tagExhibitionist & VoyeurShoe Shopping with Rose

Shoe Shopping with Rose


I'll show you! A gray medium length skirt, thin over-the-knee black socks, kitten heels; and the icing on the cake: my peek-a-boo vest on top, the one that readily puffs out away from my body. That's it. You got that right, nothing else. And I was headed out shoe shopping. You said I should try it, so by gosh, I was finally going to do it and see what the fuss is all about.

My first stop was the shoe department at Macy's. Being a week day and earlier in the morning, it obviously wasn't a crowded affair; but it also limited my choice of assistants. I tried to angle over toward the boots and the younger gentleman, but instead a middle aged sales manager jumped in. Oh well, I guess he'd do for my first lesson.

I started easy. Even though I was gung-ho and doing this, it didn't mean I wasn't getting cold feet (no pun intended). I asked about some simple, slip-on type shoes - no snaps, no buckles, no straps - no need to keep him down there very long.

He quickly returned with my size suggestion; he didn't even bother measuring me. I'd already got my little kittens off by the time he got back, so I didn't even have to worry about bending over and flaunting anything before I was ready.

I never really saw him doing any looking, he just went to his work. I was almost disappointed: imagine that! Here I was commando in a dress and I got no response from the salesman. Which is what I thought I wanted, but now I felt let down. Weird, now it seemed like a challenge.

"I don't know, is there something that pinches here?" I leaned forward pointing to the side of the shoe while he was sitting back on his heels directly in front of me.

"Uh, oh! Uh, maybe, could you show me where again?" He did a quick little stutter.

I glanced up at him and his eyes had definitely caught up to the cool breeze I felt across my chest. My vest-top apparently was doing its thing in the most inappropriate of fashions. He tried to force himself to look at the shoe where I was again pointing and not at my completely exposed breast dangling free from the puffed out fabric.

"Maybe it's just that pair... I'll... I'll be right back with another one. Sit tight!" and he almost tripped over the stool on the floor turning quickly.

I guess I could see where this could be entertaining. And he certainly didn't seem to mind helping me. Didn't seem offended at all.

He'd returned faster than I thought possible. I let him try the new pair on me, I bent and slid my finger along side the shoe. "That's better, I don't feel anything poking me now. Thank you," and I walked a little in the new pair.

He managed to always position himself directly in front of me when I was getting up or sitting down. Not offended at all, I should say!

I played just a few more minutes with it, then figured I shouldn't push my luck: "Thank you so much for your time. I just need to think about it. I appreciate your help."

"My pleasure! And please, if you have more questions or want to try them on again just let me know. You can ask for me next time you're in," and he handed me a card. Cute! My own personal salesman.

I strolled languidly out of the store. I managed to not only survive, but even found it a little fun being naughty, especially with an appreciative audience. Onward and upward, I decided to push it up a notch. Nordstrom here I come.

A much larger department, the young buff assistant this time navigated to me much quicker than his counter part. "What can I help you with today?"

"I was trying to find a boot to go with this outfit. Do you have any suggestions?"

"We have an excellent selection this season. Let's get an idea about what type will fit you best. We'll start with a couple measurements. Please, have a seat."

I glided into the soft chair while he slid that special little squat stool directly in front of me. Already helping me out of my shoes, the warmth of his hands easily going through my thin socks.

"Please stand so we can get the most accurate measurement. Feet will do funny things when they start doing their job instead of just sitting lax." He offered a hand to help me up, then sat back on his stool, measuring each of my feet, not once, but twice - having my weight on it, then shifting my weight to the other side. "Very good, you've got pretty little feet for your height. Hard to find these days, but should give us lots of options in boots to choose from to keep you comfortable while being very fashionable."

I filled him in about my special needs toe, which he appreciated the heads up. He was certainly into knowing his feet, saying I'd "need a bigger box." (Turns out this isn't a come on line or self-promotion on his prowess, but a shoe term. Go figure!) Maybe he wouldn't even notice what I was about to do with him being that into his shoes.

I slid along the chair pushing slightly forward, putting my bottom closer to the edge and tilting my hips up slightly; my dress slid up to almost level with my knees. I couldn't believe I was going to go through with this. Maybe I should chicken out, maybe...

He was back and already sitting in front of me, talking about the boot. All I could hear was my heart pounding. He bent down to pick up my foot. I could feel his heat on my legs. He lifted my foot and the prickle of air along my thigh brought my nipples to full attention. He'd get a lot better show than the last one. Even my minor movements were dragging the vest across me, tightening me up harder. You could even see me through the thick vest material: no hiding their location now.

It was almost imperceptible, but I saw it when he noticed the skin at the top of my socks; a very slight eyebrow raising, "That's nice. These boots fit your shapely legs very nice. Let me get the other one on you and we'll see how it feels."

It wasn't supposed to be this... erotic. His warm hand cupping my calf, sliding my foot into the boot. He lifted this leg up a bit higher than the previous one and I felt myself come into view as he expertly angled my knee out just enough to open me up, cool air across my shaved pussy. "Very nice," his voice seemed to deepen, his hand brushing up along side my lower leg, pulling the boot zipper up. I couldn't help leaning forward to see his hand start to disappear below the hem of my dress until it mercifully hit the end of the zipper; if not, I would've been worried about leaving a wet spot on the seat.

He helped me up, but remained sitting this time as I walked up and down. I have to hand it to him, he did pick a really nice feeling pair of boots. My legs seemed to have melted into them, the leather warmed to body temperature and hugged the curves of my legs. Damn, I looked good.

I worked the boots over a little, walking, bending, squatting, feeling them conform to me like a second skin. I sat back down and reluctantly allowed him to remove them. I had been so taken with the feel of the boots, moving all around, squatting and such with testing, I had forgotten what I was and wasn't wearing. Couple that with my failure to sit very lady-like when getting back into the chair, I can't imagine what he thought of me.

Slipping the first boot off me, he softly put my foot on the floor, mentioning the next pair he'd be putting on me. His warm hand slid down my leg with the zipper, the last boot coming off me with a cool rush of air, he gently put my foot between his thighs while reaching for the next pair to try. No questions now what he thought of me, as the stud-o-meter had apparently hit full tilt.

I coyly wiggled my toys slightly and was greeted with a firm surge. Okay, I can see where a girl could find it fun to go shoe shopping commando. I'm pretty sure I'll have to try it again... soon.

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