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The Shaving Lesson

by | erotica | 0 comments

To meet the husband of your lover is a strange thing. To realize he was flirting with you was quite another. Henry poked at his eggs and smiled nervously as Adam and Kay whispered to each other, both pairs of their pretty eyes sparkling at him as they conspired.

Henry squirmed under their eyes and attention. The whole thing wasn’t going the way he had planned at all. He had expected brunch to be something formal, like meeting your girlfriend’s parents, but he should have known any man who would have the balls to marry Kay would have to be an interesting character himself.

When they asked him back to their apartment, Henry choked on his cold brew. Still, it was put so innocently, he had to say yes.

In the cab, Kay, who Henry felt like he had just started to understand, bickered with her husband relentlessly. There was a familiarity and an aggression in their conversation that seemed alien to him. It was like having your parents fight in front of you or, more accurately, being over a friend’s house and being privy to their parents’ argument.

The acute foreignness of other people’s fights.

Still, there was an intense love between Kay and Adam that showed even brighter in their argument than their silences. Henry smiled quietly at them as their little spat, about which he still wasn’t clear, faded, and the two of them studied him, communicated things to each other with glances that Henry couldn’t translate.

At their big apartment, Henry marveled as they showed him around. Lots of art on the walls, lots of thought in the design. So far from his rather spartan studio in Brooklyn.

As he was given a tour, Kay noted that Henry had spilled coffee on his jeans and led him to a beautiful bathroom to clean up.

Henry found a cloth and dabbed at the stain. As he pressed the terry cloth into the denim, he looked around at the bathroom in awe.

A huge clawfoot bathtub, fed by lithe snakes of copper pipes and fat vintage faucets. Decadently thick towels piled on wrought iron towel warmers.

The wide porcelain his and hers sinks in front of him were rimmed with the affectations of their owners. Kay’s fancy skin creams, perfumes, makeup, and implements of curling, primping, and pampering. Adam’s side holding combs, pomades, beautiful scissors, clippers, an ornate straight razor with a matching nickel handled shaving cream brush.

Henry picked up the razor and measured the surprising weight of it in the palm of his hand.

“Have you used one?” Kay’s smooth voice asked from the door.

Henry jumped, as he turned to see her standing with her arms folded under her breasts, watching him with a smile that was both warm and wolfish.

She wore a light white gauzy sort of summer dress, which set off the dark brown of her skin and the vivid black of her hair. She had a wide hungry smile.

“Oh, no. I’ve thought about going for a shave at one of those old fashioned barbers, but I never seem to have time.”

She watched him for a beat, then turned with her eyes still on him and called “Adam!”

“Adam can show you. He’s very good. His father did it for a living, you know. A fancy place down on Wall Street,” she said, and his eyes again locked on the fullness of her lips.

“I even have him do my legs sometimes,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Adam appeared next to her, smiling his cool, confident smile. He was tall and charmingly handsome. His beard was thick, but his neck looked freshly shaven.

“A shaving lesson?” He asked her.

He walked over to Henry and took the razor out of his hand. It fit in his fingers in a particularly natural way.

“Kay was saying this morning that she likes how you are usually smooth-shaven. She likes my beard, but it’s nice to have some contrast,” he said, turning on the faucet.

“You should give him a shave. He’s never had a real one,” she directed.

Adam pressed down the stopper in the sink and then opening the mirrored cabinet to take out a glass jar of rich-looking cream as well as a chipped coffee cup.

“Would you like that, champ?” Adam asked with a cocky smile, amused at his nickname.

“Sure,” Henry said into his reflection, his brown eyes sparkling.

Henry wasn’t sure he could say no to anything either of them requested. When alone with Kay, he felt like the aggressor, but when she and Adam were together, the two of them had a predatory grace that left Henry feeling wonderfully overpowered.

Adam dipped the brush into the jar and then lathered the soapy cream in the coffee cup.

“Wash your face first,” he said, pointing at a bar of soap.

Kay rolled her eyes.

“If you’re going to do it, it has to be full service,” she said, brushing Henry aside and lathering her hands.

She washed her hands and then soaked a washcloth in steaming water. She rinsed Henry’s face, then slathered it with a spicy smelling soap, rinsed it again, then laid a hot towel over his nose and jaw.

In his periphery, Henry saw Adam dragging the razor over a leather strop, methodically.

Adam was taller than Henry, by perhaps five or six inches. His hair was a perfectly combed part to one side. Thick and black and glossy with some grease or pomade.

Adam wore an a-line shirt and jeans dappled with white paint and oil. He looked like a hipster version of Tom of Finland.

“Thanks,” Adam said to Kay, who moved over to him and kissed him on the lips.

The intimacy of their touch that made Henry wince. There was a way Kay’s body seemed to melt into Adam’s. She had to stand on the tips of her toes to kiss him. When they parted, they both looked at Henry with matching grins.

“Let’s lather you up, champ,” Adam said, swirling the brush in the mug, which was now overflowing with soapy foam.

The cream was warmer than Henry expected, and it only took a second before the whole bottom half of his face was covered.

Looking into the mirror, Henry marveled at how the razor gleamed in Adam’s hand. Looking up, he saw the handsome bearded man smile as he moved the blade up to Henry’s neck.

The metal was cool, especially because Henry realized he was sweating. Adam put his other hand on the back of Henry’s neck, positioning his head with strong fingers.

“This is usually not a place you want to be after you fuck someone’s wife,” the tall man said with a laugh.

A chill spread over Henry’s body, his hands feeling suddenly numb.

The blade moved a little on Henry’s neck. He could feel a little bite as it removed a small rectangle of stubble. His breathing stopped as Adam worked and spoke.

“I can’t blame you. Who wouldn’t want to fuck her? Still, I’m not immune to jealousy,” Adam continued into Henry’s ear.

Henry’s body was tight, his chin up, neck exposed. Fear and confusion swirling in his head and in his belly. Kay moved closer, her eyes glossy, her body hungry.

“He’s kidding,” she cooed into Henry’s other ear.

The three of them were a sight in the mirror. The black of Adam’s beard, the blue of his eyes, the white of his shirt, and the firmness of his muscular arms. Kay’s dark, flawless skin. As she faced Henry and kissed the freshly shaven patch, Henry looked at the blunt cut of her bob in the mirror. Her dress was loose. An expanse of her shoulders and breasts were visible as she bent forward and kissed Henry’s neck again.

Henry’s skin, darker than Adam’s but much lighter than Kay’s, completed a sort of palette.

Kay moved down Henry’s body, kneeling in front of him and pulling up his shirt to kiss his belly. His reaction was to laugh, but Adam held him still.

“You have to hold very still,” Kay said into his ribs, her teeth nipping at the skin of his belly and then his hip.

Henry froze as the blade slipped over his neck again. So slow as Kay seemed to mimic the movement with her fingers dipping under Henry’s jeans.

Adam moved his hand around him, pressing his chest against Henry’s back, his arm moving under Henry’s and his thumb steadying his chin. He continued the shave as Kay kissed down Henry’s belly.

“Easy,” Adam whispered into Henry’s ear.

As Adam shaved the edge of Henry’s lip, Kay opened Henry’s belt. A long stroke of the blade and the long fall of his jeans to the floor. Then, as he attempted to look down at Kay without moving too much, he felt his boxers join his pants on the floor.

It seemed impossible to Henry that he wasn’t hard, but the fear had briefly won over desire. Kay’s warm hand cupping his balls made short work of his senses.

“I think,” Adam said, clearing his throat and breaking the tension for a moment.

“I think that Kay is being very careless. We don’t want to cut our guest. I think she should sit on her hands until we are through.”

Kay stopped and popped up with a huff. She eyed Adam, but relented after a moment. She slipped onto the counter, fitting neatly between the sink and the wall. She drew her legs up until her chin leaned on her knees.

Adam continued.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” he remarked as he finished one side of Henry’s face and started in the other.

Kay smiled at the compliment. Her legs parted slightly, the hem of her dress had ridden up to her waist.

Henry’s eyes flickered from his own reflection, to the shadow between Kay’s legs. As Adam finished his other cheek, the two men watched as Kay’s hands found their way between her legs, and she let out a little bird-like whimper as her fingers drifted between her thighs.

Adam leaned closer to Henry, the razor poised just under his nose. Adam’s other hand moved down Henry’s chest, down to his hard cock.

“I’m going to touch your cock, Henry.”

The fear was complicated. Henry was certainly attracted to the man, he was attracted to Kay, but there was some subterranean wall there, some instinctual fear of giving in to the desire to be touched by a man.

Henry said nothing, but nodded his head as his eyes found Adam’s in the mirror.

As Adam’s large warm hand closed around Henry’s cock, Kay’s hand moved between her legs. Pretty purple nail polish disappearing for a moment.

It was different. It really was. Adam’s hand was strong and a little rough, and the fear of the razor and of being with a man all mixed together. The heat of the day and the hot water. The smell of the soap and shaving cream and Kay’s pussy.

Somehow Henry’s eyes had closed, and he let out a short groan as Adam’s hand worked on him.

“That’s right,” Adam said, putting the razor down and taking hold of the scruff of Henry’s neck while he jerked his now hard cock off.

“But I want your eyes open,” Adam said, taking Henry’s hair in his hand to get his attention.

“You just keep watching her fuck herself. You keep your eyes on her, and then it doesn’t make it gay that I’m jerking you off,” Adam teased with a cruel laugh.

Henry felt the fear mix with a little anger. It felt like Adam was reading his mind and laughing at him.

“I’ll let you know when I think of an excuse that will keep you straight while you suck my cock.”

Henry fought against Adam’s hand in his hair a little, and Adam laughed. Adam was stronger.

Henry locked eyes with Kay, who was smiling wickedly. He would show them. His hands, which he had seemingly forgotten how to move, came to life and reached behind him. The hardness of Adam’s cock rubbing against his palm freshened the fear and want in his blood.

He pulled at Adam’s belt and the buttons of his jeans until Adam moved back and let Henry pull his pants down. Then Henry found himself on his knees. His face pressed into black boxer briefs. No one was laughing.

Kay’s moans echoed on the tile floor.

Henry pulled at the waistband. His heart was beating so fast it hurt. The hair on Adam’s stomach was confusing. Then the black material gave way to paler skin and then his cock.

Maybe Henry moved quickly so that he could beat the fear from stopping him, maybe a need that had been tied up inside of him since first forbidden thoughts as a teen finally stretched its hungry limbs, and there was no holding it back.

Henry sucked Adam’s cock, his hands on the base of it. His mouth trying to figure out how to work things, where his tongue went, guarding his teeth, getting his lips around the width of it.

Kay was saying something, but the blood was in his ears, and Henry couldn’t hear.

Adam’s hand went back to Henry’s hair, and his body vibrated a little as he chuckled.

“He is a good boy,” Henry heard Adam say.

Kay’s hand joined Adams and pulled at Henry’s hair, guiding him forward.

“I told you he would be,” she laughed.

“Let’s take him into the bedroom and see what other tricks he has,” Adam said, pulled Henry off his cock.

Henry was a wild animal on the floor, conscious only of desire. Kay seems to understand, and as the couple turned and walked towards their bedroom, she beckoned for Henry to crawl after them.

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