Gay Erotic Stories

I am not a shopper. My wife knows this and buys almost all of the basic needs, but occasionally, I have to brave it and do some personal shopping that she cannot do for me. I had lost just enough pounds by working out that I needed some new clothes so I was kind of looking forward to the shopping for a change. In the men’s department of my favorite department store, I had made the selections that I wanted, and was amazed that no salesman had tackled me. I had to go looking for one to do the fitting for some sports trousers. The first one that I saw was an aging (no, make that “ancient”) guy that was sort of sauntering around a bit like an absent-minded professor, and when he looked in my direction with anticipation, I said, “Just looking, thank you,” and kept on my search. I also rejected a woman in a sari; I was just not in the mood for a resident alien to measure me up. I finally settled on a young guy, no doubt from the university, undoubtedly, he was the best of the bunch. He was excited when I asked him if he could help me, and I could see his delight in the several selections that I had. He was probably already calculating his commission. Eager to please, he led me to the alterations area. I was “Sir” and that was kind of fun. Yes Sir! I sized him up lustfully. Handsome. Yes, he was a business major at the university. Had been working here part-time for a couple of years, he told me, as if to assure me that he knew what he was doing. A killer smile with straight white teeth. An athletic and muscular good build, that could not even be hidden by the sport coat that was just slightly too large for his frame. He seemed aware of the over-sized jacket himself as he shrugged his shoulders, or he sensed my appraisal, and he took off the jacket and got to his knees to do the measuring. Nice bod, I was thinking. And Hell Yea, he was drop-dead handsome, and I was enjoying having him on his knees with his eyes at my cock level. It had always been a fantasy of mine to have someone like this studly young guy to come on to me in this kind of unexpected situation, and I had fantasized about this very scene in a fitting room. I had read stories on the Internet of exactly this type of situation, and I was thinking that I might actually live out the fantasy. Do they ever really happen in real life just the way they do in the fantasy? I was going to see what might happen. As he was measuring me up, I was having my own little thoughts and was beginning to bulge, without paying much attention to what he was doing since I was having more fun in thinking about what I would LIKE for him to be doing. “Excuse me Sir,” he suddenly announced just after pushing his hand firmly up under my crotch, while measuring my inseam. I said nothing, but the little hand action did nothing to dispel the bulging bulge, and I could feel myself firming up even more,s as he seemed to be fulfilling my long-term fantasy. It had now reached the point that he simply could not be unaware of the proportion of my crotch. I wanted him to do something to start some physical action, but he just carried on with sticking pins in the cuff. He stood, and adjusted the waist of my trousers, stuffed in some more pins somewhere, and then rubbed his hands over my ass as he declared that it was a “nice fit.” With one gentler pat on the ass, he said to me, “OK, now try on the other trousers.” With that last little love pat, I was now pushing the fabric of my jockey shorts to the limit and I was certain that he simply had to be well aware of it all. I checked myself in the mirror. The visual was there. The bulge was definitely noticeable. In the little cubicle, I stepped out of the trousers and looked at myself, admired myself, in the mirror. I smiled at the view of my hard-on in the jockey shorts, and chided myself for getting carried away with this young studly guy. Bringing myself back to reality, I told myself that he might well be aware of my aroused condition, but he was likely not anything more than amused by “this guy as old as my Dad threw a boner while I measured him” as I was sure he would be telling his buddies back on campus. I slipped into trousers #2 and went back to the dais for the measuring. He set about his work, and I was watching him in the tri-fold mirror. As much as I wanted to think that he was going to come on to me, there was no evidence of it. Until. Until he cupped his hand directly over my bulging crotch, and said devilishly, “If this is a permanent condition, we need to make alterations for it.” I almost shot a load! I was embarrassed but his comment and his touch were a definite turn-on. I was throbbing and twitching and I knew he could not dismiss feeling that involuntary twitching movement of my cock as he kept his hand firmly over my crotch. I could not think of anything to say, so I just gave a nervous little laugh and headed back to the changing cubicle. Once there, I slipped out of the trousers, and could not ignore my demanding dick any longer. I pushed my shorts down and off, and grabbed a fistful of my hard meat, jerking myself off, furiously, and watching it all in the mirror. I saw the door of my cubicle open in the mirror, and I saw my sales clerk as he came inside, holding the trousers and he quickly and quietly closed the door behind him. I did not try to hide what I was doing, I did not feign to be doing anything other than what I was. I was jacking off. He was staring. The cubicle was small and there was no option other than to be close. I moved in on him and pressed my lips hard against his, and was humping and grinding my throbbing hard-on right against his crotch. He seemed to be breathing heavy and was moaning a series of “No, no, no” in a low voice and tussling with me, and that was turning me on even more. I was groping for his crotch, and he kept pushing me away. Just as I felt that he was succumbing, I stepped back, and as I did so, he was out of the cubicle in a flash. I dressed slowly, in a sort of daze as to what had actually transpired. When I emerged, my sales clerk had my other purchases ready, and I paid for them with no conversation. He did not even murmur a “thanks” as I picked up my purchases and tried to escape from this embarrassing event. To make matters all the worse, there was this guy standing directly in my path, and with ominous tones in his voice, said to me, “I’m from Security, would you come with me please?” This was definitely not the way my fantasy with the store clerk was supposed to turn out, and I was embarrassed and timid as he led me to the elevator, which we took to the basement to an office with SECURITY imprinted on the door. He held the door open for me, and he closed the door after we were inside the windowless office. I was embarrassed, guilty, angry, and worried about the outcome of all this. I could quickly envision a police record, all sorts of humiliation were flashing through my mind. He looked me up and down, telling me that the sales clerk had called him with the complaint and that he had no choice other than to intervene. He asked me for my version of what had taken place in the fitting room. There was not much to tell, and there was not much to hide. I told him that the guy had caused me a major bit of horniness with his fondling during the measuring process, and that I had thought that he was coming on to me in the cubicle. I had misjudged him and his actions, apparently, for which I was embarrassed and what happens now? (I got it all out in one breath.) He seemed intent upon writing it all down. Then he stood up, and said to me, “Show me what he did during the measuring process that made you think he was fondling you.” I was definitely reluctant to do this, but he was insistent. To make my case, I suppose, I did the re-enactment of his rubbing against my genitals and my ass, but I amplified and exaggerated the movements considerably, just so it could be understood that there was ample reason to think that the salesman had really been enticing me. The Security guy did not flinch, and encouraged me to repeat the actions a couple of times. He seemingly stepped out of character when he said, “Well, if that is what he was doing, it is no wonder you thought he was coming on to you, it is giving me a twitching hard-on.” Then he wanted to know more about my actions in the cubicle fitting room. He took me to a mock-up of the dressing room, and explained that the mock-up was used for the re-enactment of all sorts of accusations, usually for shoplifters and those who stole clothing. He told me to undress so that I was in the same condition of undress as when the event occurred. I did as told, and stripped, leaving my jockeys on. I told him I was ready, and he came inside. He stopped with the comment that he had understood that I was totally naked. I agreed that I had been. “So, drop the shorts,” he said, and I did. I could tell that my dick was on the rise, but there was no stopping it. He opened the door again, stepped inside the small mock-up cubicle, and closed the door. ‘OK, what happened next?” he asked. I leaned into him, maybe a bit less purposeful than with the young stud clerk, but I did lean into him. He accepted my action, then asked me if this is what prompted the guy to leave in a huff? I said that it was. He asked me to do it again, and I did. This time he also leaned into me, and his arms went around my body as he hugged me close and his lips met mine in a very lustful kiss. My dick left its semi-state and went to rock solid while we were locked into the kiss, passion now at the boiling point. His hand had found my cock, and that tingling demand of wanting to be played with was being satisfied by his fondling my cock and my balls. “This is what you wanted to happen, isn’t it?” And I said, “Oh yea, Man, oh yea!” as we clinched again, and this time with my hand finding his zipper and pulling out his awesome dick once I had the zipper down. His clothes were dropping quickly, and we staggered out of the mock-up cubicle and back into his office. In the darkness of his windowless office there in the basement, we had some of the wildest man-to-man sex that I had ever had, for most of that afternoon. His cock was a beauty, thick and long. He loved to have it sucked and he also loved to perform oral service. We became real suck-buddies over the next few months, spending a lot of time in his basement office where there was “Real Security.” Fantasies are never exactly quite what you think they might be, when they happen in reality. Write me at Dimens53@aol.com