"I thought it would be a good idea to buy Bobby a suit," Gladys Bradley told the little Italian tailor whose shop was down the road from their apartment. "Not only for the dance, but with Bobby going to college in a couple of months he'll probably need a suit for other things."
"A college boy now huh?" Tony Caruso asked as he rubbed the dense 5 o'clock shadow on his face, a hint of his accent still around despite living in the USA for nearly 50 of his 66 years.
"That's right Mr. Caruso. Anyway, Bobby's father - god rest his soul - always swore by you," Gladys explained as her son squirmed in place. "He said your work was wonderful and you were very meticulous. I recall you always had my husband come back many times for fittings to make sure it was perfect."
"Yes, your husband Richard. A good man. We became quite close," Tony said. "And you know I will take good care of his boy!"
"It's his prom and he has a date and everything," Gladys explained. "So I trust you to put him in something nice."
"Leave it to me Mrs. Bradley," the tailor said as he escorted her to the door. "You want Bobby to call you when we're done to pick him up?"
"No, Bobby can walk because it isn't far," she told the tailor before turning to her son and mentioning, "You can use the exercise."
"I know mother," the cherubic lad said as he watched his mother leave, and after the tailor latched the door behind her and flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED he pulled the shade on the door down.
"I don't like to be disturbed," Tony explained as he led the lad around the corner of the room away from the front window. "I strongly believe you take care of one person at a time and do it right. So you have a date for the Prom huh?"
"Not really. It's my cousin," Bobby shrugged. "Mother insisted I go to the Prom and I couldn't find a date so she arranged it."
"Ah. Interesting. That tall blonde boy I see you walking with past the store a lot of times? Is he going to the Prom too?"
"Uh - Dylan?" Bobby mumbled as he tried to hide his shock of the tailor noticing him before. "No, he's not."
"Oh well. You never been fitted for a suit before Bobby, right?" Tony asked as he held onto the ends of the measuring tape draped around his neck, and when the teen shook his head the tailor nodded and said. "I'm gonna make you look like a movie star. Take off your shirt and slacks for me."
"Really?" Bobby asked.
"Of course. Gotta take measurements. A lot of measurements," Tony told him.
Bobby Bradley slowly unbuttoned his shirt, self conscious about his chubby frame, and after he took off his slacks he felt naked even though he still had on socks and baggy boxer shorts.
"You about 6'1"?" Tony asked as he looked over the lad's pudgy body, taking special note of the plump boy boobs on his smooth chest as he wrapped the measuring tape around his neck. "I figure by sight you might be a 46 regular - maybe a tall - but I'll need to do some altering. Lotta work but I love my job"
"Lift your arms for me Bobby," Tony instructed, and as Bobby reluctantly raised his arms so the tailor could measure his chest he saw the man look and smile at the sparse moist hairs pasted on the skin under his arms.
"Breathe normal," Tony said as he spun the tape around the lad's chest, the feel of the measuring tape against the boy's puffy crimson nipples making them swell even larger.
"Hot in here for you?" Tony asked as he reached for a towel, watching a drop of sweat roll down the lad's side from under his arm, and when he dabbed the perspiration Bobby giggled.
"Ticklish?" the tailor asked as he wiggled the towel under Bobby's arm, making his upper torso jiggle a little.
"Maybe a 48 regular," Tony reconsidered as he measure the lad's waist before kneeling down and explaining. "I like to measure the outseam and the inseam."
Bobby watched the tailor put the tape on his hip and pull it down to the top of his foot before bringing the measuring tape up between his legs, the back of his hand making contact with him and making the boy jump.
"That date of yours, she gonna have a treat coming after the dance," Tony opined as his hand nudged the meaty organ a few more times while looking up at his reaction. "You're a big boy alright. A lot like your father. Maybe even bigger."
"Something wrong son?" the tailor asked while looking up for Bobby's reaction before slipping his hand up under the leg of the loose boxer shorts, and it took no time to find what he wanted.
Bobby gasped and grabbed the arm of the tailor, the hairy forearm very muscular for a slim man, but the tailor's hand held onto the cock, rubbing the bulbous head and feeling the lad's manhood begin to get hard.
"You like what I'm doing, don't you Bobby?" the diminutive tailor asked as the lad squirmed, moving his weight from foot to foot as the tip of his dick drooled on the man's fingers.