Page 24 of The Holy Grail

Clothes shopping

After a nice dinner at Kyoto, in a nod to ‘where it all began’, Malcom and Jules drove to Macy’s, which was located in a nearby mall. It was where he had purchased his outfit for their first date, so going back seemed like the best choice.

After parking and getting out of the car, he took her hand—something she found herself really enjoying—and as they approached the store, she leaned into him and asked, “Are you ready to have some fun?”

“I’ve never really thought of shopping as ‘fun’ before, so …”

“That’s because you’ve never been shopping with me ,” she told him with a quick kiss. “And this is going to be fun, because I’m fun.”

He kissed her back. “Okay, then I guess I’m ready to have some fun.”

Once in the store, Jules led him to the men’s floor, where he glanced around at the hundreds of racks of clothes, interspersed with numerous display tables piled high with folded shirts and sweaters.

Within moments they were at the back of the store, which was basically a wall of pants folded neatly into built-in cubby holes: jeans, cargo pants, khakis, joggers, corduroys, and chinos, with numerous sub-categories, like straight-leg, relaxed fit, and athletic fit.

To make things even more complicated, there were choices of ‘washes’—dark, light, acid—and of course there were levels of ‘distressing’ to choose from.

The last time he’d been here, he’d almost gotten a headache .

“I refuse to wear pants with holes in them,” he warned her. “I’m forty-two, not twenty-two.”

With a chuckle, she pulled up the back of his shirt to look at his butt, specifically to see the brand and size (but also just to look at his butt) before letting his shirt fall back into place.

“I wouldn’t even suggest such a thing. We’re going to focus on pants like the ones you’re wearing, because they’re fairly traditional and they make your ass look amazing. ”

“Really?”

She patted one of his butt-cheeks, which was pleasingly round and firm under her hand. “Really. I would never lie about that.”

She went through the display of jeans with impressive speed while he simply watched like a helpless male, which, when shopping with a female, most men were.

When she had an armful of pants for him to try on, they headed over to the small dressing rooms and found an empty one.

When she set the stack down on the short wooden bench, then proceeded to take a seat next to it, he looked at her with a combination of surprise and uncertainty.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked.

“Um … do you want to stay?” he countered.

“Well, I did sit down, so … yes.” When he continued to just stand there, she added gently, “Is this you being shy or are you legitimately uncomfortable with me staying? Because if you are uncomfortable, I’ll leave.”

“I’ve just never done this before—”

“What do you mean? You and your wife never shopped together?”

“No.”

She gave him a quick wink. “Oh, well, then I guess you and I are learning how to do this together.”

He nodded, still looking a little unsure. “This probably sounds really weird, but what if I try something on and it looks bad? I don’t know if I want you to see that.”

“Because if a pair of pants don’t do your ass justice, you might become less attractive to me? Is that what you’re thinking?”

He paused, because when she said it like that, it sounded more than weird—it sounded borderline stupid—but he forged ahead. “Maybe.”

“I really don’t think you need to worry about that.” She gave him an innocent smile. “But, in the unlikely event that a pair of pants don’t do your ass justice, I’ll blame it on the pants. How’s that? ”

“All right,” he acquiesced. “But the next time you go clothes shopping, I’m going with you and having a front row seat while you try stuff on.”

“Fine,” she agreed without hesitation. “I mean, I was spread out on your countertop a few days ago, so, I’m really not worried if you see me trying on an unflattering dress or whatever. Know what I mean?”

He really did like the way she made everything so simple. “Good point.”

She leaned back against the wall and crossed one leg over the other, careful not to come in contact with his shin in the crowded space. “Now lose the pants so we can get started.”

He’d undressed in front of women many times—especially his wife—but this time felt different because even though it wasn’t in a sexual context, he had an exceedingly strong need to be an object of desire to her.

Jules’ opinion of his body mattered in a way it never really had before and he didn’t want her to be disappointed.

And while he wasn’t necessarily extremely worried of being a disappointment (he tried to keep in shape by working out in his basement, which had been converted into a decent gym), he was several years older than her, and the years after forty were like dog years.

Unfortunately for him, even though this wasn’t a sexual situation, her words, spoken in a smoky drawl, combined with the act of unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans in front of her while she watched with unabashed concentration, kind of turned it into one for him.

Before he even pushed the denim down his thighs, he could feel the blood rushing straight to his cock, and by the time he was stepping into the first pair of jeans in the stack, he was at full staff.

He tried to conjure up some boner-killing thoughts, but couldn’t even manage that, because she was now looking at him with a heat that could be felt from several feet away, effectively shutting down his brain.

With clumsy fingers, Malcom managed to get the jeans on, zipped, and buttoned, after some adjusting. “Well? What’s the verdict?”

Jules ran her eyes up and down his frame, lingering on the nicely filled out front of the dark-washed jeans. “I like them a lot. I vote yes.”

“You haven’t seen the back.”

She pointed to the mirror right behind him. “Yes, I have. And they absolutely do your ass justice.”

Feeling himself flushing a little at the compliment, he began working his way out of the jeans. As he laid them on the bench in what would be the ‘buy’ pile, he noticed she removed a few pairs of pants from the stack and laid them on the floor.

“Why are you getting rid of those?” he asked .

“They have a slimmer fit, and I think in certain circumstances they might be too … constricting.”

He decided it was time to just own the situation, since it couldn’t be ignored. “You mean like a circumstance involving a hard dick?”

“Yes.” Her eyes went back to his tight gray briefs—basically at eye level—which he knew were leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Then, to his shock, she leaned forward and glanced up at him as she snaked out a hand and cupped him. “A circumstance I’m enjoying immensely , by the way.”

He groaned softly at the trifecta of the suggestive pun, the fingers massaging his balls through the thin material of his Calvin Kleins, and the vision of her in a perfect blow job position …

only to have the moment rudely interrupted by a knock on the dressing room’s flimsy door, making Malcom jump.

“How’s everything going in there?” a young man’s voice inquired.

It took Malcom several seconds to realize the person on the other side of the door was obviously a store employee checking on customers in the dressing rooms. “Everything’s fine,” he called back, hoping he didn’t sound like his balls were being played with.

“Okay. Let me know if you need any different sizes for anything.”

“We will,” Jules returned, as she slid her hand up to grip his hard cock. “Thank you.”

There was a bit of a pause (probably because the young man hadn’t been expecting a woman to be inside the room as well), before he said, “All right, then.”

With a grin that said she wasn’t in the least bit sorry, Jules said, “When we get back to your place tonight, I’m going to really have some fun with this,” before giving his cock one last healthy squeeze, before letting go.

Then, like she hadn’t dropped a bomb on him, she calmly handed him another pair of jeans to try on, then sat back and crossed her legs again.

Malcom was starting to wonder if he was dating the devil’s daughter (or perhaps a close relative, like a niece) but knew it wasn’t going to deter him in the least from continuing to see her.

Not only that, but if he’d had his way, they’d be leaving Macy’s immediately, as the last thing he wanted to do was try on more pants …

and whatever else she was going to pick out for him.

By the time he’d worked his way through the rest of the pile, and had settled on five out of the fifteen, his balls were aching. All he could think about was the ‘fun’ she was going to have with him later. blow job fun? Just the thought of her mouth on him was enough to—

“Mal?”

The sound of his name drew him reluctantly away from his tantalizing thoughts. “Hmm. What?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

He blinked at her, knowing from experience women didn’t like it when men weren’t listening, so he answered, “Yes.”

“Oh? What did I say?”

Of course she would ask, and since he really didn’t know, he decided to deflect with humor. “You said ‘Mal’.”

She shook her head. “I meant before that.”

“I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything. I was just fucking with you.”

“You were—” he broke off, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his head in amusement at his own expense.

“I couldn’t help it, because you were just staring into space.” She gave what was obviously an exaggerated impersonation of him gazing into space. “Makes me really want to know what you were thinking about.”

“I did not look like that.” He knew this for a fact because there was no way in hell he looked like that big of an idiot while thinking about a blow job. No way. “And I wasn’t thinking of anything, really.”