Gay male sex story – The suit maker

Gay male sex story – The suit maker

As a Dalal Street (Share Market) attorney, I have to dress the part. Believe me, if it was up to me, I’d wear jeans and polo shirts all day everyday.

Please let me introduce my self. My name is Karan Dave. I am 30 years old and just 6 feet in height. I have black hair which I keep short to maintain my professional appearance, and I have green eyes. I keep in shape by working out probably three times a week, plus a good run on weekends when I can find the time. At 75 kgs, I keep myself in pretty buff condition. I have a light swatch of hair across my chest which I keep well groomed. Oh yes, I definitely like to take good care of my body. My job and salary give me ample opportunity.

Anyway, I finally decided that it was time for a new suit. I had been recommended to a place in Kolkata that sold good quality imported suits and offered tailoring on the premises. Since my waist was significantly trimmer then my broad muscular shoulders, I almost always had to have a suit off the rack custom tailored to fit me. Finding the suit was not a problem. The older sales gentleman helping me suggested a couple of suits which all looked fine, but of course the fit just wasn’t right. I settled on two suits that were known as professional/athletic fits that I really liked a dark grey one and a dark blue one. I had arrived at the shop after work and knew that they would be closing shortly. I was escorted along with the two suits that I had just purchased to a back area that had a few changing rooms as well as a larger central room surrounded in mirrors with a small platform in the middle, clearly set up for trying on clothes while looking at oneself in the mirrors from different angles.

The salesman directed me to the platform while he hung the suits on a rack nearby.

“Aslam? Aslam? You back there?” the salesman called out.

I heard some activity coming from the back and soon enough a young man came out. He looked like a kid from high school. What gives, I thought?

“Aslam, this is Mr. Dave. He just purchased these two suits and he needs them altered to fit his body. He’s very important and needs to look sharp,” the salesman explained, giving me a quick wink as if to say he gave me a proper introduction.

At that very moment, another gentleman walked into the fitting area. Both Aslam and the salesman stood up straight. It was the store manager. “I’m going to close up the shop now,” he began. “Will that cause a problem for anyone?” the manager asked.

I spoke up first. “I don’t mind coming back in a day or so. I know I took a while to find what I wanted and your salesman was very helpful,” I offered, resulting in a broad smile from the salesman nodding his head towards me in appreciation of my comment.

“Oh no, no sir! The tailor and the fitting area are on a different schedule. Our most excellent tailor here comes in an hour later and leaves an hour later precisely for a situation like this one,” the store manager explained.

The salesman and the manager and Aslam, the young tailor spoke for a minute and decided that the salesman would leave now with the manager and anyone else in the front of the store while I was measured and fitted. The final altered suits would be ready later in the week. I asked again if they preferred that I leave now but was assured that this was a normal procedure. Soon enough, I heard people leaving and the store got quiet while Aslam looked at the suits I had just purchased.

“Are we ready to begin Mr. Dave?” Aslam asked.

“Only if you promise to call me Karan,” I insisted.

Aslam smiled quickly. “Yes sir,” he replied, followed by “I mean Karan,” Aslam said, correcting himself.

Aslam took out a tape measure and measured from my hip to my shoe with the pants I was wearing, pushing aside the suit jacket I still had on. “Just want an idea of how you usually wear your trousers sir, I mean Karan,” Aslam explained.

“Aslam, I just have to ask you this and please don’t be offended, but how old are you? I’m sure you must be pretty qualified working in such a fashionable store, but you took me by surprise when you first walked out,” I explained.

“No problem at all,” Aslam began. “Most people ask me that question. I’m actually 24 and have studied in fashion school right after high school. I have a degree in design and expert tailoring. I work here part time while helping out in the design department of a famous menswear designer,” he went on to explain.

“I am impressed. Wow!” I offered.

Aslam looked up at me with a grin. “And for what its worth, you can’t be much older then me, so why is such a young guy buying such expensive suits?” he asked, glancing at one of the price tags on the sleeve of one of the suits I had just purchased.

I laughed back. “Just turned 30, for the record, and I am an attorney downtown. I’m in court a lot so I need the killer shark look,” I said, laughing. It was surprising how comfortable I had become so quickly with this kid, I mean guy, I thought to myself.

“Well,” Aslam began, “Sounds like we’re both doing just fine, but I need you out of the suit you’re wearing and into this one,” he explained, handing me the grey suit as he stole a glance at his watch.

I immediately felt bad keeping him late at work on my account. “I really am okay if we do this another day. I certainly wouldn’t want to keep such a promising fashion star late if you have some opening to go to,” I offered.

“No, really its fine. A former friend wanted to meet me but I really don’t care if I do,” he answered, looking up at me with a smile.

“An old boyfriend?” I asked, assuming that he was gay being in the fashion industry.

Aslam looked at me quickly, his eyes wide. “What?!”

Why did I say that? “Oh, I’m sorry, that was wrong of me to make that assumption,” I said making my apology.

Aslam giggled at my awkwardness. “No, that’s okay. I’m not Gay, I’m not anything to be honest. No relationships at all! I am busy 24/7. Plus, I deal with naked men and women so often in fashion shows and fittings and design and such that I don’t even look and sadly don’t even react anymore,” he explained.

“And you?” he asked with a sly grin.

“Me what? Am I gay you mean,” I answered with a slight blush.

“No, are you in a relationship?” Aslam asked innocently enough.

Now it was my turn to offer a reassuring smile back. 24/7 here too. Between college and law school and 70 hour work weeks, I barely have time for myself. I just finished a series of big cases so my workload is lighter these days, allowing me to do all the things I haven’t been able to do for months,” I said. “But no social life!” I added.

“Too bad,” Aslam said. “Take this suit into a dressing room and lets see what we need to do,” he directed while giving me the pants and jacket. I immediately took off my own jacket and folded it over a nearby chair. I then kicked off my shoes and took off my belt.

“Don’t you want the changing room?” Aslam asked, surprised to see that I had started to remove my suit in front of him.

“Well, first off its just us two guys here,” I began, “And second, since you’re apparently a fashion expert who has seen it all, what do I have to lose,” I said, causing him to blush when I gave him such high praise. In any event, I soon stood before him in my shirt and undershirt, still wearing a tie, with my black boxer briefs and socks. I slipped on the new suit pants and was about to grab the jacket before Aslam stopped me. “No jacket yet,” he ordered. “And I need you back in your shoes please,” he added.

With the pants on, along with the shoes, I stepped back on to the platform. Aslam walked towards me and then around me looking me over, or at least looking at how the pants fit me. For the first time I felt self conscious being looked at so closely by this kid, this guy. He had wavy blond hair, cut kind of short but long enough for him to style it somewhat. His fair skin showed off his piercing dark blue eyes. He appeared to be my height, but a bit slimmer. The dark blue shirt and matching tie he wore were obviously fitted, because it showed off his firm shoulders and flat stomach. My guess was that if he had any free time, he would have been swimming at the local gym. His dark slacks also looked tailored, with a very trim fit. On his feet, a surprise of white tennis shoes. Probably the fashion expert in him yelling out for a touch of style, I thought, laughing to my self.

“What’s so funny?” Aslam asked me, clearly reading my facial expression as I was looking him over.

“I just love the tennis shoes!” I offered, causing him to blush with the realization that I was looking him over at the same time.

Aslam walked over, a piece of marking chalk in his hand. “Since you apparently have no ass,” Aslam began, “I’ll need to take in the back of the pants quite a bit. But excuse my grasp as I mark the material.”

“I do have an ass buddy!” I said in mock protest but I could tell that he was already deep in thought, tugging and poking the pants, particularly around my butt. His hand grazed my back side several times, pulling at the material as he worked.

“You can pack a lunch back here, you have so much extra material,” Aslam stated. I felt him marking the material with the chalk as I felt his hands press against my hips and butt as he marked the pants.

“How tight you want to go?” Aslam suddenly asked when he stopped in front of me.

“Huh?”

“Some guys want to show some ass curve and some don’t. Some want the front tighter as well, to um, impress people,” he explained with a slight blush.

I shrugged my shoulders, a bit embarrassed at the question, never really thinking that way.

“What do you think Aslam,” I asked cautiously.

Aslam immediately went back to staring at my pants, walking around me twice. He then looked up at me then blushed himself. “Would you mind dropping your pants for a moment and holding up you dress shirt? Id like to see how your underpants look. It might help me make a decision,” he said, avoiding my eyes as he spoke. What the hell I thought, undoing the top button and unzipping the pants, letting them fall to my ankles as I pulled up my shirt. I wasn’t quite sure if I found myself to be a bit of an exhibitionist or just enjoyed the attention, but I felt my cock wiggle ever so slightly at the predicament that I was suddenly in. Aslam walked around me, stopping once or twice and then announced he was done.

“Pull them up Karan. Here’s my thought but you have the final word. You have a good butt and should show it off some. Your present suit ages you a bit. As for the front, I’ll make it snug but not too slutty!” he explained.

“Slutty?” I said, breaking into a giggle but not too upset that he liked my ass. A guy liked my ass, wow, was all I could think. This was definitely getting interesting. A moment later, Aslam appeared with a large pair of scissors in his hands.

“If you don’t mind, Karan, I’d like to cut out some material and can then pin the pants back together while you are in them. It will give me a better sense of your hip and crotch proportions,” Aslam said.

“I’m all yours! Do with my what you want!” I announced, blushing terribly after realizing what I had just said and how it sounded.

Aslam looked up with a bright red blush like mine, but walked behind me with the scissors. I could barely make out him mumbling something which sounded like “if only,” but I wasn’t quite sure.

“Hold still for a bit while I cut the material,” Aslam said as I heard the scissors begin their work. I soon felt a breeze behind me and I saw Aslam throw a large swatch of material to the floor. Several times I could feel the back of his hand slide across my ass as he cut the material. Soon after, he stepped in front of me.

Aslam hesitated for a moment, staring at my crotch with the scissors in his hand. “Now I really need you to stand still, okay?” he asked.

“No problem there, I was already cut as a baby and don’t need anything else cut off,” I freely announced, again blushing realizing what I had just said. “Me too,” Aslam admitted, again blushing at the situation. I held my breath as he cut, and again felt the back of his hand against my body, although this time it was against my cock, which I could feel grow a bit inside my boxer briefs due to the close proximity of his hand. I could see Aslam steal a peek once or twice at the front of my boxer briefs. I was sure he had seen it twitch or shift once or twice as his face remained red during this tailoring procedure. I wondered how often he cut clothes while someone stood in them.

“Done!” he announced, letting me resume breathing as he picked up the few pieces of fabric that he had cut off. I looked down and was a bit shocked, seeing the front of my boxer briefs poking through the cut pants. I looked up at another mirror that was a rear view and could see my boxer brief covered butt clearly visible between the cut open pants at my backside. I started to get warm thinking about my situation and wiped some sweat off my brow.

Aslam walked over with a box of pins in his hands and noticed my dilemma. “Karan, please take off your shirt and tie. I’m sorry I should have told you that before. I forget how warm it can get in here,” he said, loosening his own tie and opening the top button of his shirt, as if to symbolically share my situation. I looked closely at his face, and I could tell that he really was warm as well.

I undid my tie and unbuttoned my shirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the chair. Aslam walked behind me and began to pin the back of my pants closed. I could feel his hands once or twice graze my ass and could only assume that he was simply doing his work. Then I realized I could look into the appropriate mirror facing behind me which allowed me to closely follow his actions. He seemed to be pretty professional but once or twice his hand seemed to hang over my butt as if he was about to pat or rub my ass. I kept my eyes moving, in case he would look up and see me watching him. Once or twice I heard him let out a loud sigh. This was definitely getting interesting, and even more interesting, I was really enjoying the attention and even started to pay a bit more attention to Aslam. He really was quite good looking and impressive professionally as well.

Aslam quickly finished and moved to stand in front of me. I offered him a wide smile. “You’re doing great Aslam!” I beamed at him, being rewarded with a wide smile from him as well. “Don’t make me nervous, this is the one place you don’t want me to prick you with a pin!” Aslam warned. “I’m not expecting any pricks tonight!” I said, meaning exactly what I said. “I have all the confidence in the world you’ll treat me just right!” I added. Aslam looked up and me and practically glowed. I put my hands on my hips and relaxed, looking forward at the mirror so I could watch Aslam at work, and began to marvel at his firm butt reflected before me while he bent over at my crotch. We began to chat about this thing and that and I marveled at his wit and charm and intelligence. In my line of work, it was so rare to find a young man close to my age I could actually hold a conversation with. And I was starting to fall for this guy, this tailor!

Talking comfortably and eagerly, Aslam relaxed and opened up, not as cautious or hesitant as he started. But clearly he was afraid to cross the line from offering a professional service to becoming a personal friend. I had to do something to shake things up. When Aslam stood up and put down the pins, he directed me to put on the jacket.

“It’s a bit warm in here Aslam, can we do the other pants first?” I asked.

“That won’t be necessary, I know what to do from sizing this pair,” he answered while his eyes went wide and I took off my undershirt. “I’m warm,. Let me cool down first,” I said, waving my undershirt over my bare chest to create a breeze. I watched him look me over closely, which pleased immensely. I watched Aslam fidget and steal an occasional glance my way as he put away his materials and I took off the trousers, walking over to him and handing them to him. I stood next to him while he organized himself and I made small talk just to pass the time.

I put my hand to his shoulder and rubbed the material. Aslam flinched for a second and looked up at me, clearly surprised.

“This dark blue shirt of yours is awesome. I love the look of it. Where did you get it? Its so sharp!” I said.

Aslam grinned broadly. “Its mine, I mean, um, I designed it and made it!” he professed proudly.

“No way! I am so impressed,” I said as he turned towards me. I reached out to the collar and felt the material, truly marveling at the shirt but also trying to get closer to him and sending a signal I hoped.

“We’re practically the same size,” I began. “Would it be crazy if you let me try it on for just a second. I’d love to see how I’d look in a dark shirt like that,” I said.

I watched Aslam’s reaction closely. He was stumped. On one hand, he beamed with pride that I took such an interest in his creation, but then again he was being asked to let someone else wear what he was wearing. Aslam hesitated.

“Oh please,” I begged. “I’ve never worn a true fashion original!” I added. That did it. Aslam just glowed.

Aslam undid his tie and removed it and undid the top button and then froze. “I have no undershirt on!” he admitted in a panic.

I laughed. Aslam my man, I stand before you in just my boxer briefs and you care that you have no undershirt?”

Aslam shrugged and removed his shirt rather quickly and handed it to me. I watched him closely. I was right, he did have a swimmer’s build. His fair skin was well muscled. He wasn’t too big or beefy but trim and tight. Quite impressive to be honest and again, similar to me, but lighter and without any chest hair. He wore his pants low, below the belly button, but I couldn’t see any treasure trail leading down below. With his shirt now in my hand, I held it closely to my face and rubbed it lightly against my cheek. “So soft,” I commented, while sneaking a quick sniff and taking in his sweet yet salty odor and some woody cologne he must be wearing. Admittedly, I was really getting turned on by this whole situation. I think he was too. I slowly put on his shirt which I could tell was a bit snug in the shoulders and neck. I buttoned it up except for the last two buttons and stood in front of one of the mirrors. It really was a good looking shirt, and I loved the dark blue color.

Suddenly, I felt Aslam step behind me, looking over my shoulder and into our reflection in the mirror. He suddenly reached around me to button the top buttons. Because of our position, he was forced to stand right behind me as his fingers moved about my neck. I leaned back into him, forcing my back to press against his chest. He rewarded me by leaning forward, holding our place together. I wiggled my butt some and was convinced I could feel the hardness growing in his pants.

“Thanks for letting me wear your shirt Aslam,” I said, looking at him through the mirror and no longer admiring the shirt I was wearing.

“Thank you too Karan,” he replied, also staring at me, our eyes locked. I wiggled my butt again pushing into him even harder. I watched him grin and giggle. Suddenly his hands flew over the buttons of the shirt, unbuttoning them and peeling the shirt off my shoulders, leaving me bare-chested, with him still behind me. Again I leaned against him as he leaned forward, forcing our now bare skins together. I looked quickly at my boxer briefs and saw that I was really getting hard. I looked up to see that Aslam had followed my gaze and also recognized my excitement. Aslam just grinned and lowered his hands to my chest, holding them open palmed on my pecs and moving them about ever so slightly. I could feel my heart begin to pound and was sure Aslam felt it as well. My nipples tingled.

I smiled warmly at Aslam. “That feels so good, to be held, to be touched,” I admitted. Aslam leaned in to plant a small kiss on my shoulder as he held on to my chest. “Me too,” he began. “Been way too long and way too busy with my career,” Aslam added.

“So let me ask you a question, mister fashion expert,” I said. “Hmmm?” he mumbled, not removing his mouth from my shoulder.

“Are my boxer briefs in style or should I be wearing something more youthful and fashionable?” I asked.

Aslam lifted his head and stared at my reflection in the mirror, focusing on my black boxer briefs and gave a shrug.

“They’re okay, nothing special,” he offered.

“So what do you wear? What kind of undies are you wearing right now?” I asked.

“Right now? Umm nothing actually,” he answered with a devilish grin.

“You came to work commando? This fancy place? No way!” I protested. “I don’t believe you!”

Aslam pulled himself off me and stood to my side, unsnapping the top of his pants and showing me a small patch of his bare lower belly.

“See?’ he announced with a smirk.

“Hell, you can be wearing low rise bikini briefs,” I argued.

“Fine!” he objected, as he unsnapped two more snaps of his pants, exposing more skin below his belly button.

“Shit Aslam, I bet you have on a thong or jock strap! No way are you naked under those pants!” I added in mock protest.

“Fine!” Aslam responded, pretending to be annoyed. He kicked off his shoes to reveal bare feet, not wearing any socks. This was going to be good, I thought. I watched intently, staring as he unsnapped the remaining snaps and looked down at himself as he stepped out of his pants, leaving himself standing naked before me, his nice size cock starting to come to life before me.

Aslam looked up at me, his hands on his hips, proud of his performance. “But you’re still wearing …” he began as he looked up at me. Busy removing his own pants, he was unaware that I quickly dropped my own boxers briefs and now was also naked standing before him, my cock already anxious and rising to the occasion. Aslam looked at me wide eyed, a sly grin spreading across his face. We stood silently for a moment, facing each other, taking in the view and enjoying our predicament.

“It’s been way too long for me to be with someone,” I admitted through a weak smile.

“Same here,” Aslam responded as he took a step closer to me and took my hand into his.

After a moment, Aslam grinned and took me by the hand, leading me to a back room. Through another door, we entered a small room with a large unmade bed in the middle. I looked perplexed.

“There used to be an old apartment back here but they let me use it to relax when I have long scheduled days. But today I have a new use for it!” Aslam explained.

“You are way too cute to not have used it before for some good hot sex!” I offered.

“No, really, I have been too busy for anything, or anyone ……… until now of course,” he responded, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me with him onto the bed. We hugged tightly and our mouths opened for some really erotic kissing. Our tongues met and danced, exploring each other and letting our minds melt. It had been way to long for me to hold someone so close and feel so close as well. My arms traveled up and down Aslam’s back, feeling his firm yet soft body, sensing the strong muscles underneath. My hands wandered south, finding his firm ass cheeks and holding them tight, kneading them as I went. Aslam was busy doing the same, feeling my body and exploring every inch if its surface. Rolling from side to side, we soon parted.

“I want you inside me, I need you inside me Karan!” Aslam moaned, looking deep into my eyes.

I smiled, as turned on and ready as he was. Aslam rolled to the side of the bed to find a small nightstand. On his stomach, fishing through the drawer, his amazing bare ass staring me in the face, I heard him fumble around until he pulled out two small boxes, which I identified as lube and condoms. I was about to make some silly comment about him stocking his “playroom” until I noticed that he had to tear open each package, clearly neither having been used before.

“Wishful thinking and hoping!” was all he said. I knew I could trust him. He handed me the items and moved to the center of the bed, lying on his stomach, offering me his sweet bubble butt. “No way!” I protested, getting a concerned face back from Aslam.

I grabbed him by his waist and flipped him over. “I sure don’t need to see the back of your head baby! I want to look deep into your eyes as we make love!” I explained, getting the widest grin ever from Aslam. I leaned over him, my hands next to his side putting me into a pushup position, and leaned in for an other deep kiss. Once done, I pulled his knees up into his chest, letting his hips roll forward and exposing what I found to be the cleanest smoothest pinkest rosebud ever!

Leaning over him, I kissed and sucked on his small nipples. I chewed and licked them into erection, leaving him with two small pencil erasers which made him shudder each time I played with them. I worked lower down his belly, kissing and sucking and licking as I went. At his belly I pushed my face into his skin, enjoying the taste and smell of him. I was in heaven. I looked down between my legs to see that I had become rock hard and felt a bump on my throat, realizing that Aslam’s cock had also reached full size. I moved further down and nuzzled my nose in his silky blonde pubes, letting my chin rub against his already sensitive cock. Lower still, I found his cock head and licked around the top, teasing and coaxing the sensitive skin to further arousal. Aslam gasped and cooed, enjoying the sensation and pleasure he was receiving. After a few quick licks along the underside of his cock, I began a slow yet deliberate sucking of his beautiful hard man meat. He squirmed below me, allowing me to do whatever I wanted with his amazing body. I continued licking under his cock and began my attack on his ball sack.

“Oh man, Karan, you are driving me so crazy!” Aslam moaned at me.

“I feel like I haven’t eaten in years and you are this sumptuous banquet that is all mine,” I responded, grinning from ear to ear.

After licking around his sack, and taking each ball into my mouth to suckle on, I began my attack on his hole underneath. I rimmed the edges and allowed my tongue to swirl inside, wetting him up and teasing him into a new level of pleasure. I grabbed the condom and slipped it on my cock which was already throbbing and glistening at the tip. I reached for the lube and put some on my fingers, gently applying it to Aslam’s hole and pushing some inside. Aslam quivered and shivered at my touch. I knew that I had already aroused his hole to be ready for my assault. I put a little lube on my condom covered cock to make my entry even easier.

With his legs held tight against his chest, I maneuvered my hips up to Aslam so that my throbbing cock was at its entry point. Our eyes locked and with a quick nod, Aslam let me know that he was ready and eager and willing for me to begin my love attack. I pushed my hips forward, slowly pushing my cock into its target. I watched Aslam’s face, concerned that my hard 8 inch cut would cause any discomfort, but my stare was only met with a soft smile. Further in, Aslam released his breath, having passed the point of initial pressure. Once in, I began my slow assault, moving in and out, back and forth, letting my hips swivel into a steady rhythm. The fucking was delicious. The warm wet tightness that Aslam’s ass offered made my head spin. But more importantly, it wasn’t just the pleasure of the sex. I looked deeply into Aslam’s eyes, as he looked back at me lovingly. I was making a psychic connection, finding someone who I felt so comfortable with, so easy with. Despite putting myself into a more awkward position, I leaned in lower towards Aslam, wanting to be inches apart as our hips continued to piston up and down, in and out, merging our bodies into one unified being.

Close to cumming several times, I slowed my hips, to allow this moment to continue, to obtain the most pleasure possible. But I couldn’t keep edging myself much longer. The urge for release was growing uncontrollably and I knew that the moment of no return was at hand. My belly kept rubbing against Aslam’s hard cock below, pushing him ever closer to the edge as well. And then the universe rumbled and the room shook and the bed rolled as a low animal growl escaped my throat and my cock shuddered and heaved, forcing wave after wave of my cream to shoot deep into Aslam’s ass. At the very moment, I felt a wave of wetness cover my belly, knowing that Aslam had cum at the very same instant. Our faces met and our eyes beamed and our mouths, like drawn by some powerful cosmic force, locked tightly, holding ourselves together to ride the tidal orgasmic force between us. Our bodies shook and rocked in unison, releasing their juices. But slowly, ever slowly, our panting and moaning subsided as our bodies relaxed, muscles returned to normal and heartbeats slowed as well. Hesitantly, we broke our kiss, and I rolled over onto my back to lay beside Aslam, and our cocks began to deflate and relax.

“I have no words,” I panted, staring at the ceiling.

Aslam propped himself onto an elbow as he turned to face me. “Magic, heaven, amazing! I have three words,” he offered with a giggle.

I tuned to my side to face him. “And glorious,” I added.

We sat up, feeling the sweat roll off our bodies. “There’s a small shower in there,” Aslam said, motioning with his head.”

“Good idea,” I replied. “maybe we can grab a bite?” I said as both a suggestion and question, hoping that our evening would continue.

“Hell yeah! You are so stuck with me, hot stuff!” Aslam offered, clearly pleased as well that we would stay together longer.

“Let me shower first, so I can clean up the shop and get your suits together. If you don’t mind I don’t plan on doing any work tonight. Maybe after dinner I can show you my real bed in my apartment uptown!” Aslam suggested with a grin that got dirtier as he spoke.

“And maybe breakfast at my apartment downtown where I can give you a tour!” I suggested.

“A tour of your apartment?” Aslam asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Nah!” I replied, to Aslam’s disappointment. “A tour of MY mattress!” I added, restoring Aslam’s warm smile. We laughed like kids and rolled around a while longer before taking our turns in the shower.

Epilogue:

Aslam and I had dinner that night in a small romantic café, talking for hours and learning all about each other. We had so many common interests in travel and sports and experiences. We both admitted that we had never truly met anyone special until this very day! It was amazing and wonderful. We made it back to his apartment where we stripped so fast, that we were naked before we even got to his bedroom. This time, Aslam got to fuck me with delight and delirium. The next morning, we got up early and dressed quickly, stopping at a coffee shop on the way to my place where we had our coffees and jumped in the shower, remaining there for over an hour of sucking and hugging and playing around. We were so exhausted, we both had to call in sick! So we just had to spend the day naked in my bed, leaving the room occasionally only to forage for some food in the kitchen before chasing each other back to the bedroom.

The next four months went by in a blur. We introduced each other to our friends and families, who all loved our new partner. That of course led to the realization that we needed to move in together. By that time, Aslam was making pretty good money, having made a name for himself in fashion circles in New York and Paris and Milan. He was considered one of the rising stars of the fashion world while I was also having good success in my legal career. We bought a condo in midtown, convenient to both his and my jobs, enjoying setting up a home that we could call our own! Exactly one year after we had first met in that tailor’s fitting room, we were in City Hall, signing our marriage license. His professional success only grew as did mine, and we were both making seven figure salaries. My job placed me in California a lot and his forced him to Europe quite a bit, so we traveled frequently and usually were able to travel together. So much of our work could be accomplished online. Aslam picked out the beach house that we bought on the French Riviera and I got to pick out the beach house we bought in Newport Beach, California.

By the way, most days Aslam and I wear just jeans and polo shirts – and stay barefoot. Aslam still avoids wearing underwear. I have no complaints!