The Fate Of The Tonsorial Artist

The Darkness

Oh Cinderella, weren't you done?” The voice echoed. Meters away from the kitchen's entrance.

Composure and professionalism gripped his whole body. Johnson had hastily zipped up, moving his body far away from Vivian’s,who rested on the table.

In the dark, swiftly rearranging their bodies. Johnson remained perplexed. He was assured that they were double footsteps.

“Papi, I thought it was going to be the upper week” carefully Vivian moved away from the table, in full anticipation to receive both of them.

“Hello Mr Garcia” with her hands spread wide open.

In a split second, everywhere became bright.

“Oh perfect Garcia, now this is brighter” Ortiz Alvarez's voice thundered.

Garcia was fully kitted in his industrial coat, with a face cap that covered his short curly hair. From the edge of the bar table, Johnson could boldly read it.

‘EL GARCIA OPERATIONS’

Fully crested on the side pocket of his shirt. Interior maintenance was a bi-weekly routine at the gigantic billionaire’s mansion. Vivian didn't expect her father’s sole handyman to be around at this time.

“Yeah Garcia, there's the young fella that gave me this crispy trim”

Johnson had stood up now. Oozing in mass composure. His bag hung on his shoulder.

“Hello, good day sir” bending his head in acknowledgement.

“Young man, you are good with your craft”

“My Chairman hardly compliments artisans. This must be a sorcery” he teased

He saw the fake smirk that overshadowed Ortiz's countenance. Bag still on his shoulders. Legs moving majestically towards the triple beings that had mass proximity to the kitchen’s exit.

“Oh scratch that Garcia, he should come clean you one of these days” with a bolting response.

Alvarez, in his blistering garment, with a rolled blunt hanging somewhere between his fingers, was sided on the right. Vivian, with her head in a crouching position, against her father's shoulder, released multiple winks towards the worried tonsorial artist.

“You've definitely been given a nice treat, huh buddy?” Alvarez questioned

“Oh yes. Yes, yes sir”

“Grateful for the hospitality”

He folded his hands in acknowledgement, bent his head in gratitude, doled out the preserved smile through every angle of his dentals as his titled his face from the scruffy look of the billionaire’s towards the enchanting, sultry look of the one who had taken him on a sensual ride.

“Alright buddy, Vivi would guard you and escort you to through the exit ways”

“An Uber driver would pick you up in a few minutes at the gate,” he further emphasized.

The whole organs of Johnson remained mute, only his head nodded slightly in acknowledgement towards Mr Ortiz, as the harsh vapour from the tobacco he dragged clouded the atmosphere.

“Alright sir. Grateful” with a smile.

The inhalation of tobacco didn't obstruct his composure. He moved his leg against the ruby crested tiles.

“This way Mr groomer” her tone, different and softer now.

The way she raised her head against her dad's shoulder in exact synchrony to the manner her finger was lifted made him grin.

“Alright Ma” he beamed.

Both Mr Alvarez and Garcia were distracted by their devices. Their hefty hands moving swiftly against the white blistering screen. “Garcia, this chandelier would suit the guest rooms and reception huh?” “Matches the warm theme the paintings portray tho, boss!”

“You are right Garcia. Can't wait to sum up that Monaco’s project”

Their luxury conversation spur into the atmosphere. They moved in uniformity towards the far end of the kitchen. At the end, was a golden themed balcony, which revealed all roofing sheets of the major mansions in Landmark Estate.

They became shadows now. Johnson overhead. The loud commanding vocals of her father. How he wailed with his technician. Their conversation had moved away from project consultation to the explanation of how gruesome Jimenez’s death was.

“Who's Jimenez, Vivian?”

They were already meters away from the kitchen, dragging their feet slowly against the shiny floor. Bodies hitting bodies unintentionally. To Johnson, the royal treatment he's received was enough to drown him in comfy. The golden corridor embraced the warmth their body exhaled. The elevator was nigh.

“Oh darling, Jimenez is one of pop's allies,” she winked. Running her fingers through his scalp, with the other hand pressed against the diamond button in front of them.

Ding.

Ding.

The elevator chimed. “After you, Mr Groomer” with her hand stretched. Johnson for a second rolled his eyeballs against hers. Then moved his body into the machine.

“Last floor Alexa”

Oh the Elevator hears also, he pondered, as the angelic voice of Vivian had transited his soul into clouds of ecstasy. He felt his cock move again this time. But the weariness of the surveillance camera kept him on deck.

The utmost mission had been accomplished. He recalled. The words of the technician sprinting through his mind. The notable billionaire hardly gives artisans reviews. A boy with hands that thrives with sorcery. He boasted in his spirit. In amusement, his hands ran softly against the scanty hairs on his chin.

“Hey, what's with the smile” she raised her head, away from her device, gazing directly into his face.

Johnson remained mute, but the sheepish grin still clouded his face. Still fixating on her sultry gaze. The edge of his trouser zipper was heavy now.

Ding.

Ding.

The raw natural breeze that blew through the opened doors of the elevator was heavy. Vivian felt her hair swerve into various angles, landing on Johnson's face.

“Looks like it's gonna rain tonight,” he muttered.

Slowly, they disappeared from the elevator, onto the veranda. The interlocked floor of the compound watched their feet move sluggishly.

“Wish you were with me in my bed. A cozy night would it be”

Johnson got lost in her voice. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Away from the wide-interlocked walkway, he was pushed. The compartment, free of surveillance cameras, embraced the heavy impact of his body. Vivian hands turned robotic. With a flash, her mouth was already on his cock.

“Oh fuck!” He moaned.

The desire to ignite the flame that burnt earlier. He wasn't the sorcerer anymore, she was. Johnson accepted this fate. His eyes went blank and dark. Would he dive away from the sea of lust in form of love at first sight?

His brain lost all its calculations, it only indicated the count of strokes her salivating mouth produced against his cock.

“Oh Viviiii”

“Fuck” he moaned lowly, opening his eyes this time. His hand holding the back of her hair, staring at the way she weaponized her tongue.

“I want to….” He groaned slowly again. Eyes closed.

She increased her pace. Throbbing like a hungry Cheetah.

“..... release. Oh fuck!” his breath became heavy.

“There you go baby” this time her mouth was away from his cock. Her hands moved against it swiftly.

“Oh gosh” he moaned again.

The Billionaire's heiress revealed the elasticity of her mouth. She received every fluid that came out through his urethra. Johnson’s leg trembled for a second. He was astonished by the way she gulped his semen and the manner she stared at him, fixing his rod in his panties and zipping him up.

He summoned strength, battling against the wave of weariness that crouched his body. Composure and professionalism gripped his soul, he remained gleeful. She had taken a few steps ahead. His feet thumped the designed interlocked floors majestically. Every walk she took was a phase of admiration. Like a pirate who's copped a treasure. Her back view was alluring.

“The cab guy would arrive in no time” her face was still positioned ahead, but her fingers moved backwards in alignment to every speech she uttered.

“Oh yeah” he answered with a low sheepish tone.

The golden-long and gigantic gate was beginning to become visible. The flowers on the edge of the interlocked walkways wave and smile at them as they surf through. The alluring lamps, positioned at different angles on the high-barbwired fence brightened their path.

From a far range, he visualized their huge muscular build. This same man that somehow made his security pass scruffy. His countenance changed as the passage to the estate’s road became more clear.

“Hola Jonas”

“Hola Miguel”

“Dad ordered me to escort him. He would be taking his leave, as soon as the cab guy arrives” her voice, childish and girly.

Johnson, with his hands folded in front of his stomach, remained silent. He nodded in acknowledgement to her proclamations.

Their arms are so big, battling each helm of their short-sleeve tops. With numerous tattoos mapping the entire region of their arms. Johnson kept his cool. Observant and composed. Vivian, a few meters ahead of him, bent down and rubbed the head of the bulldog gripped firmly by one of the hefty personnel. It wagged its tail and tongue. Johnson sensed the excitement. She's a sorcerer who transmits happiness, he pondered.

“Alright princess, lead him to the waiting cabin then” with a baritone voice.

“Mate, you just chill there till your cab guy arrives,” the other added.

Johnson smiled and nodded in response. Vivian stood away from petting the joyous, fearful mammal.

She carried her legs slowly in direction towards a left diversion close to the gate. Surveillance cameras were mounted everywhere. She acted like a total stranger to the Tonsorial Artist that she sexually explored. Johnson adhered to the signs. He followed her lead like a gentleman. Composure and professionalism. The quota of his guardian. Ringing heavily in the compartments of his medulla oblongata.

“There!” She raised her hand in direction.

Multiple chairs. Placed in front of a blistering cabin. In the direct opposite of the gate. Johnson could visualize the luxurious cars that toiled the street of the prominent Landmark Estate.

“Oh thank you Vivian!” He acknowledged.

Johnson took a step forward, in direction to the cabin’s veranda, where the comfy chairs were structured. He was puzzled. What sort of speed she possessed. Before he could utter any word, she gummed her lips against his. Her hands on his chin.

“Keep it. It's gold. Don't misplace it” she whispered slowly into his ears.

Johnson watched her unglue her body from his. His hands held on tight to the brown envelope. The grins were very much visible now. Composure and professionalism faded away. She became a shadow in the dark, as the cold breeze blew through his scalp.

The boy from Montiel has gotten entwined in the shackles of luxurious affection, perhaps lust at first sight. The orphan who's always optimistic about his future, bags the heart of a golden princess. These thoughts played symmetrically. The icing on the cake, bagging a five-star review from a prominent billionaire with some potential referral was no small feat.

“Mama, this is just the beginning. I will make you proud i promise” with a low voice, the envelope placed against his chest and his head raised up to the stars that clouded the firmament.

Just as he lowered his buttocks, aiming to glue onto one of the comfy chairs. His sight got disrupted by the heavy flashing of light. The double honks burst through every wall of his ears.

What manner of swerving is this? Johnson, with a puzzled face, inquired.

The honk came in heavy one more time.

“Hey mate, that must be the Uber guy!” Miguel, with his baritone voice, thundered.

“Just walk to the sensor scanner by the right side of the gate and go out gently” the voice louder now.

The hefty dude was closer now, accompanied by the mouth wagging bulldog. Johnson hung his belongings on his shoulders. His legs took him slowly towards the scanning machine that posed by the left segment of the golden gate.

This time, he didn't act as a weirdo, the exact way he did hours ago. He raised his neck, bent his body and placed his face on the digital machine.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The machine scanned. He let out a smile,tilted his face and waved to Miguel. “ Take care buddy” voice hefty as his physique.

He oozed in royalty, his legs trembled against the granite street. His gaze was fully on the cab driver whose engine was still steaming against the dark.

“Johnson the Barber huhh!” His voice was weary.

The boy from Montiel jammed the door handle gently, nodding his head in acknowledgement to the inquiry that came from the steering.

“Seat belt please” the driver further ordered.

“ Your voice speaks tiredness sir” Johnson chipped in.

“Boy, hectic is an understatement” he stressed.

Johnson felt the ignition kick. His eyeballs fixated on the inner mirror, watching the driver swerve the steering onto the asphalt way.

Despite the weak tone, Johnson felt an ounce of dexterity. Every speech he uttered. How the traffic jam at Bricks lane held him down for half an hour. The smoky reaction his bonnet produced in the early hours of the day. Johnson immersed all of his wails. A proper listening buddy.

On the chair, he was aware. Men expressed their feelings more, he understood their emotions. He grasped the whole lamentations of the man behind the wheel.

Maturity speaks when you aren't distracted during a dialogue. He remembered these phrases from his guardian. Now he craved his abode.

“At the end of the day sir, you would give all thanks to God, fall into the arms of your wife and kids” he comforted.

“Now I see why the affluent utilize your services” with a thumbs up and a wink, Mr Williams commended.

Johnson had sighted his tag and the blistering marital ring. He grinned deeply. The vehicle increased its pace. Mr Williams placed his gaze fully on the road. The soft music blazed high through the roof. Johnson moved his head in accordance with the melodious tone emitting from the speakers.

Moments from now, he would be in the zone where comfort harboured. Where chats and hair clashes. His mind flashed. The words came knocking. He recalled. The heavy laughter. How clueless he was. The heavy stares of Mr Emerson from the adored chair of his.

His head deeply sunk into the car's fluffy chair. Eyes visibly shut. The words of Ramirez and his buddies clocked his brain.

“And if for the first time,she….”