Mrs. Atkins' Shoe Closet

She grabbed the other sneaker, pushing it between them as his eyes widened. She smiled, lifted his meaty, long cock in one hand and stuffed it into the other sneaker, the tip snug in the hot, wet toe area, and then squeezed his balls into the heel, delighting in his pained wince which caused him to inhale sharply, ingesting more of that aromatic sneaker strapped around his face. Using both hands she tied the sneaker tightly, cinching his cock inside, scraping against the rough, moist fabric, his balls compressed and aching and full.

She pulled him tighter to her, arms long and lean and slightly sagging with elderly flesh, wrapping around his neck, her eyes locked to his, the parts visible on the sides of her stinky sneaker attached to his face. She smiled, wrapping her long, strong legs around his middle, squeezing his ribs in her thighs, locking her feet together, pulling him closer, and beginning a fuck motion, back and forth, squeezing and relaxing with her old, strong legs, the sole of her sneaker rough and hot against her wet cunt, pressing the clit, his cock thrusting inside.

"Fuck me, stud," she hissed, suddenly overcome by the urge to kiss and lick the bottom of the other sneaker at her face, smelling the dirty rubber, licking the nylon sides and lapping at his face which was streaked with his own cum, tasting it, savoring it. "Fuck my sneaker, CUM in my dirty, stinky sneaker!!!'

He groaned, unable to stop nor wanting to, much as he wanted it to last forever. With her scissoring thighs drawing him close and pushing him away and rocking him like a baby back and forth in their silken grip, he felt his balls erupt, the first jet of cum filling the toe of her sneaker, coating his pounded prick, and the rest of the load spiraling out directly from his soul. He screamed into the sneaker at his face, inhaling deeply the foul stench of it, fueling his orgasmic fire as he came and came and came, the flooded sneaker soaking his dick until it abated and he relaxed, panting, breathing nothing but old Mrs. Atkins foot stench. And she came as well, crushing his ribs painfully in her old thighs, soaking the sole of the sneaker between them with her womanly cream.

They sat, unmoving, for a long moment, until she sighed, unlocking her arms and legs and pushing away from him, leaving the comical sight of a 20-year-old man leaning, panting against her headboard, filthy old sneakers tied to his face and crotch. She laughed, untying both, tossing one aside and holding onto the one filled with cum, Bobby's cock hard between his legs still, soaked with cum. Impulsively, she bent to take it in her mouth, washing it clean, holding the sweet sperm in her mouth and then pulling Bobby's face to hers for a long, wet, obscene kiss, sharing his cum, stabbing his mouth with tongue until it worked into a foamy froth on their lips.

"My treat," she hissed, breaking the kiss and then tipping the sneaker to her mouth, a huge gob slithering out and filling her cheeks, and as she savored the flavor, swishing it around her mouth, forced the sneaker to Bobby's face, the hungry boy lapping inside to clean anything she'd missed.

She stood, pulling the boy to his feet, that forever stiff dick bobbing before him. She embraced him, shooting his cum into his mouth to share and they shot it back and forth, tongues flashing, until they both swallowed, his cock pinned against the warm distended flesh of her old belly. She broke the kiss, taking his hand, leading him to the closet, his eyes fixed on the wrinkled pads of her ass flesh jiggling before him and those long, tanned, commanding legs below, and down to the bulging tendons of her feet.

They stood surveying the abundant footwear of the closet, the warm air heavy with the stench of it all, a heady mix of sweat, leather and rubber. She looked around, then grabbed a pair of low workboots she wore while gardening, pulling them on her sexy old feet, smiling at Bobby.

"I need help organizing this closet," she said, pushing the boy to his knees, then putting one foot on the back of his head to force his face to her boots. "You up for the job?"

He groaned, holding onto her hard calves, licking those boots, smelling the scent wafting up from the gap between the worn leather and her slender ankles.

"Good," she cooed, fingering her hairy pussy as she watched her slave below, that stiff cock sticking straight out as he licked her boots. "I thought you would be..."