The Names Foster...

The way she just laid the cards on the table like that left him stunned for a long moment. Had his bitcj not drained his balls for him just a few hours ago with the promise of more to come he might have chosen diffrently.

He reached out for the glass "the name is Foster, dav..."

"Yeah, don't do that." She said walking over to her phone.

"Ice?" He asked looking around.

She stopped dialing and pointed the phones reciver at him like a knife. "Thats a 55 year old Macallan you put a drop of water in there solid or otherwise you will be walking outta here with every needle I own in ya body." She said and resumed dialing like nothing happend.

David sat down sipping the scotch. 'She is right this was not the same as a frat kegger Jack and coke.' He thought looking over the colors of fabric.

She ordered lunch for 2 of course not asking David what he wanted. She then immidately stripped him down to boxers and started measuring him. She had to physicslly shift his cock to measure his inseem properly she looked up at him and smirks "Hmm, mazal tov." She said her hand resting on it a moment longer than strictly nessesary.

The rest of the process took hours. They measured and chatted and ate. She draped him with dozens of fabrics pairing them with shirts, ties, belts, cufflinks, belts, suspenders. He felt caught in a whirlwind as she made decisions barely consulting him at all.

It was mid afternoon by the time she Looked up from her notepad. She had picked 2 suits off the rack under the strict admonition that should he use her companies name he is to tell them that they are rack selections not tailored.

He had to admit that Greta and Kimiko were right. 'Even these rack selections feel like a i am wearing pajamas more than a suit' he thought as he climbed back in the car. If he hurried he could make it to the electronics store.