~ erotica ~
"May I?"
He gave a small head nod in consent. I practically jumped up from my seat and scurried towards him, descending down to the floor, resting on my knees by his feet.
His boots were tall stiff leather that, over time, had come to meld closer to the shape of his calf. The very top of each boot ended just below his knee.
He had ladder-laced each boot to the top, cinched each tight, wrapped the lace around his calf, tied with a simple bow in the front, and tucked the excess lace in between the tongue and side of his boot.
I found the ends of one, bringing them back out to the front. Slowly, I pulled the bow lose, leaving just a simple overhand knot. Hooking my forefinger, I made just enough space for my digit to fit between his leather and the lace before languidly tugging the crossed fiber forward until the two pieces separated.
The half of the boot lace that weaved under his work I rested to the side of his boot. I gripped the other's end and again used my forefinger to hook into the lace, slowly, intentionally pulling it through the eyelet, leaving just a fraction of its length at the end, creating a floppy U shape that dangled above the tongue.
This time, gripping the side of the U closest to the eyelet, I hooked my finger once more and pulled, sliding the lace through, leaving about four inches between the previous set of eyelets, and creating yet another floppy U. I repeated this process over and over and over again, working down his leg, til I came to the last set of eyelets.
Now, at the toe of his boot, I spread the sides of his leather apart, loosening the grip on his foot, creating the space he would soon need. Scooting myself forward, I wrapped my thighs around his leather and sat on his boot, my clit resting on his toe. With my head still tilted down, I cupped my hands in the back, gripping onto the heel.
"No."
My head tilted up and saw his face. His eyes looked stern, but not upset. He directed my gaze to his other boot. It seemed his preferred process was different from how I'd been taught, but I was happy to appease his wishes however he wanted.
Unsettling my body from his boot, still on my knees, I scooted over to his other foot. Again, I found his tucked bow. Again, I took care in undoing the simple knot, as well as the initial loosening of the crossed lace. Again, I pulled through each eyelet in long measured strokes, taking care to run the lace against the leather in hopes that he felt the friction even through the barrier. Again, I came to his last set of eyelets, spread the sides of his boot, and loosened the leather to give room for his foot.
And, just as before, head down, my thighs hugged his boot, my hands cupped his heel, and my clit rested on his toe. I waited patiently for him to slip his foot from his boot.
But then I felt the gentle rock up and onto my clit. Felt his muscles flex beneath me. Felt as he slowly maneuvered his toe up and down, up and down.
My grip on his heel grew tighter. My thighs squeezed together. I tried to keep my breathing low and calm. I licked my lips, sighed, and then bit my lower lip.
Was this a test? Was this a tease? Either way, I knew what I wanted, what he drove me closer to with each flex of his foot.
"Please?" It was a whisper.
"No." It was a command.
I bit my lip harder. I rested my forehead against his shin.
"Please?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
He gripped my hair, tilted my head back, and looked into my eyes. There was a muted satisfaction in his gaze as he took in my wanting agony.
"Please, Sir?"
A wide grin broke across his face.
"Yes."
He lifted his leg up hard multiple times as my body shaked before freeing his foot from his leather. He released my hair and I bent my head down, resting it against his boot. I picked up the loose laces and draped them inside of his boot before setting it to the side.
Again, I scooted over to his foot and placed my body as I knew he wished it, and as I so wanted it. This time he merely lifted his foot out; no reprisal of my ecstasy tonight. I draped the laces inside as before and set the second boot next to the first.
Still on my knees, I leaned over, resting my hands on the floor beside his leather. I licked the toe of each boot clean, and then kissed his boots.
The Immigrant "Invasion" Is Just WMDs All Over Again
-
There is no immigrant invasion at the southern border of the United States.
That needs to be said at the outset any time you wanna talk about What's
Wron...
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