The Boots

Notes: This story is for foot worshippers and boot lovers. Specifically for admirers of women wearing shiny Hunter wellington boots and people who love to wear them too.

*****

She strode down the busy streets, head under her large umbrella. The pedestrians she passed on the pavement, and the drivers in their cars, all had the same reaction. Eyes were drawn to the extreme of colour in the corner of their vision. They turned to her, and their gazes immediately flicked down to her feet. Down to her shiny, red Hunter wellies, the high gloss of the pillar-box red rubber made even shinier by the rain. In the dullness of the day, the colour was like a splash of fresh paint on a dun-coloured canvas. Drops of water beaded and rolled slowly off the meaty curves of the boot, keeping the wearer safely encased in her rubber shell.

The shoe shop door chimed as she entered it. The store assistant turned in surprise to see a customer entering so late. He was just about to close up shop for the day. He greeted her. She nodded and proceeded to scan the shelves. She walked to the back of the shop and pointed to a pair of midnight blue gloss Hunter wellies.

"I'd like to try those on please. Size 4."

"Yes of course, Miss," replied the store assistant. He was surprised. Her wellies looked perfectly good, almost brand new. It wasn't often that people wanted to own more than one pair of welly boots, but he certainly wasn't one to turn down a potential sale. And they were rather beautiful boots. And maybe she was a... No, he shook his head. He must get that thought out of his head.

She sat down on the white leather banquette, her red boots setting off the white like two glacé cherries garnishing a dollop of cream. The sight sent a jolt of arousal to the man's groin. Her smooth calves curved out of the top of the boots, leaving a little gap that looked so inviting. He realised he was staring and she caught him out. Fixing him with her gaze, she silently pushed out one boot towards him, making it clear that he was to take it off. He unashamedly dropped to his knees and grasped the heel of the boot to pull it off. She slid her stockinged foot out and held out the other foot. As he obligingly took the second boot off, he could feel his heart rate quickening and a definite rush of blood to his crotch area.

Oh God. Not now. Don't let her see this, he pleaded to his treacherous body.

But she had seen it. She stretched out her foot, pointed her toes and gently traced a line down the bulge in his crotch. She knew! He flushed in mortification at his arousal but stayed still to accept the gentle brushes of her flexing toes against his hardening cock.

"When you get my pair, why don't you get the teal pair in your size and try them on for me too," she suggested, although it came over more like an order.

When he returned with two boxes from the stock room, he was stunned to see her hand up her skirt, gently playing with herself. She looked at him with heat in her eyes, pupils blown wide.

"Come here and put them on my feet."

He knelt down again and took the dark blue boots out of the box. She lifted one leg, which confirmed to him her lack of undergarments. Breathing heavily, he watched as she pointed her toes and slowly slid her foot into the boot. As she pushed her foot and leg in, like a sword sliding into its sheath, all the way home to the hilt, she gave a little satisfied sigh. By the time she had repeated the action with her other foot, he was fully aroused and no longer cared.

"Put on your boots and lie down on the floor," she instructed.

He hurriedly pulled on the glossy teal boots and lay down by her feet. She then placed both feet on his prostrate body, whilst she stroked herself and moaned softly. He breathed in deeply, the mix of her scent and the rubber, both so close to his face, and closed his hands over her boots. He couldn't believe this was happening. Right there, in the middle of the shop, when anyone could look in from the street and see a welly-booted woman masturbating over him. He curled his toes inside his boots at that humiliating thought.

She then moved off the banquette and pushed his knees up so his feet were flat on the floor and sat astride his rubber-clad feet, rubbing herself up against the boots, sighing deeply as she rocked. He could feel the heat of her sex on his feet and ankles, pressing through the thick rubber. When she climaxed, she gripped the back of his calves and threw her head back, thrusting her crotch hard into his ankle. After recovering for a moment, she stood back and said, "Look. Those are my juices all over your boots. I want you to lick them up. Lick the boots until they shine again." He took off his boots and licked, whilst she freed his rock-hard cock to start playing with it. He closed his eyes. Lick, lick, pump, pump. He could feel his orgasm building.

"I want you to come on my boots, these blue ones. Come on them now," she said, placing her foot on his stomach. He ejaculated all over her boot in white ribbons. She took it off and sucked and licked it off. There was plenty to go round so he licked some of it off too. They sat on the shop floor in silence, licking the boots like kittens with their cream.

Then she stood up and put her red wellies back on. She picked up the blue pair and the teal pair, now clean and freshly shined with their tongues, and placed them on the display shelf with the other Hunter wellies. She left the store, with the chime of the door ringing in his ears for some time after.