May I Be of Assistance?

MAY I BE OF ASSISTANCE?

The thing about anniversaries is, they come every year. So why was it that every year, on the same exact day, Ted happened to forget it was his anniversary? He had been married to his beautiful wife for six years now, and they even had their second child growing in Karen's belly at that very moment. His family meant everything to him but, for some reason, remembering things like birthdays and anniversaries and other important days just didn't seem to register in his mind. That is how Ted found himself rushing to the mall at 4:30 pm on the night of his sixth wedding anniversary.

Not only had Ted forgotten the day, he had also forgotten to get Karen a gift. On top of that, during his weekly diner dash with the guys in the office, he had managed to stain a nice streak of mustardy ketchup down his shirt and tie. Lucky for him, there was still plenty of time to pick out something nice for Karen and get a new outfit before the dinner reservation he had made that afternoon.

He entered the mall near the Dillard's, as he remembered that being a nice, central location with the quickest access to the best stores. Cutting through the department store, he made his way into the main mall and immediately felt out of his element. Where am I? he thought. The mall was certainly not how he remembered it. Gone were the once flourishing overpriced clothing stores that catered to pre-teens; the bookstore now sat vacant, a sign advertising the going-out-of-business blowout still hanging in the window; and the shoe store up the way was offering fifty percent off storewide. In place of the businesses he once knew, there were now stands offering Korean massages and eyebrow threading, a Halloween pop-up shop that would be gone by November 1st, and around every corner there was a stand offering to fix your broken phone. Why they needed so many stands that served the same function, Ted had no idea.

Not knowing which path was best, he took off to the left. He vaguely remembered there being a Kay Jeweler's down that way. As he navigated the mall, he felt as if he was witnessing the death of his youth. When he had been younger, the cool thing to do on the weekends was hang out at the mall. Ted and his friends had spent countless nights doing nothing but sitting in the food court, looking at clothes they couldn't afford, and dicking around when the security guard wasn't looking. It was the quintessential thing for their generation to do for fun. But with the rise of online shopping, now all that was left were vacant stores and power walkers, making the most of the mall's shelter as the weather cooled a little too low for comfort.

Ted reached the end of the road, by the Macy's, where the Kay Jeweler's had been before. The glass doors were shut, and the sign plastered on them read: "Thanks for 20 great years." I guess that's that, he thought. Karen wasn't much of a jewelry person anyway, but what do you get someone for a sixth anniversary that you haven't already given them in the first six years of your marriage? He honestly didn't know the answer to that question. Without dwelling too much on it, he did the next thing he could think of, which was go into Macy's.

The first floor of the Macy's store was divided up into the women's perfume and make-up division, which took up way more of the floor than one would think was humanly possible; the other half was made up of the men's clothing. He perused the small stand of women's jewelry in the center of it all and wasn't impressed by what he saw. There was nice stuff, sure, but it was all either too cheap in quality or too expensive in price. He didn't really have the time to be picky, but he could think of a couple hundred reasons to keep looking a bit longer.

With Macy's and Kay's down, Ted took a step back and assessed his options. Up and down the strip, he saw no viable options for what he was looking for. Depressed and a bit ashamed at having waited this long to get his wife a gift, he made his way back through the mall until he reached Dillard's. Like Macy's, he checked out the jewelry and was again disappointed. He looked at his watch and noticed he was running out of time. Just as he was about to panic, a voice called from behind him.

"May I be of assistance?" the voice said.

Ted turned around and saw an older gentleman, the kind of retiree that had picked up extra shifts at the department store to make ends meet when social security and a pension didn't cut it. The man was a tad shorter than Ted at about five-foot-eight and had a bushy mop of silver hair. A round belly extended away from his waistline, contained only by the sleek black shirt that was tucked neatly in his equally black slacks.

"I . . ." Ted began but stopped. "No, I'm good," he said. He never accepted help from the store workers. It wasn't that he never needed help, he just had this weird way of not wanting to inconvenience them with his problem. Karen often pointed out to him that that was their job, but Ted was a man and preferred to be stubborn about such things.

"Very well," the salesclerk said. "Let me know if you change your mind." He flashed Ted a smile and then returned to straightening the t-shirts on the display.

Ted turned back to the jewelry and was reminded of his dire situation. He glanced at his watch again. 5:30. Dinner was set for 6:15. If he didn't hurry, he'd have to show up empty handed, and Karen would know he had forgotten for the fourth year in a row. He just wanted to look like he cared as much as he really did. It wasn't his fault he was forgetful. Karen knew that, and was super great about his memory lapses, but that didn't mean it didn't bother her. She was just too kind to say anything about it. Ted turned and saw the old man was still nearby. He swallowed his pride.

"Actually," Ted said, getting the man's attention, "I think I could use a little help after all."

The old man smiled and made his way over to the glass case. "You're not the first guy to change his mind. But, that's what I'm here for."

There were those words. It was as if Karen was right there beside him. He decided in that moment not to tell his wife about this experience. He'd never hear the end of it.

"What can I do for you?" the man said, peering over his glasses, which rested dangerously on the bridge of his nose.

"Well," Ted replied, glancing down at the man's nametag. "I'm looking for an anniversary present for my wife, Bert."

Bert nodded as if he had heard that hundreds of times before. "I see. Congratulations on another year. And what anniversary is this?"

"Six."

"Well, we don't sell anything sweet here, so you're left with something either made from iron or wood. Do you have any preference on either of those?"

"Iron or wood?" Ted asked.

"Those are the traditional symbols of sixth anniversaries," Bert said. "They symbolize the strength and durability of your bond."

Ted was way out of his element on this one. "Oh, I don't know. What would you recommend?"

Bert gave a slight chuckle. Ted was very much the typical oblivious husband. He knew his way around the female but didn't get how they worked.

"If you want my honest opinion," Bert said, making his way around the corner to another jewelry display, "I'd go with this." He reached into the case and pulled out a bracelet. "It's a stone and wood bead bracelet made by Caputo & Co." Those words obviously meant nothing to Ted, but the old man continued. "The stone and wood give the beads a natural beauty while representing the malleability of some of nature's toughest elements. It is both an affordable option, as well as one that can be worn every day, as opposed to some of the pricier options."

"May I?" Ted asked.

"Of course."

Bert handed the bracelet to Ted, who looked it over. He reminded himself that Karen didn't really care for jewelry, but without an idea of what she might like instead, he thought it best to take Bert's advice. Though he knew fairly quickly he would buy the bracelet, he wanted to act like he was putting some major thought into the decision. Bert knew the charade and let it continue. He watched Ted as he tried to look deep in thought. "Well?" Bert asked.

"This will be great. I'll take it."

Bert took the bracelet back from Ted. "Will there be anything else?"

"I don't think so. The bracelet is enough, right?"

"It can be," Bert replied, giving just a hint that more might be better.

Ted looked at the old man and indulged him. "What else do guys usually get for an anniversary like this?"

"It depends on what they have planned for the occasion."

"Not much," Ted admitted. "This is all a bit last minute."

Bert stepped around the corner of the counter and reached for some wrapping supplies. "There's still plenty of time to make the night a memorable one. I imagine you're doing dinner?"

"At the fondue place. I don't even remember its name."

"And then?"

Ted thought nothing about Bert's prying. He needed all the help he could get. "I'm not sure. I suppose we'll do something after."

"My dear boy," Bert cried, "do you love your wife or not?"

"Of course, I do."

"Then come with me." Bert led Ted down the winding path through the make-up and over to the escalator. They went up to the men's floor and headed for the shirts. "First, we're going to get you a shirt to replace that mess."

Ted looked down at his shirt. He couldn't argue with that. Bert sized him up. "What are you? A fifteen? Sixteen?"

"Fifteen and a half," Ted replied. "Though I don't mind if the neck is a little loose."

Bert continued on, ignoring that. He grabbed a few dress shirts and a pair of 34 slacks, then led Ted to the dressing room. "Here, try these on. I've got one more thing to grab and I'll be right back."

Ted grabbed the clothes from Bert and shut the door. He took his shirt and pants off and reached for the first shirt. It was a chartreuse Alfani shirt that fit great in the upper body, but was a little too tight in his midsection, where his predilection for beer had had a negative effect on his waistline. He tossed the shirt aside and reached for the sky-blue Calvin Klein. This one fit much better. Next, he slipped on the pants which, like the first shirt, were a bit too tight on him. He usually wore a size 36; Bert had gone a little too small.

A knock came on the door. Ted opened it and Bert pushed his way inside. "That shirt looks great. The pants aren't going to do it, are they?"

"I'm a 36," Ted said.

"I can see that," Bert said, observing the unbuttoned pants that Ted and his small belly were bulging out of. "We didn't have any 36's on the shelf. I'll have to figure something out."

"Can't I just wear the pants I have?" Ted asked. This was turning into a much bigger ordeal than he had bargained for.

"You absolutely cannot." Bert was very adamant about this.

"Okay."

"We can worry about the pants in a minute. For now, I want you to put your preconceived notions aside for a second and just trust me on something."

"And what would that be?"

Bert reached into his back pocket and grabbed a folded-up undergarment he had tucked back there. He grabbed the ends of it with both hands and extended it in front of himself, stretching it wide so Ted could see the full thing. Ted looked at the royal blue Armani thong in Bert's hands and nearly fell over from laughter. "You can't be serious."

"I absolutely am," Bert replied, not amused by Ted's laughter.

"Guys don't actually wear those, do they?"

"You'd be surprised."

Ted's face said he was indeed surprised, but then it straightened out when he realized the clerk was not laughing with him. "Wait, seriously?"

"Most men would never admit it, but we sell more man thongs than you'd believe."

Curiosity was getting the better of him. "Would you wear one?" he asked Bert.

"I'm wearing one right now," Bert said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He yanked his shirt out from his pants, reached in them at the hip, and pulled up the blue strap.

Ted sighed deeply. "I don't know that I could do that."

"It's underwear. If you want to give your wife something memorable for her anniversary, try the thong on."

It took a few seconds, but Ted eventually took the thong from Bert. Bert smiled, as he usually did when the men gave in. "I'll go see about those pants."

Ted looked down at the thong in his hand. What have you gotten yourself into? he asked himself. He slipped out of his pants and dropped his tighty whiteys, tossing them on the pile of clothes in the corner. Stepping into the leg holes of the thong, he pulled it up around his waist. He straightened the strap until it slid in between his cheeks, and then situated his dick until it fit within the confines of the pouch. While the feeling of having fabric rubbing against his asshole was a weird sensation, he realized the thong didn't actually look that bad on him. Sure, he needed to lose about thirty pounds, but it wasn't bad considering. It actually had a nice flattering effect on his pouch, something his y-front Hanes didn't quite manage. And the thin blue strip disappearing into his crack did have a sexy appeal that Karen might be into, depending on her mood. Maybe Bert was right. Maybe this could get her to put out like she used to when they had first met. It was just the type of spontaneity that might bring back her sex drive.

Bert pushed back into the room carrying another pair of pants. He stopped when he saw Ted wearing the thong. "Well doesn't that look nice," he said.

Ted realized the clerk was back and it hit him that he was standing there in nothing but a shirt and thong. He seized up and covered himself with his hands. Bert swatted his hands away. "Stop that. You act like a man has never seen you in your underwear before."

"Not like this," Ted squealed, trying to cover himself again.

"And I suppose you'll cover up when your wife sees you too?"

This struck a chord in Ted. Bert had a point. If he actually went through with this madness, Karen was going to have to see it sometime or another. And would she laugh as he had done, or would it do as Bert claimed? He would never know if he didn't give it a shot. He lowered his hands.

"See?" Bert asked. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Ted shook his head but remained silent.

"I didn't think so," Bert continued. "Now, I checked around, and there aren't any more 36s in that style."

"Then what are those?" Ted asked, referring to the pants in Bert's hands.

"Oh, these? These are for me," Bert replied.

"For you?" Now Ted was sufficiently confused.

"Well, we established the 34s were too small for you, and you'd practically be swimming in 38s. I, on the other hand, am a 36 but can fit quite comfortably in a 38. It's just a matter of where I rest the waistband."

"Why can't I wear the 38s?"

Bert looked at him as if he had said the stupidest thing in the world. "Do you want to show up to your anniversary dinner looking like a total schmuck?"

"No. Then what are you proposing?"

"I'm going to let you borrow my pants," Bert offered.

Ted shrunk back. "Isn't that a bit extreme? I don't want to wear another man's pants."

"Do you want to impress your wife or not?" he asked. Bert held up his watch. "Seems to me you're running out of time to decide."

Ted glanced at his own watch. Bert certainly was right about that. "Fine, fine. Just give me the pants."

A smile crossed Bert's face as he reached for his belt buckle. He unfastened his pants and dropped them to the floor. There he stood, just like Ted, in a button-down shirt and a royal blue Armani thong. Without thinking, Ted's eyes glanced down at Bert's crotch. Maybe it was out of general curiosity, maybe it was to confirm the old man really was wearing the thong. He didn't know why he did it, but as he looked at the nice round blue bulge nestled between the man's legs, a course of blood flowed into his own cock, and his member twitched with the same unintentional impulse as his glance.

That was all Bert needed. He had seen Ted's interest, whether the man standing in front of him knew it or not. Ted looked up at Bert and their eyes met; he looked horrified at what had happened. Bert flashed Ted that same smile again. He squatted down, his smooth rump extending outward as he picked up his pants. Ted's cock twitched again, this time growing past the point of no return. He backed up until he hit the wall.

"What's the matter?" Bert asked.

"Nothing," Ted said, placing his hands in front of his crotch once more. Why is this happening? he asked himself. He had never so much as looked at another man before. Not since . . . No, that was many years ago. He had put that all behind him. He was married to a wonderful woman and had the most beautiful child. You didn't get those things by sleeping with other guys. And you certainly didn't get to six years of marriage by doing that.

"Here," Bert said, holding the pants out to Ted. "Take them." He took a step forward and his package shifted ever so slightly with the motion of his leg.

Ted got harder still. By this point, his cock was fully erect and, within the confines of the thong, there was nowhere left for his shaft to go.

Bert looked down at Ted's little problem and grinned a devilish grin. This is what he'd been waiting for. "Isn't that something," he remarked. Then, in a voice exactly like the one he'd used when they first met, he asked, "May I be of assistance?"

As much as he wanted to, Ted was helpless to resist the old man's advances. Thoughts of his wife and daughter vanished from his mind and, just like had happened all those years ago when Karen's father had come on to him before they'd been married, Ted gave into his desire for older men. He leaned in and intercepted Bert's advance, wrapping his arms around Bert's belly and planting a forceful kiss on the clerk's lips. Bert received him as he had done with all those men before, moving his hands down and squeezing Ted's exposed ass cheeks as their tongues locked in battle. Their bellies pressed against each other as they kissed, and both men quickly moved to get rid of the only barriers between them. Each unbuttoned their shirts, sliding out of them with ease, and casting them on the chair in the corner. Reembracing, Bert smashed his hairy body into Ted's hairless one, pinning him up against the wall as they made out.

Bert's hands moved down and found their way inside Ted's thong waistband. With some maneuvering to get the stretchy fabric around Ted's pole, he managed to yank it down and finally release the object of his desire. He wrapped his hand around the six-and-a-half-inch cock and began stroking it rapidly, feeling the slippery pre-cum that had stained the front of the thong and was now lubing up the rest of the cock. Without wasting another second, he dropped down and took the cock in his mouth.

Ted moaned as Bert engorged himself on his cock. He hadn't had a blowjob in at least a year, and the warmth of Bert's mouth felt like a nice reprieve from the workout of his hand. It reminded him again of Karen's father, who had given a better blowjob than Karen ever had, and Ted found himself wanting more. He grabbed the back of Bert's head and pulled him deeper into his crotch. Lucky for him, the clerk was able to take it all with ease. In and out, his cock tickled the back of Bert's throat and sent chills coursing throughout his body until he was weak in the knees. Once his cock was thoroughly wet, he pulled the old man to his feet.

Bert stood in front of Ted and looked in his eyes. "Bend over," Ted said, knowing exactly what he wanted for the first time that day.

The old man did as he was told, leaning over the chair and extending his ass into the middle of the room. Ted got down on his knees, his face mere inches from Bert's plump cheeks. He softly caressed the cheeks with his hands, rubbing them in small circles. He traced the thin blue line of fabric that ran the length of the ass, and then leaned in and gave each cheek a kiss.