Tailor Made

* RRRRRIIIIIIIIIP *

Oh, damn.

I pulled my arm out of my Italian wool suit jacket and examined the rip in the fabric. One of the seams under the right arm had split, opening up a large, unsightly hole that I was sure my little travel sewing kit wouldn't be able to patch.

"Hello? Front desk?" I asked, picking up the receiver on the bedside phone.

"Yes, sir?" came the reply from the other end of the line.

"This is Mr. Sanders in Room 573. Do you offer tailoring services here? I've unfortunately got a nasty tear on my suit coat."

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir, but we don't have a tailor on staff."

"Do you know of somebody in the area who might be able to do an emergency repair? I must have this for a meeting this afternoon, I can't be late."

I heard her fumbling through some papers. "I've got a name here for a tailor over on Fifth, might be able to help you. We've sent guests over before, might be worth a shot, mm?"

"That would be wonderful, thank you, I'll be down shortly for directions." I had a meeting in three hours and certainly didn't have time to go looking for a new suit jacket. I cursed my luck.

The receptionist at the front desk gave me the address and told me how to get there. It was only three blocks' walk, so I hot-footed it out of the hotel, suit jacket still draped across my arm.

Wandering through the old part of town down 5th Street, somewhat aimlessly, I saw the building the desk clerk had told me to look for. It was a rather unassuming brownstone but it had a green and yellow striped awning. I looked at the hanging sign displaying the street number - 415 South Fifth. Must be the place. I buzzed the door and it clicked open.

"Hello?" I asked, walking into the shop. It was a small place, one of those old-timey shops where you had the feeling the proprietor lived in the apartment upstairs and ran things out of the lower level. I half expected to have seen an old lady, her hair in curlers, running the wash through an upstairs window on a line between buildings.

"Hello, is anyone here?"

"Just a minute." came a response from a back room. English accent, I thought, maybe Irish. Pretty girlish voice. I sat on one of the parson's chairs in the front room, hoping I was in the right place. If not it might be quite the odd circumstance.

A redheaded woman ducked her head out a room down the hallway, then back in. "Sorry, just a bit longer."

I fidgeted with my suit jacket. A cool autumn breeze blew into the shop and I noticed that the door hadn't latched and was swinging open, so I went to close it. Finally I heard footsteps again, and the woman walked out of the room and down the hall towards me. She was maybe about 25, with long legs, shoulder-length hair, ample breasts, dressed demurely in tan pants and a white blouse that had a little lace ruffle at the top. Very pretty girl, I thought. I MUST be in the wrong place.

"Hello. May I help you?" she asked, smiling, her hands clasped together.

"Yes, I'm looking for Marcus? I'm looking for a tailor... do forgive me if I've stumbled into the wrong shop."

"No, quite the opposite, but I'm afraid Marcus is out of town for the week." She extended her hand. "I'm Julia. You're ...?"

"Lee. Lee Sanders. A pleasure, Julia." I said, tipping my hat and shaking her hand. "I suppose, then, I'll need to seek the assistance of another shop."

"To the contrary. What've you got? I'm sure I can take care of it." she said.

"Well, it's a rather expensive suit -- "

"Yes, I see," she said, running her slender, soft fingers along the fabric of the suit coat. "You got this in Milan, did you?"

"Yes, how did you --"

"I recognize the stitching work. Marcus is my father; he and I go to the trade shows every year to make sure we stay on top of the latest. Can't hardly mend something if you don't know how it was put together." she smiled.

I handed her the coat, noticing how pretty her eyes were. They weren't hazel, but rather a light green with flecks of gold and a little bit of chocolate brown.

"Oh, this is. Mmm." she frowned, her nose wrinkled. "Come with me, Lee."

She led me down the hallway to a workshop, a bigger room than I expected to see in a small row house like that, where bolts of fabric lined the wall like books and there must have been ten different kinds of sewing machines.

"Julia, I'm afraid I'm in quite a hurry --"

"No worries, I can fix this. I just have to make sure I have the right threads. This is a specific wool we don't use much. You've ripped this right up... you he-man, you." she said, giggling and squeezing my bicep. She lingered there for a couple seconds. Her fingers were warm and soft and she blushed slightly before tearing off into another room.

She returned with two spools of thread clutched in her hand and flung herself into a side chair by a sewing machine. It was an old antique model, sat down into a ornate wooden table made just for that purpose. It had either been in their family for decades, I thought, or they had paid a pretty penny at an antique shop. All I really cared about was whether it worked.

I walked over to observe and stood slightly behind her chair as she turned the coat inside out. She reached down and pulled a tool out of an open drawer in the table, and then started to pull the lining apart. She worked quickly, but masterfully - she obviously knew what she was doing. And from where I stood, I also had a good view of her cleavage. Her milky white skin was lightly freckled on top of her breasts, held closely together in the blouse by a nude-colored bra. Her neck was the same color, and I suddenly longed to touch her, to run my hand along her soft cheek, to smell her hair. I felt a twinge in my pants as my cock began to stir.

Julia had continued to work, gently removing the lining from the affected area of the suit coat, oblivious to my admiring her beauty. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, her eyebrows raised and lowered. It was as if her entire body was involved in her task. She took some thread and raised it to her eye, squinted, and satisfied it was the right color, extended her tongue and licked the end of it. Her tongue was a deep rose red, and I could only wish that it was the head of my cock she was licking. Involuntarily, I let out a slight moan.

Julia's concentration was broken and she turned her head to look at me. Her face was inches from my erect penis.

"Oh. My." she said, bringing her hand up to her lips. "Is, uh... is that for me?"

I gulped. "Uh... I, I'm sorry..."

Julia turned her torso, giving me an even better view of her breasts. "Don't be sorry, Lee. I'm used to men paying, uh.... undue attention." She gave me a half-smile and shifted in her chair, uncrossing her legs again.

"I really should sit down so you can finish your work." I said quietly, visibly embarrassed. I was surprised when she stood up.

"I think that can wait." she said, and wrapped her arms around my neck. Her lips hovered an inch from mine, parted slightly. Her neck was tilted; her eyes were closed. Her body pressed into mine and the kiss happened naturally. I wrapped my arms around her waist and drew her closer to me, pressing my lips into hers.

She raised up on her tiptoes but couldn't stay there very long. I picked her up and held her in my arms. She giggled like a teenage schoolgirl.

"Ooh! You are strong, aren't you." she cooed and kissed me again. I turned my attention to her shoulder-length wavy auburn locks, nuzzling her neck and her ears. She gasped as I nibbled her earlobe and planted soft, delicate kisses in a line down her neck to the collar of her blouse.

"Put me down on the table over there, Lee." she whispered into my ear. "I want to suck your cock."

I did as she asked, and she wasted no time undoing my belt and the zipper on my pants. She pulled my pants down to my ankles and put her hands on my hips, running her fingers up and down the length of my silk boxer shorts.

"Silk. Very nice. These look lovely on you." she said, nervously. Her eyes were wider as she looked at my cock pressing against the thin fabric. "But I think they'll look better down."

She carefully slid them down to avoid snapping the elastic against my cock. My eight inch tool sprung free, stayed horizontal for a moment, then curved slightly upward. Julia licked her lips. "Oh, it's beautiful!"

"Thanks, I guess." I said. I'd had girls remark on how big my cock was before, but no one had ever called it "beautiful." I wasn't sure how to respond, but when she placed her hand on it, it twitched and I gasped. Her long, slender fingers wanked my shaft, sliding up over the head. Pre-cum oozed from the opening and she took some of it in her fingers, playing with it, watching the clear liquid string between her fingers like glue. Finally she laughed and licked it from her fingers.

"Mmm, now let's see how the rest of you tastes." She took the head of my cock into her mouth, her tongue arched, running along the underside and wiggling back and forth. My hips thrust forth, eager to feel more of her warm mouth on my shaft. She made a surprised noise, and then matched the movement of my hips, taking about half of my cock into her mouth. I could feel the head nearing her throat and was disappointed when she pulled back. A strand of drool stretched between my cock and her mouth. She wiped her mouth with her hand and looked at me in amazement. I guessed I was bigger than the last lover she'd had and I'd caught her unawares.

"Fuck! You've got a big shaft. Is that how you like it? Like to ram that thick tool down a girl's throat, do you?" Julia said, stroking my cock with her spit. "Well, let's have it, come on."

She put my cock back in her mouth, stretching her jaw, slowly forcing more of me into and down her throat. I groaned with pleasure as her soft tongue slid along my shaft but she was right - I liked it harder than that. I put my right hand on the back of her head and began to fuck Julia's mouth, driving more of my thick cock between her pretty lips. She fought the impulse to gag and her eyes rolled back in her head. She made slurping noises as a mixture of drool and pre-cum ran out of her mouth and down her chin. One of Julia's hands pulled at the root of my cock and fondled my balls, and the other was down her own pants, playing with her pussy. As divine as this was, I had a hunch her jaw was getting tired and her pussy would feel even better. I pulled out of her mouth and encouraged her to take her pants off, which she did quite readily.

"I see we have similar tastes," I said as she kicked off her pants leg to reveal a pair of white silk hipster panties, a significant wet spot shining in the middle of them. She smiled, still stroking my cock. "Although you would look better in a thong."

"I would look better with your cock inside me." she said, pulling her blouse over her head and unsnapping her bra. She was completely naked now, and she reached out, grabbing my ass cheeks. "Fuck me, Lee, fuck my tight little pussy."

My eyes devoured the beautiful nymph seated in front of me, her hair tousled, her breasts heaving high on her chest with each breath. Her little pussy lips were the same color as her tongue, and seemed to bloom from her thighs, like a rare flower. She looked, for lack of a better word, delicious. My cock throbbed, aching to be inside her. I reached down and pulled her legs apart wide enough for my hips to fit between them. She bit her lower lip, and threw her head back.

"Oh, god, please fuck me." Julia begged. Her nipples were engorged and she pinched at her left breast, her right hand grabbing onto my cock. "Do you know how long it's been since I had a man?"

Even if it hadn't been six months since I'd been laid, I would have needed no other encouragement. Julia took my cock in hand again and positioned it at the entrance to her pussy and I pressed it into her, the mushroom-shaped head easily slipping inside her soft folds. She was incredibly tight, though, and she winced as my girth began pushing inside her. I gave her a minute or two to adjust, and when her breathing slowed and she began to rock her hips, I began to pump in and out of her.

"Oh, fuck, Lee. Ohhh, yes, fuck me. That feels sooo good... ohh..."

"Julia, you're tight as a drum, oh, my god, your pussy feels fantastic!" I moaned, leaning into her. My cock slipped further into her pussy, almost as if it was sucking me in. I could feel her hips shifting on the table and I grabbed her ass, burying myself inside her in a single thrust. Her eyes rolled back in her head, she groaned loudly, but her mouth stayed open.

"You like that, Julia?" I asked. "You like having my thick cock in your pussy?"

"Yes, Lee. Fuck me. Oh, god, fuck my tight little cunt." she egged me on.

I slowly slid my cock in and out of her pussy, afraid of hurting her. She inhaled and exhaled sharply through her nose, then opened her eyes and stared directly at me. The look in her eyes was pure, unadulterated, cock-slut lust.

"No. I said FUCK ME."

With that, I pulled my cock out until the head was just barely inside her, and drove myself in to the hilt. She groaned.

"FUCK! Yes."

I slid out and then in again, faster. Then once more.

"AAH! Fuck, yeah. Bang me, bang your little slut, I'm your little fucking cock-slut, Lee." she spat, her eyes fully open, staring at me as my chest bounced against her magnificent tits.

I drove my cock into her tight little quim over and over. She was almost uncomfortably tight, but my cock didn't care. I kept pounding away at her pussy, the little red curls on her pubic mound bouncing with each thrust. Julia was pinching her nipples.

"Fuck yeah, oh, god, fuck me, yesss... oh, god, yes, fuck my tight little hole with that big cock! Aah! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she cried, the sounds of wanton fucking filling the shop.

"Oh, god, Julia, I love fucking your pussy, I love fucking your tight little cunt, you're so hot..." I moaned. I wanted to do this forever, but deep inside I could feel my balls welling up, full of sperm, waiting for the right moment to explode inside her.

She was waiting for it too. "Fuck, Lee, I need your cum inside me." she gasped, her fingers wandering down to rub her clit. "I need your fucking load, come on, shoot it deep in my pussy. Ohh, god."

"Are you... ohh, fuck... are you on the pill, Julia?"

She leaned up and whispered in my ear. "Not a fucking chance."

Oh, shit. I have to pull out, I told myself. I have to pull out, can't get this cute little 25-year-old pregnant in her father's workshop...

but I didn't. I couldn't. Her pussy was too tight, too wet, and we were both nearing the edge. I slammed my cock into her cunt hard, driving it in and out like a jackhammer, feeling the head of my cock hitting her cervix. The table squeaked and I put my hands underneath her to keep her from falling. She squealed as her orgasm washed over her.

"FUCK! Fucking come inside me! Yes! YEEEESSSSSSS!"

Her pussy began to spasm, squeezing my cock like a vise, drawing it deep inside her. Under that pressure, I had no choice. I grabbed her hips, pulled her as far as I could onto my cock, and screamed as I exploded inside her.

"JULIA! FUCK! I'M CUMMMMMIIIINNNGGGG!"

I felt spurt after spurt of my hot seed filling her tight pussy, coating her inside walls and sliding down the shaft of my cock as she kept squeezing me, rocking back and forth on my cock, milking me for every drop in my balls.

Finally her entire body went limp, including her pussy, and I was glad I had hold of her because she would have fallen. She wrapped her arms around me and nestled her messy red head into my chest. I had never taken off my shirt and it was absolutely soaked with sweat.

"Fuck. That was amazing." she said under her breath, a satisfied smile on her face. "God, you're just... oh."

I smiled, sweat pouring off my brow, still holding her in my arms. "Julia, you're the one who's amazing."

My cock slipped out of her pussy with a *pop* sound. I looked down and saw her little dark pink lips, flushed with the pounding they had just taken, still quivering. My cum dripped out of her well-fucked pussy and puddled on the sewing table and the floor.

"Your, uh... your coat." she said, reality beginning to take hold of her senses again. "I should finish your coat."

"Shh." I said, and drew her close to me. She sighed and sunk into my chest, her eyes closed, a look of deep contentment on her face. Finally she pulled away, claiming that she had to go to the bathroom.

She came back and slipped into her panties and her pants, but not her shirt. I took that as a cue to dress myself. I stood behind her again, rubbing her shoulders as she sewed and hummed to herself. Finally she tied off the last stitch and smiled.

"'S a masterpiece." she said, holding it up between me and her luscious tits. I slipped into it. She had built just enough give into the stitches that I slipped into the jacket without a problem.

"Juila, your father should retire. I think you're a master seamstress in your own right." I said, beaming.

"Thank you." she said.

"How much do I owe you?" I asked.

"Consider this one... on the house." she said. I kissed her, deeply. Her hand ran gently down my chest.

"Did you not say you were in a hurry?" she asked.

I looked at my watch. I had to be downtown for a meeting in thirty minutes.

"Oh, shit," I said. "I have a meeting, you're right."

"You should go." she said, wistfully. "Traffic's hell this time of day."

"Can I, uh... can I come see you after work?"

Her face lit up. "Come see me tomorrow afternoon if you can. Father will be out doing deliveries."

I kissed her again and gathered my things, darting out the door. I saw her face pressed up against the window as I walked briskly back down the street to go get my rental car.

The next afternoon, just as agreed, I went back to the shop. I buzzed at the door, and just as it had the day before, it clicked open.

"Hello? Julia?" I asked.

An old man walked out of the back hallway, from the same room where Julia and I had madly fucked not twenty-four hours before. He was maybe sixty years old, with crinkled grey hair and a thick beard.

"Are you Marcus?" I asked.

"I am." the old man responded, in the same kind of accent Julia had seduced me with the day prior. "Can I help ya?"

"I came to see Julia." I said. "She helped me with a mend yesterday and I came by to thank her before I left."

"Julia?" the old man said, obviously confused. " 'S no Julia here."

I looked out at the sign hanging above the old brownstone. 415 South Fifth. "Are you sure?" I asked. "She was a young red-headed woman, about twenty-five, a little over one and a half meters tall? She said she was your daughter."

The old man's face turned from one of confusion to one of sadness. "Sir, I don't know what you're on about. I did have a daughter Julia, a beautiful redhead as you say...

but she died two years ago."

He turned to look down the hallway. "She was a wonderful girl. Very kind, very caring... Green eyes the color of jade. Smart as a whip. Learned everything her pa taught her. I told her some day she'd take over the shop."

I did my best to pick up my jaw off the floor.

"Sometimes when I'm lonely, I can still feel her beside me at the table. Handing me thread, working the pedals." he continued. He looked at my suit coat. "She specialized in Italian work. Like your suit. Whoever did that bit o' stitching, you were lucky their hands touched it."

A cool breeze blew through the shop. I turned to look at the door.

It was closed.