Finding My Sir Ch. 03

"You will decide, Phil." I was standing in a kind of jockstrap made of silk which did exactly nothing to hide my genitals, and there was another pause as my eyes met his in the Obedience Game. My erection instantly surged. Franco knew better than to say a word...that's why he could charge the prices he charged.

Phil, of course, chose what I should wear out of the shop—white slacks with a no-lapel heather green sportcoat made in Italy, along with some soft leather sandals. Under the pants, I wore the white silken jockstrap....just because.

We carried a few bags with us, but Franco would have most of it delivered, along with the many pieces that needed alteration. "We may have to have him back to ensure a good fit over the butt," warned Franco. "Jameson has a wonderful butt, but it has a very special shape."

"Delivered where?" I asked, back in the car.

"My place for now," said Phil. "Until we can find you a new apartment."

I glanced up at the front seat where I knew Carl could hear every word we said.

"I have no secrets from Carl, Jameson. None. You can always speak freely in front of him."

"Just pretend I'm not here," chimed in Carl. "Someday it will all go in my novel, with the names changed of course."

"Holy fuck," I said.

"Fucking is indeed holy, in my opinion," said Phil. "Please be more careful with language, and do not use that word unless we are in the holy space of the bedroom."

"Okay, Phil," I said. "I'll be more careful with my language."

"Thank you so much, Jameson. I know it's hard to change the crude habits we have all learned in this time."

I paused, then continued: "I can't afford a new apartment, Phil. Not right now."

"I can afford it, Jameson. And as I said on our date, I will also be providing you with a generous allowance. I can't have you living a substandard life while under my mentorship."

"I can't let you...."

He looked over and raised his eyebrows in expectation.

"Yes, Phil," I said and nodded.

"Superb, Jameson. What a wonderful day so far!"

For the first time that day, his hand strayed to my crotch, where he gave it a little squeeze of affection.

"On to the shoe store—you know the one, Carl. And then, I think Giovanni's Haberdashery. I didn't want to say, but I thought Franco's shoe selection was abysmal today, and I hated all the ties."

"But we bought these sandals, and I think three ties."

"I didn't want to insult the man!"

His hand stayed on my crotch, tightly, and I put my hand down on top of it with affection as my erection increased and he squeezed harder. I was getting used to the idea that when I was with Phil, I would be touched casually, and my erections would come and go more or less constantly, as he desired. I wondered about his erections...but I could not tell by looking. Already I wasn't worried about Carl seeing this kind of play.

"Thank you, Phil, for all the fine clothes. They are amazing."

"We will enjoy them together, dear boy. I am a religious man. As I said, I believe that we were put here to enjoy each other's company, but also to take care of one another, to create and enjoy beautiful things together, and to maintain the dignity of human culture...together. Think of it as art and humanism merged, in architecture and in life."

His grip became even tighter and I could not help but squirm just a little. Then he unzipped my fly and reached in and caressed my penis, barely covered by the silk fabric. I glanced at the front seat, where Carl kept his eyes steadfastly on the road. I allowed myself to enjoy Phil's touch. To become very hard for him. To relax.

In a few minutes, we pulled up to a store where the sign read, "Fine Italian Footwear -- Exclusive Importers."

"Can you hold on just a moment, Carl? Jameson will need to reduce his erection before we leave the car. These new pants are so tight, people will see everything."

"No problem, Mr. Phil," said Carl. "I can pull up right here, and I'll turn up the A/C." Which he did.

"I could use some new shoes myself," said Phil idly as he removed his hand and zipped me up. I was still gripping the seat and breathing hard.

.................

Night came.

I had been anticipating night with a mixture of excitement and fear, for I knew with certainty that I would have sex with Phil, and I was nervous about it. He did not touch me again during the drive to his building, as we passed through the streets, I realized that I had never even seen Phil with his shirt off, much less seen his privates, though he had seen me naked -- and "more than naked" when wearing a silken jockstrap. And of course, he had handled me now several times in the way a strong man handles a lover. What would it be like to make love in such circumstances? It was all very well to be submissive, to be treasured, to be handled, to have my erections stimulated by this man as in my many fantasies—but all very narcissistic and safe in its way. Now, to have sex with a man? I had often imagined the specifics of sex with a man--and always with a stronger, dominant, older man. But in real life? Would I...actually like it? I fingered the golden chain around my wrist.

When we got to Phil's magnificent condo with the broad view of Los Angeles, the sun was long past setting, but its afterglow could be seen through the enormous, gold-framed picture window that faced west. Carl helped carry up bags and boxes.

"Please call Lori and let her know you won't be home tonight," said Phil. "You needn't break up with her on the phone. Make some excuse. You will break up with her on Monday."

"Yes, Phil."

As I made my call, Carl unpacked bags and laid out clothing for me on the bed in the spare room. A selection of "erotic wear" mostly, but a few practical things for the morning as well. He never said a word and was careful not to catch my eye in case he might embarrass me.

Dinner arrived, delivered from a very nice health food place nearby.

And then Carl was gone. Now it was just me and my new Sir.

We stood together looking at the last of the light to the west.

"Jameson, I'd like you to wear those white shorts for dinner, along with the green Italian coat, but with no shirt. Wear the genital-form-fitting briefs underneath—you know the ones. Why don't you take a shower and change while I lay out this wonderful food? I will shower later."

I turned to meet his eyes. He reached out and stroked my cheek as he had on Thursday, and I felt again the happiness I had felt after my obedient masturbation in the morning—that sense of rightness coming into the universe. I turned my head slightly and kissed his palm as it passed my lips, and I said,

"Yes, Phil."

...to be continued