I was walking in New York City running errands and went into a very small, men’s clothing store on Columbus Avenue. The store carries nice, affordable clothes from a French clothing designer and was having a 50% off sale. I entered the store and picked up a shirt when I heard (and then saw) the store clerk, a late 30s-something woman. She asked me what size I wear and told me that most of the store’s clothing was subject to the discount. She was the only one working there and I was the only customer. I noted that she was pretty, French, and wearing a loose, large T-shirt, that left me wondering whether she was wearing a bra. She was cute and sexy. Snapping back to being interactive, I told her I wear a Large usually, and she said, “You look like it, you have a good shape and I think that is the right size for you.” She brought me some shirts to look at and I liked a couple and decided to try them istanbul travesti on. There were only two dressing rooms, both small and covered only by a heavy, hanging curtain that was difficult to move. I was only trying on the shirts, so I didn’t care whether the room was fully covered. I could see people on the street pass by while I tried semi-successfully to close the curtain. I tried on some shirts and noticed that she had taken to folding clothes on the table just outside of the dressing room, so when she looked up as she spoke to me, she could see into my room and see at least half of me. I went in and out a couple of times trying on shirts and summer sweaters and asking her opinion. She was helpful and complimentary. She asked me if I wanted to try on any pants, shorts, or jeans and so I came out to look at some. Their pants are in European sizes so we were guessing at the right istanbul travestileri size. I am a little taller than 5″11′ and weigh about 178 pounds and have a 32-inch waist. She pulled out some size 42s and 44s and I took them in the dressing room. I found myself feeling excited to try these on since the curtain would be partially open and she would be able to see in if she wanted to. It was all very unplanned (the self-exposure), which made the situation very exciting. As I had hoped, she was able to see in when she was standing in the same spot as before. I changed out of my long, oversized cargo shorts into a size 42 pair of blue shorts. The shorts were great, but a little tight in the legs, but the waist was fine. But my underwear (I wear stretchy cotton boxer briefs, so they’re tight but not ultra thin) were bunching up. Nevertheless, I was semi-hard from the erotic nature travesti istanbul of half-changing in front of her. I came out and she saw the shorts and thought they looked fine, but understood that I thought they were too tight. I wondered if she could see the outline of my half hard cock through the tight, stretchy shorts. My cock was clearly visible when I saw myself in the mirror, but I pretended there was nothing unusual happening. I went back in and changed in and out of some more shorts. She remained standing outside the room about 4 feet away and could clearly see that my cock was long and thick in my briefs as she talked to me. I didn’t hide it but I made sure to turn toward her so that she could see it if she wanted to. I feigned trying to close the curtain more out of modesty, but I failed miserably at doing so. Which was good. I was so turned on by now, but there was little I could do otherwise – the front door of the store was open, people could wander in suddenly, there were no other rooms in the store and they shared a backdoor with the coffee/tea place next door. So it was just me, the dressing room, and this very cute, very sexy French woman.