Wakefield & Stein Department Store

The brunette, whose name was Brenda, barely got it back from the hair salon before the end of her lunch hour. She quickly made here way to her department - men's clothing - and draped her cloth tape measure around the back of her neck, signalling to the other salesgirl that she could now take her lunch break. As her co-worker grabbed her bag, she squinted at Brenda's head. "Did you just have your hair done?"

Brenda nodded and said, "The Bare Hair."

The other woman grinned and nodded. She knew what went on at that place. As she exited, a customer walked in. He was a fairly young man, probably in his early twenties, with a mop of hair that defied staying in place.

"How may I help you?" Brenda asked as she approached the man.

"Well... I'm... I'm looking for... I don't know. Something with a little... flair... to wear to a club tonight. A place called 'Teezers'. I hear it's a really hot spot."

Brenda pressed her lips together, but still the corners of her mouth curled up. "Yes. I know that club. It's very casual. You don't want to 'overdress' for the place." She chuckled. "Although I'm blowing my commission by saying that. Let's just take some measurements."

She pulled the tape from around the back of her neck and squatted down in front of him. The customer said that already knew his size and told her what it was. "Yes, but we can't be too careful. You want to make the right impression on the young ladies there."

His waist measurement was simple enough, but the measurement of his inseam seemed to take a bit longer. With her right hand holding the metal tab of the tape, her palm pressed flat over his 'package', she ended the tape down to his cuff. "These pants that you are wearing are alright... for the work place... but for clubbing you want something that fits a little more snugly. Something to... show off your attributes as it were."

When she said the word 'snugly', she curled her fingers around his cock and balls, still encased inside his clothing. "You have a narrow waist so I would recommend a cut-off tee-shirt. Something bright and colorful."

All the while she was talking, she kept her hand securely over his crotch. The customer closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Despite his best efforts, he could feel himself getting an erection. Brenda could feel it, too, a slight smile of triumph on her face.

"Yes," she continued talking, now moving her fingers, openly groping his crotch between the table with folded clothing stacked on top. "A flashy shirt but simple jeans... I would say white."

Giving his now hard cock a final, departing squeeze, Brenda stood up and fetched a pair of pants from a nearby table and said, "This way, please."

Feeling flustered and more than a little embarrassed by his predicament, he followed her to a series of cubicles with curtains hanging at the entrances. He was thankful that this department was empty at the moment and no one else could see the state he was in.

As she handed him the jeans, she said, "Now these a just a tad tighter than what you are wearing, so they will look better if you," she flashed him a wide smile, "Go commando."

Before he could say anything, she slid the curtain close, the metal rings making a swishing sound on the wooden rod. "I'll be standing just outside here if you need anything."

After removing his shoes, the customer unbuckled his belt with fumbling fingers, all too-aware of Brenda's presence on the other side of the curtain. When his pants were off, he hesitated before removing his shorts. But with a deep breath and a shrug, he shucked those and stood naked from the waist down (except for his socks). As he started tugging on the pants, he caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror inside the cubicle. His erection had subsided somewhat. But only somewhat.

When he had pulled his pants up to about mid-thigh, he realized that these new jeans were more than just a 'tad' tighter. Actually, unknown to him, Brenda had selected a pair two sizes smaller.

Pulling back the curtain for enough to peer inside, Brenda asked, "How are you doing in there?"

He quickly turned his back to her and desperately tried to pull the pants all the way up and fasten them. But they were too tight!

"Oh, you need some help," she said, calmly stepping inside and putting her hands on his shoulders for him to turn around and face her. "I see the problem," she announced as she reached in between his thighs to cup his balls with her left hand. "Let me hold these up out of the way..."

With the tips of the fingers of her right hand, she pressed his erection down against his thigh and told him to try it now. Together, the two of them got the jeans up over his hips and around his waist. He had to hold in his breath as he fastened them and she tugged the zipper up for him.

Brenda told him, "Now turn around and see how sexy you look... uh, what's your name?"

"G-George," the customer stammered as he turned to once more face the mirror.

Stepping up closer to him, resting her chin on his shoulder, she reached around with her left hand and traced the outline of his once more fully erect cock. "See how well these jeans show you off? They're made of linen, not denim." The whole time she was speaking, her hand was moving over his erection, squeezing and patting. As if demonstrating a product during a sales pitch. "And look how clearly the head is displayed. The ladies at the club will love these."

George just stood there, torn between excitement and humiliation. By now, Brenda was just leisurely stroking up and down on his hard cock. Trapped inside the tight leg of his pants. Trying to burst free.

"Ooops!" she giggled. "You're leaking, George!"

Brenda reached down to dab at the wet spot on the tip of his cock with her middle finger. "I'm afraid that you are going to have to buy them now. Now that you have made a stain on them."

Her hand returned to caress his cock, slowly sliding up and down it as it was held securely against his thigh. "But you were going to do that anyway, weren't you?"

What else could poor George do but nod his head as the sales clerk continued brazenly masturbating him in the fitting booth. Soon another droplet of pre-cum oozed from the tip. And another. Making the wet spot grow bigger.

"You like this, don't you, George?" she whispered in his ear. "You like creaming in your jeans. Do you want me to make you shoot? Do you want to make a big, nasty mess all over the front of your new jeans?"

She was moving her hand faster now. Forcefully tugging at the linen-covered cock as she worked to get him off.

He was staring in the mirror. Watching all that was happening. Looking at the sales clerk's face as it peeked over his shoulder. His breathing was ragged and his knees felt weak. With his right hand, he reached behind himself, seeking out her right hand while his left hand grabbed her forearm near the elbow.

"Awwww, shit!" he groaned when his orgasm hit. Flooding the tight pants with thick, gooey nut-cream. Brenda giggled throughout his ejaculation, stroking and squeezing his twitching cock as she helped him dump his load.

When she felt the imprisoned dick cease throbbing, when the grips of his hand ceased clutching, she slowed down her movements. Gradually stopping them altogether.

"Why don't you clean yourself up and get back into your old pants while I find that shirt for you?" she asked, sliding open the curtain. "And don't worry," she smiled back over her shoulder, "those jeans are machine washable. You can have them ready to wear to the club in plenty of time tonight."