Was our usual. I'd meet Ujomo (Ujo for short) downtown and we'd spend the day together. He lived in the Bronx. I lived in Philadelphia. We lived separately and had separate lives, but were married. It'd been almost two years since the nuptials but this wasn't your average situation. He was African and been in the U.S. for a few years now. A mutual friend introduced us under the circumstances that Ujo needed something. I was in need of something too; money.
We'd arranged this mutual situation almost three and a half years ago and so far, things had worked out perfectly. He'd be well on his way to being a proud citizen and I had the financial help that I'd desperately needed at the time.
He liked me and I knew it. I found him to be sweet and sincere, but having my own life meant I had my own lover. My personal life I kept extremely separate from the business we shared. But he knew. And my lover knew of him, but was never threatened, not that there was reason to be. To make a complicated story, short and sweet; I preferred pussy over dick...usually. On occasion, I craved the real thing...but never with Ujo - mixing business and pleasure has a way of making things messy, and I needed this palette to stay clean.
We met at a small cafe and shared breakfast. I'd always found Ujo to be a decent-looking guy. I mean, he kept himself up, was a nice medium build, had adapted a pretty unique style and kept up with his grooming. When we talked, he made sure to give me eye contact. I mean, really listen. He'd often say that he thought I was special and that he felt deeper feelings for me. I'd politely shy away from delving too deep into the convo and remind him that our focus should be on the business aspect of our agreement. He'd nod his head.
On this visit, we planned on shopping for business suits. He was starting a business with a friend of his and they were going to be traveling to meet potential clients and investors. He wanted an upgrade to his wardrobe so we headed to the mall to do just that.
Once there, I grabbed four or five pieces and made him go try them on. I waited patiently as he stumbled out in one of the suits. It was grey; what they call a 'slender suit'. The blazer fit perfectly, but the pants seemed too tight, which drew my attention immediately to the large suffocating bulge in the crotch. I had to stop myself from staring. I looked up at him, he looked at me.
"Too small," we said, almost in unison.
"I'll, um, look for a larger size." I said, before turning slowly. He nodded his head and headed back into the dressing room.
As I searched, I couldn't help but recall the image of his suffocating dick in my head. I'd noticed before. Had casually glanced on other occasions and noted that he'd probably be packing just from the bump in the normal jeans he wore. Even then, what he'd been blessed with was pretty apparent. I'd be lying if I didn't say that a part of me wasn't curious. But as soon as the thoughts crept, I dismissed them.
I managed to find another pair, a size above the ones he had. I took them back over and handed them to him. He came out with another suit on. This one was better; however, because of the "slim fit" no matter what, his package was a main attraction. He looked in the mirror; was happy with what he saw. I looked him up and down, trying not to linger at his crotch, but I was a little turned on.
"Um, try on the other one again."
He went back into the dressing room, while I looked at ties. When he came out, this one was better. To his liking. I thought they were still a little tight, even though buttoned and zipped. I started to realize he probably needed another size just for his crotch alone.
"I like this. They feel good."
