Whenever I get a little extra time I go the mall. I usually don’t need anything, but I have a major jeans fetish, and going into the stores is a fun way to feed the fetish. I might try on a couple of pairs, and I can see hundreds of guys of all ages and types in their jeans.
Last Sunday I’d tried skinny jeans on at Hollister (too low-cut; I’m too old to go sagging ? ). I’d admired some Rag and Bone jeans at Nordstrom ($225 seems way to rich for me) and gone into H&M (they used to have more of a selection – what gives!). I went into Macy’s and walked back to men’s. I was admiring some faded 511s when three guys came in with the intention of buying new jeans. They were together; #2 and #3 were wearing baggy unbranded jeans, and both were largish and sort of unattractive. But #1 seemed to be leading this trip. He was 45, well-built, and had a stache and beardlike stubble. His dark 541s and black leather jacket were perfect on him; he obviously worked out. Man, could I get his interest away from his friends? I was getting horny for this alpha-stud!
So the stud had grabbed a couple of different styles of Levis. Figuring he would be trying them on, I got a couple of pairs myself. This part of the store was quiet, so I went into the larger changing room that doesn’t have a lock. I left the door slightly ajar. Sure enough, a minute later the stud came in, opened the door, and saw me. “Shit, sorry,” he said. “Hey,” I said quickly. “This room is extra large, and if you help me figure out what looks good on me, I’ll hang out and do the same for you.” It felt lame when I said it, but the line worked! He came in and we shook hands. I already had a pair of distressed 33×32 511s on. He asked me if I wanted rips just like everyone elses’. I said, “yeah, let’s ditch these,” and he said “good!”
He’s got black 514s, medium wash 511s and dark 501s, all 32X34. I told him the 541s he was wearing looked great, but he said he did not care for the fit. He said the 511s were even worse when he tried them on. I said the 501s might fit better, and he put them on. I touched his butt, and told him that he looked great on both sides. He responded by putting his button fly bulge against mine. “Both sides of you look pretty awesome, too,” he said, and we kissed for a bit. I said, “you’ve gotten me all hot and bothered – what are you gonna do about it.” “Fuck, I’m with my buddies,” he said, “and I’ve got to piss bad. Real bad.” I was already wearing dark blue 511s, so I said, “lemme help you; I’ll drink some and wear the rest.” “You want me to piss in your mouth and on you? Huh?” “Yeah, give me your dick,” I responded. I unzipped my fly, undid my jeans button, and knelt.
It took a minute. He unbuttoned and pulled his dick, and I took it in my mouth. He seemed to need a moment to get his head around what was happening. But the need of the moment overcame any shyness. His hot piss hit my mouth like a fire hose. I gulped quickly, but some of the bittersweet piss dribbled out of my mouth and down my shirt. As the piss stream slowed, he sighed, and I directed his dick into my jeans as I stood partway. I felt the sweet-hot piss fill my crotch, flow down my jeans legs, and seep into my shoes. His flow subsided, and I stood up fully. He held my wet crotch and legs against his own. We kissed, and I shared the piss in my mouth with him – both of us swapping the last mouthful of his manpiss for a moment even as I dribbled piss in my jeans. “Um, thanks, bud, this was friggin’ great. Gotta get back to my friends, but let’s do it again when we can REALLY hang out.” “Gimme your email. Here’s mine; write anytime. You’re such a stud,” I replied while grabbing a Starbucks receipt with my email. “I guess I’m buying these 501s,” he said. “When we hook up, I’ll buy the beer and we’ll christen those jeans,” I replied.
And we were done. I threw on my jacket and left the changing room. I wrote the stud back; he was busy this weekend but we’re definitely getting together next weekend.