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A New Suit

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Chapter 01

Chapter 01

      "Thank you for calling Jerome's Tailor, the place for quality suits. Please be advised that as of the sixteenth of April, the store will be closed permanently. If you wish-" Click

      Damian dialed a different number.

      "Hello?" an unsteady men's voice said after the third ring.

      "Jerome, it's Damian Orr."

      "Mister Orr, what a surprise." He had to pause while he coughed. "I never expected you to call me at home."

      "I just called your shop and learned that you'd closed it. I'm wondering if there's anything I can do to help."

      The man chuckled, which turned into another coughing fit. "I'm afraid that unless one of your companies has found a cure for old age, there's nothing you can do."

      "That's-I'm sorry to hear that. How are you? Do you need help with your care?"

      "No, thank you, I'm fine. I've hired a nurse to look after me, and my grandkids keep stopping by to make sure I'm okay. My doctor says I still have decades, but I've lost too much hand-eye coordination to continue working. I'm guessing that was the reason for your call."

      "Yes. I'm due for some new suits. If you can't make them anymore, is there anyone you recommend?"

      "There's only one place in San Francisco that would match your demanding standards, and that's Edgard and Sons."

      "Are they as good as you?"

      Jerome laughed, then he was coughing. "I'm afraid that the only way you'll find someone as good as I was with cloth will be to import a tailor from Europe. Edgard's shop is more commercial than mine was, but he only hires tailors who've gone through the good schools."

      "I'll look into Edgard and Son, and keep Europe as a backup plan. You take care of yourself, Jerome."

      "And you as well, Mister Orr."

      * * * * *

      Like Jerome, Edgard and Son only had one storefront. It was located in the north end of the financial district, with Elegance on its left, and Haute Couture on the right. They were certainly in expensive company.

      The front was split down the center by the door, and the bay windows on each side were made to appear to be a series of changing rooms. In each a mannequin was wearing a suit and were posed as if the window was the mirror and they were admiring themselves in it. Damian thought it was somewhat pretentious, which fit the theme of the surrounding stores.

      He entered, and very little of the outside light made it inside. The display covered all of the bay windows except for the top foot, and that light was diffused with a gray sheer fabric. The large room smelled of cloth, wood, dyes and varnish, but there was a faint underlying sweetness to the combination, which led Damian to think it was a manufactured scent, instead of the result of so much clothing being stored in a small place.

      This place was already disappointing him. If the atmosphere was fake, how good would the tailors be?

      The walls were dark wood paneling, with mirrors at regular intervals and mannequins wearing various suits. Far too many racks held suits for Damian's liking. This felt more like a suit shop, rather and a tailor's. He had no interest in buying off the rack.

      In the five seconds it had taken the tiger to evaluate the store a stout badger detached himself from the counter to walk toward him. "Welcome to Edgard and Son, how can I help you today?"

      The man wore a dark blue double-breasted suit with a white shirt and black tie. He had forgone the usual Oxford for more comfortable brown walking shoes; something off the rack. Another mark against the store.

      Damian gave the man his friendly smile. "I take it you're Edgard?"

      "No, that was my father. I'm Drummond, Drummond Entil."

      "Well, Drummond, I find myself in need of a suit."

      "Of course." He motioned toward the racks. "If you'll follow me, I can show you-"

      "No."

      "Excuse me?"

      "Drummond, I was led to believe you were a tailor, not a suit salesman."

      "Please forgive me, most men who come here just want to get something to-" He stammered under Damian's gaze. "Sebastien!"

      A light brown furred rabbit stepped out from behind a curtain. He was younger, in his mid-twenties, wearing perfectly tailors pin stripped pants held up with suspenders and an egg shell white shirt. He looked up and almost missed a step as he took at the tiger.

      Damian smiled, and when the rabbit's eyes reached his face, he broadened his smile, showing a little teeth. The rabbit's breathing sped up and his iris dilated.

      Well, well, well, Damian thought. This should be amusing, if nothing else.

      "Sebastien, this is-"

      "Damian Orr."

      "This is Mister Orr, he needs a suit."

      "Yes, of course," the rabbit answered, his voice soft, sounding slightly out of breath.

      Damian glanced down, but he wasn't sporting an obvious tent. By the slight marks on the pants, his underwear was keeping everything in place. He wondered how much self-control Sebastien had.

      "If you'll follow me." Sebastien headed to the back of the store and opened the door, letting Damian enter first.

      The room was twelve feet deep and eight wide. Two chairs were on the left of the door and six hangers were screwed to the wall on the other side. The other end had a table with tailor's tools on it as well as on pegs on the wall. Unless Sebastien moved very slowly, Damian would have to hurry. He wasn't worried, he had a lot of practice at undressing quickly.

      Sebastien faced him and ran a hand along his jacket's lapel. He raised it to look under then folded it back in place. "This is very good work," his said. "Who make it?"

      "Jerome Hiline."

      The rabbit smiled. "Yes, he'd do something like this." He ran a hand down the front, and Damian felt his hand tremble as it moved. "I hear he's the best tailor in the city."

      "Not anymore, he retired."

      The news seemed to sadden Sebastien. "I guess that explains why you're here. If you could continue to go to him...."

      "I'm guessing this will be easier if I take this off." Damian began removing his jacket.

      "Yes, the measurements are more accurate with less layers." He turned and headed for the table as Damian placed the jacket on the hook.

      With the rabbits back to him he got out of his pants and then his shirt. Normally he'd fold them, but this time he just dropped both on a chair and took position, waiting for Sebastien to turn around.

      "Do you have a specific style of suits you want?" Even though Sebastien raised his voice, it still came across as soft. The rabbit was soft spoken, rather than shy. He picked up a measuring tape and a tablet then turned and proceeded to drop the tape.

      His ears dropped back as they became red. He stammered something unintelligible.

      Damian looked down at his naked form. "Is there a problem?"

      "You-ya-you're naked."

      "You said any layers would change the measurements."

      Sebastien's mouth moved a few times before words came out. "I thought you'd keep your pants on, or have underwear." He bent down to gather the tape.

      "I can't stand those things."

      When he stood Damian could now see some definition in his pants and the rabbit's breathing was faster. "You wouldn't rather wear something?"

      Damian smiled. "I'd rather have accurate measurements on the first try."

      Sebastien nodded and came to him. Damian could see the effort he had to exert not to look down. When he was before the tiger, Sebastien made a visible effort to put what he had seen behind him and measured Damian's shoulders.

      Damian discretely breathed in the rabbit's smells. Sebastien wanted him. How badly? Damian wondered.

      Sebastien moved behind Damian for more measurements, and Damian caressed the rabbit's leg with his tail. He didn't audibly react, except for his breath catching.

      Then the rabbit was back in front of him and knelt to measure his inseam. Damian looked down, watching as Sebastien fought with himself not to look.

      "You can look, you know." Damian let himself plump out slightly as Sebastien glanced in pure reflex.

      The rabbit looked away and shook his head.

      "I don't mind." Damian was now at half-mast. "Actually, if you want a taste, you're welcome to it."

      The rabbit looked and he licked his lips as Damian's cock became fully hard. His eyes were fixed on it, but he didn't move. He wanted to, it was clear in the tension in Sebastien's body, in his scent. Damian could have shoved him against the wall and fucked him raw and the rabbit would have enjoyed all of it.

      But that wasn't what Damian was after. He was curious as to how long Sebastien could resist his own desires.

      Finally, the rabbit looked away. "It wouldn't be appropriate, you're a customer."

      "I wouldn't mind."

      Sebastien shook his head and took more measurements. "I'm done, you can get dressed." He stood and Damian looked in his eyes.

      "Are you sure you want me to cover up?"

      Sebastien looked down.

      Damian leaned in slightly and whispered. "Why not just give into what you want? It's right there, I'm right here."

      Sebastien's hand trembled. He almost reached for Damian's cock, but pulled his hand away, then moved away. He shook his head. "I can't do that. It could cost me my job."

      "I wouldn't tell anyone."

      "I could still get caught. I-I just can't."

      "Alright." Damian let his cock get soft and got dressed. Once he was done Sebastien still had his back to him. He stepped behind him, breathed in his is smell and placed a hand on his arm, making the rabbit tense.

      "You smell amazing when you're horny," Damian whispered. His hand going down along the arm until he reached his hand and took the tablet out of it.

      Sebastien spun and reached for it, but Damian had stepped back, entering the materials he wanted his suit made from. When he was done, he handed it back. Sebastien read the new information and among the surprise Damian read the disappointment. He'd been hoping for more.

      Sebastien put the tape and tablet on the table then went to the door, but before he reached it Damian had a hand on his back, freezing him in place. He moved his hand down the rabbit's back, feeling him shiver in a mix of anticipation and worry. For all his protesting, he wanted Damian to take control, to use Sebastien in any pleasurable ways.

      It wasn't that Sebastien was a submissive. He wasn't like Dominic, who got off on being dominated. No Sebastien wanted an excuse to break convention, to do something he shouldn't. Unfortunately for him, that wasn't what Damian was after, not right now.

      "Dream of what you could have done with me today when you go to bed tonight." His hand caressed the rabbit's ass, and Sebastien emitted a slight whine.

      Damian left the room, closed the door, straightened his jacket and headed to the counter.

      "How was Sebastien?" the badger asked.

      "Very good, very nice." Damian paused, letting his eyes wander on the mirror behind the counter until he saw the employee sheet under the counter reflected in it. Sebastien's last name was Gauld. "He was very professional."

      "I'm glad to hear that. Do you know what materials you'll want the suit out of?"

      "I left that information with him. Work up my deposit on the most expensive suit you can make."

      "Sir, I'm not sure you realize how much that-" he shut up when Damian handed him the black card.

      It had no name on it, no bank or lending agency's insignia. He turned it over, opened his mouth to ask a question but Damian cut him off.

      "Just run it, Drummond. I still have things to do today."

      The badger inserted the card in the computer, entered the information. In the mirror Damian saw that the deposit was fifteen hundred dollars. Damian wondered if the suit would measure up to how much Drummond was planning on charging him. Possibly not, but it didn't matter, this wasn't about getting a suit anymore.

      The badger couldn't mask his surprise as the card approved the payment without requiring any other authorizations. He handed it back, his hand shaking slightly.

      "When do you want to come back for the initial fitting?"

      "How long will it take for Sebastien to have it ready?"

      "I can have him put your suit ahead of-"

      Damian glared at him. "How long will it take Sebastien?"

      The badger swallowed. "Usually it takes him two week?"

      Damian nodded. "In that case I'll be back in two weeks." He turned and headed to for the door.

      "Mister Orr, I need a number in case I have to contact you."

      Damian ignored him and stepped outside. He had all the information he needed to reach him if it was urgent enough. Otherwise he didn't want to have to talk to that badger again before he was back. He took out his phone and entered a number.

      "Royal Security."

      "Hello Emerson."

      "Mister Orr, what can I do for you?"

      "I need a basic jacket build on Sebastien Gauld, he works at Edgard and Son, on Kearny Street."

      "Just a basic file, sir?"

      "Yes."

      "We should have that before the end of the day."

      "Do me a favor, have Mister Sanders do the work and forward it to my office when it's done."

      "Sir," Emerson hesitated. "He's new. I'm not even sure he's been trained on gathering information."

      "Then this will be a perfect way for him to gain experience." He put his phone away and checked the time. Four hours before the store closed. He had time to get home, cook himself a meal and be back here. He wanted to get a feel for Sebastien's routine, and he might as well begin learning it now.

      Chapter 02

      The inside of what had been a bakery before it went bankrupt was dark. The displays were still there, covered with a thin layer of dust, and there was a faint scent of sugar in the air. The bay window hadn't been covered up, which made the location perfect for Damian. He was back far enough that someone would have to press their face to the window to see him, and as he stood still, they might not notice him even then.

      It had been one week, to the day, since he'd gone into Edgard and son, for five of those days he'd sat in the coffee shop on the corner across from the tailor's shop. That first day, he's sat there all afternoon, the other days, He'd arrived at four forty-five, and left at the latest at five thirty.

      Emerson would have complained if he'd known about it. After all, he'd say, what was the point of Damian owning a security firm if he was going to do his own leg work? As far as Damian was concerned, having as much money as he did meant he got to indulge himself once in a while. At least Alice had been pleased to see him leave the office early for all those days. She kept telling him he was working too hard.

      It was five, Damian had been here for ten minutes now. He'd entered from the alley behind the store. Tracking down the retail company who had the listing and getting a key had been simple enough, and surprisingly cheap. If he decided to list one of his properties, he wouldn't do it through this company.

      At five-oh-five, Sebastien left the store with a messenger bag over his shoulder. His week of observation had informed Damian that the rabbit always left as close to five as he could, then he stood at the bus stop at the corner until it arrived between five-twenty-five and five-thirty-five.

      Damian took the phone out of his pocket. It wasn't his usual phone, that one was in hard shutdown mode at the moment. He's gotten this one two days ago, when he'd stopped at the local office of Royal Security. It had multiple features on it to ensure no one could listen in, trace it, or hack it. Normally the security agents used one for one mission, then returned it, for the phone to be completely wiped, re-formated, re-encrypted, and reassigned.

      He'd handle wiping the phone himself. He did trust the people working at Royal Securities, but mistakes could happen, and he couldn't afford to have anyone get one of his phones. Damian didn't expect this to be quick, but once it was done, he would return a wiped phone for them to re-encrypt.

      He entered a number and watched as Sebastien took his phone out, looked at the number, frowned, then put the phone to his hear.

      "Hello?" he said, tentatively.

      "Hello Sebastien, this is Damian."

      His frown deepened. "Who?"

      "Damian Orr, you took my measurements for a suit, a few days ago."

      More frowning, then his ears folded back as he realized who he was talking to. "Oh, errr, Hello."

      "I'm wondering if you can help me with something."

      Sebastien looked around, then his watch. "I don't know, I mean I'm waiting for the bus, and the store's locked, so I can't go back inside."

      "That's alright, what I need you to do isn't inside the store, it's behind it. I believe there's a short alley there?"

      Damian knew it was there, since he could see it from where he stood. It was thirty feet deep and eight wide, separating the tailor's shop's building from the restaurant on the other half of the block.

      "I guess there is."

      "Could you go there? There is something I need you to check on for me."

      Sebastien checked his watch again, then with a shrug headed for it.

      Damian had been happy with the alley since it was clean, and had nowhere to hide, unless one jumped into the dumpster at the back. There was a door on the left leading to the restaurant, and three on the right, for the three clothing stores there, but they were only used for deliveries.

      Sebastien looked inside the alley.

      "If you go about midway and look on your left, you're see an envelope stuck in a cracked brick. It's for you."

      "What do you mean?" The rabbit stepped into the alley and looked at the wall, then reached for something. "Mister Orr?" Damian didn't say anything. Sebastien opened the envelope and looked in. "What the hell?"

      There were three one-hundred dollar bills in the envelope, plus a note. Damian had picked that amount because it was significant enough that Sebastien would know that whatever he thought this was, it was serious. He'd also picked it because it was too little to make a difference in the rabbit's life. The salary he received from the tailor's shop paid his rent as well as all his bills. The one big item Sebastien had trouble with was his student loans, and three hundred dollars wouldn't make much of a dent in that.

      "What is this?" the rabbit asked.

      "Read the note."

      He took it out and a moment later almost dropped everything. "What the fuck? Is this some sort of joke?"

      Damian noted that Sebastien was more forceful now that he wasn't in his work environment. He liked knowing the young man wasn't always that reserved.

      "I believe the note was quite clear."

      "Clear? It says that if I take out my cock and jerk myself off to orgasm facing the mouth of the alley, the money's mine."

      "As I said, quite clear."

      "This is a joke, right?" Sebastien looked around, then up. "What are you trying to do? Make me lose my job?"

      "Not at all."

      "Yeah? Well, I'm not doing it."

      "Very well, then just put the envelope back in the cracked brick."

      Sebastien put the note back in the envelope, stepped toward the wall, then stopped. He looked in the envelope. Took out one of the bills and looked at it in a beam of light.

      "Is this even a real bill?"

      "It is."

      "Why are you doing this?"

      Damian waited for three seconds, long enough Sebastien would think he was considering his answer. "I'm trying to learn something about you."

      "Like what? If I'm a perv for pay? I could just leave with the money and not do anything."

      "You could. And I will have learned something."

      "That I'm a thief." Sebastien sighed.

      "It would be too early for me to judge you are a thief, but such an action would make it clear you lacked scruples."

      The rabbit nodded. He looked at the wall, then the mouth of the alley. In the time he'd been there, half a dozen people had walked by on his side of the road, double that on Damian's side. None of them had looked in. Sebastien looked up, then scrunched his eyes closed.

      "Did you think of me?"

      "Wh-What?" Sebastien was looked ahead again.

      "That night, when you got home and jerked off. Did you imagine my naked form? Did you imagine yourself doing the things you didn't dare do it the backroom?"

      "Ho-how do you know that?"

      "An educated guess. So, did you think of me?"

      "Ah...yeah." He looked at his feet. "You think I'm a perv, right?"

      "Not at all. You're a young man with needs. There is nothing wrong with satisfying them."

      "And now you want to force me to do it in front of a bunch of passing people."

      "I'm not forcing you to do anything. I'd never do that. I'll never force anything on you."

      "Sure, then what's the money?"

      "An incentive. You can put it back and go home. I don't believe your bus has passed yet."

      Sebastien looked around the alley. "What happens if I do this?"

      "You have an orgasm and three hundred dollars."

      "Right, and at some other point you'll call me again, try to get me to do something like this again, or something riskier."

      "Possibly."

      "This is stupid."

      Damian didn't respond. He watched Sebastien walked to the back of the alley, squeeze between the dumpster and the wall to the shop. There was two feet of space there. He tried to push the dumpster forward, to create a loophole, but it wouldn't move. It was on wheels, but they were old and rusted. Damian had tested it himself. The rabbit even lifted the cover and hoisted himself up to look inside, only to immediately drop down. It had been three days since the trash had been picked up. It had to be rather odorous by now.

      He sighed. "How do I do this?"

      "However, you want, but keep the phone by your ear and mouth."

      "So, you want me to be vocal?"

      "No more than you normally are."

      "Look, why don't you tell me what you want so I can give it to you? Isn't that how it works?"

      Damian chuckled. "Sebastien, you are mistaken if you think this is about me."

      "Maybe I should just fake the whole thing."

      "Are you that good of an actor?"

      Sebastien didn't say anything. It placed the envelope inside his jacket, the messenger back at his feet and undid his belt. He hesitated a moment before opening the front of his slacks. He reached inside his underwear, Boxer briefs, or trunks, from what Damian could see, and hesitated again, before pulling his cock out.

      He kept his hand in front of it and Damian waited. For a good minute Sebastien leaned against the wall and did nothing. Then his hand moved up and down, rubbing his cock. He did that a few times, then took it in his hand and stroked it a few times.

      "I can't even get it hard. I'm too nervous."

      "You can stop it if you want."

      "No. You said you wanted to learn something about me, well I maybe you thought I was some timid and scared rabbit because of how I acted then, but I'm not."

      "Alright, then close your eyes and think of that day, of me standing before you, naked."

      In the distance, the rabbit's cock might have jumped a little, or it might have been an illusion caused by the hand moving up and down. Sebastien's breath catching a little was real.

      "Remember how fast your heart beat, how hot you were suddenly, how dry your mouth became. You were shaking as you approached. What did you want then?"

      "I wanted to touch you."

      "Then do it."

      Sebastien bit his lower lip and moaned lightly. His cock was definitely hard now. Damian could clearly see. It looked to be seven inch long.

      "You knelt to measure my inseam, your face was next to my cock and balls, remember what they smelled like. Bury your nose in my balls. Breath in my scent."

      "Oh God." The rabbit shuddered and he tilted his head to hold the phone against his shoulder, his other hand going to massage his balls.

      "Having you this close excited me and I got hard."

      Sebastien licked his lips. "Oh fuck, I wanted to lick it so bad."

      "Do it now. Lick it from the base to the tip, suckle it, swallow the precum."

      "Oh God." He bit his lips and stroked his cock faster now. Beads of precum went flying. "Oh fuck. Oh fu-" he groaned and arced his back. The phone clattered to the ground. Sebastian's hand moved up and down his cock so fast it was a blur. Then it stopped and cum flowed down his shaft and over his hand, to drip on the ground.

      Sebastien remained still for fifteen seconds, then he opened his eyes and remembered where he was. He cursed then moved to tuck himself, but his cock and hand were covered in cum. He almost wiped it on his pants, but stopped himself. He collected the cum on his cock with his fingers and licked them clean, then his hand.

      He tucked himself in and refastened his pants. He picked up his phone. "Well? Is that what you wanted?"

      "That isn't the right question, Sebastien. Was it what you wanted?"

      The rabbit opened his mouth, then his face became a mask of confusion. He disconnected, grabbed his bag and went back to the bus stop, getting there just as the late bus stopped. He vanished inside and Damian put his phone away, quite pleased with how this had gone.

      Chapter 03

      Sebastien couldn't stop looking around as he held onto the bar to keep standing. Could anyone on the bus tell what he'd done?

      He could still feel the dampness on his crotch, did his pants have a wet spot? God, he hoped not. How humiliating would that be?

      Had that Sheepdog wrinkled her nose? He tried to take a step back, but the bus was crowded with everyone heading home. Someone elbowed him as they made their way to the door and his crotch pressed against a cheetah's hip. Sebastien felt the coolness of wet fabric. God, he did have a wet spot. His ears began burning.

      He could feel their eyes on him. They knew. They could smell it on him, or see the wet spot, and they knew. He wanted to cram himself in a corner.

      His leg began shaking as his desire to flee kicked in and he forced it still. Be reasonable, he told himself. They were on the bus, there was no way they'd seen him jerk off in the alley, the bus hadn't even been there. As for smelling it, how could they smell anything over the funk permeating the bus?

      He wished telling himself that was enough to calm him, but he still twitched each time someone sneezed. His ears never stopped burning, and he couldn't shake the feeling that if he hadn't just cum moments ago, he'd be getting hard right now.

      "Was it what you wanted?" Mister Orr had asked, and he hadn't known how to answer that. Who would want to get off in public, imagining sucking off the man he'd seen naked in his store's fitting room?

      A pervert, that was who.

      Fuck, was that what he was? He'd never thought of himself that way. He hadn't even fantasized about any of the men who's suits he'd adjusted.

      Until Mister Orr.

      Sebastien started panting. What a man he was too. Muscular, piercing blue-gray eyes and this utter calm way about him, like he was in control of everything. And the way he smelled. The rabbit hadn't known someone could exude sex like that.

      The electronic voice called his stop and he pushed his way through the crowd. Outside he breathed in the fresh air, letting it clear his thoughts. It had been a crazy thing to do.

      So why had he done it?

      He headed for his building. It wasn't the money. Three hundred dollars wasn't anywhere near enough money.

      He entered the door code, and it gave him the 'incorrect' buzzer sound. What number had he even entered? He focused on what he was doing and this time the door clicked open. He took the stair to the third floor and swiped his keycard at his door. It opened and he was home.

      He leaned back against the door and breathed in the scents of fabrics, varnish, and old wood. He loved that this building was old, he could smell its personality.

      He hung his messenger bag on the hook and took out his phone. He looked at the new number on the display. He could call him back, tell him what he thought of him doing that to him.

      And what exactly did he think of him? Sebastien had no idea. He closed the phone and set it on the table.

      He opened a self-heating can of stew and left it on the counter before heading for the mannequin in his living room. He needed something else to think about and working on Matilda's dress would be perfect.

      * * * * *

      Another day done, Sebastien thought as he left the shop. He reached the bus stop and took out his phone. If it rang, he wasn't answering it. He checked the time, at least ten minutes to go before the bus arrived.

      He went to the alley and looked to see if there was an envelope in the cracked brick. There wasn't, he was relieved to find. He turned to leave the alley, but looked at the back instead. At the space between the dumpster and the wall. At where he'd jerked off.

      Before he'd realized it, he was standing in front of that spot. He'd been stupid to do that, it had been scary, and exciting, he had to admit. He felt himself get excited and rubbed his crotch.

      "Hey Buddy!" someone called and Sebastien jumped, immediately moving his hand away. "Are you okay back there?" A ram was in the mouth of the alley, looking at him quizzically.

      "Yes-I-hmm-I'm okay. I was just..." he trailed off, unable to think of something that would sound believable. He checked his phone and cursed, had he missed his bus?

      He ran past the ram without answering his look and reached the stop just as the bus pulled to it. At least he didn't have to worry about his boner after the scare the ram had given him.

      What if the guy had been there yesterday and seen him jerk off? That would not have been good he told himself. His cock seemed to have another opinion on the matter and he had to put his bag in front of himself to avoid poking anyone with it.

      * * * * *

      He hung his messenger bag and took the phone out. He looked at the number. He should call him. What would he say?

      He saved the number under 'Mister Orr,' and took out a one serving meat pie. He pulled the tab on the package that would make it heat up and went to Matilda's dress. He should be done with it tomorrow, then she could come for the fitting. An hour at most for the adjustments and she could take it home.

      * * * * *

      Sebastien sat on the couch, his phone in one hand and a full glass of wine in the other. He looked at the number again. Maybe it was because of the wine, although he only had had one glass before this, but he called it.

      "Hello Sebastien," The deep voice said.

      He almost hung up, the image of the tiger, standing naked before him, bursting in his mind. Of himself on a knee, measuring his inseam, his nose so close to his balls and cock he could smell the musk.

      He was getting hard at the memory.

      "Mis-Mister Orr-"

      "Please, call me Damian."

      Sebastian shook his head. "Mister Orr, why did you do that?" He placed the glass on the side table so he could undo his belt and unbutton his pants, it was becoming uncomfortable.

      "I told you why, I wanted to learn something about you."

      "Did you think about me when you went home and jerked off?" it had been what the tiger had asked.

      "It's can't be just that. You could have asked me instead."

      He had, and he'd admitted as much. And the tiger hadn't been put off by it.

      "I find that people aren't always honest when answering questions. Even when they think they are. Actions are much more honest, don't you think?"

      "I don't know. I don't go around asking people tough questions. I think the hardest question I've ever asked someone was if they wanted me to increase the waist size of their pants so they'd fit better."

      He wouldn't have to do that with the tiger's pants. He had the impression that the man wouldn't gain one pound over is entire life.

      His hand rubbed his stomach as he through about his abs, sufficiently defined to be visible through the stomach fur.

      "And do you think you received truthful answers?"

      What would it be like to touch them? They had to be hard. His cock had looked hard too. His hand moved lower

      "I don't know. I guess." He bit his lower lip as his caressed his erect penis.

      "Are you thinking of me?"

      Sebastien froze. "What?"

      "As you're touching yourself, was I who you were thinking about?"

      "How?"

      "Your breathing changed when you touched yourself."

      The rabbit looked down at himself, two fingers motionless in the middle of his cock's length.

      "You don't have to stop," the tiger said.

      Sebastien smiled. "Oh? Does the idea of me jerking of thinking of you turn you on?" His hand moved, the fingers caressing his cock to the base and then back up to the crown, to rub around it.

      "Would that excite you? The thought that I'm here, rubbing myself, listening to you pleasure yourself."

      Sebastien couldn't stop the slight whimper as he imagined the tiger in the fitting room, taking his cock in hand, stroking it while he was standing on the other end of the room, his pants open, his own cock out and hard.

      "How would you feel if I were there, close to you." His deep voice had become husky, silky. "If you could touch me right now, what would you be touching?"

      Sebastien moaned lightly. His hand closing around his cock, but not holding it. He wasn't really stroking it, it was more of an all-around caressing.

      In his mind, they were right against one another, their hands almost touching as they moved up and down their cocks. His free hand reached for the tiger's balls. They were a good size, a nice handful, and he imagined they were heavy.

      "Oh fuck," he whispered, and his hand tightened on his cock. Now he was stroking himself. "Of fuck your balls are so nice."

      In his ear the tiger's breathing was faster, shallower. "You like holding them?" he breathed. "You want what's in them? You want to drink their content? Or maybe you want it all over your face, have it rubbed into your silky fur?"

      Sebastien's breathing was coming in fast, his hand moving faster. "Oh God." In his mind, he was on his knees, rubbing his face against the tiger's cock and balls. Breathing in the manly musk. "Oh fuck-Fuck-Fuck!"

      His back arced, his cock jerked in his hand, but he didn't stop stroking it. Cum spilled out, coating his hand, making it slick, increasing the sensation the crown generated, letting him tighten his hand on it, making it feel so much better.

      When he relaxed, he was still stroking himself, slow motions, making him shiver and sigh. Fuck, he hadn't expected the orgasm to be this good.

      He closed his eyes. "How was it for you?" He sounded breathless.

      "It was okay."

      "Just that? You haven't finished?"

      "I haven't started."

      Sebastien frowned, his hand moving. "What do you mean?"

      "I mean I wasn't jerking off."

      "But you said..." he straightened, looking at his cum covered hand. Somehow what he'd done no longer felt as good.

      "I asked you if the thought I was doing it excited you. I never said I was doing it."

      "You-you used me? But you sounded like you were doing it."

      "I helped you Sebastien. It was clear that the idea I was participating helped you, so I provided you with the proper stimuli."

      "But-but I was doing this for you?"

      "Were you?"

      "Or course I was. You listened to me jerk off in the alley, you were listening to me doing it now. It's clear you get off on it." Damn it, why was he feeling like he'd done something wrong now?

      "Calm down Sebastien, I enjoyed listening to you because I could tell you liked it."

      "Damn it, that isn't who I am, I want my partner to get off to."

      "Is that who I am, Sebastien?"

      The rabbit sighed. "I don't know, it felt like it."

      "Then I apologize, it wasn't my intention to lead you to believe that."

      "Sure, look, I need to go wash up, so I'm going to hang up." He didn't wait for the reply before disconnecting the call. He dumped the phone on the couch and went to the bathroom.

      What an idiot he'd been, again, he thought as he washed his hand, groin and stomach. It had been so hot in the moment and now all he could think of was how he'd put on a show for some guy who hadn't even been turned on by it.

      Fuck. Maybe what he needed to do was get himself a boyfriend. Maybe if he had regular sex, he wouldn't fall victim to the tiger again.

      He went to the full-length mirror in the living room and looked at his lean form, his skinny form he thought when he wasn't being kind to himself.

      The guys he wanted didn't go for him. They wanted built guys like them. The twinks were who couldn't stop looking at his skinny ass. He had nothing much against them, but they just didn't do it for him.

      And then there was the tiger, Mister Orr, who was a dream come true physically, but mentally he seemed to be playing games.

      Sebastien didn't want a guy who played games. He just wanted a guy, the right guy. As hot as he was, that tiger wasn't him.

      Sebastien wasn't going to be playing his games anymore.



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