The Clothes Make
The Man

He wandered down one of the main streets in the trendy neighborhood. It was around 6:00 in the evening on a warm spring evening. He had stopped at the small secondhand bookstore and picked up an old Jack Ludlum novel that he had missed the first time around. Those books always intrigued him... full of secret agents and counterintelligence, action and mystery. Pretty exciting to a city boy who worked in a small cubicle downtown crunching numbers for a large corporation. He strolled into Starbuck's, ordered a mocha latte, sat down and began to lose himself in the world of international espionage.

After reading the first chapter, he glanced around at the other patrons, and couldn't help but notice the rather attractive redhead that was seated three tables away. She was looking at him, but he couldn't tell if she was actually seeing him or if she was just zoning out in his general direction. Abruptly, she blinked, rose out of her chair, threw her garbage away, and left the coffee shop. He looked back at the table she had occupied and noticed a small business card lying there. Nonchalantly, (or so he thought) he stood up and walked over to the glass-topped table, reached down and picked up the card. "Alter Years - vintage clothes from the big band era through yesterday", it read. The address was right around the corner, and he thought he might just take a walk by.

The sun was setting as he approached the small shop. The window was plate glass and had two mannequins in it. One was a male, dressed in a classic tuxedo with a scarf draped over his lapel. And the other was a female, clad in a micromini dress in the psychedelic patterns and colors of the late sixties. An incongruous pair, he idly thought as he pushed the door open and entered.

The shop smelled faintly musty, but not unpleasantly so. It had the aroma of time, he whimsically thought, and then snorted at his own romanticism. The bell tinkled as the door shut behind him, and he noticed that the shop was practically empty. There were a couple of teenagers looking at the 70's type denim jeans over in the far corner, and an old woman seated behind the glass counter by the cash register. Even the register was "vintage", he noticed, as he observed the old style push buttons on it that you only saw in reruns of "The Waltons" on the Family Channel. The old lady smiled at him, and he automatically smiled back.

He didn't see the redhead anywhere, but he decided that since he was there, he might as well look around. He idly went through the men's clothes on the nearest rack, and was actually surprised at the different types of clothing he found. There were old army and navy uniforms hanging next to businesslike trench coats and tie dye t-shirts. Nothing really excited him, and as he got to the end of the rack, he heard the old woman's voice call out to him, "Maybe you would like to look at some of the ties we have for sale?"

He looked over at her and saw her arthritically gnarled hand gesture to a rack on the counter behind her. He shrugged and smiled and walked over. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" she asked him as he began thumbing through the ties.

"No, not really. Maybe something for work," he told her as he glanced at her wrinkled face. He was a bit taken aback when he saw alert black eyes looking back at him. Black. Not gray, not brown. Pure black. They were beautiful, and he took a second look at the woman. She was slightly overweight, probably from getting older, and had pure white hair. Not gray, not the little-old-lady blue. White. Her face was small and triangular, with a pointed chin and lots of wrinkles. She looked good for an elderly woman, he thought.

"What do you do?" she asked him.

He fought the urge to compose an exciting fable for her enjoyment and answered, "I think I am Dilbert." He laughed, and noticed the quizzical look on her face. "Its a cartoon in the paper. Actually, I am a junior accountant downtown. Pretty thrilling, huh?" He finished with an ironic twist to his mouth.

She glanced down at the novel he was carrying. "But.... you wish for more, don't you? Exotic locales, exciting assignments, intrigue. And maybe even an electrifying woman or two?" she laughed with him.

He looked at her lively eyes, and entered into the spirit of the conversation. "Bond. James Bond. At your service, ma'am," he announced to her as he swept her a deep bow with a flourish.

She looked at him again, and noticed the lack of a wedding ring on his finger. Still, she had to be sure. "Well, Mr. Bond, I don't know what your wife would think of you flirting with a woman like you are."

He snorted. "Wife? ME? Yeah, right." He laughed at himself. "Women find me boring and too predictable. You know what they say about nice guys finishing last? They are RIGHT!"

She whisked her hand under the counter and came back up with a tie in her hand. "May I suggest this tie? It will make you the dashing and intriguing hero of your novels."

He looked at the tie she held. It looked pretty much like any other tie. Silk, maybe. Definitely old. No, vintage, he corrected himself. It was black with a yellow checked pattern running through it. It was nice, he admitted to himself. But, "How much is it?" he asked her. He waited as she smiled.

"Five dollars," she told him.

He blinked, surprised. "Five. That's it?"

She smiled at him again. "Yes. Five dollars, AND if you don't like it, you can bring it back. However, I personally guarantee that this tie will change your life."

Yeah, right, he thought to himself, but didn't let her see his skepticism. After all, she WAS a pretty spunky old lady. "Okay, sold."

God, where had the summer gone, he reflected as he got ready to go to work one Monday morning in late September. His hoped for summer romance had never materialized. That bitch from marketing had used him to take her to concerts and movies and amusement parks. But when Labor Day was over, so was their relationship. She had never let him touch her, either, except for the occasional kiss. The only steady relief he had gotten for the past few months was from Rosey Palmer and her sisters. Nice guys ALWAYS finish last, he thought to himself as he looked on his tie rack. His eye lit on the black silk tie he had bought last spring in that secondhand clothing store. What the heck, he thought. He hadn't worn it yet, but it was time for a change.

He left his house and waited at the bus stop as usual. It was just easier than driving downtown every day, and he sort of liked the extra time to compose himself on the way into work without having to worry about traffic.

He climbed aboard the bus and nodded at the usual driver. He flashed his pass and took his usual seat about 2/3 of the way back. He looked around at his fellow riders and recognized most of them. He looked over at the young woman who must be a secretary or clerk somewhere downtown. She was so pretty, with raven black hair that fell in smooth waves to her shoulders. Today she was wearing a cherry red suit with a miniskirt and he admired the smooth expanse of leg that she showed as she sat across the aisle from him. He observed her fingers with the matching cherry red nails smooth an imaginary wrinkle from her stockings, and then he jumped as she suddenly got up and switched seats, sitting directly next to him.

He looked into her blue eyes, and she smiled at him. Not a word was spoken between them, but she settled in and almost too casually bumped his leg with hers. He muttered an "excuse me" and moved his leg away from hers, but she seemed to give chase. He realized that it wasn't an accident as she rubbed her leg against his again. Her foot entwined with his, and he couldn't believe that this attractive woman was hitting on him. Dilbert never got this lucky!

He felt his cock twitch in his pants, and he fought the feeling. That was ALL he needed, was to get to work with a hard-on. He counted to 100, said the alphabet backwards, recited football statistics, but then he would glance down at the shapely leg against his and he would right back in the same predicament.

After about 20 minutes, the bus entered downtown. He knew her stop as well as his, since she was a regular too, and he was relieved when she got off. He had about five minutes to make the throbbing in his dick go away. Finally, as they pulled up to the stop outside his building, he was able to stand up without embarrassing himself.

He disembarked from the bus, still marveling over the woman's unexplainable actions, and entered his building. He got on the elevator with about 20 other drones and they started the long journey up. He worked on the 47th floor, and it was slow going, with people getting on and off at about every other floor. The woman in front of him was someone he had never seen before, but she had an amazing figure, displayed to advantage in a one piece dress that hugged her curves. She had a delightfully rounded bottom, and since the elevator was so crowded, she was pushed back into him. He inhaled deeply as she contacted his flaccid but still sensitive cock with her ass, and he smelled the scent of flowers from her curly blond hair right under his nose. He didn't know if she realized it, but she was gently but definitely wiggling her tush right over his prick and it was growing again.

He couldn't believe this. He hadn't had a problem with unwanted erections since he was in high school, and now here it was, happening again. He was panicking, waiting for her to yell what a pervert he was and tell everyone that he had a hard on right there, but then she turned sideways and looked up into his eyes. She smiled, and the glow in her eyes told him that she knew exactly what was happening to him and she liked it. Her cornflower blue eyes shone up at him, and she turned back around, pressing harder back against him. He couldn't help it, and let out a small groan. Her wriggling stopped, and she reached her hand back to touch him through his trousers.

The elevator was slowly emptying of people, so there was plenty of room for the remaining few to see what was happening. He wondered what he would say when one of them noticed her hand caressing his rather obvious erection. "No, no. Please. Go back to what you are doing. I simply need to get off." Perhaps he would say, "What? Oh, no. This is a new company program. A climax a day keeps the doctor away."

DING It was the 40th floor, and it was just him and the angel now. As the doors closed, she turned to him and whispered, "9:30. The women's room on the 27th floor." And then the doors opened on the 46th floor and she got out.

He was standing there as the doors opened on the 47th floor, his cock pulsating as he thought about he hands and her mouth and her ass. He held his briefcase in front of his crotch as he walked the twenty feet to his cubicle as quickly as he could.

He tried to clear his mind of the morning's events, and he wondered if he should even meet this woman he didn't know in the ladies' room in a different department. He decided it was too risky, so he logged onto his computer and began to download the figures he needed to start his work. The routineness of the chore calmed his hormones and his cock returned to its normal flaccid state.

Suddenly there was a buzz on his extension. It was his boss. She wanted to see him right now. The tone of her voice indicated that this was not an optional meeting, so he got up and quickly walked to her corner office.

"In here. Now. Shut the door." Her usually sweet voice had a hard edge on it as he looked and saw her sitting in her chair behind her executive desk.

He shut the door behind him and wondered what on earth he had done to deserve the imminent tongue-lashing he felt was coming. He turned back around and his boss smiled at him. It was the smile of the cat that ate the canary, and his heart sunk into his toes.

He sat down as directed in one of the chairs facing the desk and she began. She talked to him about cutbacks in their department. How no one's job was secure, even hers. And she wanted him to explain to her exactly why he was valuable to the company and why he should keep his job. He noticed that as she looked at him, she seemed to be staring at his tie. She had never had problems with eye contact before, so why now?

She was quiet and he started. He told her about his educational background, and how he went to seminars to keep up with the latest computer programs. How he had been there for five years now and he enjoyed his job. While he talked, he watched as she toyed with the end of her pen. She would lick it and run it around her full lips. It was disconcerting to him, to say the least. She had her right hand on her lap and she seemed to be making little circles on her leg or something. At least that was the way it seemed to him. From time to time, she would take her pen and shift it into her right hand and that too would disappear under the desk, only to reappear and she would begin to toy with it at her mouth again.

He took a deep breath after about fifteen minutes of one-sided conversation. He inhaled deeply through his nose, and held it. What was that aroma? It smelled almost like... he inhaled again. It WAS. It was the smell of an aroused pussy. The circles on her lap. The pen disappearing under the desk. Oh my god, it made sense to him now. For some unknown reason, his boss was playing with herself with him sitting right there, not five feet away.

She smiled at him again. And licked her lips. He felt a twitch in his cock, and suddenly stood and pleaded that he had to use the facilities NOW. He felt like a schoolboy asking the teacher to go to the bathroom, but he felt a little humiliation about that was FAR preferable to getting a hard on in front of his boss. Now THAT would be playing with fire.

He rushed out of her office. He went into the men's room and splashed some cold water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror. It was just the same face looking back at him. Brown hair, hazel eyes. Not especially handsome, but even features. Nose, not too big. Mouth, wide, but not too wide. Skin was fair, but not pasty. What was going on today?! And then his glance lighted on... no. That couldn't be it. The tie. He heard the old woman's voice in his head telling him that she guaranteed the tie would change his life. No. That was stupid. It was just an article of clothing. But then again, how else to explain the unusual occurrences from just this morning. Women simply did not behave this way around him.

He left the men's room shaking his head, and glanced at his watch. A couple more hours and then he could plead illness and leave early. He wanted to find that shop again.

After running figures through his computer a few times, he was finished his tasks for the day. He left a note on his desk saying that he was ill and leaving early. He had considered telling his boss, but he figured the less contact with her that day, the better.

He took another bus back to the trendy locale of that vintage clothing shop, trying not to look at any other women. He was amazed at how they found ways to get his attention or touch him in some fashion. He could like this, he thought. His cock could like this. Except that he didn't want a million women. Just one.

Unfortunately for him, when he got there, a sign was in the plate glass window indicating that the shop had moved. They had written the new address on the sign, but it was too far for him to catch a bus there today, so he walked down the street and into Starbuck's. He ordered his usual mocha latte and sat down at a small table by the street. He reached up and loosened the tie around his neck, and as he did so, he heard a small noise from the table next to his. He glanced over and recognized the redhead from his stopover here in the spring. Her eyes were fixated on the tie, and he ahemmed to move her attention to his face. As she raised her eyes to him, he was struck by the darkness of them. In contrast to the glorious flame of her hair, her eyes were completely black. Not gray, not brown. Black. He started as he realized they were just like the eyes of the old woman who had sold him the tie.

He gestured to the chair across from him and invited her to join him. She moved quickly and gracefully, sinking in the seat and locking her gaze on the tie once more. He decided to see what would happen, so he idly fiddled with it as he introduced himself. "Jim Jackson, at your service," he smiled at her as he watched her eyes remain glued to his neck.

"Kara. Kara Smythington," she responded to him automatically. She fidgeted in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her slender legs. She was wearing a denim miniskirt that clung to the curve of her hips and seemed to accentuate her trim thighs. He caught himself wondering how smooth that skin on her inner thigh was, and felt his cock twitch. He saw her glance drop down to his crotch and she smiled. She leaned toward him and looked up into his eyes. The glint of pure lust was evident in her gaze, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.

They chatted haltingly about the weather and baseball and the prospects for a long winter when suddenly Kara stood. She held her hand out to him and he took it. He didn't know what she was doing or where she was going, but he was done thinking with his brain. The little head had finally taken over for the day, and it said they were going to follow her anywhere she asked.

She pulled him out of the shop and suddenly stopped and threw her arms around him. There, on the main street of the neighborhood, at rush hour, he, Dilbert, engaged in the most wanton lascivious public display of affection he could ever have envisioned. He bent his head to kiss her, but not far, since she was almost as tall as he was. His arms wrapped themselves fully around her slimly curved body and he felt her breasts press into his chest. Their lips met and they tasted each other for the first time. Their lips met and melded, and her tongue took the initiative and boldly thrust into his mouth. It swirled over his tongue and around his teeth, finally rubbing lightly on the roof of his mouth. The kiss sent shivers down his spine, and the blood rushing to his prick. Kara pulled away slightly, but not before latching onto his bottom lip with her teeth and pulling on it.

He groaned. It had been a long time for him since he had touched a woman, but even then, he didn't think it had felt this good. Kara was a witch. She was dream come true. He was just afraid that she would pull away and slap him or something. Things like this just didn't happen to him. She pulled away all right, but grabbed his hand, and told him to follow her.

Down the street they rushed, drawing some curious glances even in this relatively busy hour on the city pavement. They stopped outside the closed up shop, and Kara pulled a key out of her pocket. Jim didn't even ask why she had it, he just accepted it, and in they went.

The darkness still had the musty smell that he remembered. He inhaled and that was about all that he had time for as she swooped down upon him, pulling him to the floor. He tried not to think about the possible dirt on the ground as she kissed him. Her tongue duelled with his, and he stopped thinking about anything other than feeling her body against his. He felt her unbutton his shirt, but she didn't stop to take it off, she just pushed it away and licked his nipple. He groaned at the feeling. He had never really thought his nipples were very sensitive, but she seemed to know exactly how to touch him. She nibbled lightly at one and then the other, and he felt his dick harden into a full erection.

She groaned as she ground her pelvis against his, and she quickly undid his belt and unzipped his pants. He was wearing cotton boxer shorts, and they stood out sharply from the tension that his erect cock had put on them.

She smiled in the darkness, feeling her pussy grow wetter, and she pulled his boxers and pants down to his knees. They both looked in the gloom at his throbbing cock. He was actually pretty proud of it, since it was slightly larger than average. It was about 8 inches long, and pretty thick. Or so the seven women he had slept with had told him. She smiled again, and swooped her head down, taking all of his cock into her warm mouth in one motion. He moaned loudly. Her mouth felt incredible. She was sucking him, but somehow she managed to keep her tongue swirling around him, and he wanted nothing more than to come right then and there. She pulled away slightly, and licked just the head, flicking her tongue against that sensitive spot just underneath the crown on the underside of his shaft. "Oh GOD. Kara..." he moaned again.

She fondled his balls as she licked and sucked him, gently rolling them back and forth. Nuzzling her tongue at the base of his shaft, right between his cock and balls, and then slowly licking up until she could once again suck him deeply into her mouth. He had never felt a woman deep throat him before, but as he felt the tightness of her throat around the head of his prick, he knew she had done it. He looked down and saw the flame of her hair spread across his thighs and stomach. He was about to come, and he wanted to stop it now. He wanted to make it good for her too. He tried to pull her head up. "No. Kara. No.... Noo..... Argh..." And he just couldn't hold out against her teasing, sucking mouth. He came, in huge spurts, down her throat. He felt her slide his cock partially out of her mouth so that his juices landed on her tongue. She swallowed audibly, and he thought he heard a faint "mmmmm" from her before he lost consciousness.

SLAP. SLAP. Jim felt a burning sensation across his face. He opened his eyes, disoriented, and looked up into familiar black eyes. Kara... he thought. But then the wrinkles registered with his brain and he opened his eyes wider and sat straight up. He was still half-naked, sitting on the floor of the abandoned clothing shop. The old woman who had sold him the tie was standing next to him. It was dark out, but the lights were on, and he could see her clearly. The faint sound of sobbing drifted across the room to him.

"What... Who are you? Where is Kara? What time is it? What the HELL is going on?" he demanded of the old woman.

The woman laughed unexpectedly. "Kara. Come over here, young woman. Now!" she called.

Jim rose to his feet, trying to organize his clothing as Kara walked over. She was so beautiful, he thought to himself. Even with her red hair in disarray, and her black eyes reddened from crying, she was gorgeous to him. He couldn't think of any other woman who would ever be so attractive to him. Not any fashion model, actress, or porn star could compete with the creature that stood before him.

The old woman cleared her throat. "Jim, I think it is time that I explained to you what is going on. Let's go in the back room and have a seat."

The three of them trooped into the office area of the shop and fortunately there were still a few chairs there. They all sat down, and the old woman began to speak.

"First of all, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Diedre. Diedre O'Leary. Kara is my granddaughter. My ONLY granddaughter," she stressed as she smiled over at the young woman. "She is the daughter of my daughter Megan." Mrs. O'Leary sighed.

"I guess I should tell you about myself first. You see, Jim. When I came over to America from Ireland, I was a very lonely and sad woman. And in those days, a lady didn't seek the companionship of men like they do nowadays. You were a virgin until your wedding day, and woe betide the hussy that wasn't. Men those days didn't buy the cow if they could get the milk for free, you know. Anyway, I met a certain young man. A Rory O'Leary. As Irish as Irish could be. Red hair, hot temper, hard drinking. Oh, he was something, my Rory," she continued, drifting into a reverie of her youth.

"Rory and I met at church, of course. We began stepping out, and I completely disregarded any stories that I heard of Rory with other women. They couldn't be true of MY Rory, I thought. I was so innocent," Mrs. O'Leary said sadly, shaking her head.

"Time came, and Rory and I were married. In church. Right and tight, by the parish priest. And we were happy. I even enjoyed the er... ummm... physical side of marriage. But Rory, well. He couldn't confine himself to just one woman, and after about a year or two, I realized that he was still buying milk elsewhere, if you get the idea, Jim. I was crushed. And I was determined to make him want me, and ONLY me, forever. So I made a trip to Madame. She was an old Creole woman from down South. There were rumors that she dabbled in the dark arts, and I thought that I could get her to make me a love potion for Rory. So that he would drink it and only want me forever. But Madame didn't work that way. She told me to come back in a week and she would have a solution for me."

Mrs. O'Leary leaned forward towards Kara, and patted her knee. "Pay attention child. I know I never told you this story before, but its time you heard it and understand your destiny."

She leaned back in her chair, and Jim looked at her. "Now. Where was I? Oh yes. I went back to Madame after a week, and she told me that she didn't do love potions. I was very upset at the time, and I am afraid I yelled at her. She told me to calm down, and then she presented me with the tie. Yes, Jim. That very tie that you are even now wearing. She explained to me that I was to give the tie to Rory and then make sure that I was the first woman he was 'intimate' with after he put it on. You see, Jim... Kara... the tie makes the wearer irresistible to women. UNTIL he consummates the first act of love while wearing it. Then he is forever bound to the woman who brought him the pleasure. He will never want another woman again as long as she lives. Oh.... and there is one more little catch... it is a mutual binding. You see, I was as bound to Rory as he was to me. It is kind of like a guarantee of faithfulness. It's actually quite romantic. The spell, curse, whatever, that is on the tie is permanent. It will never leave the tie. Didn't you ever wonder and marvel at your parents' devotion to one another, Kara? Megan and Harry experienced the magic of the tie as well. I chose Harry for her, and they lived happily ever after. And, now, I have chosen Jim for you. He is a good solid man. I realized that when he first came into the store. You will be so happy together, and I will have great-grandchildren."

With that, Diedre O'Leary relaxed back in her chair and smiled at Jim and Kara. It was a satisfied smile.

Kara smiled back, but it was a nasty smile. The smile of a woman who knows that she has won. "But, Grandmother, Jim and I didn't CONSUMMATE anything. Oh sure, JIM was satisfied, but I wasn't. He came in my MOUTH, Grandmother. That's it. So you see, Grandmother, you might as well take your tie back right now."

Kara directed her gaze away from her grandmother and smiled at Jim. And then she noticed the tie he was wearing. She felt her nipples harden and her pussy moisten. She fought the urge, and didn't even notice as her grandmother smiled, rose from her chair and left the room.

Jim kind of liked the look in Kara's eyes as she stared at him. He could see her nipples through her shirt, and he realized it was because he still wore that tie. He was still irresistible to women. Including Kara. He thought about it briefly, realized that he had always dreamed of finding the perfect woman who would always love him and want him as much as he wanted her and loved her. Kara was intelligent, beautiful, and had the most incredible mouth he had ever had wrapped around him. He was looking forward to feeling the rest of her wrapped around him. The blood rushed to his rapidly growing cock as he called lightly, "Kara. Kara.... you are mine...." and then he fiddled with his tie, drawing her attention there once more.

Mrs. O'Leary smiled to herself as she remembered Rory. He had been such a bull in bed. She wondered if Jim would treat Kara just as well. She almost smirked as she heard Kara's wail of passion as she left the store and locked the door behind her.