A Little Off the Top

Kurt's eyes scanned the paper, skimming for the names of his clients today. Sam Evans. He hated when they had unisex names; he liked to go in knowing at least a little something. "Oh, well," he muttered to himself; another day, another dollar. Who'd have thought that he'd make his living giving middle-aged women and gay men brazilians?

He opened the door and walked into the room. Whoa. Okay. Sam Evans was definitely a man. Well, a young man, anyway. Sitting in the private room where Kurt saw clients was a teenager, but that word wasn't nearly descriptive enough. He had hair of gold and was built like a swimmer, the aesthetician could already tell, even through the clothes. The client looked to be about seventeen, eighteen, maybe, and he had the most adorable, yes, even sensual pout to his ample lips that Kurt had ever seen. In his life. Period. God, he was wearing a horizontally striped tank top, showing off the arms of Adonis.

"Get yourself together, fool," Kurt privately admonished himself. "You're a professional, for Chanel's sake!" He put on his work smile, totally cool, maybe even a little disarming.

"Hello, Mr. Evans, I'm Kurt, and I'll be your therapist today." That term always seemed to relax the clients more; it made him sound more like a doctor, and you could trust doctors.

The boy nervously wiped his palms against his shorts. "Uh, hi."

An inauspicious start, but Kurt had seen worse. Once, a middle-aged real estate agent had been forced into the salon by his wife, and he'd started crying before Kurt had even pulled out a strip.

"Well, why don't we start with you telling me what you'd like done, and then we'll go from there." He sat across from the client and crossed his legs. He'd once seen a doctor do that.

The client, Sam, Kurt reminded himself, opened his mouth several times before words came out. God, he was cute.

"I – I don't usually do stuff like this, I know it's not, not," he struggled for the words, the right phrase.

Kurt had seen this before. "Everyone waxes, Sam. It's not a big deal at all. Do you play sports?"

The kid must have thought that to be an alright question. "Football."

"Ah, when I worked in LA, I had two NFL quarterbacks as regulars. It's 2014, and everyone likes to look good these days, so don't worry, you're in good company." He picked up his clipboard. "So let's get a fresh start. Hello, Sam. I'm Kurt. What brings you in today?"

That did seem to set him a little more at ease, the football statistic. Sam still would have rather been in the middle of a hurricane though, that much was obvious.

"My girlfriend. She, she's kinda bossy, and, and she said that she wouldn't, um," his eyes were boring holes into the ground, "she said that she wouldn't . . ."

"Your girlfriend's holding out until you do some personal grooming?" That was usually the reason for straight boys coming in here.

Sam's shoulders sank in relief. "It's like you already know Santana."

Kurt chuckled. "Well, think of it like this, you'd want her to clean up for you, wouldn't you?"

"Like I'd know; it's not like she ever lets me down there." As soon as the words came out, Sam slapped his hand over his mouth, his face red all over again.

With a slight grin, Kurt stood up. "Well, I assure you, after you're looking smooth, your girlfriend will be much more . . . giving. Now, how far are we going?"

His Adam's apple bobbed. "She, she said all of it."

His embarrassment was probably the most adorable thing Kurt had ever seen. And he was secretly glad that this guy had a bitchy girlfriend; he'd get to see, to touch, everything. It wasn't professional of him to think that way, but Kurt was a living, breathing human being, and this client was hot. Call it a perk to make up for the crappy pay.

"Well, that's very common, so no big deal," Kurt smiled. He forced his tongue back, kept it from licking his lips. So, so unprofessional. He didn't care. "Alright, Sam," he said, standing up, but slowly, so as not to surprise the obviously skittish client, "I'm going to step outside for a minute, and if you'll just get undressed and lie down on the table, that'll be great."

Sam looked like the he wanted the earth to open up beneath him. "Uh, I have to take off, uh, everything?"

Just the thought made Kurt's stomach tingle. "Well, I think that's the area your girlfriend's interested in, right?" Cute, but dumb. A dream.

"Yeah, I guess so." He looked like he still couldn't believe. "Okay."

"Great!" Kurt hadn't meant to sound so enthused. He coughed and turned it down a bit. "I'll be back in just a few minutes."

As soon as the door shut behind him, Kurt let out a deep breath. He didn't know why this guy was having such an effect on him. He'd worked with the ultra-handsome before, especially back in LA, before the move back to Lima. But this kid (and that made him feel like a creeper, that Sam was just a teenager), this kid was something else. He obviously had a great body, but more than that, he was just so innocent! Those doe eyes and pouting lips! "Screw it, I'm only a couple years older than him," Kurt told himself. It wasn't weird to be attracted to someone as hot as Sam.

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Kurt made a point of not looking at the table where his client was lying totally exposed. Instead, he walked to the sink against the wall. "So, do you like video games, Sam?" They'd told him in training that conversation could go a long way towards easing the tension in an admittedly awkward situation.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely." The voice was slightly more strained than before. Kurt couldn't say he blamed him. He'd never strip for a stranger to apply hot wax to his junk. He handled his own needs at home, sometimes with the help of his boyfriend, if they were feeling frisky.

"My stepbrother loves Halo. Do you play that one?" He finished drying his hands and turned around to face his client. Kurt saw Sam's mouth moving in answer, but he didn't hear whatever he was saying.

The body on display was amazing. Sam had his hands over his groin, but still, everything else was right there, so exposed. His chest was milky white and lined with muscle. His thighs, so strong, had a downy golden dusting of hair. Kurt had to keep himself from staring and counting the sheer number of abs on this guy's belly. To distract himself, he rolled the cart with his waxing materials over towards the middle of the room. He'd set the wax to heat earlier, so everything was ready.

"Alright," Kurt said, professional as always, hopefully reassuring. You had to reassure the client, get him comfortable, as you were about to apply hot wax to his junk. "First, I'll cleanse the area. This gets rid of any bacteria that might be there." He saw the look on Sam's face. "Oh, I'm sure you're very clean, but it's just policy."

Sam gave the slightest of nods, his white teeth digging in to his bottom lip, making it even redder than it'd been when he'd come in.

Kurt turned to the cart and soaped up his hands, now ready to get started. By this point he'd calmed down a little; he was getting into the job now, and no matter how hot this client happened to be, Kurt was still a professional. He wouldn't treat Sam any differently than he did Mr. Bowler, the seventy-three year old who came in every six weeks to "keep things fresh" for Gerta, his wife of forty-eight years.

Ready, Kurt turned back to the table to find his client with his hands still firmly entrenched over his nether regions. He gently cleared his throat, and when the guy didn't take the hint, Kurt said, "Uh, Sam? Ready to get started?"

Sam Evans blinked those long lashes quickly. He didn't say anything, but Kurt could see his chest rise and fall. After just a second more, he moved his hands, letting them rest at his sides.

Kurt was proud of the fact that his face revealed nothing. What with manscaping's surge in popularity, he saw naked guys on most days of the workweek, so it wasn't like he was new to this. He was the most popular technician at the salon, and Kurt traced it back to the fact that he made the entire experience as normal as possible, and that was saying something.

So his eyes didn't bulge out of their sockets as they took in Sam Evans. But it was a concerted effort on Kurt's part.

He actually wasn't that hairy, not when compared to some clients Kurt had seen. Sam had a thin trail of hair that led from his bellybutton down to his crotch. It widened into a thatch of wispy golden curls. The hair was downy and light, and blended well against the pale skin. Truly, if he had his druthers, Kurt would tell Sam to keep it; he looked natural, and not that Sam was feminine, but the curls added just a touch of masculinity. But the guy wanted to get laid, and Kurt couldn't fault him for that.

Speaking in a tone that he might use to ask his grandmother about the sermon at church on Sunday morning, Kurt said, "Okay, I'm just going to start with the cleanse now. It'll only take a second." Sam's eyes were clenched such, like he expected this part to sting. That would come in a minute, Kurt thought with an inner chuckle.

He was careful to keep his soapy fingers in the hair. Kurt would have to touch other things later, but right now, he wanted to keep things simple; it was easier for the client if you didn't start by manhandling them.

But Kurt did look. Out from the patch of hair came Sam's penis. He'd seen larger ones in this room, but Sam had nothing to be ashamed of, not at all; he was amply endowed. His manhood was pale, but slightly pinker than the rest of him. It was lying flaccid against Sam's thigh, Kurt noted that Sam wasn't circumcised; he didn't see that every day. He glanced back up to the head of the table to find his client still, his face braced towards the ceiling, eyes shut.

Kurt afforded himself a lingering stare. Sam's dick was nicely plump. The end was capped in a dusky foreskin. Kurt could just barely see the tip of the pink head sticking out, slightly exposed. He knew from professional experience that all penises were different, and he felt qualified to judge that Sam's suited his body perfectly. It was gorgeous. Resting beneath his cock was a full scrotum, slightly darker than the penis. It had a few little hairs, so Kurt would be handling it, too. Balls took a sure hand, and he prided himself on his light touch.

Kurt caught Sam opening his eyes slightly as he rinsed. Drying his hands, he said, "Okay, now for the part everyone dreads." He smiled at the client, "No, in all honesty, it's not that bad, not bad at all." Kurt motioned towards the wax. "I promise that getting tackled on the football field feels about a thousand times worse."

Sam nodded slightly, but still didn't say anything. Some clients were chatty, but this one was still too nervous, it seemed. His cheeks were ever redder than they'd been when he'd arrived. Kurt thought that he got more adorable by the second.

Sam's body tensed slightly when the warm wax first touched skin.

"Some people actually find this relaxing," Kurt pointed out.

"Hammocks are relaxing, dude. The beach is relaxing."

A laugh shot out of Kurt's mouth, unexpected. "You've probably got a point there." He pressed a strip onto the wax he'd applied to Sam's groin. "Okay, here we go." Quickly, he held the end of the strip, and yanked it off quickly, taking little hairs with it.

Sam's body jumped, and Kurt certainly didn't miss noticing that his penis flopped and landed on his other leg from the movement. But, unlike some clients, Sam didn't cry out.

"See, not too horrible, right?"

Realizing that that was as bad as it got, it looked like Sam was actually starting to loosen up, at least a little. "It's not as bad as the third Spider-Man movie."

Kurt laughed aloud again. "An interesting perspective." He pressed more wax in, then ripped it back; Sam didn't clench as animatedly this time.

Now for the tricky part. Kurt never knew whether he should announce that he was going to touch the client's junk, or if he should just do it. It was an awkward announcement to make. He decided to just take Sam in hand.

To his credit, the blonde didn't jump or yelp, which had happened a time or two in the past. Kurt decided not to comment; Sam would realize that he needed to get the hairs at the base when Kurt used his free hand to put the wax there.

But Kurt's legs did tingle a little when he felt Sam's penis, lightly gripped in his hand. It was soft but firm, and hot; he could feel it pulsing, ever so slightly. Sam was breathing loudly through his mouth now. So was Kurt. He felt the loose foreskin move under his touch. Fascinating.

"So, what's your favorite football team?" Most awkward conversation ever, always.

"Th-the Titans," Sam muttered. Eyes open now, he was staring at the technician holding his dick. Kurt realized that judging by what he'd said about his girlfriend, this was probably the most action the blonde had gotten in a while.

"Ah, my brother likes them, at least, he's got a jersey." Kurt didn't know sports. He was more of a thespian who just happened to yank out people's hair.

It didn't surprise him when he felt Sam's dick start to thicken against his palm. This was not to say that it didn't please him.

It was obvious that Sam was making a point of not saying anything, probably ignoring the situation, hoping it would go away. But when Kurt let go of his penis and it didn't lie flat, he swallowed hard.

"Dude, I'm so sorry, I –"

"Sam, it's fine." Kurt continued with the waxing, causing Sam to jump again. When he did, his cock bobbed in the air. Kurt bit his lip as he said, "It's totally normal and happens all the time." It did, but he never reacted like this; Kurt shifted his legs a bit, thankful that Sam's eyes were on the ceiling and not on Kurt's own groin.

Hard, Sam's penis was even more beautiful. It had to be close to seven inches, and rigid like this, it curved slightly in the air, pointing towards his chest. It was a darker pink now, and Kurt's mouth went dry as he watching the foreskin slowly retract as the cock swelled to its full size. The skin pulled back on its own accord, revealing the plump, red glans that had a slight sheen. It was just so personal and private. As a football player, Kurt figured that Sam probably spent a lot of time naked in locker rooms, but even then, no one probably got to see this, his dick's flushed and sensitive head, usually covered by skin. Kurt was aching in his pants.

"Uh," he struggled to keep his voice flat, "didn't the Titans win the Super Bowl or something?"

"Nah," Sam answered, his voice strained. He'd clenched his eyes shut again, obviously too embarrassed to look at the other guy in the room.

The dick was so rigid that every time Kurt would rip a waxing strip back, it'd move, just a little, and the shiny head would catch the fluorescent lights above. It was hypnotizing. Kurt swallowed hard, for the hundredth time.

He had to move the thing again, to get to hair at the base, and he definitely noticed the tiny groan that escaped Sam's clenched lips. When the side of Kurt's hand touched the head, the blonde hissed, his abs clenching up at the same time. Kurt had forgotten that uncut guys were more sensitive there.

"Almost done," he was able to say a few minutes later. Kurt's mouth was dry and his pants were extremely tight, but he still had to do Sam's balls. It wasn't like he was dreading the prospect.

The football player, in spite of the undeniably uncomfortable waxing, was still rock hard, his cock still standing up in the air. Kurt didn't comment on the fact that the head was redder and more shiny. He thought he noticed a bead of sweat across Sam's forehead.

Sam groaned again when Kurt took his scrotum in hand. His toes clenched and unclenched repeatedly.

"My dad played football in college," the brunette offered. "He always loved it."

Sam didn't offer an answer. His hands were in fists at his sides now, and his broad chest was far redder than when they'd started. His abdominals continued to clench and relax.

Finished with Sam's balls, leaving them a ruddy pink, Kurt turned to toss away the last strip, and then his arm accidentally grazed Sam's cock again.

His hips surged upward off the table in response. "Fuck," the boy gasped.

With one hand still holding Sam's balls, Kurt felt them seize up. There was nothing he could do to stop his eyes widening as the come shot out of Sam's dick.

The milky white jizz came out in spurts, thick and heavy. The first hit Sam's heaving chest, right below the collarbone. His head was back, mouth open, chin in the air, eyes closed, as his body continued to shoot the stuff out. It pooled in his bellybutton, along his abs, and on the now bare skin where his pubes had been.

Still Kurt stood there, frozen, as he watched the dick twitch. Finally, the come slowed to a dribble from the dark glans. He became aware of himself and released the blonde's scrotum. It didn't seem as though Sam noticed; he was still gasping for breath, red face turned up to the ceiling.

Kurt licked his lips as the penis started to soften. He didn't say anything, though he probably should have given false reassurances that this kind of thing happened all the time. Instead, he watched the organ slowly sink back to Sam's crotch. Hugging the shaft, the foreskin reclaimed the sensitive head, covering it again. Kurt pulled his shirt lower to cover the damp spot on his pants.

Finally, they found themselves staring at one another, with Sam pushing himself up by his elbows. It was quite a sight for Kurt. The blonde was panting slightly, his bare chest still pink, his soft cock limp against his leg. There was some wetness dribbling from the opening of the foreskin. And his abdominals and stomach gleamed in the light with the cooling spunk. Sam's eyes were blown wide and his lips were a harsh red. Naked, exposed, all six feet of pale, muscled skin, he looked totally fucked over.

When Sam's lips started to quiver in what was obviously going to be a humiliated apology, Kurt broke in with a smile. "Well, we're all finished here. I'll just let you get dressed," he said in his most professional, blandest voice. Sam stared back. "Whoever's behind the counter up front will be happy to get you signed out."

Still, the mortified Sam tried to apologize.

"I hope your girlfriend realizes how lucky she is to have a guy who'll do anything to make her happy." With a pointed glance to the box of tissues by the sink, Kurt smiled and slid out the door. Before any of his coworkers could try to speak with him, he snuck into the employee bathroom and locked the door.

He had a few minutes before his next appointment, and planned to make good use of the time.