Woodfield Mall was huge, maybe the biggest in Chicagoland. More than two hundred fifty stores and restaurants. It was three levels of a shopper’s paradise. But you better bring the big wallet because it ain’t cheap to do anything more than window shop.
It was pouring rain again. At ten o’clock on a Saturday, it was just now opening time, and already the lots were filling up. I managed to park up close near JCPenney. That’s where I thought I would find underwear and jeans. I didn’t really know any of the other stores. Sears maybe, but Sears always made me think of Craftsman tools and Kenmore appliances–and I didn’t need tools. I had all the tools I needed for today in my back pocket. It was do-something-nice-for-Jack day, or more realistically, a don’t-strike-me-dead-for-being-selfish day. Todd said I couldn’t possibly spend it all, and since they didn’t sell 747s at Woodfield, I thought I could get out of there without breaking the bank.
At first I just walked around the mall, taking in the sights–and by sights I meant all the cute guys wandering around. I must have picked “Guy Saturday” because there were a lot of them. True, most were attached to pretty young girls, excited to have a day at the mall with their beau. The boys probably just wished their weekend outdoors hadn’t washed out with the rain. It was early yet so most of the guys still had some energy left in them. They walked a little straighter, their butts perkier in their strut. I ogled for a while but soon grew frustrated with the game. I decided that was going nowhere fast—it was time to actually spend some money.
I had seen ads from time to time for jeans at Abercrombie & Fitch. I had never been in there–I was afraid I would get a hardon with the pictures of half-naked male models all over the walls. Sure enough, the big picture just inside the entrance had a gorgeous blond hottie with board shorts barely hanging on his hips, his pubic hair winking just above the very low waistline. He was arm in arm with a brunette beauty who was obviously topless–her long curly hair artfully positioned just right to hide her nipples. How do they get away with that?
I scooted inside but of course went the wrong way so I was now staring at racks of ladies clothing. Thankfully, a dead ringer for the guy in the picture saved me and led me over to the men’s section.
“Hi,” he said. “My name’s Andy. What’s yours?”
“Uh...Jack. Nice to meet you, Andy.”
“Cool. So what brings you in today?” I wanted to say the pseudo porn on the walls, but they probably get that a lot, right?
“I need some jeans.” He led me over to the section housing the jeans. There was a whole wall of them in every style and color imaginable. I was lost before I got started. Plus, my brain was starved for oxygen since most of my blood was now in my dick. Did Andy really have to look so hot and smell so good?
“Do you have any questions I can help you with?”
“Uh...yeah...are you the guy in the picture out there?” Oh my God! I can’t believe I just said that out loud. Yes, I wanted to know, but you can’t just ask something like that right off. I had no filter today. He was amused.
“No. I get asked that a lot, actually. I only have a six-pack. That dude’s got like a twelve-pack or something. Sick.” It only took a second for me to figure out he meant that as a good thing. You get two years out of college and everybody starts talking funny.
“Um...okay then. Well...uh...I need to buy some jeans.” I’d already said that. My brain was not making all the normal connections. Get a grip, Jack, before they call security.
“What kind would you like?”
“Kind? Uh...blue?” I was blushing now, so embarrassed. But he was very sweet about it.
“I mean, what style would you prefer? We have straight, boot, slim, skinny, super skinny. And they all come in six colors and two different distressed levels–regular and destroyed.” Wait. Hold up. Did he just say “destroyed”? Who would pay big bucks for something already destroyed? My jeans were old but they weren’t ready for the trash.
I must have seemed even more perplexed because he took a different tact. “Okay, stand over here.” He moved me under a better, brighter light so he could see me more clearly. I’m sure my hard dick was nicely outlined in the spotlight. Could I just die now? I knew I should have never come in here.
He stood there and studied me, openly gawking at my legs and waist and ass. Yes, he asked me to turn around and of course I did, like the obedient little customer I was. When he finished his inspection, he walked over to the wall, selected three pair of jeans, all slim cut, all different colors. Dark, medium, and light.
“Follow me, and I’ll show you where you can try them on.” I didn’t dare try to speak. No telling what would have come out of my mouth at that point. He opened a changing room door and held it for me.
“Try the dark pair on first, Jack. And be sure to come out and show me so I can see how they look. No cheating.” He stood right outside the door while I shucked my old jeans to the floor. I thought about asking if maybe he would just like to come in with me and save all that time back and forth, in and out. But that would have been pushing it. I still needed the jeans and I wasn’t sure an Amex Centurion card worked for making bail.
I pulled up the dark washed jeans, and they felt wonderful, like they were molded to my butt, but not pinching anywhere. They rode lower on my waist than I was used to and the crotch was tight, but that wasn’t the jeans’ fault. I finally got the zipper up and stepped out. Andy grabbed my arm gently and pulled me over to a tall mirror. The inspection began again.
“Perfect. The fit is just right. Slim is definitely the way to go. You can actually see your ass in those—your other jeans were hiding it. You’ve got a great butt, show it off a little.” He was grinning ear to ear. My face was red hot and melting. Is he allowed to say things like that to me? Nobody better try and stop him either.
“How did you know? The size I mean?” I was stabbing in the dark for conversation now, just winging it. If he smiled at me one more time, I was going to cum in these nice new jeans, and I hadn’t even paid for them yet.
“I do this eight hours a day, five days a week. After you’ve looked at so many guys’ legs and butts, you can tell them their waist, inseam and the last time they had sex in two short seconds.” I nearly fell over. He was laughing. “Well, not that last one, but the other two I can nail pretty much every time. Besides, it saves time if they take the right size in with them on the first trip. And it looks like I scored again with you.” Not yet, but you just might.
“Well, we have the right fit, now you have to pick a color. Why don’t you try on the other two and we can decide together which is best?” He gently steered me back into the changing room and, two jeans-swaps later, we decided on two dark-wash for better occasions and the light-wash for bumming around, as I was doing today.
“You know, Jack, if you had those light wash jeans on today, you’d have a line of guys tracking you up and down this mall and out to your car. Trust me.” By now I had figured out he was just trying to be cool with me, and it was working. I relaxed a little, and thankfully my dick did too. I paid for my new clothes and thanked him for the help. Outside, I checked the receipt. Nope, no phone number. Too much to hope for? He was probably like that with all the guys. Heck, I didn’t even know if he was gay. But he sure figured me out in a hurry. My hardon gave it away, I’m sure. But I didn’t care. Andy was nice to me. And his register was $260 richer. Yikes!
Real shopping was hard work. Who knew? I stopped at a McDonald’s for a large Diet Coke and chilled for a few minutes. Finding jeans started out scary but in the end, Andy made me feel good about the whole process. Now I needed to do something about my hair before I had to start wearing paper bags over my head.