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Certainly no Starbucks or Pret A Manger. I found the place alright, opened the door and stepped in. Or maybe I should say stepped back in time … It was like something from my childhood. Hell, it was like something from my grandparents’ childhood. Over to my right stood a long low counter, glass-fronted. There were shelves of shirts, gloves, even braces and what looked like garters. The smell … It smelt ageless and timeless, but slighty sweet. Something deeply masculine. I felt my crotch twitch slightly. Oh yeah. Old Father Time was standing behind the counter, a white tape measure across his shoulders, his attention fully focussed on whatever it was he had laid out on the counter. I cleared my throat, and he looked up, startled. “Excuse me, I need to buy some plain black formal trousers. They’re for a wedding. Today. This afternoon.” He nodded once and, without speaking, went for a collection of trousers hanging from a rail. He eyed me once, somewhat speculatively and handed them to. She seemed transfixed by Sheila's gaze, like a rabbit caught in the headlights. "What are you going to do to me?" Laura asked as her eyes flashed up and down Sheila's form."It's not what I'm going to with you that you should worry about." Sheila said in a strange, accented voice. "It's what he is going to do to you that should concern you most." With that she moved aside and Jon stepped up to the side of the couch.His penis now flaccid gave little hint to the impressive size to which it would soon grow. Nonetheless it still hung a good 7 or 8 inches down. Upon seeing his cock, Laura was enthralled by it, the more she watched it, the more her expression became slack and her eyes glossed over. She studied it as she slowly slid off the couch to kneel on the floor in front of Jon. In response to this, his cock began to extend from his body. Slowly, as if entranced by his growing organ she reached out to gently take it in her hand. Jon began to stiffen with this contact, a bead of.
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