More out of lack of ambition and the need to get out of the office for a while, I walked into Jeremy's, the clothing store near my office to see what was around. As it is a designer outlet store, sometimes you find wonderful clothes and sometimes you don't find anything.
I'd been sort of dumped earlier that day, by Instant Messenger, by a guy who is intelligent, witty, and has nice abs. He'd been consistent all through our relationship, so while it wasn't a total surprise he was moving on, it was still disappointing.
I was poking around the clothes, seeing what was new, what was affordable, and what would look good on me. I'd taken a late lunch, and the store wasn't very crowded.
After looking at some dress shirts and suit jackets, I began working my way through another rack. The store had received a shipment of Ralph Lauren Purple Label clothes from somewhere and was trying to move them.
After going through the polo shirts, I can across this shiny purple turtleneck. The material was stretchy and sexy and while it was brighter than I would normally wear, I wanted to try it on instantly after I saw it was my size.
Back to the red velvet curtained changing stalls, I took off my shirt and wrestled the turtleneck on. It literally fit like a glove. My nipples were standing up and I was glad I had shaved my chest that morning.
"So this is how it feels to be on the Italian National (soccer) Team," I thought, as I ran my hands over my abs and up to my pecs.
"How does it look?"
I looked in the mirror and then turned in fear, thinking someone had been watching me; before I could think, I poked my head out of the stall and saw this guy, talking to someone else in another stall.
He saw my red hair flash out of the stall, eyed my shirt, and smiled at me. I smiled back, he was CUTE. About my height (I'm 5-10) with nice brown hair, lithe, wearing a not too tight black shirt and black pants. His shirt hinted at a nice chest and there was no hair peaking out of his collar, which I liked.
He looked at me, said something to the person he had been talking with, and walked over to my stall.
"Let me see," he said in his oh so sexy British accent.
I was nervous, but stepped out for his inspection.
"Nice," he said. "Purple is your color."