Fucked in the Fitting Room Part One

"When my lover finds a dress on the sales rack, I get more than I bargain for."

My boyfriend, Allen, loves to wear women’s clothing. It’s something he’s been doing awhile now, probably three or four years. We both get very excited about going to our local department store to hunt for new additions to Allen’s wardrobe. Last night we had one such shopping trip and we both had a luscious time.

“Grab a buggy,” said Allen when we entered the store. “I plan to load up tonight.”

“I bet you do,” I said and winked at Allen.

Allen is six feet tall and built rock solid from head to toe. His skin is tanned deep brown from hours spent cruising beneath the sun on his Harley Davidson cycle. He’s not the type of guy you’d expect to see sorting through the sales racks at the Allmart ladies department.

But, there we were in the clearance racks filled with off-season garments.

“Oooooh, look at this,” said Allen, holding a pink pastel dress against his massive chest.

“Looks like it’d be a tight squeeze,” I said. “But you know I love you in pink.”

A middle-aged woman shopping nearby overheard my comment to Allen and flashed us a disapproving scowl. Allen and I just giggled. We’re used to the stares by now and we can certainly understand them. Allen was once ultra-conservative, until that fateful day I begged him to parade around in a pair of my panties. Now he’s very open-minded when it comes to sexual matters.

“Why don’t you try it on?” I said. “To be safe.”

“I think it’ll fit but okay,” said Allen. I pushed the buggy to the mens fitting room with Allen close beside me.

A man about Allen’s age stood behind the fitting room counter.

“How many items do you have?” said the man.

“One,” said Allen holding the dress up so the man could inspect it.

“Is this some kind of joke?” asked the man.

“Is it illegal to try on a dress?” said Allen. Allen’s chest popped out. I prayed the clerk would shut his mouth before Allen shut it for him.

“No, I suppose it isn’t,” said the man and he led Allen to an empty fitting room then busied himself at the counter.

A few minutes later, Allen stuck his head out of the room.

“Ready?” he said.

“Let’s see!” I said. By now I was getting excited!

“Tada!” shouted Allen as he threw the door open and stepped out from behind it.

The man at the counter glanced up from his work just as Allen twirled around in his dress.

“I… beg your pardon,” stammered the man, no doubt intimidated by the big brown biceps stuffed into Allen’s dress sleeves. “I need to reshelve a few things,” he continued. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

“Take your time,” I said as the man scooped up an armful of ill-fitting mens jeans and shirts and scampered away.

Allen and I giggled uncontrollably. “Babe, you look sooooo luscious,” I said. “I can’t wait to get you home!”

“So don’t,” said Allen.

“Huh?” I said, afraid of where this was going.

Allen grabbed me by the arms and pushed me into the fitting room. He closed the door behind us and locked it. Then he sat me down on the wooden bench in the room and pulled the hem of the dress up to his chin, revealing the cock I’ve loved for years but never tire of seeing…or tasting.