Have you ever noticed how, in movies, when one of the main love interests sees the other for the first time, the Universe seems to align perfectly? As though nothing else ever had, or ever would again, matter. I used to think that that was complete bullshit.
My life changed in a sex shop. Yes, you read that correctly.
It was a normal Tuesday for me. I was browsing the newest selections, eyeing a practical yet intricate paddle, when I saw him. Looking back now, I realize that he was standing under a display light, but my breath caught in my throat when I saw the lad surrounded by a heavenly glow. His small, jean-clad ass wiggling in time to the music being played over the intercom. He was holding a collar, comparing the price to another hanging on the shelf in front of him.
Now, please understand, I have never considered myself anything other than a straight man. I've always found women to be quite attractive, the sway of their hips, the fullness of their breasts. I love women. But this boy, at least twenty years my junior, his shaggy brown hair partially hiding his angular face... I had to fight to keep my jaw from falling.
After several moments, I composed myself and continued browsing. I watched the boy out of the corner of my eye, and when he finally made his way up to the checkout, I hastily grabbed something off the shelf and followed him.
The boy had a large order, it seemed. Probably discovering a new kink, I smiled to myself. All the while I stared at his wonderful behind as he shifted from foot to foot.
'I'm sorry, sir. Your card's being declined,' the cashier said, pulling me out of my stupor. I listened closely.
'What? No.. I just put money in the bank yesterday!' the boy exclaimed. 'Won't you try again? Please?'
The cashier sighed, rolling her eyes before swiping his card again. Again, the machine declined it.
'Shit,' he cursed. 'Alright.. I'll have to go see what's wrong, there.'
I could barely keep myself composed as I stepped forward. 'If you wouldn't mind,' I said, smiling, 'I hate to see someone deprived of such fun toys. Add it to my purchase, please,' I told the cashier. She looked to the boy for his approval.
'Oh, no, sir. Really, that's kind,' he stammered, 'but I couldn't.. You shouldn't-'
'Nonsense,' I chuckled. 'Now, you can either take these things as a gift, or I'll just take them home with me. What will it be?'
He stared at me, unbelieving, face turning adorably scarlet. 'Well...'
'That'll be eighty-four dollars and thirty nine cents,' the cashier said to me. I silently cursed her for interrupting the lad.
Collecting my bags, I motioned to him the walk with me. Approaching my car, I sat the nondescript bags on my trunk, rummaging through them for the nonsense items I'd picked up. Making sure he wasn't watching, I also pocketed the leash and collar set I had seen the boy holding earlier. I handed him the rest of his things.
'I'm still not sure about this,' he told me, looking sheepish.
'If you're so keen on paying for your things,' I replied quickly, formulating a plan in my mind, 'then why don't we exchange information, and you can pay me back when you get things sorted out with your bank?'
'That would be great,' he said, visibly relieved. 'My name's Devon. Do you have a pen and paper?'
I walked around my car, opening the driver side door, leaned across the console and fished a notepad and pen from the glovebox. He scrawled his name and phone number down quickly, and I jotted down my information for him, as well.
'It was nice to meet you, Devon,' I told him, motioning to leave.
'You, as well, sir.'
'Please. Call me Tom.'
'Alright. Thank you again, sir- Tom.'
'My pleasure,' I told the lad, slipping into my car. Watching him walk away, I whispered to myself, 'my pleasure, indeed.'
**
I gave it two excruciatingly long days before calling Devon. Feigning confusion, I left him a voicemail.
'Hello, Devon. This is Tom, your Good Samaritan from Tuesday. I haven't heard from you yet, so figured I'd give you a call. I think I forgot to give you one of your things.. Would you like to swing by my home later this afternoon to pick it up? My address is with the rest of the information I gave you.'
Hanging up, I sat at my kitchen table, placing my head in my hands.
'Thomas, you old pervert, what have you gotten yourself into?' I said aloud to myself. 'I suppose it doesn't have to go any further... It could very well have been a mistake. He can come by, pick up his things, give me my money, and I'll never see him again. I can put this all behind me,' I told myself firmly, knowing very well that things would not be so simple.
**
For the next few hours, I busied myself with housework, trying to make my home look presentable. I had gotten so absorbed in my cleaning that by the time the doorbell rang, I had almost forgotten that I was expecting company.
I ran my hand through my short salt and pepper hair, cursing under my breath. I tossed a glance towards the mirror, deciding I looked fine, and answered the door.
'Devon, hello,' I said, pretending to be nonchalant. 'Won't you come in?'
'Thanks,' he replied, stepping over the doorstep and into my front hall.
'Just leave your shoes here,' I said, gaining confidence as I walked towards the kitchen. Nodding towards the living room, I said, 'Make yourself at home. I'll be out in a moment; would you like a drink?'
'A water would be great,' came the reply. I allowed myself a quick victorious grin.
Shortly after, I brought out two glasses of water, the leash and collar combo tucked neatly into my back pocket, out of sight under my large grey sweater.
I placed his water in front of him on the coffee table, choosing to sit across from him.
'I don't believe we got properly acquainted on Tuesday, though, I have to say... You can learn quite a bit about someone by their choice in sex toys,' I told him, getting right to the point.
Devon blushed. 'Oh? And what.. What can you tell about me?'
I smiled, glad he'd taken my bait. 'Let's see.' I leaned back in my chair. 'I would have to say that you're quite the reserved, artistic type. But I could tell that by just looking at you.' Devon laughed nervously.
'How old are you, Devon?' I asked.