Loading...If you’ve ever been to Eighth Street in Manhattan you must have noticed the shoe stores. Hundreds of people, tourists, NYU students, serious shoppers, surge into and out of them every day looking for bargains. Every language you can imagine is heard there: Japanese, Hebrew, Arabic, Spanish, you get the idea.
My girlfriend Nancy dragged me there late one Sunday afternoon after an intense day of shopping in the Village. I silently gritted my teeth. Nancy must have owned at least 200 pairs of shoes, and I must admit that to my mind one pair of black sandals with a chunk heel is pretty much the same as any other. This attitude is met with derisive scorn, as if I were an imbecile for failing to note the microscopic differences between a fifty- dollar shoe and a five-hundred-dollar shoe.
Hey, I’m a guy. Give me an every day pair of sneakers and one good pair of shoes and I’m set for life.
As I wistfully thought about taking the PATH back to Hoboken Nancy sized up about a hundred shops with identical windows. Finally she picked a store and we went in. To my tired eyes it looked like any other shoe store I’d been dragged to. There was the usual selection of sandals, sneakers, and sensible every day shoes, and nothing leapt out at me. We were the only customers in the place. The salesclerk slumped by the cash register reading a magazine. She wore a bored expression like a weapon. She was some kind of surly Eurotrash, decked out in a skin tight belly shirt and micro mini. Her stylishly short bottle-blonde hair was slightly unkempt by the end of the day. Her navel was adorned by a gleaming little ring. On her well-tanned bare legs were a chunky pair of shiny black platforms. Her name, she said with a yawn, was Sabine. If we needed any help we were to let her know soon, as she was closing up at six and wasn’t staying a moment later.
Nancy poked around the store for awhile, and I cooled my heels looking out the window, watching the traffic go by and wishing for a cold beer. She turned into a little alcove at the back of the store and I heard her gasp. Curious, I ventured back there. “Look at these,” she said with a slight flush in her face. The alcove featured several dozen pairs of outlandish shoes, with outrageous colors, textures and absurd heel heights. Many of these were well within the range of fetish footwear. Now these were the kinds of shoes I’d pay attention to! Nancy was transfixed by one pair in particular. She referred to a pair of shiny black thigh high platform boots. Even in this outlandish assortment they leapt out from among the other shoes. The soles of the boots were two inches thick and the wicked looking stilettoes towered a good six inches high. They were quite simply the hottest boots I’ve ever seen. I thought of those cartoons with the sexy devil girls in boots and felt my underwear get a bit tighter.
Nancy removed them from the shelf and eyed them from every direction. She smiled in delight when she made out her reflection in the material. Running her hand over the shiny surface she made a small yummy noise. “Here, feel this,” she said. She ran the gleaming shaft of the boot across my cheek. The sensation was smooth and cool, not like leather at all. She put the boot on the floor and held it up to her leg. “My God, I’ve never seen boots like these! Talk about fuck me shoes. I want them.” I had the feeling that I was going to be out a couple hundred bucks very soon, but the idea of seeing my girlfriend in those boots offset the financial hit I was in for.
When Sabine saw Nancy playing with the boot she perked up. Stubbing out her cigarette and marking her place in the magazine she got up and expressed interest in us for the first time. “I didn’t figure you for this type of shoe,” she said. “In fact, you looked so boring, so suburban, that I was just waiting for you to leave so I could go home early.” I bristled at the insult. I mean, I’m a Jersey guy, sure, but there’s no need to be rude. She and Nancy started chatting, though, and I knew I was in for the long haul.
After an eternity in the stock room Sabine found the proper size and brought them out to Nancy. As my girlfriend slipped out of her Reeboks Sabine stopped her. “These boots are designed to hug the leg exactly,” she lectured. “You’d never get them up over your jeans. If you want to try these on the jeans will have to come off.” Nancy looked at Sabine and then at me. Her face flushed deep red. “It’s up to you,” Sabina continued and turned back to the stockroom.
Nancy looked at me again and I shrugged. It was her call. “Can I get some privacy, at least? Isn’t there a dressing room, or a ladies room or something?” She reluctantly looked at the devil boots laying in the box at her feet. “I’m not dropping my pants in the middle of the store!”
Lighting another cigarette Sabine gestured around. “The store is empty. It’s the end of the day. Who will see? Here, this is what I will do. Maybe you will be more comfortable.” She walked up front and flipped the open/closed sign. The shades were pulled down and the exterior neon sign turned off. “There now, we’re closed.” Sabine returned to us and smiled. “I promise you, no one will know or see. Or care, for that matter.”
Nancy took a breath and steeled herself. I knew that look. When she really wanted something, when she made her mind up, there was no turning back. She unbuttoned her jeans and slowly pulled the zipper down, staring me in the eye. Sabine watched her coolly, smoking. There was a charge in the air. I felt the first stages of one of the biggest hard-ons of my life. Nancy wriggled her jeans down and kicked them off. She stood there with her hands on her hips, wearing a flushed expression, her Shonen Knife T shirt and her white cotton Calvin Klein underpants. She looked great.
Sabine took her over to a comfortable chair and sat her down. Nancy slipped her right foot inside its matching boot. Sabine gently took it and extended her leg until my girlfriend’s ankle rested on her knee. Sabine wrapped the shaft up and around Nancy’s leg. Holding the boot together with one hand she reached down and slowly worked the zipper up, straightening the boot as she went along. When she was finished the boot ended less than six inches from Nancy’s crotch. The process was repeated until my girlfriend sat there with two new gleaming black legs. Standing up carefully Nancy hobbled around the store on the unfamiliar heels with Sabine beside her, hand on her arm. As Nancy sauntered around the store, figuring out her new stride, she walked straighter, more confidently. There was a look on her face I hadn’t seen before. I liked it.
Nancy was soon striding across the hard floor, heels clacking loudly in the small space, as if she’d worn the heels for years. Sabine sat there admiring her. My girlfriend strode over to me and stared, hand on hips. The contrast between her pale skin and soft white cotton and the shiny black patent leather took my breath away. I reached out and ran my hand along her booted leg. As I admired the slick smoothness I was startled to feel Sabine’s hand there too. “Those are lovely boots,” she said in her soft European accent. “Most of the customers, the tourists, see them on display and snicker, as if they are a novelty item. No one really appreciates the beauty of a fine boot.” She stubbed out her cigarette and got up. “In fact, you have inspired me. I’ll be right back.” When she left the room Nancy and I ate each other’s faces in the deepest, wettest kiss we’d ever shared. I ran my hands over her tits and ass and between her legs. I wasn’t entirely surprised to feel wetness. Her hand was simultaneously rubbing my hard-on until I thought I’d burst my zipper. The ride home was going to be very long indeed, I thought.
When she returned from the stock room, Sabine had replaced her platforms with a pair of white leather thigh high boots. No stranger to this footwear, she sauntered around the shop in her four-inch stilettos as if she were in everyday flats. Her skirt had been discarded, and the thong she wore barely covered her obviously shaved pussy. “I’ve wanted to try these on for some time,” she said. “I just haven’t had the opportunity.”
Sabine dragged over two chairs. She arranged them side-by-side and sat down in one. Patting the empty seat she smiled at Nancy and invited her over. Nancy returned the smile and sat down. Sabine beckoned me over. Grabbing Nancy’s hand as if they were grade-school best friends, she made a proposition. “Let’s have a contest,” she said. “Let’s see whose boots you admire more.” Sabine smiled and stuck her foot out. Her white leather boots had a pungent animal scent and a sharp taste assaulted my tongue when it made contact. When Sabine shifted about in her seat there was an almost inaudible creak as the virgin leather bent and folded. It was soft and supple like that on a fine lady’s glove. I kissed and rubbed my face over her finely arched foot and up her leg. Smiling devilishly she reached her elegant foot out and pressed the sole hard into my throbbing hard-on. A few pulses of her foot and I was groaning.
Nancy’s boots were form-fitting and shone like black glass. They didn’t really have a taste, but there was a slight indescribable aroma as I got close. My tongue slid madly over the slick surface. I covered the length of her boot with caresses, kisses and licks, and repeated the process on her other leg. As I caressed her legs her warmth radiated through the patent. In the corner of my eye I saw Sabine playing with herself, frigging quickly as she watched me worship my girlfriend. I felt Nancy grab my hair and mash my face into her boots, and the world began to spin.
“You look uncomfortable,” Sabine whispered salaciously to me. “Your jeans are all bunched, that must hurt so bad,” she continued. I took the hint. I exchanged looks with Nancy and she nodded silently, her face red with uncertainty and desire. I disengaged myself from her and stood up, which was more difficult than I expected. My jeans and underwear came down in one swoop, the waistband on my jockeys tearing at the motion. I tore off my shirt, nearly shredding it too, and I stood naked in a shoe store in front of two gorgeous booted women.
I forgot all about Hoboken.
Sabine and Nancy began rubbing their legs together, playing booted footsie for me. The soft squeak of leather and patent rubbing together in the deathly silent store filled my ears like a church bell. The two women smiled and continued holding hands, the look on their faces inviting me to join them. I fell to my knees and dove in face first.
I knelt directly between them and each girl placed a boot on my shoulders. I swung my head madly from side to side, kissing leather here, licking patent there, rubbing my cheeks against each boot, marveling in the differences mere inches away from either side of my face. My penis, with no hand stimulation at all, was slapping my belly like a piece of steel. When I opened my eyes from my reverie I saw both Nancy and Sabine rubbing themselves furiously, Nancy with her eyes closed and Sabine staring directly at me as I worshipped her. Even though virgin leather was only inches from my nose I began to smell aroused female.
“I believe you have made your choice,” Sabine husked. She released Nancy’s hand and leaned in close to her. I thought she was going to french Nancy but instead Sabine gave her a quick buss on the cheek. “Stand up, love. Your man has a gift for you.” Nancy rose from her chair and stood before me. Her underpants vanished in the blink of an eye. From my vantage point she seemed ten feet tall. I smiled at her and rubbed my cheek against her booted thigh, her pubic hair slightly scratching my forehead. Her familiar aroma, inches away, filled my senses. Nancy smiled and ruffled my hair gently, her eyes calm yet burning.
Sabine got up as well and stood beside Nancy. She gently took my girlfriend’s arm and turned her around. I was now facing Nancy’s ample, delicious ass, the ass she was embarrassed by but that I loved. I couldn’t resist planting a little kiss on her asscheek and she giggled like a schoolgirl.
Sabine gently nudged me forward until I was hugging Nancy’s legs. I guessed what she wanted and slid my penis between her boots. The warmth of her legs radiated through the patent, warming my surrounded penis and my groping hands. Nancy slowly rocked back and forth, the smooth warm plastic slipping past my dick, lubricated nicely with pre-cum. The sensations were overwhelming and I was soon humping her legs. Nancy frigged herself with one hand and slid her other hand madly over her breasts and down to her boots, caressing the patent covering her splendid thighs. Her ass bobbed in and out of my face and I nuzzled greedily with every chance I got.
Sabine stood beside us, urging us on. She would nudge my face with her leather and I soon switched over from Nancy’s ass to her delicious tangy leather. She grabbed my hair, harder than Nancy had, and mashed my nose into her white booted thigh. Her thong was practically shredded by her pumping fingers, and I had a front-row seat of her shaved pussy consuming two, then three fingers as she diddled. The sensations soon overwhelmed me and all control was lost.
My poor penis squirted, hitting Nancy’s boots with a splat. It was a mind-blowing sight, gooey white running down the insides of two shiny black booted legs. I fell back, panting and sweating, penis dripping on the carpet. Nancy came hard, hips bucking and hair flying. Sabine also got off, nostrils flaring, making little snorts as she did so. The room smelled of sweat, leather and cum, a perfume combination that I had never experienced before but now loved.
I still knelt between the women, head spinning. Sabine bent down and ran her fingers through my still-warm goo on Nancy’s boots, running it around the black patent. She then stood again and put her arm around my girlfriend’s shoulder. With a smile she offered her cum-dripped finger to Nancy. Nancy stared for a moment and then tentatively stuck out her tongue. Sabine swirled her finger around and then slid the digit into Nancy’s mouth. My girlfriend eagerly sucked Sabine’s finger clean as I stared dumfounded. Sabine swiped more cum off Nancy’s legs and licked her fingers, eyes shut in ecstacy. “It’s only right to clean up afterwards,” she murmured. Nancy giggled.
“We cannot neglect you either, my love,” Sabine grinned, and then pushed my face into my own cum on Nancy’s legs. I resisted at first, disgusted, but then sampled my own essence for the first time. Before I knew it, I had eagerly swabbed Nancy’s boots to a sparkling shine once again.
Nancy and I dressed quietly afterwards, not quite embarrassed but puzzled at what had just transpired. Sabine lit another cigarette and smiled as she rang up both her boots and Nancy’s. I didn’t even blink as I signed the five hundred dollar receipt. “You realize that I will keep the white boots myself,” she said, “in case you wish to return.”