Fuc Me Shoes

She remembered their first meeting, the feel of his fingers playing on her knee, how his eyes seemed to burn into her, the sound of his voice, how she had wanted to open for him there and then (but it had been too public and too close to "home") and how she had smelt her own arousal all afternoon.

Now she was meeting him again. She had dressed in a similar way to the last time, a style he had said he liked. There was a small change but we will come to that later. She was in a smart suit with a very short skirt, a semi-transparent blouse, holdup stockings (her skirt was so tight that suspenders would not have worked!), a bra, no knickers, THOSE shoes and the necklace he had admired so much.

THOSE shoes were designer shoes, her little (expensive!) self-indulgence of her love of fetish shoes. While not full blown fetish shoes they did scream "fuck me." They were high gloss, high heel and high sex! The deep burgundy colour matched her small bag.

The necklace was so simple, but had acquired a power of its own after he had liked it so much. Essentially it was a wire necklace in the style of a snake. A single fine strand around her neck, with a fine tail piece and a diamond shaped head that created a loop by gripping just above the tail. She had bought it coz she thought it was sexy, but was it also a symbol of her temptation (like the serpent in the Garden of Eden)?

Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders and her lips and eyes glistened.

As she approached the rendezvous, she was nervous again. She hoped he was not late. She was confident he would be there, but she would feel vulnerable waiting on a dark street corner. He had told her he kept his word and that his role was to nurture and protect her, but still the doubts ran around in her head.

Well, he was there; tall, dark and quiet. He smiled as he saw her and when he bent to kiss her she offered her cheek as she had when they last parted, sort of a defensive move, trying not to show how she really wanted his intimate touch on her mind and body.

"Are you prepared?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"You know how to stop this if it is too much?"

Again she said, "Yes."

"So, let's go in."

He took her arm gently and guided her to a dark, almost hidden door. It opened as they approached; someone had been watching and expecting them. In a way this thrilled her, knowing he had prepared and was in control of her and the situation.

Inside her top coat was taken by a uniformed cloakroom girl, and he guided her through a door. She found a relatively typical bar area. It had a counter of polished marble, a few bar stools and some booths around the outside wall. It was neither seedy nor plush, just normal looking. There were a few people in booths, a couple of couples, and a group of men. Again they looked normal.

He looked at her and smiled. She smiled back and made a half start towards one of the booths, probably one in the corner until she got her bearings, but he shook his head and guided her to a bar stool.

Given that she was not overly tall, this was a big bar stool. She was not sure if she could get up on it let alone do that elegantly. He offered his hand and, putting one foot on the foot bar and her other hand on the seat, he lifted her up. As she adjusted position, her skirt rode up a little, and she went to pull it down. An almost imperceptible shake of his head made her stop. She knew that the band on her holdups was just showing, and she felt the slight warmth of embarrassment and arousal rise to her cheeks. She knew he liked her stockinged legs and now they were vulnerable to him.

He ordered her a sparkling water and him a whisky. He stood in front of her and started to chat; asking about her day; complimenting her on her clothes; normal sort of stuff except that his free hand was resting on her knee. Resting is maybe a little inaccurate. He was massaging her knee, and, as they talked, he slowly moved it up her leg. It was very unselfconscious on his part, but she felt every millimetre of the hand's progress. She was not sure how she managed to breathe and talk through this, but she did. Her heart was pounding. She felt that everyone was watching and once again she smelt her own arousal.

As his hand reached her skirt and started pushing it higher, she involuntarily opened her legs. When the skirt would go no higher, his hand slipped under it and continued up leaving her stocking top exposed. As his hand reached the top, it moved between her legs and she felt his hand meet her wetness.

All of this time their eyes were locked, his smiling, hers submissive. His large warm fingers slipped between her lips. She knew they were swollen, reddened, wet; his fingers slowly, gently invaded her, at first one, then two. She had always felt as if she were "tight" but tonight she took him with ease. As his fingers started to pump, probably only a centimetre or so but it felt like a full stroke piston, his thumb was brushing the top of her clit. Occasionally he touched the bar she had in her vertical hood piercing. She had told him that playing with this could be painful so at this stage he was cautious.

Her eyes were still locked on his as she felt her breath shorten. Normally she did not cum quickly, but the foreplay tonight had been just right! As she felt her climax building, he removed his fingers and brought them to his own mouth. They glistened with her juices and he licked them like a lollipop, long slow tongue strokes. She watched him and the sensations she felt at his obvious pleasure were as if he were licking her clit.

When his fingers were clean, he smiled, licked his lips, and plunged his fingers back into her, coating them again before bringing them up to her lips.

The smell was heady, and she felt her eyes closing.

"Look at me," he said quietly, but firmly and she did.

He rubbed his fingers over her lips and, as her tongue appeared to lick them, he pushed his fingers into her mouth. He kept them there as she licked them clean.

She heard him say, "You are beautiful," and for once she felt she could agree; she felt beautiful. His fingers left her mouth empty and open as he returned to finger fucking her. While his demeanor did not change, his eyes lit up as his pace increased. She felt his fingers going fully inside her and again she felt her orgasm building. On the one hand she was shocked that he would bring her to orgasm in a public place, but on the other hand she thought, "Oh yes!"

What sent her over the top was a realization that they now had an audience. Four or five people now stood close to them watching. She did not know when they arrived, but this was enough to send her into a powerful orgasm, her muscles clamping his fingers as their eyes remained locked together and her body shook.

As her orgasm passed, she leant forward and rested her forehead on his chest. Once again he licked his fingers and she heard his heart thumping. She knew he was getting to her! A voice said, "She is delightful, can we have some?"

She heard him say, "Of course," and she could not find it in herself to object.

His hands went down to her hips and lifted her. Not only did this lift her from the stool, but it pulled her skirt up. As he held her, he turned and placed her on the bar, bare arse to cool marble, her skirt now around her waist. He pulled two bar stools up, placing them either side of her before lifting her feet, one by one, to rest them on a stool each. Her knees were bent and she put her hands behind to steady herself.

The first man moved forward and knelt putting his face between her legs, his tongue licked at her clit and felt divine. As she threw her head back, she saw for the first time that the ceiling was mirrored! It was like looking at a porn movie.

She saw herself legs spread, 'fuck me' shoes sparkling in the light, and a man eating her out.

She was captivated.

As she watched herself, he moved forward and unbuttoned her blouse revealing the one change in her dress from their first meeting, a half cup bra! As he pulled her blouse apart, he also lifted her breasts from the cups, her hard nipples now pointing at themselves in the mirror. He leant to kiss and nibble each nipple in turn. Her eyes stayed wide open as she saw herself gasp.

The face between her legs was being a little rough around her piercing and she winced, trying to move away. As she wriggled she caught his stern look and just knew he wanted her to stay put and cope. She relaxed and found that the man had recognized her discomfort and adjusted his style; he now had his fingers inside her and he concentrated on her clit. He felt for that spot on her inner wall, and, as he stroked it, she found a second orgasm approaching. This time she just let go! She screamed as she came and collapsed back on the bar.

The face left her, and he stroked her face. He smiled and kissed her and said, "Why don't you show these nice people how you like it done?" With that he took her hand and placed in on her swollen, sensitive clit. She started stroking instinctively, watching herself in the mirrors and also seeing from a bird's eye view the rapture on the faces of her audience. One of the couples were stroking each other, but they were really just watching her show.

"Would this help?" he asked and pulled what looked like a cream cigar from his pocket. In fact it was one of those "personal massagers" advertised in downmarket papers where a beautiful girl tries to massage her aching shoulders with a battery driven "cigar." He switched it on and started to play it on her inner thighs. Her legs were so wide apart now and she wanted it inside her and on her clit. She took it from him and held it against her clit as she finger-fucked herself. Then she fucked herself with the vibrator as she wanked her clit. It wasn't long until another crushing orgasm hit her.

What followed she was not sure, and while she never saw a cock let alone felt one, everyone in the audience, male and female had a turn licking, sucking or fingering her or all three. She came and came and came until she was a helpless wreck, her stockinged legs had long ago sprawled over the stools, but somehow her shoes had stayed on.

When he decided it was over, he helped her sit up. He had watched over her every second and she had known he was there. He hugged her now, and she kissed him on the lips! This was significant; part of her opening to him.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He helped her down from the bar and held her as her weakened legs learnt to support her again. As she looked back, she saw that on the polished marble surface was a pool of her own juices. He dipped a finger in and offered it to her to lick. Yummy!

With a few friendly 'byes' and waves, he escorted her out to enjoy the rest of the evening.

She was beyond happy and she was his.

He too was happy with her progress so far.

(To be continued.....maybe *smile*.....let me know if you want me to!)