It's difficult sometimes to know what it is about a person that turns you on. Either they are drop dead gorgeous and you can't wait to get your hands on them. Or they are blushing violets and you just know there's a carnivorous plant in there somewhere dying to break out and swallow you.

Alessio was of the latter kind. I saw him every day at the restaurant where he had lunch with his mother. I liked his full-lipped mouth and his soulful eyes, but his clothes were horrendous. Strange, because the waitress told me that his family had a shop that sold menswear. I followed them one day after lunch and found that the shop hadn't changed since his father died and catered to conservative tastes. Consequently, it sold rather conventional and old fashioned clothes. However, I noticed that a corner of the shop window was devoted to men's underwear, and this is what turned me on. Only somebody potentially gay, but still in the closet, could have displayed 2(x)ist underwear and such a variety of other intimate finery. It was so much in contrast with the staid clothes in all the other windows. I made it my mission to seek him out and save him.

I went in there to try on some swimwear. I selected a few of the latest models and took them into the changing rooms. I knew swimsuits could only be tried on over underwear so I'd made a point of not wearing any. I've got a great body and a greater dick, and I wanted Alessio to get a good look at both of them. Ever the cockteaser, I put my head round the curtain and asked him if he could bring me some underwear. I'd seen some cute fantasy items in the window which could double as a swimsuit. One was a kind of thong with a banana in front. It was wild. I asked him to bring a couple of those too. He arrived with half a dozen pairs and passed them through the changing room curtain, telling me to choose one and give the rest back.

"Once you try one on you have to buy it." he said. I chose the thong because it was the S(xy)ist, but doubted I'd ever have the courage to wear it. It was pretty obscene. Mostly elastic and with a very flimsy bit of material in front. I handed the others back.

"Hope I've made the right choice," I said. "Can you come in and give me your advice. I can never make up my mind by myself." He slipped through the curtain, and I made sure he got an eyeful of my butt and the form of my dick, which was nicely in evidence and looked like a big banana split. "These are cute," I said, "but maybe I should have gotten the larger size. Never mind, I can always give them to my brother. He has a smaller banana." That line didn't go down so well. It was greeted with absolute silence. He didn't seem to appreciate the humour therein. I thought it was a great line, given the circumstances.

I had an idea he really appreciated my banana, though. He couldn't take his eyes off it. I decided to change the subject. "You've got some great stuff here. Do you choose it yourself?" I asked provocatively. I knew I was embarrassing the hell out of him. After all, his mother was only on the other side of the curtain. Fortunately, it reached to the floor. He didn't answer my question, but said he'd show me the catalogue when I was ready. Maybe I'd gone too far. As per usual. Anyway, I'd achieved my goal. I'd shown him the goods. The ball was now in his court so to speak.

While I was paying, he handed me the catalogue which contained photos of some really great male models. Once again he seemed ill at ease, and busied himself folding things and putting them away. His mother was now at the other end of the shop and hadn't noticed anything untoward, even though you could have cut the atmosphere we'd created with a knife. Never one to give up easy, I gave him my card and asked him to call me when the items I'd chosen were in stock.

When I got back to my place and looked at the things I'd bought, things I didn't really need, I began to ask myself why I was so hot for this guy. He wasn't at all the type I usually went for and hadn't given me the slightest bit of encouragement. Maybe I was bored and needed a challenge. No, it was much more than that. There was something about him that fascinated me. Something hidden. I was determined to get to know him. I liked him a lot, and I needed to make him my friend.

I'd been in Italy three months now, but hadn't really gotten close to anyone. I'd had sex two or three times a week, but what I call empty sex. Nobody I really bonded with. Nobody to come home to at night. I was hellishly lonely and something told me he was too. Probably found it even more difficult than me to have a serious relationship, being under his mother's thumb so to speak. I wondered what kind of a dick he had. Probably a long one. I don't know if you are aware of the fact, but Italian mothers are always playing with their kids' dicks which is maybe why some of them get to be so big. After all, they get a lot of special attention.

In the end I put my obsession down to the fact I had too much time on my hands. I had a six month contract to organize a series of concerts for a summer festival and had already done most of the preparatory work. Nearly a week went by before he called me. In fact, I'd almost given up on him. He told me that the new models were in. I suggested he bring them round, but he said he couldn't leave the shop.

"Make up some excuse," I said.

He arrived half an hour later. "How long have we got?" I asked.

"About two hours. I told my mother I had to go to the library to look up some references for my thesis."

"Good thinking. That means you have time to model the swimsuits."

"I couldn't," he said. "It's unhygienic."

"Nobody will know. Unless you get too excited and stain the material."

He blushed. I reminded myself to keep a tighter rein on my tongue. "You can go in the bedroom and change if you're shy." I said. I put on some mellifluous music and poured some gin in his orange juice to spice him up a bit, but it was me that got the heady sensation when he came in wearing the first swimming costume. As I had expected it was some transformation. He wasn't exactly drop dead gorgeous, but divested of his unattractive undershirt, his klutzy trousers and his sandals with socks, he was definitely a sight for sore eyes. He had a nice smooth torso, a tight little butt and the rest was but for me to unveil.

I ran my hands appreciatively over his swimmer's body. They settled like a dove on the bulge in his swimsuit. I slipped my hand right in there and helped his dick to freedom. I let it flutter between my fingers and unfurl its wings so I could admire its considerable length.

"I was quite sure you'd have something interesting under there,' I said. "And I'm not disappointed. Probably tastes good too." And without any more ado, I put it in my mouth. He was pretty excited by now, and his pre-cum was a salty foretaste of the jizz shower that was soon to engulf me. No cocktail had ever tasted so good.

"How long have you been letting all this go to waste?" I asked him.

"You're the first," he said. "My mother is very strict."

"But surely you must have had other customers like me in the shop."

"Nobody like you."

I took this as a compliment and kissed his dick, then rubbed my own excited extension against his butt. "Have we got time?"

"Oh, yes," he said and wiggled his butt like a baby vulture eager to feed from momma bird's beak. I lubed us both up real good, and entered him gently, easing my way in as if I was immersing myself in a hot tub of fragrant water. It felt so good in there, so warm and inviting and I was so turned on, knowing I was the first to enter that tight little butt. Peter Cincotti was singing his version of 'Sway' and we swayed with it. Then, as I pressed Momma's pride and joy up against me and began to massage his nipples and pecs, we started making music of our own. I began to make longer and harder thrusts, and he began to open up to me and draw me further and further inside of him. The walls of his anal passage were soft and squishy, and I just let my dick wallow in them. He seemed to be giving me a blow job with his ass, and I'd never experienced anything quite like it.

"I'm glad you waited for me," I said as I nibbled the back of his neck. He clenched his butt in answer and began to jerk me off anally. In all my life I have never felt that good. It was indescribable, sensational. I let myself go as I've never let myself go to anyone. He put his hands behind him, grabbed my butt and pulled me closer towards him. My dick was on the crest of a sensual wave and the combination of Cincotti's music and the sultry swaying of Alessio's hot ass had my senses reeling. The world turned upside down and the room began to spin. As the music swelled to a crescendo my dick felt like it was being strummed like a bass guitar or something, and my pelvis was outdoing Elvis' in making involuntary jerking and stabbing motions. I let myself go with the fabulous flow and surrendered my body juice generously. It felt like sap pouring from a tree. Just as I was coming, I grabbed his cock and milked him for all I was worth. My dick slithered in his ass, and his dick slithered in my hand. Then we both shuddered to a staggering stop. My head was ringing and singing, and my body was absolutely boneless.

"Fuck!" is all I could say afterwards.

"Thank you," he said and kissed me.

Now all I have to do is work out how to get him away from his mother.