The Dressing Room

I had a late lunch hour and decided to spend it at the mall. While wandering through the big department store, I found a display of 'European-style trunk' underwear. They were something like boxer-briefs but with short-short legs. The trunks reminded me of the bathing suit Daniel Craig wore in the latest James Bond movie, but this was definitely underwear, not a swimsuit. I had no idea how long these trunks had been selling in stores because my wife bought all my underwear for me. I was wearing one of her favorites that day -- red silk boxers.

There were two young men working in the men's clothing department, and one came over to assist me.

"With your abs, these trunks would look great on you. Is this your size? Would you like to try them on?"

I'd never heard of trying on underwear, and I had to snicker at the lengths salesmen paid on commission will go to make a sale. Still, I was interested in the trunks and I let him steer me toward the dressing room.

"I'll be right outside if you need anything," the salesman told me.

I slipped my shoes and trousers off and then removed my boxers. I stepped into the trunks, and I took a moment to arrange my cock and balls so they felt comfortable. It was strange having that stretchy material firmly holding my package after swinging free in my boxers.

The salesman softly spoke through the door, "Do you have them on? Are they the right size?"

I told him yes, and I was shocked to see the door open and him step into the dressing room. I thought I'd locked it.

"Let me hang these up for you," he said, as he picked up my trousers and boxers from the bench and placed them on the garment hook on back of the door. Then he reached around me and started unbuttoning my short-sleeved shirt. Really, it was like watching a sleight-of-hand artist -- he had my shirt opened before I fully realized what he was doing.

"See, those do look good on you. Your abs are fine."

His words made me look up at the mirror, and as I did he slipped the shirt off my shoulders. I'm standing there wearing only the trunks and my socks, and the young guy wolf-whistles, causing me to blush. He ran his hands around the waistband of the trunks, commenting on the good fit, and then he really freaked me out by touching my abs.

"You are in great shape."

I'm tall, but this young guy was taller. He had no problem looking over my shoulder at our reflection in the mirror. He was skinny, though. It's rare to see such a tall, slim guy in these days of super-sized value meals. He obviously approved of the condition I was in -- his hand moved up across my chest.

"Wow, I love your fur," he said, as his left hand roamed over my chest hair. His right hand slipped down to my thigh and stroked the hair there, too. I was turning red, but I wasn't pushing him away. It was a turn-on, having him admire my body that way, even better when his long, slender fingers slipped inside the trunks and wrapped around my balls.

Nobody but my wife and my physician had felt my balls before. And neither of them had whispered "So big, so warm, so full of spunk" in my ear as they played with my balls. Eventually, he pushed the trunks down so they were tucked under my balls, and he started stroking up and down on my now throbbing dick.

I've got a nice piece of meat, but the young guy made it sound stupendous.

"Ooh, you've got a big one," he cooed in my ear. "Firm and fat. I like that." He had one hand around my waist holding me tight against his chest and his other hand working my dick. I watched everything in the mirror, and it didn't take long for me to come. It was a hot scene, and I remember justifying it by thinking I was only bending my marriage vows, not breaking them.

The guy caught my come in his hand and then wiped it on the trunks.

"Oh, these are soiled," he exclaimed as he slid the trunks down my legs and nudged me to step out of them. "Let me get you another pair. Before I could catch my breath, he'd opened the dressing room door and left. It was only then that I noticed he had snatched my shirt, trousers, and boxers and ran out with them, too.

"Come back here," I yelled, and I started out after him until I saw the other young clerk watching me from the entrance to the dressing area. I jumped back into the dressing room in a panic. I wasn't going to run naked out into the department store, but I was trying to think of what I could do. It sure looked like a robbery because my wallet and cell phone were in my trouser pockets. I banged my head against the wall a couple times, accusing myself of being so stupid, and then I started pacing back and forth in the small dressing room. Three walls had mirrors and I could see my dick flop back and forth each time I turned. That's what got me in trouble -- my dick.

It seemed like forever, but I guess it wasn't long before the young guy stepped back into the dressing room and shut the door behind him.

"My wallet..." I started.

"Is safe with Troy," the guy said, "and he's keeping watch for us so we're safe back here."

I took that as a warning. His buddy was ready to assist him if I stepped out of line. I didn't feel safe, and it wasn't particularly reassuring when the guy firmly gripped my shoulders and turned me around to face the back mirror. He stepped right up behind me again, wrapping one hand around my chest and grabbing my balls with his other hand. It was so difficult to fight the electricity that shot through me when he did that, and frankly, I didn't manage to fight it. He had me under his control.

This time, his fingers roamed more, covered more skin, and pinched my nipples. He looked at me in the mirror and grinned, and I had to sort of smile back. He was good at what he was doing. I'd just come, and already my dick was starting to react, although I wasn't fully hard again. Yet. The young guy let his hands slide down over my hips and along my thighs as he knelt behind me. A gentle push of his hand on my back had me leaning against the mirror, and he buried his nose in my ass crack.

I'd never been rimmed before! What an awesome feeling. I couldn't believe he was doing it, and I worried whether I was clean back there. I must have been -- he didn't stop -- and I kept raising up on my toes as he forced his tongue further inside me. He was a tall kid, and it felt like he had a tongue to match. My palms were sweaty and they squeaked as they moved against the mirror -- my body jerking in reaction to the tickling inside my rectum.

It felt so good, but when he stopped it was almost a relief. It gave me a chance to catch my breath again. There was no doubt about me being turned on; my dick was fully erect now. I was panting for air when I looked at one of the side mirrors and saw what the guy was doing.

He wore a blazer and tie, and he'd dropped his trousers down around his ankles. He had just finished unrolling a condom over his long, thin dick. His dick was like one of those slightly curved, thin swords. And it looked just as dangerous. Dangerous, because I knew where it was headed and I didn't think I was in any position to stop him. "Just please don't let my wife find out about this," I thought. If he let me leave with any shred of dignity left intact, I mentally swore I wouldn't even call the police. Hell, I didn't want anyone to know I was about to be fucked.

The rimming was my only preparation. It hurt like hell when his dick breached my ass hole, and he didn't wait for me to recover. He just pushed on in, slowly but steadily, and I thought there was no end to it. Nothing had ever reached so far up inside me before. He stopped only to pull his shirttails up, and by then I realized he was fully sheathed inside me. I was afraid to move with a sword buried inside my gut.

"Look," he whispered, and I turned my head to look in the left mirror, seeing me hunched over and him tight against my ass. We looked into each other's eyes in the mirror, and I quickly dropped my eyes down. I watched his hand touch my now deflated dick.

"You were such a hot, hairy stud when you walked in here," he continued, "and now you're my woman!" With that, he quickly pulled back and then slid into me again. There was no rhythm to his motions yet, just a repeated taking of my ass. My world was reduced to that dressing room and his use of my most private part.

Soon, he was drilling me with rapid strokes. I was sweating and I suppose he was too. The heat built until he slammed into me, pushing my face into the mirrored wall. He leaned on my back as he panted and said, "I wish I could really fill you up with my seed." Then he pulled his dick out of my ass and I dropped to the floor and curled up like a baby.

I thought it was over then, until I heard a noise and I rolled onto my back, only to see the other young man, Troy, kneeling at my feet.

"Ah, that's the way I like it, too," Troy said, as he hoisted my legs over his shoulders and plugged his dick into me. Thank heavens Troy didn't go first, because his fat dick would have split my ass open without the other guy's preparation. Troy's dick might not have been as long, but I sure felt it. I knew without a doubt he was fucking my ass with a monster.

I needed no mirrors this time. Troy was on top of me and I could look right up at him as he fucked me. Sometimes he'd hiss through his clenched teeth as he pounded my ass. And being a man -- at least, I hoped I was still a man -- he showed no mercy as he used me. There was no tenderness as he took his pleasure from me.

Whether Troy meant to or not, however, he was giving me something. His dick repeatedly poked my prostate. And I loved it and hated it when my dick started pulsing and come shot out over my belly. No one was even touching it at the time! How could it betray me like that, spurting just from having a man's dick up my ass? The humiliation was total, but the orgasm was just as satisfying as any I'd had with my wife.

I don't know how much longer it took for Troy to come. I zoned out a little, although I was aware when he shouted, "Take it, bitch!" I had my eyes closed when he pulled his dick out of me, and I just barely registered hearing him zip his trousers and leave. I didn't open them again until I heard noise in the dressing room, and then I saw that the first guy had come back and was kneeling beside me.

He put his hand in the come on my belly and started rubbing it all over my chest and pubes and down my thighs. His hand came up dry, but I was now covered in a thin layer of my own come.

"I brought you some fresh underwear," the guy said, and he proceeded to slip a small, white thong over my feet and up my legs. He stood up and pulled me up, and he finished tugging the thong into place. There was hardly any material to it, and it was just a thin, stretchy nylon. It was almost see-through and it barely held my dick and balls. Fabric not much wider than a string ran up my butt crack to meet with the band around my hips.

He left, closing the door, and I saw my shirt and trousers were again hanging on the back of the door. No wallet. I got dressed and walked out to find the two young men standing behind the sales counter. They'd rung up a dozen pairs of the European-style trunks and charged it to one of my credit cards. I gritted my teeth as I signed the charge slip.

As Troy bagged my 'purchases', the other guy pointed to the breast pocket on his blazer and said, "How do you like my pocket square?" He'd taken my red silk boxers and folded them in his pocket like a handkerchief. I nodded, in recognition of his trophy for taking my ass. Then he handed me his business card and said, "We have a home shopping service, too, if you'd care to use it."