Vanilla Cream Ch. 02

Vanilla Cream 2 : Pumps to Humps - part 1

There's nothing like a big car. Roomy, sturdy, safe, and lots of power. I've always wanted a Cadillac, so when I started making some substantial cash by selling off my comic book and magazine collection, and by selling a few stories to publishers, I decided to treat myself. I spoiled myself rotten with a gorgeous black Caddy DeVille...a 4.6 Liter, 275 HP, V-8 monster of a machine that would leave all the young studs in their hot cars floundering in my dust. Ah, pampering oneself can be so decadently satisfying.

I bought my "Betsy" about a month after my first meeting with the delectable Cinda. I toyed with the idea of naming my new baby "Cinda" in honor of the hottest woman I'd ever known, because it purred like her, it was powerful and sexy like her, and especially because the idea of spending hours every day inside her made me smile and sweat. But somehow, I didn't think Cinda would appreciate being associated with a big, black, shiny gas-gulping automobile. So..."Betsy" it was...in honor of the sexy Bettie Page, the 50's hottest glamour girl, bar none.

But the day I picked up my shiny new toy, though a joyous one indeed, paled in comparison to another incredible day not more than a week later. I had gone to the Winding Hills Mall early that morning, hoping to get there as soon as the shops opened. It was a Monday morning, and I knew if I could get there early enough I could beat what few shoppers might be wandering about that early on the first day of the work week. At least I hoped so. And by doing so, I could pick up what I wanted to buy and escape before the hard core shoppers arrived with their furrowed brows and glistening fangs. Can you tell I'm not one for shopping?

But this particular item I just HAD to get. It was a gift for the lovely Cinda. Having known her for just over five weeks, I had gotten to know her tastes and preferences, especially in the line of clothing. And more specifically still...her taste in footwear. She's a shoe hound, all right. In fact, I've often told her that she's a cross between two of the characters on the HBO show, Sex and the City...the sultry, lusty Samantha and Carrie, the undisputed queen of sexy footwear. And THAT, my friends, is one helluva combination.

So, riding in my new baby, I got to the mall not five minutes after it opened. I made a beeline for my destination, ran inside the store, found what I was looking for - with the help of the half asleep sales person - and made good my getaway just as the first zombielike shoppers stumbled in. I was so happy with my coup that I just about chortled with demented glee. My gift for Cinda I placed on the floor just behind the passenger side front seat. As an afterthought, I wrapped it in my light spring jacket that I found on the back seat, I suppose to protect it from any possible damage...even though it wasn't the type of item that would break, and my "Betsy" drove smooth as silk at even the most hair-raising speeds. I slid myself into the Caddy's sleek interior and drove off....safe and unscathed. I was beside myself. I couldn't wait for Cinda to see what I'd gotten her. Knowing her as I do, I just knew the gift would make her eyes sparkle with delight. And I live for that sparkle.

I hadn't driven along I-77 for more than twenty minutes when my cell phone rang. Just hearing Cinda's voice made me start to sweat. I pulled over to the shoulder of the highway...not only to be responsible and not drive while on the phone, but also because I knew that if Cinda started flirting or talking sexy, I'd more than likely lose control and drive through several guardrails, over hill and dale, and into one of the many small ponds dotting the area. And I just couldn't do that to "Betsy".

As I sat and talked to the sexiest woman on the planet, I hoped that the local law enforcement boys weren't around to see me pulled over. When you talk to Cinda - in any way, shape or form - you do NOT want to be interrupted.

"Hi, Mikey...how's my favorite smut writer today?" came the voice that swelled my loins.

"Mmmmm....hot for you, as always, sexy Cinda," I replied, feeling an itch between my legs.

"Well, then," her voice got that sultry tone, "how would you like to help me with something today?"

"Anytime, you know that," I replied, squirming in my seat. I know what I WANTED to help her with. I grinned at the thought.

"Wonderful...then how about helping me shop for some sexy shoes?"

Shopping? Oh, no....why that? I'd just escaped the mall. I considered myself fortunate to still be alive. I just wanted to cruise around in my shiny black engine and feel the wind in my hair. "Uh...well....Cinda, honey, I'd love to, but you know I wouldn't be much help. You could probably shoe shop much faster without me."

"Oh, yes, true, Mikey. It would be much faster, no doubt, but not nearly as much fun." I could feel her sultry, mischievous wink right through the phone.

Now, I know what Cinda means by "fun"...and it made me squirm again. My hand shook as I tried to steady the phone to my ear. It's not easy to hold a cell phone when you're shaking and sweating like I was. "Um...fun?" I asked, the rest of my body beginning to form sweat droplets right along with my hand.

"Of course, Smutty. You know how much fun I can make even the simplest of things. I've missed you, honey, and I want to play with you." The word "play" coming from Cinda's lips made my organ twitch and take notice.

"Oh," I said, thinking I might get to recover my senses, "I thought you said you wanted me to help you shop for shoes."

"I did, hon. Trust me, I can make shoe shopping fun. Don't I make EVERYTHING fun?"

Readjusting the crotch of my pants to give my growing member more room, I said, "Yes, you sure do, Cinda. I'll give you that."

"Well, then," she cooed, "come meet me at the shoe store and help me buy shoes. I know you men hate to shop, but....Mikey.....?"

"Yes?" I sighed.

"I'll make it worth your while. You know I will."

My mouth went dry. My drooling brain was immediately happy that it had made the decision to pull over when it had...or "Betsy" and myself would now more than likely be wading fender deep in a lovely, picturesque pond.

"I'm convinced," I sighed again. "Where are you headed? What shoe store?"

"Well, I'm already there, actually. Broughton's...the big shoe store at Winding Hills. It's kind of my House of Worship," she giggled. "All I need is my smutty Mikey to come help me try on some slinky shoes."

I laughed. Winding Hills. Guess I hadn't escaped it, after all. Oh, well, being with Cinda was worth risking life and limb amid pushing and shoving shoppers. I looked at my watch. It was still early. Maybe, if I was lucky, we could shoe shop quick and I could still escape the denizens of Winding Hills. And then...."fun" time with Cinda. Yum. I was sold. I would brave it. I would risk my life for Cinda's pretty feet...and any other part of her I could get my greedy hands on.

"All right," I laughed, "I'll meet you in front of Broughton's. Give me about twenty minutes or so."

"You're a dear, Mikey," she said, and each word seemed to lick my ear long and slow. "Oh, and Mikey?"

"Yes, sexy?"

"I'm wearing a really skimpy cream colored halter top, and light brown stretch pants that have a very faint tiger stripe design on them. You should see how the top shows off my nipples. They just poke right out at you. And the pants...well, let's just say that I looked at my fanny in the mirror before I left the house...and they're so tight that if you look quick you could swear my ass was naked. If I bent over I'll bet your eyes could follow my crack right to the promised land." She laughed, knowing what that would do to me. She added almost flippantly, "I'm not wearing panties, either, so you can imagine what OTHER things can be clearly seen through pants as tight as these." Another evil laugh. She knew she had me. The barbed hook was firmly latched onto my cheek, and all she had to do was reel me in. And for the record, I never resist when Cinda reels.

"Oh, Cinda...you are soooooo cruel." I had to adjust my position on the seat again before the escalating pain in my crotch subsided a bit.

"Oh," she laughed, as if not hearing me, "one more thing. I'm wearing strappy, backless, open-toed, high heel fuck me pumps that really show off my burgundy toes. You remember, don't you? The same burgundy color I had you paint on my toenails last week? You DO remember THAT night, don't you, sweetie?"

My rod immediately wanted out of my pants...and into Cinda. I could swear I heard my penis groaning. Grimacing with frustration, I replied that I indeed remember that more than memorable night. I could never forget it. Even insanity or dementia couldn't erase that much ecstasy from my brain cells. I smiled at those sweat-inducing memories, and the hardness between my legs was begging me to meet Cinda and make new memories.

"Mikey...you're so quiet. You okay?" I knew she was smirking, could feel it in every pore of my body. Oh, she was just having so much fun. But what could I do? This was Cinda. And the promise of being with her was worth any amount of teasing. Even my kneecaps were turned on. There wasn't a single part of me that wasn't leering with drooling lust and eager to head right back to the mall.

"I'm still here," I said, trying to remain coherent. "I was just remembering that night. I'll be right there, hon. Whatever you do....DON'T start without me."

"Never," she said, and blew a kiss through the phone.

I squealed Betsy's tires pulling back onto the highway. After driving for less than five minutes, I made an illegal U-turn and took I-77 right back to the mall. I was sweating profusely and my pants were tighter than I'd ever felt them before...but only in the crotch area. I had to think about advanced calculus and European history (neither of which I know much about, so I made stuff up that helped keep my mind off Cinda) in order to drive with any kind of skill and get the swelling between my legs to abate somewhat. I made it back to the mall in almost exactly twenty minutes.

Both heads were throbbing as I pulled into the Winding Hills Mall. Even with my hormones raging and trying to ban rational thought from my brain, I was still able to think almost normally. I drove around the mall to the East entrance - where the outside door to Broughton's is located - and parked way in the rear of the parking area....ever mindful of damage to "Betsy" from inconsiderate shoppers parking too close to her and dinging her pristine finish with their car doors or the packages they were carrying. Broughton's seemed to be light years away, but I got out of my baby and took the long trek with a bounce in my step. I might not enjoy shopping overmuch, but I knew damn well that shopping with Cinda would NOT be your ordinary day at the mall. Besides, the idea of watching Cinda try on shoes in tight pants and a halter top with her nipples winking at me and her behind ever so tempting to grope and fondle...well, there was no way I was going to miss that. Hell...for that, I'd come back from the grave!

About halfway to Broughton's, I saw the Sexy One standing outside the store. I'd learned long ago that this was her favorite shoe store. All I've ever known about shoes was what I like to wear, and what I like to see women wear. Beyond that, nothing. But since I've known Cinda, I've come to know that Broughton's is by far her favorite shoe store. According to her, they have absolutely every style and brand name...which is why she spends a good portion of her time and income in this one place. She was exactly right to call it her House of Worship. Without a doubt, to her it was the altar of the mighty Goddess of Shoes, of whom she is a devout follower. As I approached her standing there, my eyes feasted on every inch of her. God, what a sight.

Finally reaching the entrance to Broughton's, I saw her beaming face. But when I got up to her, she got a bemused look on her face. "Where did you park?" she asked, "Neptune?"

I laughed. "'Well, you know....new car and all. I'm still a little paranoid about dings and such."

"A little?" she sighed, shaking her head. "Ahhh...that's right...your new car. Your shiny black lover...'Betsy'. I'll bet you parked in the very last row of the parking lot, right? Hmm...should I be jealous?"

It was my turn to laugh. "Never, Cinda...NOTHING and NO ONE can top you in my heart...or other places."

She smiled broadly and crooked her arm through mine. "Well, then, now that that's settled, let's go inside. You have work to do."

As I held the door open for her to go through ahead of me, I asked, "Work? Hey, I thought I was just helping out here."

She stopped short, causing me to walk into her. She held her ground, grinning. "Oh, did I say that? Sweetie, I didn't mean to mislead you...well, not too much...but what I want you to do is help me try on shoes...LOTS of shoes. You're going to be quite the busy little smut-boy."

"Um...I thought I was just here to watch, maybe give opinions on how sexy certain shoes look on you."

"Oh, no, no, no, silly man. You're going to be right there helping me try on pair after pair of shoes." She came up close to me, backing me right up against the entranceway door. She unhooked her arm from mine and lifted both her arms up to encircle my neck. She nuzzled her face against mine, sighing softly. Kissing my face gently, she slowly lowered her hands until they had found my buttocks. Squeezing them, and kissing my lips lightly, she purred, "You're going to assist me in putting my sexy painted toes into and out of the hottest shoes ever, all morning. You're going to take part in it. And, of course, I will need to have your opinions on which ones you like best on me." When she saw my face flush, she renewed her digital assault on my ass and added, "And you do know that I'll be teasing you mercilessly the entire time. But...if my smutty Mikey is a good boy, and does all his sexy Cinda asks of him...well...Cinda will have such wonderful rewards for him. Hmmmm...would you like that, Mikey? Are you willing to help Cinda with her pretty feet and shoes if she gives you a nice...satisfying...reward?" After finishing that sentence, she shoved her tongue so far down my throat that I though I'd swallow it. That, plus her hips and groin rubbing firmly against mine...had my legs wobbly. Dumbly, I nodded. Sure of herself, she then whirled around and dragged me along behind her.

We marched to the center of the store, the single-minded Cinda stopping at what appeared to be some sort of shoe store "main intersection". From this "intersection" you had your choice of casual shoes to the left, sports wear straight ahead, or dress shoes to the right. Without hesitation, my grinning captor steered me to the right, pulling me along behind her like a child she refused to allow to dawdle. The further along this path we walked, the more expensive - and sexy - the footwear became. No wonder Cinda knew this section so well. It suited her to a tee.

Pointing to a row of seats, she smiled at me and said, "Sit. I'll be back in a second."

Cinda had a definite agenda. She saw a diminutive, bespectacled man milling about the rows and shelves of shoes and knew him at once. I guess I wasn't shocked when the man, apparently the manager, knew her by name. It was obvious that she was a steady customer there, because the little, dark suited man rushed over to her, taking her hand and fawning all over her. She smiled and flirted. She does that with everyone. And she's so damn good at it.

In his attempt to cajole Cinda into buying lots of expensive shoes, the little man puffed out his chest, flirted back to the best of his ability, and flattered her shamelessly. I heard him say something about being shorthanded due to a sick call, but that if he had to, he'd take care of her personally, see to her every need. Yeah...I bet he would. Funny...I'd seen him before, and he never made that offer to me. Cinda pleasantly waved him off, saying that she knew exactly what she wanted and could take care of herself this time. He was taken aback, but seemed a tiny bit relieved. Guess managers don't like to work too hard, even if it is to help a hottie like Cin. Personally, I thought he had to be gay not to want to help Cinda...under ANY circumstances...sick call or no sick call. At one point in the conversation, I heard Cinda call him Randy, and I could finally put a name with the face I'd seen earlier.

She handed him a piece of paper. It was a list of the shoes she wanted to try on. Her shoe size was at the top of the list, and below it were some dozen or so designer styles she wanted to see. She told the excited little man that if he could be a dear and get those shoes for her, she could do the rest by herself. In fact, she told him matter-of-factly...she PREFERRED it that way. He seemed unaffected by the edict, probably because with a sick call he actually had to do some of the menial work himself, so Cinda taking care of herself was a small favor from above.

While all of this was going on, Cinda's back was to me. I took the opportunity to gaze longingly at her bottom. She was absolutely correct about the effect the tight pants had on her succulent rump. Those pants gave the phrase "lift and separate" a whole new meaning. Her ass was incredible! If I squinted my eyes just a tiny bit so that the tiger stripe design disappeared, I could swear her backside was as bare and beautiful as I'd ever seen it. My penis swelled and hardened in a nanosecond. I couldn't wait for my "reward." Oh, yeah, Randy had to be gay, or insane, not to insist on helping her try on shoes. But, hey...his loss is my gain.

After maybe ten minutes or so (during which time my eyes never left Cinda's ass), ol' Randy returned from whatever black hole he'd disappeared into, with an armful of boxes. The stack was so high that he had to look around the side of it to see where he was walking. With a great release of air from his lungs, he deposited his cargo onto one of the many chairs littering this great shoe Heaven.

"There," he said, wiping his brow but trying to appear as if the effort had been nothing at all. "All the ones you asked for. I hope you'll find something to your liking."

"I'm sure I will," Cinda said, then waited for him to shuffle off. When he did, Cinda looked around. It was still early. Very few shoppers were in the store. She looked back at me. She nodded for me to come over to her. I did. When I got next to her, she said, "Follow me with those boxes, sweetie. There's a section of seats a little more out of the way where you can help me try on shoes without prying eyes around. Come on." She kissed me hard on the mouth, sucking on my lips. "It's time for you to help your sexy lady try on some sizzlin hot shoes."

I watched Cinda's incredible ass wiggle as she led me to another section of the store. My eyes bounced in their sockets in time to her sexy cheeks rising and falling as she sashayed along hypnotically. God, what a sight. I was so hard I would've been happy to toss aside the shoe boxes, drop to my knees and put my arms around Cinda's upper thighs, kissing her sweet bottom like a lovesick pup. Having tasted that tush before, I knew it would've been worth any embarrassment that would've entailed.

I was so busy fantasizing about my lips on those cheeks, that when Cinda stopped ahead of me, I once again blundered into her. I nearly lost the top two boxes as they slid to one side, but I managed to recover and hold them fast. My sexy lady knew in an instant what must've happened. She stood there, hands on hips, while I recaptured the boxes. "Oh, Mikey was naughty, wasn't he? He was staring at Cinda's fanny again, wasn't he? Naughty boy." She grinned and winked. Oh, how she loves to tease.