Her First Foot Boy

"Nice shoes," she shouted over the music. "Want to fuck?"

Startled, he looked down at his shoes. "Uh, thanks. They're, um, Shimano." He had thrown together a last-minute costume out of the same jersey and bib shorts he'd wear on his morning ride the next day. The shoes were the worst. The protruding plastic cleat under the toe was slippery and its height gave him a pronounced waddle.

They looked nearly orthotic next to her stilettos.

"Nice shoes yourself!"

She leaned in, and he politely averted his eyes before she treated him to a look right down her magnificent cleavage. "You're dodging the question!"

Question? Oh, right. He laughed politely. Then he allowed himself one quick look up and down.

As he suspected, she was dressed to impress. Long legs in smoky nylon. A surprisingly modest A-line skirt nearly touching her knees. A leather corset that lifted and separated her plump ivory breasts. Black gloves nearly to the shoulder, so shiny and skintight they could only be latex.

Oh, and a headband with a little pair of devil horns. She had half-assed her costume too, in a very different way.

Want to fuck? God, if only.

"No, seriously!" she shouted.

"Seriously, what?"

She huffed and grabbed his wrist. "Quieter outside!"

Out on the porch, she said, "Hey, sorry, I came on a little strong there. I'm Lily."

"Benjamin. And, yeah, first time I've heard anyone say that in real life."

"Sorry, I'm not used to..." she shrugged.

"Making the first move?" He could believe that. She probably had a pretty skewed idea how people approached strangers at parties, if she regularly showed up looking like that.

She shrugged again, glancing away awkwardly. Then she looked back at him and said, "I'm a friend of Carlotta's."

"Oh! How is she?" It'd been an amicable break-up but they hadn't kept in touch as well as they'd promised they would.

"Fine. So, look, this is kind of creepy, and probably I didn't help by---" She motioned back inside. Then she took a deep breath and blurted out, "Carlotta said you were into shoes."

He nodded warily, uncertain where this was going.

She looked up at him, and this time he had no trouble keeping his eyes focused on her suddenly open, vulnerable expression. She said, "I've never been with anyone like that."

Dear Penthouse, there I was...

This was way too vivid for a dream. And Carlotta wasn't the kind to gossip. If she'd told Lily about his shoe fetish, it'd been deliberate. "Do you want to walk down the block with me? Just to that tree there." He nodded at the next yard over.

"Sure." She looked at the stairs, slick with wet leaves.

He offered her his elbow. "Would you like a hand?"

She smiled. "Yes, thank you."

Under the tree, he asked, "I'm sorry to be dense, but this is a bit, um, fast. Could I ask you to spell it out a little for me?"

She literally squirmed in discomfort. Well, he wasn't the one walking up to strangers and talking about their sex lives. Then she said, "You're more assertive than I expected."

He chuckled. "I get that a lot."

"But I get it. You probably don't talk about this stuff with just anybody." She took a deep breath. "Carlotta said you were into shoes," she said again, staring downward. "She said you did stuff with her shoes." She glanced around and lowered her voice. "Like...sexy...stuff." Another deep breath. "She made it sound really, um, hot." The last word was so quiet he could barely hear it.

She glanced up at him through her lashes. Then she flashed him a smile that disappeared as quickly as it appeared, moving onto more familiar territory. "So. What do you say, big boy? My place or yours?" She smirked, this time clearly aware how ridiculous she sounded.

He shook his head, smiling despite himself. "You've heard a lot of pick-up lines, haven't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "You have no idea."

He looked at her, torn. It was a bizarre offer. He wasn't even into one night stands. But Carlotta had good taste in friends. Plus, he remembered how terrified he'd been the first time he'd brought this up with her, even after months together. Lily deserved something for how she'd put herself out there tonight.

Not to mention, he'd wonder what if? for the rest of his life.

Mind made up, he said, "I have a room-mate and I don't know when he'll be home."

"I have a room-mate too, but I know she won't be home tonight."

"Do you have a purse or something you want to get before we go?"

She grinned, a moment of unrestrained joy. "Pockets." She stuck her hands into them, spreading her fingers to show how big they were.

"Of course!" He gestured down the street. "Lead on, then."

She pointed the other way.

"Right."

They caught the bus. "I'm in the Loop," she said. Almost apologetically, she added, "It makes my commute easier."

"Nice. Where's work for you?"

"Oh, all over, I guess." She didn't elaborate.

Lily was quiet on the bus, prone to trailing off mid-sentence and staring out the window. He gave up after a few tries and left her to her own thoughts. Maybe he should have invited her to his place? Too late now. Or was it?

He stopped her outside the train station. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. Or I could text my room-mate and we could go back to my place."

She burst into a startled laugh. "No. That's very thoughtful, but, no. Carlotta doesn't date creeps."

But maybe the offer had reassured her. She took his hand and led him to her building.

There was a doorman. An unflappable professional, he didn't bat an eye to see his lobby graced by a devil scantily clad in latex and leather, and a pudgy Chinese man shrink-wrapped in garish lycra. "How are you tonight, Miss Ouyang?" he asked.

"Fine, Jason, and yourself?"

"Very well. Have a good night!"

In the elevator, Lily explained, "It's nice to have someone who can sign for packages."

"Makes sense." Benjamin had never met anyone doing so well for herself and feeling so bad about it. There was a story here, but even he wasn't oblivious enough to think she wanted to talk about it.

He followed her to her door. She fumbled with the keys for ages before managing to unlock the door. Inside, they looked at each other awkwardly.

Oh, right. He was supposed to be the experienced one. He cleared his throat. "May I have a glass of water?"

She flushed. "Yes, of course. Sorry, where are my manners? Do you want tea? I have black, chamomile, or peppermint. Or coffee?"

"Peppermint tea would be lovely."

"Sure." She kicked her shoes off and started down the hall, then froze. "Oh."

"Shoes off?" He slipped his own off.

"I didn't think this through," she said apologetically.

"Why don't we sit and have some tea and talk first?" he suggested.

"Okay."

"May I use your bathroom?"

"Over there."

She was waiting on the couch with a pot of tea by the time he came out. "It needs a few more minutes."

She was too nervous for small talk and he was no good at that stuff anyway. He cut straight to the chase. "I have to say, Lily, that was a brave thing you did tonight. It took me months to open up to Carlotta about this, and that was after I had a pretty good idea she'd be a good sport about it."

She relaxed visibly. "I wasn't going into it entirely cold either. But, yes, I was nervous."

"I feel like you want me to take the lead here, but I'm not sure if that's just because you've never done this before or because you like your men to take charge."

She shrugged. "Yeah, they usually do."

Ah. "That's not quite the same question. Would you like to tell me what to do?" How much had Carlotta told her about the sort of things they had done?

Something lit up in her eyes. But she looked down and said, "I wouldn't know what to say."

"You say what you want me to do. It's not like there are magic words."

"What if it's not what you want to do?"

"Then I tell you that and we talk about it."

She looked at him in surprise. "Simple as that."

"Simple as that."

She still hesitated.

Gently, he asked, "Would you like me to take my clothes off?"

She smiled. "Sure."

"Why don't you say that?"

"Want to take your clothes off?"

He stood and unzipped the jersey, set it aside.

"Could you..." She twirled a finger.

He turned slowly.

She made a show of licking her lips. "Carlotta said the shorts made your butt look good. She was right. Sorry, you can go ahead now."

"You can tell me to turn around again if you want."

"Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

She thought about that. "I'm all right. Take your shorts off."

No could you this time, he noticed. Score one for the domme-dar. "Yes, ma'am," he said, curious how she'd react to that.

She looked startled. But she smiled.

He slipped out of his bib shorts, then his socks too. "May I sit down again?"

She gave him an odd look. "As opposed to?"

"I could stand. Or kneel."

She inhaled sharply, her eyes wide.

"I'm not sure how much Carlotta told you."

She didn't answer. Instead, she said, "Why don't you sit...on the floor?"

"Yes, ma'am." He wedged himself into the gap between the chair and the coffee table.

"Hmm." She looked around. "Would you mind helping me move the table out of the way? We can put it against the wall there."

He hefted the table. "I don't think I need any help with that." He put it aside and returned to the now empty space in front of her.

She swallowed and bit her lip.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

She tittered, holding one hand up to her mouth. "It's a bit of a power trip," she admitted.

"Good. It doesn't have to be. Some people are just into the shoes. But this can be a kind of game too."

"A game. That's an interesting way to put it." She nodded thoughtfully. "Should I take off my clothes now too?"

"Don't worry so much about should. Do you want to take your clothes off?"

"I might get chilly if we're going to be sitting around."

He waited.

"Maybe later," she decided. "Would you like me to go get my shoes now?"

"I'd love that, but first I should mention that there are some things I won't do with shoes you've worn outside."

Several emotions chased each other across her face in rapid succession: surprise, shame, excitement. "Of course! You could get sick. I don't know why I didn't think of that."

"It's not a problem. There's lots we can do with them."

"No, that won't be necessary." She strode off, then came back with a shoe box. "These are new."

"You had a pair of new shoes lying around?" To be fair, Carlotta had ended up with a few pairs she didn't wear out. But he had bought them for her.

"They're too high for me," she explained. "I wore them around the house a while trying to break them in but I'll probably never wear them for a night out. I never got around to returning them." She opened the box to show him the signature red sole.

Benjamin couldn't stop his eyebrows from rising. Those shoes could buy him a month's worth of groceries. She'd never gotten around to returning them?

She started to take one out. He nearly lunged for it, then stopped himself. She looked at him curiously. Then her eyes fell to his lap. She giggled. In quite a different voice, she said, "So. Shoe fetish, huh?"

He smiled ruefully, embarrassed despite himself. He wasn't fully erect yet, but his cock had definitely noticed the shoes.

She let the shoe dangle from one finger, waving it in front of him like the cape before the bull. "You like my shoe, Benjamin?"

"I like your shoe."

She frowned, mock stern. "A girl could take offense, you know." She waved up and down the length of her body, not so subtly arching her back to lift those fantastic breasts even further. "What am I, chopped liver?"

He winced. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I'm teasing. So I take it you want me to put them on?"

"Well..."

"Tell me," she demanded.

"May I put them on for you?"

She blinked, then smiled. "Okay." She put the shoe back into the box and held the box out to him.

It was the first time he'd handled a pair, and it would very likely be the last. He savored the moment, turning the shoe this way and that in his hands, watching the light play off the gleaming leather.

Suddenly remembering her, he glanced up guiltily.

She was sitting on the very edge of the couch, mouth half-open. Her tiny pink tongue flashed out and licked her lips hungrily. "Yes?"

"May I, uh, kiss your foot?"

She sucked in a breath. "Yes," she hissed. "Do it."

He leaned forward, putting both hands on the floor, and kissed the top of her foot.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "Seriously?" Then, "Do it again!"

He obeyed, then looked up at her, waiting.

Her mouth formed a perfect O, the crimson lipstick stark against her porcelain skin. "You'd do it again if I asked you to, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," he said simply.

She swallowed. "I think I want you to show me what happens next."

He stroked the back of her ankle. She lifted her foot and he slipped the shoe on. Then he placed a single reverent kiss on the pointed toe.

She crossed her legs and looked from the shoe to his face. Slowly, she circled her foot in the air, watching his eyes follow. The silence stretched between them. She was the one to break it.

"Promise you'll tell me if I'm out of line?"

He smiled reassuringly. "Of course. And I won't hold it against you, either."

She nodded. Then she raised her foot between them and said, "I want you to kiss my shoe again, and this time I want you to look at me while you do it. I want to see your face when you put your lips to my foot."

Locking eyes with her, he leaned forward and kissed the toe.

She angled her foot, presenting the side of the shoe in unspoken command.

He kissed it.

She gave him the other side.

He kissed.

She stared at him, motionless. He waited.

Slowly, she flexed her ankle.

He kissed the sole of her shoe.

She stared, rapt.

Encouraged, he opened his mouth and licked the sole of her shoe from the ball of her foot to the very toe.

She blew out a loud breath, dropping her foot to the floor. "I hope this isn't too much information but I'm actually starting to get wet."

He sat back on his haunches, letting his erection jut forward. He looked meaningfully downward, then met her gaze again, smirking. "The feeling is quite mutual."

She laughed. "Well, okay, let me help you with that."

He shook his head. "Is that what you want to do?"

She hesitated.

"Come on, Lily. Don't tell me you've never gotten a guy all hot and bothered and then let him stew a bit."

She smiled sheepishly, not denying it. "I want you to have a good time too."

"Did you know that Carlotta teased me for hours sometimes? She'd close all the curtains and then click around the apartment in lingerie and heels all night, dropping the most awful innuendo into every conversation, until I couldn't stand it any more."

"Carlotta can be a bitch sometimes."

"Carlotta was a massive bitch sometimes. And I loved it."

"Well, in that case." She uncrossed her legs, twitched one eyebrow, then re-crossed them the other way. "Did I make you look?"

"Yes. I didn't see anything, though. Damn that skirt."

"It has pockets!" She pointed her foot at him, an inch from his lips. "Apologize."

He crawled forward, ducking under her outstretched foot until he was right at her knee with her warm, nylon-encased calf on his bare shoulder. Speaking directly into her lap, he said, "I'm very sorry. You do an excellent job protecting your mistress's dignity. It was wrong of me to expect any less. I hope you can find it in your, uh, hem to forgive me." And then he kissed the skirt, pressing his lips firmly into her thigh through the fabric.

Her lips twitched, but she mostly kept her face stern. Resting her weight on his shoulder, she reached forward with her other foot, watching his smile fade to astonishment as she slid her foot up his thigh. He gasped softly and flinched away as she found her target.

She raised her eyebrow again. "You asked me what I wanted to do."

"Yeah?" His voice was a little ragged.

"I want to see what your face looks like as I touch you with my shoe."

"Yes, ma'am." He eased himself forward.

"Good boy," she purred, slowly scraping the toe of her shoe against his most tender flesh. "How does that feel?"

"Incredible, ma'am," he whispered. "How did you..."

She gave him a look. "How did I get the idea to touch your cock with the thing that makes it stand right up? I haven't the faintest clue. I must be some kind of savant."

He chuckled weakly. "Right, silly question."

"You'll tell me if it hurts?"

"If I do, will you stop?"

"Of course!" She frowned. Her foot stopped moving. "Wait. Should I not?"

"A little pain can be fun sometimes. When you were losing your teeth, did you ever poke at them?"

"Interesting. But you'll tell me if it hurts too much?"

"That I will."

She started toying with him again, watching him squirm and pant. She trapped his cock between the sole of her shoe and his thigh and pressed firmly. "I think I can feel your pulse through the sole of my shoe," she marveled. "Is that possible?"

"I have...no idea."

"I choose to believe that it is. That you're literally throbbing with delight right now."

"Sounds...about...right."

She pulled her foot back. He thrust his hips forward instinctively, desperate to regain that exquisite stimulation.

She flashed him a devilish grin. "Are you sorry you told me about Carlotta teasing you for hours?"

He shook his head, swallowing hard. "Not at all," he said fervently.

She pouted. "Maybe we'll get there later." She drew her bare foot off his shoulder and used it to nudge him backward. "You still have to put my other shoe on."

"Yes, ma'am."

He took his time, lavishing kisses on her foot while sneaking peeks up at her to gauge her reaction. She remained perched on the edge of the couch, gripping the cushions beside her with white-knuckled hands. Her eyes were huge with excitement.

Holding her gaze, he licked the length of her shoe, from the very toe to the cup of the heel. She squeezed her thighs together and swallowed hard. He smiled in triumph.

He licked the other side, and was rewarded with another clench of her legs.

He opened his mouth and swallowed the entire toe, feeling the pointy tip scrape the roof of his mouth. Her breasts were heaving now, every muscle in her body tense.

Slowly, he drew her foot out of his mouth. It made an audible popping noise. She flinched.

He looked at her expectantly. The longing in her eyes was clear but he wanted to hear her say it.

She obliged. "Could you...do that again?"

"Do what again?" he asked, knowing full well.

"Put my foot into your mouth again," she ordered, and moaned when he obeyed. She moved her foot experimentally, feeling the resistance as his head was forced to follow. "Oh my god," she whispered.

He let her foot slip out. Working a bit of saliva back into his mouth, he said, "Wait until you see this." He tipped his head to the side and guided the heel of her shoe into his mouth.

"Oh my god," she repeated. "Oh my fucking god. You're giving my shoe a blow job." Gently, she worked her heel in and out of his mouth, watching his lips slide up and down the sleek patent leather spike.

He smiled up at her. "Is this good for you too?"

She half panted, half laughed, breathless. "Are you fishing for a compliment? Yes, Benjamin. Yes. This is good for me too. And you haven't even touched me yet!" she marveled.

Taking the hint, he started kissing again, starting on the shoe but then progressing onto her foot, her ankle, her shin. He skimmed his fingers up her calf and stroked the sensitive hollow behind her knee. Looking up for permission, he nudged her knees apart.

As soon as she uncrossed her legs, her scent rolled out, rich and musky.