The morning was calm, too calm for my heated thoughts. John handed me the keys to the store, and that characteristic, slightly mischievous smile appeared on his lips.
“This is your kingdom for today, Matt. Be careful, some toys can work... on you too,” he said half-jokingly.
I laughed, but I could feel my heart racing. Because I knew he was right.
When the door closed behind him, silence fell. Only the soft, rhythmic hum of the demo vibrator in the background reminded me that I was in a place that could explode with sexual energy at any moment.
I stood in the middle of the room and looked around. Shelves full of bottles of lubricant glistened in the dim light, and rows of jockstraps, colorful and provocative, stared at me from the wall, as if inviting me to touch them. The air was thick, saturated with a mixture of the smell of leather, latex, and the sweet aroma of lube.
I walked between the shelves, and images began to form in my head.
I imagined customers who come here not only to shop, but to indulge in my guidance, without shame, without resistance. I saw their naked bodies, obedient, ready for anything I showed them.
I felt a familiar tension in my crotch. I was alone. Just me and all these toys.
And then... ding!
A quiet bell above the door snapped me out of my fantasy. My heart beat faster and the blood in my veins began to pulse with new strength.
The first customer.
The door closed behind him with a soft click, and I drew in my breath, suddenly sensing a different note in the air, fresh deodorant mixed with warm, masculine sweat. Standing in the doorway was a guy who looked like he had just come from the gym.
He was wearing a loose-fitting sports sweatshirt and tight, dark gray sweatpants that hugged his muscular thighs. His hair was slightly tousled, his cheeks flushed, and he looked like he had just run a few miles or... like he had just gotten out of someone's bed.
“Hi,” he said, his voice slightly tense. “You’re new, right?”
“Yes, Matt,” I replied, trying to sound professional, even though my gaze involuntarily lingered on his thighs and the bulge that the fabric of his pants couldn't quite hide. “How can I help you?”
The boy glanced around the store quickly, as if checking to see if anyone was watching them. Then he scratched the back of his neck and smiled uncertainly.
“I have... a rather unusual situation,” he said, laughing nervously. “My best friend is getting married, and her friends have roped me into doing a show for them... as a stripper.”
His cheeks instantly turned red.
“I have no idea what I should wear to look... you know... good. I'm a little lost.”
A broad smile appeared on my face, and a light bulb immediately went off in my head.
“That means we need something special,” I said calmly, leading him toward the jockstrap section. “Something that will drive them crazy.”
He stood next to me, and I began pulling out different models and holding them against his hips, assessing the effect.
“This one will emphasize your thighs...” I moved the fabric along his muscles, feeling their tension under my fingers. “And this one will make all eyes focus on your butt.”
He laughed more and more freely, though his cheeks were still burning. I could see that it turned him on more than he wanted to admit, his breathing became shallower, and his sweatpants moved slightly when I paused my hand too close to his crotch for a moment.
Finally, he chose a simple black jockstrap with black straps. I handed it to him, and our fingers touched lightly, a brief brush that sent a shiver through my body.
I led him to the cash register, the atmosphere between us thick and electric.
When I handed him his change, he glanced at me briefly, his lips twitching in a barely visible smile.
I had the feeling that we both knew this was just the beginning.
He grabbed his shopping bag, but instead of turning toward the door, he suddenly hesitated and looked at me with that uncertain yet provocative smile of his.
“You know what...” he began, scratching the back of his neck. “I'd like to try it on. I don't want to look stupid in front of the girls.”
I raised my eyebrow and pointed to the fitting room.
“There's a mirror in there. You can calmly…”
”No,“ he interrupted me, waving his hand. ”There's no point in hiding. All the girls will see me in a few days anyway. You better tell me right away how it looks."
Before I could answer, he slipped his fingers into the waistband of his pants and, in one swift motion, slid them down to his ankles, along with his boxers. My throat instantly went dry.
My gaze fell on his penis, medium length, thick, slightly drooping, with a subtly shiny head, as if it had just been touched.
I felt my own cock react immediately, hardening in my pants. My heart was pounding like crazy, and the air between us became heavy, almost sticky with tension.
He put his legs in the jockstrap and pretended to get lost in the straps.
"Damn, I can't figure this out. Can you help me?" he asked with an innocent look on his face.
I could see in his eyes that he knew exactly what he was doing.
"Sure," I muttered, kneeling behind him. My fingers slowly adjusted the fabric, stroking his taut skin with every movement.
His skin was warm and smooth, and I touched it a little too long, allowing myself a moment I should never have prolonged.
I could smell his body, sweat mixed with a slight hint of sweet perfume, and I wanted to bury my face in it.
He looked up at the mirror in front of him and suddenly gasped.
His cock, under the fabric of the jockstrap, began to slowly rise, creating a clear outline.
“Is… it normal for me to get hard?” he asked, blushing. “It’s probably just because of the jockstrap, right?”
I smiled slightly, leaning in so close that my lips almost touched the back of his neck.
“Relax. It happens more often than you think. It's not the jockstrap...” I paused for a moment, letting him feel my breath on his skin, “...it's the way other people look at you.”
I felt his body tremble. He turned suddenly, sticking his butt out toward me.
“And from behind?” he asked, feigning confidence. “I want the girls to go crazy.”
I was so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
“They will go crazy,” I whispered, brushing my fingers against his bare buttocks as I adjusted the last strap. “Just tell them to be careful... because they might get dirty just from looking.”
His breathing quickened, and my hands wanted to do much more than they should.
The tension broke in a second. The boy gasped sharply, then hurriedly pulled on his pants and boxers, as if only now realizing what had just happened.
“Thanks, man...” he said, avoiding my gaze. His face was a mixture of embarrassment and... something else.
He paused at the door and looked back at me over his shoulder.
“I hope the bride and her friends get as turned on as you were when you were looking at me.”
I pretended to laugh, but inside I felt a wave of embarrassment mixed with raw desire.
The door closed behind him with a chime, leaving me in complete silence.
I was burning with desire.
I peeked cautiously onto the sales floor. It was empty. Silence.
With my heart pounding, I returned to the back room.
I leaned against the cold metal table, and the image of his naked body and how he stood right in front of me in a jockstrap kept coming back to my mind.
My hand went to my fly before I could think about it.
I unzipped my pants and pulled out my cock, already hard and throbbing.
It wasn't slow pleasure. It was desperation.
I moved my hand faster and faster, imagining him standing in front of me, putting on this little show just for me.
The hum of the demo vibrator from the showroom mingled with my rapid breathing, and every sound in the empty store seemed too loud, too risky.
It only made me harder.
I groaned as I climaxed, my cum spurting onto the cold surface of the table.
For a moment, I rested my forehead against the metal, panting quietly, trying to recover.
Finally, I took a deep breath and cleaned up in a rush before returning to the sales floor.
And then I saw it.
There was a small, folded piece of paper on the counter.
I froze, my heart suddenly pounding like crazy.
I unfolded it with trembling fingers.
The paper bore simple, handwritten words:
“I saw what you were doing. I can’t wait to see you again.”
I lifted it to my nose and smelled the familiar scent of his perfume.
Did he leave it?
Or was someone else in the store while I was in the back... watching me in secret?
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