I went to the mall shopping for some new crosstrainer shoes. It boggles my mind how many choices there are these days, racks upon racks of styles on display. A young saleswomen approached to assist me but I said that I wanted to browse a while and roamed the store.
It was a weekday afternoon and there were only a few customers. One, a man about fifty, seemed to always be nearby as I perused the display racks. He was a trim, athletic guy, as you might expect in the sporting goods store. We exchanged "Hi's" and a few observations regarding different shoe types. I would wander off only for him to be beside me again.
Full disclosure: I do not cruise the mall. I do not trawl with a wide net. Not that there is anything wrong with that, as The Seinfeld Show said so well. Still, I always have an eye open for the right kind of guy who might be open to a chance encounter. I have found that casually shopping in the mall or browsing in a funky bookstore are the most fertile grounds for my tastes. So long as a purchase is my foremost purpose, those spots have led to some very savory liaisons.
This guy was right down my alley. He was considerably smaller than me, only about five-seven to my six-one, with a trim body. I guessed him to tip the scales at about a buck fifty. I like a comfortable size difference where we each naturally fit into our roles. A gentle dominant and an eager sub.
My college football years are decades behind me but I maintain the remnants of that athletic physique. I stay close to my playing weight of 225 and I am in the gym three times a week. Bulk is not my objective. I just want everything to remain tight and strong.
He made a show of examining a pair of sneakers on the bottom shelf. As he bent, his slacks stretched across two prominent orbs of firm glutes. It takes effort to keep a bubble butt like that into the middle years. This dude reaped ample rewards of some hard work. He flashed me several devilish smiles and there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye. I returned his smiles and gave him every opportunity to run those scheming eyes over my taut bod.
I was nonchalant when I reached around him to reach for some Nikes. My groin brushed across his ass. "Excuse me. I just want to check the treads on this pair."
Instead of shuffling out of my way, he pressed his cheeks against me and let them linger a second or two. "No problem. I'll just get out of your way." He didn't.
I was waiting outside on a bench admiring my purchase when he exited the store and sat beside me. "You went with those New Balance. That's a good color for you. I'm Jason."
We shook. His grip was gentle and lingered in mine. "I'm Marc." I let go of his hand. "Yeah, thanks. The fit was right."
"You've got a good sized foot." There was that impish smile again. "Is it true what they say?"
I laughed. Somehow, he made that tired cliche sound sincere. "In my case it is. Show me yours." I gave a subtle wink as I pointed to the shoe box in his lap.
He pulled out some Adidas and handed one to me. Our fingers grazed, then grazed again as I pretended to be interested in them. "Nice."
"Marc, this may sound forward but wanna get high? I live about five blocks away."
"That sounds like great way to spend an afternoon."
We parked at the back of his house and entered through the kitchen door. As he dropped his bag on the kitchen table he said, "Let me get the pot."
Jason went to a nearby kitchen cabinet and reached into an upper shelf. I followed. My hands went to his waist and my lips went to his neck. He pressed back against me and waggled his ass against my cock. As my mouth made a sloppy mess of his nape, my hands winnowed beneath his polo shirt and rubbed their way to his pecs. Jason held my hands tight to the flesh of his tits and moaned and twitched. Our heads turned and we kissed. I tweaked his nipples.
One of his hands reached for my cock. It was hardening and grew under his touch. "Very nice," he said.
