The Shoe Experiment

I was rushing to work yesterday morning when I noticed the state of my shoes. I commented that I need to get new ones. You frowned at my worn, black patent leather Ferragamo Vara pumps and asked if I am getting “those” again. I said of course I am, these are classic. Okay, maybe I will get them in black calf instead. You shook your head, ”no, no. I’m buying.” You pulled me over to my closet, handed me a short black skirt. You told me to change into it later, but to keep my black fishnet stockings on. You said you will pick me up at my office. Frowning at me again, you warned me not to even think about sneaking out and getting yet another pair of ”those.”

At the end of the day, I was getting ready to leave when you showed up. I was actually a little surprised. You came in and closed my office door, telling me to change into the shorter skirt. I slipped out of the long pencil skirt I wore to work. You told me to wait a minute, that my stockings were not right. You grabbed a pair of scissors, ordered me to spread my legs while you kneeled in front of me, grabbing the crotch and cutting it out. You had a more satisfied look, ”that is much better, now put the skirt on.” Astonished and instantly going from zero to ”FUCK me,” I silently put the skirt on and slipped my feet back into my old shoes. You held my hand in the cab and occasionally stroked my thighs, which I kept open in invitation, but you ignored. Just before getting out of the cab, you told me you want to see the invitation when I try on ”better shoes.” I was very anxious to please you by this point.

With your arm around my shoulders, we walked through the large door held open by the store’s doorman. We strolled around and browsed the collection. I teased you and showed you another Vara in a new blush color. You gave it a cold stare. I whispered for you to pick out whatever you want. You rewarded me with a glide of your hand down my back, resting at the small of my back. You looked over the store staff and summoned one of the young men. Before I knew it, the lovely Italian man escorted me to a sofa chair and shoes magically appeared. Instead sitting down next to me, you sat across from me and alternated between teasing and piercing me with your eyes while the salesman kneeled between my legs. When he slipped the new shoe onto my foot, his hand started to shake a little and his head snapped down suddenly. I felt my cheeks grew warm. I looked up at you and you stared at me until I parted my legs a little more. Then, you gave me a smile. It seemed to take a long time to lace up the lovely new shoe and no time for me to start dripping in my seat. Then the other shoe was slipped onto my foot. This time, his head was not so bent down. I looked at you staring at him looking up between my legs and staring at me. I was barely able to stand when my feet were both fully laced up.

I sauntered around after my salesman helped me to my feet. He gave me his arm to steady me. I did a little modeling attempt for you. You looked me over critically as if I was displaying for the store’s trunk show. Then you shook your head, ”no, it’s not working for me. I think they look better without the fishnets. Why don’t we try that?” I must have looked quite crestfallen. The salesman quickly came to my rescue and assured me I am very ”bella” and that Signore may be right, ”too much lattice distracting beauty.” Would we like him to escort us to the fitting room? Well, okay………… He led us to an expansive dressing room and sat me down again to undo the lacing and remove the shoes. He glanced up at me and I watched him. Then he excused himself from the dressing room.

I slowly looked up at you while I wiggled my skirt up, arched my hips to pull the fishnets down and tossed them to you. You caressed your face with them, taking deep breaths to draw my scent into your soul. You kissed the top of my head, ”let’s see that invitation again.” Then you pocketed my stockings and you called the Italian man back in. Once again, he was on his knees, lifting my feet into the lovely shoes, lacing them up to my ankles. All the while, this time, glancing up between my parted legs and swallowing a few times. After he finished with the shoes, his composure a little shaken, he told us to take our time deciding and he left us. I again did a catwalk walk toward you, showing off my newly elevated, bare legs. You grabbed my arm when I approached you and swung me around. I knew what you wanted and I planted both hands against the wall of mirrors and pushed my hips and ass out and up high. Our eyes fixed on each other in the mirror, you pushed my skirt up, your pants down, and your cock into my cunt. You clamped one hand on my mouth and held my hips with your other arm. We fucked for a long time, and when you finally eased your hand from my mouth, I told you I will take the shoes.