“Someone seems like they’re in a better mood,” Mark laughed, his broad frame leaning against the register, his burly arms flexed across his chest. “That was a quick one, even for you.”
Dylan shrugged, a smirk forming in place of his usually annoyed expression. He looked his coworker up and down slowly, his eyes lingering on the protruding lumps formed by Mark’s meaty chest pressing against his polo. “Maybe I’m just happy to spend time with you.”
The big man let out a loud laugh and shook his head. “Ohhhh, no. Sorry, pal. Just ‘cause you finally ran outta women in this mall doesn’t mean you’re gonna get any of this.”
“Maybe I was going to give YOU some of THIS,” Dylan said coyly as he turned away and flexed his perky rear. He was glad that Mark couldn’t see the confused look on his face. He had no idea why he’d said or done any of that. He’d intended to tell the other man to shut up, or make a joke about Mark being old and jealous, not do whatever that just was. “I’m going to work the floor for a bit,” he called over his shoulder, catching himself as he added a purposeful bounce to his step.
He was still puzzling it over while he sought out his first customer. Normally Dylan hovered to the side and let the shoppers come to him. It was less work that way. If they had a question or needed help they could ask, otherwise it was one less thing for him to do. Now, without fully knowing why, as soon as he saw the man idly browsing the racks of summer clothing he headed straight for him.
“Can I help you with anything?” Dylan flashed his boyishly charming smile as he approached, looking the other man up and down the way he just had with Mark. He appeared older, at least middle-aged, with a beefy, sturdy build and thinning, salt-and-pepper hair on top of his square face. His faded red t-shirt hung loose over a brawny torso, but Dylan could see the outlines of a solid chest lurking underneath, and the man had a set of powerful, hairy arms sticking out through the sleeves. His lower half seemed just as thick, with a wide, round ass and meaty thighs filling out his cargo shorts.
“Just browsing,” the man said, flipping through a rack of button up shirts. “I’ve got a fishing trip coming up and the wife wants me to look good.”
Dylan felt his smile spread. “Well THAT won’t be hard,” he chirped, his stomach dropping as soon as he heard the words. He’d said it before he even realized he was speaking. The man smiled awkwardly, further confounding Dylan as the embarrassed young man started to regard the stranger as handsome. Hoping to deflect the attention from what he’d just said, he pulled one of the button down shirts off the rack and held it up. “This material is made to keep you cool if you’re going to be out on a boat in the sun all day. But the best part is the way it hangs...it’ll make your chest look GREAT.”
This time it was the man’s turn to slowly look Dylan up and down. He seemed genuinely surprised, and a little uncomfortable, by the athletic young man’s behavior. “I, uh, don’t really know if that’s a priority,” he said flatly.
“Please! You’ve clearly got it,” he nodded towards the man’s chest, “you should flaunt it. Your wife’ll love it! Better yet, have you thought about one of these?” Dylan felt like he was locked in the backseat of a runaway vehicle as he turned towards another rack. He could hear himself talking and feel himself moving, but he didn’t have any control, like another driver was behind the wheel. He eagerly pulled out a bright red tank-top and held it up. “With arms like those,” he said, mortified as he reached out and actually touched the other man’s girder-like biceps, “it’s a cuh-rime to keep them covered.” Dylan cringed at the way he’d drawn out the word “crime” just as much as he did the toss of his head as he said it.
“That might be a little, uh, much for me.” It was clear the older man didn’t want to be rude, but he had no idea how to respond to Dylan’s obvious flirting. “One of these should do just fine,” he said, taking a button down and quickly walking away.
Dylan’s heart raced as he stood rooted in place, feeling utterly humiliated. It wasn’t until the man left that he realized how desperate he’d been to see him in the tank-top. He’d actually been picturing it, the mental image of the beefy older man’s bare, hairy arms causing his cock to throb. His mouth watered as he imagined the patch of furry chest hanging exposed at the top, and the solid gut pushing out the front. “What the fuck is with me today…” he muttered under his breath, trying to shake the fog from his head. He’d never flirted with women customers like that before, let alone other men.
Mark’s booming voice interrupted his frantic thoughts. “Yo, Dylan, a customer needs help over in shoes.”
The embarrassed hunk’s heart sank when he made his way over and saw a tall young man that looked to be about his age waiting for him. He was clad in a tight yellow t-shirt that showed off a lean, toned build and a pair of loose, black basketball shorts that bubbled out around a solid little rear. The man’s buzzed blonde hair showed off his sharp features and Dylan felt his stomach start to flutter at the same time his feet quickened their pace. “Did you need help with something,” he asked, standing a bit too close.
The man took an instinctual step back and held up a pair of bright running shoes. “Did you have these in a size 13?”
“Oohhh, a big one,” Dylan purred, his hand brushing against the other man’s as he took the shoe and gave a slow look up and down. “We should. Have a seat and I’ll be right back.”
Dylan wondered if he was dreaming as he made his way to the back room. Things were becoming more and more surreal with each passing moment. Flirting with an old man had been bad enough, but throwing himself at a guy his own age? Someone who was a peer? That was confusing and humiliating on another level entirely. As soon as the lean young man said his shoe size, Dylan’s gaze had dropped to his shorts, seeking out the bulging lump he usually tried to ignore. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. The blonde’s tight shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination, and Dylan pictured his hands running across the shredded torso underneath while they sought out the man’s undoubtedly long, dangling hose.
“Fuck...what am I thinking about that for?!” Dylan stopped in his tracks and shook his head again, trying to force the unwanted thoughts from his brain. He had to take a moment regardless, so that his own solid pole could calm down. The thick organ was hard and straining against his khakis, clearly outlined beneath the fitted fabric. He liked his pants tight because they showed off his perky bubble, but he never thought he’d have to worry about hiding an erection from a customer, especially a male one. He managed to get himself under control and find the shoes in question, though one look at the seated blonde’s long legs made him wonder how long things would stay that way.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Dylan said, dropping to his knees when the other man started to stand. He slowly untied the laces, his fingers tingling as they felt the worn material of the old sneakers. “Are you a runner? You’ve got the legs for it,” he muttered suggestively, obviously staring at the tight, muscular thighs inches from his face. Dylan didn’t want to believe that he was trying to sneak a peek up the other man’s shorts, but the thrill he felt upon seeing the elastic bottoms of the blonde’s boxer briefs wouldn’t let him deny it. Forcing his eyes away, he let his hand drift down the other man’s solid calf as he gripped the back of his ankle and pulled the old shoe off, taking a deep inhale of the sweaty scent wafting free. Looking at the long, narrow foot, his tone was impressed. “These ARE big.”
“Uh...thanks, I guess?” the man said with a short laugh. Dylan wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole when he looked up and saw the blonde’s confused, smug grin. He could only imagine how he looked, his buff frame on it’s knees while he hungrily fawned over another guy’s foot. He slid the long, narrow extremity in and laced the shoe up, sitting back on his legs as the other man stood, the bulge he’d been so intently looking for passing inches from his face.
“How do they feel,” Dylan asked from his kneeling position while the other man took a few tentative steps.
“Good,” the toned blonde said absently, giving the shoe a look in the mirror while Dylan’s eyes were fixed on the solid bubble that supported the bottom of his tight shirt. “I’ll take ‘em.”
“Good! They look great….functional AND cute.” Dylan was chipper as the man sat and he reached to take the shoe back off.
The foot was pulled away before he could reach. “I can manage. No offense, man, but I don’t swing that way. No judgment….just not my thing,” the blonde said with a shrug friendly smile.
The words hit Dylan like a punch to the gut, made all the worse by his inability to figure out the source of his disappointment. He didn’t know if he was more upset at being taken for a gay guy, or that his sudden fantasies about the tall, lean stud in front of him would never be realized. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” he winked, screaming at himself internally the whole time.
Things only got worse. As the afternoon progressed into evening Dylan threw himself at any guy who walked through the door. It didn’t even matter what they looked like. He teased and flirted with overweight dads the same way he did with the jacked bodybuilders and athletic cross-fitters. Even his body language was changing. He stood with an arch to his back, jutting his perky rear out and thrusting his impressive chest forward. He made it a point to flex and bend to show himself off whenever he could, his handsome, athletic features a sharp contrast to the vapid, almost ditzy words leaving his mouth. He felt like he was going crazy. Dylan was aware of everything he was doing as he was doing it; he just couldn’t stop.
And despite his mortifying humiliation, his already impressive libido was running in hyperdrive. He was painfully horny. The confusing new behaviors weren’t just for show; for some reason he’d actually been attracted to all of the men he’d flirted with. He didn’t know how or why, but by the end of the day he had more naked men of all shapes and sizes running through his head than he’d ever thought possible. It was all he could think about. It was all he WANTED to think about. Even as he locked the parking lot doors and met his brawny coworker in the middle of the store he was undressing Mark’s thick, powerful body in his head.
“Dude, what the fuck was that?” the older man asked after closing the gates on the mall entrance. “I know this job can get boring but you can’t just fuck with customers. A couple of those guys actually complained.”
He wanted to tell Mark that he couldn’t help it, that he didn’t know why he was doing it either. Instead, his face was a mask of innocence as he ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair, the large, flexing bicep looking out of place next to the jutted-hip stance he adopted. “What are you even talking about?”
The big man’s eyes narrowed angrily before softening. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is this isn’t like you. Everything alright? Things not go well with what’s-her-name?”
“Everything’s fine,” Dylan shrugged. “I don’t know what people would get upset about.”
Mark searched the young man’s face for any sign that Dylan was merely messing with him but came up empty handed. His initial anger was fading, something in his gut telling him there was more to this than a simple joke. Even on a bad day, the well-mannered young jock wouldn’t act like this just to piss people off. Maybe he was trying to tell him something? It’s not like Dylan would be the first ladies man he’d ever met who later came out of the closet. It wasn’t the fact that his coworker was flirting with guys that bothered him, it was the sudden shift, how this behavior came out of nowhere, that was throwing him off. “Nevermind,” Mark sighed. “Let’s just get this inventory put away so we can get the hell outta here.”
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