It's Rude to Stare

He knew it was wrong, but he just couldn't help himself.

Sam was sitting in one of the many empty seats in the middle section of the evening train, his knapsack on the one beside him, and his attention only half on the book he was holding. The rest of it- most of it if he were being honest, was instead focused on the intermittent glances he made towards the seat at the far end of the car by the door.

Specifically, at the lady who was sitting there.

As of the most recent stop, they were the only two people left in this particular section of the train. In fact, given the late hour, they may be the only passengers left period. A couple of teenagers had gotten off three stops back, giggling drunkenly to themselves before stumbling off into the night, and an older man had vacated the car a few minutes ago, but the lady in the back remained.

She wasn't drop-dead gorgeous, but she was certainly on the attractive side of things. Short, strawberry-blonde hair cut an inch or two above her pale shoulders, a sensible red leather coat covering those same shoulders, and a pair of black leggings covering what looked even from a distance to be some rather shapely legs.

Yet lovely as all that was, it was all just window dressed compared to what had really caught his attention when she'd first stepped onto the train.

The pair of over-the-knee patent red leather heeled boots she was sporting.

When Sam's eyes had noticed those, the rest of the train might as well have ceased to exist. Beneath the glimmer of the dim lights of the car, he swore the boots were almost shining, a tempting beacon drawing his attention ever closer with every peak.

Sam tried not to be noticeable, peaking out of the corner of his eye or over the top of his book whenever it appeared that the woman was distracted with her phone or something else. But he wanted to steal as many glances as he could, never knowing when her stop would arrive and he would be without the sight of those beautiful boots.

For years, Sam had secretly ogled women in the street or on the bus or the train or online, his boot fetish in the driver's seat more often than not. But he had never gone further than looking. It seemed the safest course of action, and the easiest one to get away with. Most times, he would hide his glances beneath sunglasses, but given the time of day, wearing sunglasses at night was more than likely to make him appear suspicious, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Check that. The last thing he wanted was to be caught. But that had yet to happen, so he wasn't all that worried.

It had been several minutes since his last look, and with a sift breath, Sam lowered his book and peaked around the mess of empty seats between his and hers, only to find that this time, the object of his observation was no longer distracted. In fact, she appeared to be staring right at him, her bright red-painted lips- matching her coat and boots perfectly, pursed together in an amused smirk.

Sam's eyes widened, and he quickly pulled his book back up so as to pretend everything was fine. Maybe she would shake it off, assume he was just another random guy checking out a woman on the train and nothing more. She certainly couldn't know exactly what it was he'd been staring at, could she?

Slowly, he looked back over the top of his book and noted she was still looking his way, that smirk plastered all over her face. When she was certain she had his attention once more, she silently beckoned him with a red-painted, well-manicured fingernail.

Unsure of what to do, Sam gulped, slipped his book into his bag, and stood up, He hoped that all he'd need to do was apologize for leering, and then get on with his night. Slowly, he crossed the threshold of the empty train car, feeling like a death row inmate as he approached the back of the car, where he took the seat right across from hers.

"See something you like? She asked teasingly, and Sam nearly choked. That wasn't what he'd expected to hear at all, but before he could as much as muster a response, the woman looked him dead in the eye with a serious expression on her face. "It's rude to stare you know."

Sam nodded sheepishly. "I'm sorry. It's just-"

The woman interrupted. "It's just you like my boots, don't you?"

His face turned as red as her boots, and Sam looked away in shame and shock. It seemed his luck had finally run out, and all his attempts at subterfuge had been all for not, seeing as she'd managed to peg him so quickly. "Yes," he answered without looking back, embarrassed and unsure of what the woman would do with this knowledge, but knowing that lying wasn't in the cards.

"I thought so," she said, her tone not unlike a teacher who has caught a student cheating. "I noticed you staring at them from the moment I got on."

"Sorry," Sam replied once again, finally turning his attention back to the woman, only to find that she was now sporting a rather warm smile.

"Now now, it's alright," the woman reassured, uncrossing and crossing her legs so as to allow Sam quick glances of both her boots. "You're far from the first man to check out my boots, and I highly doubt you'll be the last. So tell me, what do you like about them?"

The woman carefully raised her right leg so that her boot was only inches from Sam's crotch, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. He had never expected to be in such a position as this one, with a lovely woman's leather boot so close to him. He could barely process what was happening to him.

"I love the look," he finally managed to sputter out, his eyes firmly locked on the red leather boot nestled between his legs. "I love the feel, the smell, the taste of leather, especially when it's on a woman's foot."

It was all the honest-to-God truth- Sam had been fascinated with leather boots ever since he was a child, and a family friend had come to visit over the holidays, wearing a pair of black knee-high boots that captured both his imagination and his attention. When no one had been watching, young Sam had examined the boots, touching, smelling, and- much to his embarrassment in retrospect, tasting them with the tip of his tongue.

At the time, he'd been far too young to truly understand the thoughts that raced through his mind, but as he grew up- and thanks to the wonders of the internet, he learned a fair amount. Sam discovered the word 'fetish' and realized that he had a rather large one for women's leather boots.

And he had just admitted such a thing to a complete stranger on the evening train.

Looking up at the woman, Sam expected to see something possibly bordering on disgust, but her warm smile hadn't wavered in the slightest. In fact, she seemed rather pleased with his sudden admission. "I expected as much," she said as she rubbed her boot along his pant leg, sending shocks throughout his body. "I adore them for the same reasons. But I also love it when a man is willing to submit to them for me."

Staring Sam right in the eye, the woman's smile turned momentarily devilish, and she poked the toe of her boot right into his cock. "Will you submit to them for me, sweetie?"

Sam's jaw dropped, and the wheels in his mind began to spin around feverishly. This was almost surreal, he could barely get a handle on what was happening. For a second or two, he swore that he'd fallen asleep in his seat and this was all some kind of wet dream.

Yet he could feel the seat beneath his bottom, as well as the toe of the woman's boot poking his growing erection.

This was real. And he didn't have the slightest idea how to proceed. So we went with the first thing that managed to reach his mouth.

"Yes, Mistress."

He had no idea why he'd said that, why he had referred to this complete and total stranger by that particular title, but somehow, it felt right. Maybe all that time spent on various fetish sites- as well as fantasizing about countless women he had seen sporting boots over the years had affected him more than he'd ever admitted.

Whatever the reason, he'd said it, and based on the woman's grin, it was the correct answer. "Good boy," she giggled, moving her boot up so that the sole was pressed against Sam's erection and began gently pressing it like a gas pedal. Sam groaned in response, but she wasn't finished. Slowly, she raised her left boot so that it was directly in front of his face and, with a grin, gave the order Sam hadn't realized he'd been waiting to hear ever since she'd entered the train car.

"Lick."

Almost of its own volition, Sam's tongue slipped out and began making its way across the top of the woman's left boot. He held it gently by the calves, loving the feeling of the smooth leather in his fingers, and tasted the wonderful flavor of the well-worn boot. He slowly moved from the toe to the tongue, leaving a trail of saliva from one part to the other.

As he did so, the woman's right boot pressed softly against his cock, rubbing it and poking at it with her heel. Sam could feel the cool leather through his pants, and the sensation of it against his erection was incredible.

The train slowed down as they approached the next station, and for a moment, Sam stopped his licking. The possibility that someone would enter the car and see him in such a precarious position terrified him, but the woman seemed to catch on and, rather than stop, pushed her boots closer to his crotch and mouth. "Keep licking sweetie."

Much to his chagrin, Sam did as ordered, but his eyes darted to the door behind the woman's seat, listening intently as the one that led outside opened and shut. No footsteps followed it, nor did he hear the sound of anyone coming in, but still he worried. Only when the train began to move again did he return to his task with the same enthusiasm.

As the woman's boot continued to tease his cock, she added further fuel to the fire. "These are my favorite pair. Red is such a sexy color, though black is a close second. I have at least a dozen pairs in each color." Sam moaned at the thought of so many beautiful boots, but the woman wasn't finished. "I have knee-high, over-the-knee like these, ankle. I even have a pair or two of thigh-highs for... special occasions."

The thought of so many lovely boots made Sam shiver, and as his tongue completed its journey along from the shaft of the boot down to the heel, his mind was simply awash with the imagery. He wanted to see all those boots on this woman, wanted to smell and kiss and feel and lick them all.

Alas, before he could fully immerse himself in such a fantasy, he had another one that needed attention right here. The woman pulled her well-licked left boot out of his hands, then switched its position with its twin. Before Sam knew it, the right one was in his grasp, and the left was firmly lodged between his legs and pressed sole first against his ever-growing erection.

There was no need for a second order, Sam knew what was expected of him, and he dove into the left boot with the same vigor as he had the right. He didn't even notice the train slow and stop at the next station, didn't care that someone might come in and catch him in the act. He was hardly aware that yet again it didn't happen, nothing mattered except for licking this woman's boot and giving in to the fetish he had kept under wraps for far too long.

All the while, the woman watched with glee as Sam licked and kissed her left boot. Suppressed a giggle as she felt his cock grow beneath the sole of her right one. Smiled widely as she noted the precum stain forming in his crotch. She truly did love it when a man submitted to her and her boots, and this one was doing to happily.

After a few minutes of work, she pulled the boot away, even though Sam had not managed to give it nearly as much attention and affection as its twin. He looked up at the woman with sad eyes, and she had to stop herself from bursting out laughing at the pathetic expression plastered all over his face. "Sorry sweetie, but my stop is coming up."

She gathered her things off the seat beside her, then leaned over so that her face was beside his and her red lips were next to his ear, so close he could smell her perfume and feel the warmth of her breath as she spoke. "I take this train every night. Maybe we'll cross paths again some time."

Then she pulled away and winked, and Sam was practically speechless. Only when she rose from her seat to leave did he manage to find some words. "Wait... What's your name?"

The woman smiled. "Kate. But you will always call me Mistress, understood?"

Sam nodded. "Yes, Mistress."

"Good boy," she said as she stared down at him. "And what about you sweetie?"

He gulped. "Sam."

"Well," Kate said as the train began to slow down its approach. "Until the next time Sam. Kiss my boots and thank them for the opportunity they gave you tonight."

Sam didn't need to be told twice. He practically dropped out of his seat and pressed his lips to the toes of Kate's boots, kissing both a half dozen times. "Thank you boots, for letting me submit to you and to Mistress Kate."

Kate let out a small laugh as she pulled the boots away and opened the door, turning around briefly to blow Sam a kiss before she and her beautiful boots exited the train car and the train. Sam saw her on the platform a moment later, where she smiled at him once more before going on her way, a veritable dream wrapped in red.

And as he sat there alone, the taste of the leather still fresh on his lips and tongue, Sam only had one thought in his boot-addled brain.

He would definitely be taking this train again very soon.