Diff'rent Strokes (revisited, edited and updated)

No Turning Back!

James Ardent

I always had a thing for dudes in uniform. There's something about the way they carry themselves—confident, disciplined, always in control. But Damon? Damon was different. With his smooth, chocolate skin and a smile that could light up a whole damn room, it was instant attraction the moment he walked in. He came by the store where I worked often, but today? I was finna make it my business to know more about him than just his name.

He stepped inside, scanning the room like he was on some kind of mission. And when his eyes locked with mine behind the counter, I felt my heart skip a beat. That smile—damn, it was wide and bright, those teeth shining like they were meant to hypnotize me. I was caught in a daze.

"Hey, how you doing today?" I asked, trying to sound casual as he walked up to the counter.

"Fine, sir," he said, that grin never leaving his face.

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my cool. "Don't call me that, I'm younger than you."

He blinked, probably thinking I was serious, and quickly apologized, looking a little flustered.

"Loosen up!" I chuckled, giving him a playful wave. "I get it, you're military, but I know you're not like this all the time."

"You're right," he laughed. It was smooth, easy, and it made my chest tighten. Every laugh he let out was like music, smooth and deep.

God, his smile was something else. I couldn't stop staring at it. And those lips—full as hell, soft, and when he'd lick them before flashing that smile, it did things to me I couldn't ignore. I must've looked like a damn fool just standing there, staring.

"Helloooo... can I try these on?" His voice cut through my thoughts, and I blinked, realizing I'd been lost in my own head.

"Huh?" I stuttered, trying to pull myself together.

"You good?" he asked, his brow raised. "I was asking if I could try these jeans on."

"Oh, yeah, my bad. Right this way," I said, shaking my head. I led him to the fitting rooms, but my mind was still stuck on that damn smile of his.

He took his time in there—twenty minutes, maybe more—and I figured he was gone by now. But when my manager asked me to check the fitting rooms, I thought they'd be empty. I was wrong.

I opened the fourth room, and there he was. Damon, standing there in nothing but tight briefs. My eyes widened, and I tried to look away, but damn—his body was like a work of art. And the way his dick hung heavy pressed against the fabric, even on soft with what looked like a wet stain where the tip of his dick would be, was enough to make me swallow hard. It was thick, like a kielbasa sausage. My mouth went dry.

He turned to face me, unbothered. "It's okay," he said, a playful tone in his voice. "Don't get shy now."

I felt my heart race. I heard my boss's footsteps getting closer, and panic hit me like a freight train. Damon must've seen it, 'cause in the blink of an eye, he grabbed me by the arms and pulled me into the room.

"Shh," he whispered, his voice low, soothing. "I just don't want you getting in trouble."

His hand brushed my arm, and I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I tried to focus, but my eyes kept drifting down, and before I knew it, I felt his body press closer as he got dressed. With his bulge brushing against me as he put on his shirt and sweats, My mind was spinning, but somehow, I stayed quiet. Just when I thought this was over, he pulled back and asked, his voice casual, "Hey, you wanna hang out sometime?" As he handed me his phone.

Of course, I said yes entering my number in. I got lost in watching him fold the clothes in the fitting room before heading to the counter to check out. He gave me a wink, like nothing had just happened.