Date: Tue, 4 Aug 2009 01:44:23 +0000
From: Rob Richards <robr7@hotmail.com>
Subject: Private Shopping at Leather Male

Private Shopping at Leather Male in Chicago

Don't read this story if you don't want to read about sex between adult
men.

This is a true story, from many years ago; I've only changed a few personal
details for privacy's sake. I already had a fascination with skimpy Speedos
and sexy underwear, but this experience cemented it for life. Feel free to
email me with comments (Robr7@hotmail.com) if you like, or write with
similar experiences if something like this has happened to you (similar
things have happened to me over and over again -- hmm, maybe it's me.)

I was a bi married man, age 30, and had just dropped my family off in
Chicago, so they could head east for a visit to the in-laws. I spent the
night, then had to drive back to St. Louis that next day. I had known about
Leather Male, a gay-run clothing shop in Chicago, for some time, but I
don't remember how I found out about it -- probably some gay magazine (this
was long before we could find things like this on the Internet -- something
like 1985).  I was in good shape -- I'm a swimmer, and I lifted weights for
some bulk.  I had phoned the shop a few days before, to get their address
and directions to get there. Everything was set -- I was going to
California in a few weeks, and was going to look for a "California suit," a
Speedo that I imagined was available in Chicago but not pokey old
St. Louis, a tiny little suit that I could wear on the sunny Southern
California beaches, to show off my bod and get a tan.

 I took off, supposedly for St. Louis, around 9 from the Northside, and got
to the shop around 10. Parked across the street, got out, and went up to
the door -- locked. The sign says they opened at noon! `Shit,' I thought to
myself, ` I forgot to ask when they opened. What am I going to do now?'

I sat in the car for a few minutes, stewing, and then saw a man come out of
the front door of the shop, with a trash can in his hands. He walked down
the sidewalk to the alley, and emptied the trash into a dumpster, then
started walking back. I got out of the car and nearly sprinted across the
street.

"Excuse me, but do you work in there?" I asked.

"Yeah, why?" he said.

"Well, I called a few days ago and got directions to here -- I'm from out
of town, and was going to come by and shop for some stuff, but I didn't
realize you don't open until 12, and the problem is I have to drive back
home today, to St. Louis, and well, I was hoping ..." and I trailed off.

The guy sized me up, then smiled and said, "Hey, no problem, why don't you
come on in. You're right, we don't really open until 12, but since it's
just you, and you have to drive and all, well hell, just come on in."

"Thanks!" I sighed. "I've really been looking forward to this -- I was
hoping to find some stuff that I just can't find at home, and well..." I
probably sounded stupid, like a little kid.

"Don't worry, just come on in." And we went inside. The shop was still
fairly dark, and he said "I'm gonna keep most of the lights off, so nobody
else thinks we're open, if that's all right. And, don't panic or anything,
but I gotta lock the front door again too -- it's against fire regulations
and everything, but I don't want people just walking in." And then he
looked at me again, and smiled real big. "Besides, it looks like it might
be fun, being locked up in here with you for awhile." And then he laughed,
to put me at ease.

"Well, yeah!", I replied. "I hope it's fun too!"

"OK, " he said. "Leather stuff is over here, t shirts and pants over there,
underwear and swimsuits there, and exotic stuff is back over here. Just
help yourself -- get anything you want, and the changing room is right over
there. Gimme a call if you can't find anything, or if you need any help,
ok?" And he headed over to the cash register, to continue getting ready for
the business day.

"OK," I said. "I was hoping to find a Speedo, maybe a smaller one than I
can find in St. Louis. You got anything like that?"

"Sure, here lemme show you," he replied. And he led me to the swimsuits,
then turned around and sized me up. "I'd guess you're a 32 waist, am I
right?"

"Yeah," I said. "32."

"Nice trim waist for a guy your height," he added. "OK, here's what we've
got -- the regular Speedo, pretty tame if you ask me, so let's forget that
one. Then there's their European cut, higher on the leg, and then this one,
it's pieced, that is, 5 separate pieces of fabric sewn together, makes for
a nice pouch in front, and see how nice and high it rides here on the
leg. OK, here's some 32s in these two styles, why don't you take `em over
to the changing room, and I'll get the light turned on for you.

And again I followed him. The changing room was dark -- he hit the switch,
and there was a full length mirror, and a curtain that could be drawn for
privacy. I started pulling my clothes off, then wondered if I should really
pull the curtain -- after all, it was just this guy and me, and he'd been
nice enough to let me in before opening time. Not knowing, I went ahead and
pulled it halfway shut. About the time I had pulled the first Speedo on,
the European one, he pulled the curtain open -- he had another handful of
suits with him. He said "Hmm, well, that one's pretty conservative too --
doesn't do your body justice. Try the pieced one and let me see -- I'll be
right back."

And he turned to leave, leaving the curtain open -- so I left it open
too. I pulled the first suit off, and put on the tiny, pieced Speedo -- had
just gotten it pulled up and in place when he returned with yet more suits
in his hands.

"Yeah, that's much better. Here, come over to the stage and you can see
better."

The stage? What was he talking about? I followed him out of the changing
room, around the corner, and there was a raised area, probably 8 X 8, with
mirrors on 3 sides, literally a stage. I climbed the two stairs and stood
in the middle -- and then he hit the light switch, and I was bathed in
warm, glowing light. I could see every cut in my muscled body, and every
seam and curve in the pieced Speedo.

He climbed the stairs and joined me on the stage. "See," he said, as he
pointed to the suit. "This does a good job of showing you off. You have a
nice flat belly, great six pack abs, and a nice tight ass," and he turned
me by the shoulders so I could see my ass in the mirror. "See how this suit
hugs your butt, but doesn't mash it down?" And his hand lightly brushed my
butt, as if demonstrating. "And see how the waist dips down just a little
bit in front, like your heavy dick is pulling the pouch down? That's a good
fit -- makes everyone think you're packing some serious heat down there!"
And he smiled that big generous smile as he gave a brief, gentle pat at my
crotch!

"Yeah," I said, smiling too. "I like it -- like the way it fits. And," and
I stammered a bit, I guess out of embarrassment, "I like the part about
packing serious heat too." And we both laughed.


"OK," he said finally. "Brought some more for you to try -- here." And he
thrust about 4 more suits into my hands, then walked off. I didn't know
exactly what to do -- go back to the changing room, stay on the stage?
Decided the changing room was better -- so I went back and changed into the
first one, then came back to the stage to see it. `Nah,' I thought, not as
good as the Speedo. Trekked back to the changing room to change into the
second one, and realized that the back and forth was just too much trouble
-- so brought the rest of them back with me to the stage, and just stood
there and changed into the rest. Figured, what the hell, it's just me and
this guy, nobody else in the darkened store -- so who cares if I'm up on
the stage, stripping naked in front of all those mirrors. And anyway, I
looked pretty good in those mirrors! At some point, I realized that my
friend was there by the stage, watching the show -- I looked over at him,
with my expression saying "come on, say something."

"OK, here's what I'm thinking," he said, again with the smile. "First, that
pieced Speedo is the best one for you -- gives me a hard-on seeing you in
it." And he licked his lips, maybe unintentionally. Then he went on. "And
second, I'm thinking that maybe you might want to try some of the other
things we have here -- cuz man, you'd look hot in some of the things we've
got, and I know you'd like trying them on, seeing yourself in them. And
third, honestly, I'd like seeing you in them, even if you don't think you
want to get them later on."

"Things like what?" I asked, my cock notching up a bit more.

"Well, here, let me show you while you get out of that last suit -- just
toss it over there in the pile. I'll put `em away later."

He was back in no time at all, with some black shorts and what appeared to
be swimsuits -- some with buckles, some with zippers. Some were thongs,
some were sheer, some had stripes down the side. I noticed that he'd
unbuttoned his shirt, and was barefooted by now, which somehow seemed right
since I was standing on a fully lit stage, bare-assed naked, and my cock
was about half hard from the excitement. Plus, as he had surely noticed, I
was starting to get into this scene -- this hot man catering to me and my
obsession with skimpy swimsuits, putting me on a stage with mirrors all
around, flattering my body, touching me ever so lightly, commenting on my
build -- it was getting supercharged.

We started with a sheer pair of shorts -- looked hot, but not really my
style. A fishnet thong -- I liked how my dick showed through the fishnet,
and so did he, and he pointed out how hot my butt looked with the black
strap going down my crack. He could tell I was starting to chub up, and
when I bounced around some when I pulled the thong off he laughed softly,
then said "God, don't you love a hard-on?" And then he answered his own
question -- "Me too!" And he laughed again.

And then he said, "Here, let's give these a try."  A pair of short shorts,
thin black nylon, with a lace-up front. I pulled them on, then tied the
laces, but got them too tight -- so I looked up, and said "Uh, maybe you
can help me a little with the laces? I'm getting them all bunched up."

"Sure, I'd love to help -- and see, I was right -- you are packing heat
down there!" he said. And he came up close, then got down on his knees, so
his face was only inches from my crotch. First he untied the laces, and
loosened them, the readjusted the material of the shorts -- his hand
couldn't help brushing against my crotch, of course. Then he slowly laced
them up again, and tied the bow. Then he patted the whole package, and
backed off so I could see in the mirror -- and by now I was almost
completely hard, my cock poking the fabric out.

"That's one of the great things about these shorts," he added. "There's
room to grow -- if you grow too much, just loosen the laces." And he
beamed, as his face got closer to my crotch again, his breath hot against
the front of the shorts. "But we have an even better little something for
that condition -- you gotta try these."

And he reached behind him and got a black swimsuit, handed it to me, and
had me strip out of the shorts and pull the swimsuit on. As I pulled it on,
I realized that it had two nylon zippers, one down the center in the front,
and one down the center in the back. I looked up at him, with what was
surely an evil smile on my face. "So what's the condition that these take
care of exactly?"

"Here," he said, "let me show you." And he stood up, facing me, and stood
very close. "But first, would you mind if I get as comfortable as you?"

"No, I think you should," I replied. "In fact, here, let me help you." And
I reached over and pulled his shirt from his shoulders, then undid his belt
and the button on his jeans -- he took care of the rest, pulling his jeans
down, standing there in front of me in a black mesh thong. The precum had
completely wetted through the mesh in front, and he was as hard as I was --
so I reached over and felt his dick through the wet material. He groaned
and pushed closer to me. And then he spoke again.

"We often find ourselves in just this position -- hard, but trapped inside
whatever we're wearing. But if a guy is wearing that suit that you have on,
he's got a solution -- just unzip, and he's ready for action," he whispered
to me, as I continued to fondle his cock through the wet black mesh.

"Can you show me how it works?" I responded, in fake curiosity, pretending
to need a lesson, knowing full well that he wanted to show me.

"I'd love to demonstrate it for you," he replied, as he again licked his
lips. And he sank to his knees again, and slowly, gently, pulled on the
zipper tab, pulling it down, careful not to catch anything as it descended,
and continued to pull it until my completely hard dick sprang free. He
immediately swallowed my cock into his warm, juicy mouth, and started
sucking it deep inside. Ahhh -- ah, what a talented, experienced mouth. He
backed off, and licked up and down my shaft, moaning as he licked the head,
his tongue doing circles, then going down on me again all the way. As he
sucked me, his hands went around to my ass, and his fingers slowly pulled
down the zipper in back, until my entire ass crack was exposed too, and
then with both hands he massaged my ass. One finger probed my ass, going
down further and further, until it finally hit my asshole. He felt my
pucker quivering, starting to open up to his finger. While still swallowing
my dick, he pulled his hand back around, and jammed his hand into his own
crotch, lubing his fingers with his precum. And then he gobbled my dick
down his throat even further as his finger entered my ass. Aw, I was in
heaven -- my Leather Male man was sucking my dick and finger fucking my ass
-- on stage, no less! It couldn't have taken long, I was so turned on -- I
came big time -- I spewed buckets of cum down his throat while he sucked,
feeling my cock deep inside his mouth and his finger all the way up my
ass. And when I finally came down from that incredible high, I looked down
and saw that he'd cum buckets too -- his mesh thong was soaked with white
cum, as was the floor of our little stage. He reached down, scooped up some
of his cum, and rubbed it all over his stomach and chest, while I kissed
his face gently.

I bought the pieced Speedo, of course, and the short shorts, and a couple
of other things. He gave me a couple of tank tops at half price -- said
they would look good on me. And he insisted that I take the zipper suit as
a gift -- said that any time I was in Chicago, I had to come by for another
private shopping spree. I kept them on -- put my jeans on over them, and
one of the tank tops, and he walked me out to the car. He got in on the
passenger side for a couple of minutes. And after he checked to make sure
no one was around, he unfastened my jeans, unzipped the suit, and leaned
over and gave my dick another few licks. I ditched the jeans and tank top,
and told him I'd drive home to St. Louis just wearing the zipper suit --
with my dick hanging out. And I did (which surprised -- and pleased -- the
hell out of the hot hitchhiking college boy I picked up a while later. But
that's another story.)