Miles was actually pretty excited. Even though he didn't really want to go shopping, he knew he was going to enjoy himself. His Dad, Terry, was going all out to get him a business suit, and it might be an opportunity to at least get some nice shoes. Even better, though, his Step-Mom, Flo, had promised him a surprise! He had been fucking his gorgeous, petite Step-Mom for some time now, filling and covering her with his virile, young cum at every opportunity. He had a feeling that the surprise would be sexy, at least.
The three were driven to the mall in Terry's company limo, and Terry immediately ushered his son into the tailor's shop. The floor was busy with be-suited men and women. Suits, jackets and pants of all styles and colours hung from every inch of wall space. There were even a few that caught Miles' eye.
"This is what I brought you here for, Miles. We'll make a man of you yet!" Terry puffed up proudly. "They know me here, so we should be taken good care of."
"'Ello there sir, come to 'ave some alterations done, 'ave we?" A brash, high pitched English voice pierced the air, making Terry jump. A small round lady with a measuring tape and some pins in her blouse was stood behind them. She smiled innocently.
"How dare you!" Terry bellowed. "Show a little respect." he peered at her badge pinned to her large bosom. "Lindsey, do you know who I am?"
Miles winced at his father's abuse of the woman.
"'Arry seemed to think you was worthwhile. 'E says there's no slots available with your usual tailor, but I can 'elp you if it suits yer."
She smiled pleasantly. She reminded Miles of a warm, round bakers wife, or a plump little mother in a cartoon movie. Nobody could be angry with this woman, not for long anyway.
Terry tried his best, though.
"Mr. Anthony had better try to free up some time with Antoine, or I shall take my business elsewhere!"
The woman, Lindsey, retained the matronly smile, but a challenge shone darkly in her eyes.
"'Arry likes you, which is why 'e sent 'is very own wife to look after you, sir." She paused momentarily, watching as a shocked Terry took this in. "If you want to take your business elsewhere, well that's your business, but I can assure you that our work is of the very best quality, and I know that because I check over every single item myself. Toni is on 'oliday right now, which you would 'ave known if you'd phoned ahead, but since you didn't, I'm the one who trained 'im, and if you please, I can show you why 'es as good as 'e is."
She didn't look at all flustered, and hadn't raised her voice at all, but Terry looked like a scolded schoolboy. He looked, for a moment, like he had something to say, but then his shoulders sagged, and he realised that he had lost this argument.
"My son," he mumbled, before straightening himself. "My son is looking for a business suit," he said more clearly. "One which will get him respect!"
"It's the man who earns respect, sir, not the clothes on 'is back," the little round lady replied, "but we'll see what we can do. Do you need anything for yourself, sir? Since you're a valued customer, we'll do your alterations for free."
"This suit is a perfect fit, Antoine fitted it only a month ago."
"I shall 'ave to speak to 'im about that, so I will. Now come on, we'll get you put right." She ushered him toward the measuring booth, calling back, "you 'ave a look round, son. See if there's any take your fancy."
"Thanks," he called back. He couldn't help but laugh at the way his Dad, company CEO, had been chewed out and now manhandled by this matronly figure.
Poor Dad, he thought, he's not having any luck today.
Suits, suits and more suits. Miles didn't know where to start with suits. He tried to look for the kind of thing his Dad would like him to wear, but the stuffy, grey business suits just didn't excite him. He wanted something with flair!
There were a few more stylish ones, narrow collars, silk sown in, red and blue and black. He knew that these were not the ones that his father wanted him to choose, but they were the ones that he liked. He went over to look at a bright red suit with a mandarin collar, the type Bruce Lee wore in Enter the Dragon.
"Red suits portray power, and they get attention," said the motherly Lindsey, suddenly right at his back. "This one's a bit loud, but there's one 'ere that's a lovely scarlet. I'll put it aside for you to try, and the black pinstripe, it'll look good on a tall fella like you."
"What about this one?" Miles picked up the sleeve of a navy blue suit with a shawl collar.
"Blue's not for you, son. You want to take command, don't you?" She smiled. "No, a power suit. You'll make it work."
She looked him up and down, and nodded to herself.
"I'll be done with your Dad in a few minutes. Fi! Come 'ere, will you?" She called over to a young woman, about 22. She was dressed in a blue pinstriped suit, with a tight pencil skirt and black 4 inch heels.
"This is Fi, she'll 'elp you pick out shoes." She turned to the cute, grinning Fi. "You don't mind, do you duck?" Now that she was closer, Miles could get a better look. She wasn't thin, but thinner than Lindsey, maybe a size 16, with big tits and a cheeky grin.
"Not at all, aunt Linz. What suit's he picked?"
"The scarlet Valentino, and the black pinstriped Dolce," She hollered back.
"Nice choices. Black shoes for the back suit, Brown for the red." She smiled, looking him up and down. She was taller than the English lady too, but not close to his size. "What size?"
"Fourteen," he laughed, "you probably don't have any."
"We should do. But let's just measure to make sure. You'd be surprised how many people are wearing the wrong size shoes."
She led him along the length of the store, hips swaying provocatively. Despite her figure, she was a sexy girl, and, as the passed the measuring booths, Miles found himself watching the hypnotic swing of her luscious, round ass.
"Here we are," she said, breaking the spell. She turned and sat on a low bench, putting her face at his crotch level. He imagined himself unzipping right there and stuffing his cock into her mouth.
She reached under the bench and pulled out a foot measuring guide.
"Hmm, this one only goes to twelve. Hang on, I'm sure there's one." With that she climbed off the seat and started to look under it. Her full, round ass, with the blue pencil skirt covering it, was thrust in the air. Miles though about copping a feel, but knew that would only lead to trouble.
She sat back on her haunch, hefting a big wooden block with a couple of sliders on it and told him to sit on the bench. The bench was low, like a child's seat. He felt a bit foolish with his knees up so high, but she didn't take any notice.
"Take off your, umm," she looked at the shoe size guide, "right shoe, and we'll see what we've got."
Now that she was on her knees looking at him, he noticed her ears. The stuck right out through her dark hair. They weren't big, but all the same, he could imagine using them as handles while her fucked her throat. He hoped she was a little slut.
She took his foot and placed it on the measure, moving the sliders until they touched his toes and the side of his foot.
"See," she beamed, "according to this, you're a 15! You're shoes are too small."
"Really? They feel ok to me."
"I bet it feels good to het them off, though."
"Well, yeah, but-"
"There you go, then. I think they're probably too narrow, too. You're an E, which is pretty wide. Wait here, I'll bring you a few pairs."
He watched her swaying hips as she walked off.
"Lindsey showed me what you picked out." His father's voice startled him. He looked back and saw the red faced man strolling towards him. "I'd have preferred you got something a bit more businesslike, but she assured me that they would look more reserved once you put them on." He didn't look convinced.
"Which one did you prefer?" Miles asked, amiably.
"Neither." Terry answered, tersely. He sat down next to his son. He sighed heavily. "Have to admit, though, she does good work." It had obviously been hard to say. Not much for praise, eh Dad.
