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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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It suddenly became clear to me that she had noticed the furtive glances I sent in her direction. I was interested in the article I was reading from the hotel's newspaper, but her dipping her nylon foot in and out of shiny black heel shoe prevented me from concentrating.
She was wearing a black dress where a white went from her left shoulder to the right ride shoulder and meandered its way along her right side. Her husband was sitting opposite her and were enjoying each other's company. My intention was not to interrupt them , but rather to let her know that I found her desirable.
So I stared at her discreetly, but at the same time, wanting her to notice me. I wanted to be like a child who wanted to steal jam from his neighbour but didn't mind being caught by her.
The first time our eyes met, I turned my gaze away, pretending to find inspiration by staring at the window next to her.
But soon, we began to perform a dance. While I looked, she was in deep conversation was her husband. She would indicate her turn by pretending to look for something in her handbag, or call the waiter, to signal that it was her turn to stare.
It also became obvious to me that she learned how best to torture me. She would cross her legs so as to allow herself to dangle her black leather shoes with red coated soles. She was an expert at almost removing her heel, placing it heel on top of her toes and delicately swinging it around. This, I realised, was when it was my turn to admire her.
She projected her mesmerising powers in other ways too. She expertly placed her shoe perpendiculary to me and proceeded to caress it up and down the heel. She would then squeeze the tip of her shoe with sole of her feet... and then back to running the tip of her big toe along the erect heel.
But my afternoon was going to become stranger still.
She ripped a piece of paper from her notebook and began writing on it.
She neatly folded it and, under the pretense of putting her heel shoe back on again, she put that defenceless, creamy white, paper, inside her heel shoe, compressing it between her warm nyloned sole and the curve of leather.
What a wonderful sight, I thought, but also, why did she do this?
She then waited till I looked at her again, that she stood up and went to whisper something in her husband's ear. He seemed a bit shocked and confusing. Looking left and right before he finally stared my way. He began to shake his head unconvincingly, but then she whisper something else and seemed resigned to whatever she had suggested.
She walked towards a low wooden table by the entrance. This is where guests would wait for their taxi but noone was there at the moment. She sat on one of the couches and, when nobody was looking, crossed her legs again, dangled her shoe and let the helpless squashed piece of paper fall.
She looked at me, and placed the paper inside one of the magazines lying there. She then stood up, and walked towards the staircase before I lost sight of her.
What now? Did she really suggest something? Should I dare stand up now and run the risk of everybody correlating my action and hers? But if I don't, I might lose this opportunity forever.
So I resolved to walk towards the table where she had left the paper. I blocked everything out and tried to looked casual. I thought that if I was not conscious of other people I would be more relaxed.
I sat down and pretend to go through the magazines there and quickly located the piece of paper. "Room 169" it said.
As my heart was beating, I put the magazine down, stood up as naturally as I could and took the lift to the first floor... which I then realised was silly but then again, was heart was beating fast enough, I did not need to give it more exercise.
As the doors closed, I looked in the mirror, adjusting my hair and white shirt.
"Is this a mistake?"
Was I crazy?"
"There is still time to walk away from the whole thing?"
I struggled to push these thoughts away, but I did.
163...165...167...
There I was, 169.The door was ajar. Still time to flee.... but I open the door.
There she was, lying on a sofa, elegant, confident, in control.
She was holding a glass of champagne in one hand, and "Madame Bovary" in the other.
She barely acknowledged me and began reading from the book: "In the avenue a green light dimmed by the leaves lit up the short moss that crackled softly beneath her feet. " and began dangling her heel shoe, summoning me.
I approached her quietly and knelt at the side of the sofa.
I wasn't sure whether I could touch her with my hands. So I began by kissing the rim of her heel shoe. Gently so as not to upset her.
She then continued "Some natures are so sensitive to certain smells; and it would even be a very fine question..." and she flexed her toes so as to remove the heel of the shoe..."to study both in its pathological and physiological relation. "
I began smelling too... rather, I was sniffing, filling up my lungs with her aroma.
Then, I began licking her heel and tried to pull the shoe off her foot. It wasn't working so I decided to bite the heel between my front teeth and remove her shoe making sure it wouldn't fall.
I did the same thing with the other shoe. Now, her beautiful rounded toes were exposed. She stretched her toes, probably in provocation and read "She laughed at getting none of it, while with the tip of her tongue passing between her small teeth she licked drop by drop the bottom of her glass. "
I understood what she wanted.
I held her ankles in my hands and began kissing her nyloned toes one and by one, from her left foot to her right, and back. Then I kissed her heel, and her sides and then finally inside her arches. I went back to caring about her toes. I blew warm air through her nylons and moaned "madame".
She seemed pleased enough. She read "this name that fills my whole soul, and that escaped me". She then picked up one of the shoes with the tip of her toe and made me hold it and indicated that she wanted me to get closer to her.
She took the shoe off my hands and placed it vertically, the heel facing her and exposing the open sole. She pulled me by the chin and sunk my face inside her shoe.
I was again made to breathe from her scent, a mixture of leather and nylon and she must have worn some white musk perfume too.
I was also made to pull my trousers down and reveal the extent of my excitement.
As she saw this, she ran the tip of the heel along my erection and collected my nectar and make me lick it.
She repeated this several times. Once, she even tasted it herself.
"Her black dress, whose drapery spread out like a fan, made her seem more slender, taller." she said.
She flexed her knee and ordered I must stand out.
Her nyloned foot, investigated my intimate parts, expertly caressing, squeezing me between her nyloned soles and then rubbing nyloned toes until I began leaking again.I could see how a seam of my precum stuck to the tip of the seam of her nylon and let it hung for a while. Once her nylons were soaked enough, she made me licked them clean.
She did so a few more times, until I was ready to burst.
She read again "He did not know what recreation of her whole being drove her more and more to plunge into the pleasures of life.".
She took her heel shoe and placed my cock inside it, spreading the slow but constant flow all inside it.
Once both her shoes were moist she put them back on, stood up and put herself together in front of the long mirror.
"Why, at least, was not her husband one of those men of taciturn passions who work at their books all night..." she said while smiling.
She was gone.
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