowed into Cullen’s ass, so much of it that it leaked out and spilled down his thighs. It puddled onto the floor.
The sensation was intense, and it made Cullen moan loudly — finally people in the frontroom heard it, and assumed that Cullen had simply found a client early. Cullen heard them laughing and blushed, still mid-orgasm.
At last it was over, and Dumphry pulled out. He grunted and snorted as he cleaned his dick. Cullen sighed, squirming on the floor while his ass recovered from that mighty pounding. He was exhausted, covered in both his own sweat and Dumphry’s.
“So what’choo think?” Dumphry asked. “Can I stay here or what?”
Cullen nodded. “Hell yeah. You can consider your rent paid.” He just hoped Johnny Cee wouldn’t find out.

The Whiteboy in the Barbershop: Chapter 3