Part 4
Monday was a positively normal day at work, thank goodness. I needed some normalcy in my life at the moment. Monday night was equally quiet. Tuesday seemed to be going along the same lines as Monday, thankfully, until mid afternoon when I got a text from Amy informing me that we "had to go shopping tonight". I had no idea what it was we were shopping for, or why, but I suspected that I'd find out soon enough. My time with Amy could be described as anything but normal, but I guess that is more a discomfort than a complaint. I was really enjoying my time with Amy, age difference and all, even if she managed push my boundaries to and beyond the breaking point at times.
So, it wasn't much of a surprise to have Amy stop by shortly after I got home from work to "collect" me. She was secretive about our destination, but it was pretty clear to me once we were on the road that we were headed to the big city, a bit over an hour away. Fortunately our trip included a stop at a fast food joint for some dinner and then back on the road. She pulled into a small western apparel shop on the south side of the city, giving me my first hint about what we were even going shopping for.
"Here we are," she said brightly.
"Western wear?"
"Oh yeah. I'm quite sure you don't have anything remotely Western in your closet, and, well, I never turn down a new dress."
"I see. So you get a dress and I get?"
"Jeans, boots, shirt," she said with a grin.
"And I want to wear Western why?"
"Because tomorrow night I'm taking you dancing."
"And I presume it's Western dancing?"
"It is lover. You haven't ever done Western line dancing, have you?"
"Not even close!" I agreed with a chuckle.
"Then this'll be a new experience. Hopefully a fun one. But you gotta dress the part."
"So, I have to buy a whole new outfit?"
"Tell you what. You buy my dress and I'll buy your outfit," she said with a grin.
"Okay. It's a deal," I agreed.
"Good. Let's go shop!" she said, opening her car door and starting to climb out. I climbed out as well, following her to the door of the shop and in. The building was stuffed with rack after rack of Western jeans, shirts, skirts, dresses, shelves of boots and hats. Pretty much anything anyone could imagine that a real cowboy or a city cowboy or girl, would need.
"May I help you?" a young blonde girl asked us as Amy flipped through a rack of men's jeans.
"Yes. I need a full outfit for my boyfriend," Amy said as she looked at the young woman in a rather short, snug fitting Western dress, boots and hat.
"Sure, do you want to start with pants, or would you like to do shirts?
"Well, pants probably."
"Fine. What size? He looks like about a thirty-two waist, maybe a thirty-four long?"
"Actually, that's pretty much exactly what size I usually wear," I answered her.
"Well, do you want something durable, or more dressy?" she asked.
"Well, we're going to the Circle Bar S tomorrow," Amy told her.
"Ohhhhhh. I see. Well, in that case," the young lady said, turning to lead us towards another rack of pants. "I'd suggest these," she added, pulling a pair off the rack. "Would you like to go try them on?"
"Yeah, sure," I answered, taking the pants from her. They looked like regular denim but were softer than I expected for pants that I'd wear out in the woods.
"Okay, this way," she said, leading the way to a group of dressing rooms on the back wall of the store. She pushed the curtain aside and let me walk in. "I'll be right here if you need anything," she said, closing the curtain slowly, her eyes clearly appraising me from head to toe, feeling almost like she was undressing me.
"Yeah, sure," I answered, shaking my head slightly. I wondered what the Circle Bar whatever had to do with shopping and why she suddenly seemed much more interested in what was in my pants than me putting them on.
I took my slacks off and wiggled into the snug denim, the material almost molding to my thighs and butt as I pulled 'em on. My thighs were always a little larger than average, presumably from all the hiking I do, but this was tight even for my "normal" fit. "These seem a bit tight," I called through the curtain.
The curtain pulled aside, Amy and the salesgirl both standing in front of it as I tried to pull the front of the pants closed over my boxers. "They are supposed to be snug," the salesgirl said, reaching out to run a hand over my ass as I turned to face away from her, my pants still open in front.