I Want Holly

Not long after graduating from college with my bachelors, I moved into a house with some of my frat brothers for about two years. I was lucky enough to find a great job that I knew from the start would lead to bigger things if I worked hard enough. The hours were limited, however, so I found myself with more free time on my hands than I wished for. For nearly a year I found myself either working hard or hardly working. That is, until we got a new neighbor that changed my life.

Her name was Holly and she was a single mother of a 7 year old boy. She and her son

moved in to small single story house right next to mine. I first got to meet them the day after and discovered that not only was Holly nice and charming, but easily the most beautiful woman I had ever met.

Holly was a short caucasian lady, only standing at about 5 feet tall, give or take an inch. Not only that, but she had a petite, fit figure that made her look tiny next to me at 6 feet tall and slightly muscular. She had her short blonde hair layered to salon perfection, hooded eyelids under her thin brows, and beautiful smile to cap it off. It was like she was out of some kind of magazine.

We immediately became friendly and got to know each other quickly. I soon learned that she had divorced her workaholic husband and was starting a new life with her only son Connor. The boy was shy around me at first, but soon began to like me and talk to me about all the things he liked to do.

"He usually doesn't warm up to people so quickly," Holly explained to me, apparently impressed.

After getting settled in her new home, Holly started working as a head nurse at a local clinic. She appeared to have no problem supporting her son, the house and herself with her income. From the get go I took every opportunity I could to talk with her. My roommates soon notice and began to tease me.

"Going for the MILFs are you Adam?" one had joked..

Personally, I never liked the word and felt it was very disrespectful. However, a part of me couldn't deny that I found Holly very attractive. She was 32 at the time and I was 23. I wondered how weird it would be to date someone that much older than myself, especially since it seemed the oldest one in a relationship was typically the man. Hell, even my own dad is three years older than my mom. The idea of dating Holly never left my mind, but I felt I could not begin to voice my thoughts.

Holly's job wasn't like mine. It required her to work six days a week for about 9 hours at the least. She told she felt like her ex-husband, spending too much time and work and not enough with her son. Since she was working after school hours were over, Holly hired a female sitter to watch over her son five days a week. The sitter, a 20 year old goth chick, hardly seemed like a good fit for Connor, but perhaps his mom did not have the time to look around for a better one.

Three weeks passed by and my normal routine hardly changed, other than when I had a chance to chat with Holly or hang out with Connor a bit.

"She doesn't want to ever play with me," Connor said concerning his sitter. "All she does is text on her phone, watches TV or listens to loud music."

In all honesty, I began to feel bad for the kid. Coming home to a girl that look liked Ozzy Osbourne nearly every day was hardly enjoyable.

Connor didn't have to suffer through that though for too long. The night after talking with Connor I saw two cop car in front of their house and automatically assumed the worse. I saw Holly talking with an officer, unhurt but flustered. As I approached her, she finished talking with the officer, who then reassured her of something and walked back to his parked car.

"What's going on?" I asked in a concerned voice, as I reached her.

Holly was on the verge of some kind of breakdown, but managed to get it out first. "I came home early from work and found the sitter shooting up in my bathroom." Her voice was shaky, but she continued. "I called the police, but she ran off. They are looking for her before she gets herself killed."

The young woman began to sob, and I immediately took her in my arms to calm her. She felt small in my arms, but it felt like she almost belonged there. Sobbing into my shoulder, she cried for about a minute or so. I just let her get it off her chest. The waterworks finally stopped and she thanked me for comforting her.

"I'm not sure what I'll do," she said with a worried tone. "I work tomorrow and I need someone to look after Connor."

Without a second to deliberate, I jumped on the wagon. "How about I watch him tomorrow? I'm off from work actually."

Right away, Holly's face turned from deep concern to a beaming smile. "Would you Adam?! Oh thank you thank you! That would be great!"

So I watched Connor the next day when he got off the school bus around 3:30 p.m. that day. He already knew that I was watching him, so he had spent his entire day planning our time together. We played catch in the backyard, I made him a bomb grilled cheese for dinner (about the only food I'm good at making), and we watched Cars on the big screen in the living room for the rest of his night. After a couple of protests begging for more time to play with me, I finally got him to bed and made him promise to go to sleep if I did this again soon.

When I felt sure that he was staying in his room, I returned to living room and turned on some TV, keeping the volume way down so I could keep an ear out for Connor. As an hour went by I didn't hear a peep from the little rascal. I went to his room to check on him and was pleased to seem him sound asleep. Again, I went back to living room and watched the beginning of Letterman. It was nothing but a crappy rerun, an episode I had already seen. I didn't change the channel, but rather went into deep thought about Holly. My feelings for her hadn't changed in the past few weeks, yet I felt like I could do nothing about them. I had admittedly tried masturbating to the thought of her, but it never could get the right image in my head. I would feel slightly guilty and stop or just pull up a quick porno to get my mind on something else.

And there I was, watching her kid in her own house, beginning to feel very bored. Just as I was about to fall victim to my boredom, I looked over at the front entrance to her house. There lay a red rug in the entryway and a closed closet next to it. The rug was for shoes, and currently only Connor and I had our shoes on it. In that closet, however, there had to be plenty of Holly's shoes. The thought began to interest me, and slowly I walked over to the closet to check it out for myself.

Since my early teenage years I've had a minor foot and shoe fetish. Getting through high school was only that much tougher in early fall/late spring when all the girls would wear cute open toed shoes and show off their feet in earnest. In recent years, my interest had somewhat abated. College was a whole new ball game for me, and I tried my hardest to keep my creepy desires in check. The girls that I had dated while studying at the university had terrible looking feet. I was never a fan of long, narrow feet with slight hammer toe like those girls. They didn't arouse me in that way in the slightest. Holly, however, unknowingly introduced me to those desires again.

Since I first began to see her, I took note of her shoes and feet. As a nurse, she was required to wear comfy white tennis shoes to work as part of their dress code. Many times I saw her was when she was heading off to work. Only on a two seperate occasions did I get a glimpse of her feet.

I had reached the closet door and quickly opened it, only to find myself frowning from the contents. A few light jackets were hung up neatly, a broom and dustpan in the corner, and a single pair of white Nike sneakers were all that were inside. I picked up the sneakers and gave them a few sniffs. To my disappointment, the shoes seemed to be brand new and smelled like a Walmart.

"Must be backup shoes or something," I thought to myself as I put the useless shoes down.

I had seen Holly wear other types of shoes before, so I knew they had to be somewhere. On those two occasions I had seen her wear a simple pair of black flats and than some high heels when she was going out with some coworkers. She had even joked that she loved high heels because it was the only way she felt tall. I began to wonder where Holly would keep all of her shoes and possibly her work socks as well.

It didn't take me long to consider checking the laundry room, and I went to the other side of the house to see. Again, I found myself disappointed as there was no laundry even in the room at the time. The only clothing was a rather skimpy black dress hanging up to dry. I began to picture Holly in it, complete with a nice pair of sexy stiletto heels.

The thought only made me want to look more for her shoes. I checked my watch for the time. 10:41 p.m. Holly promised to be home at the latest by 11:30 p.m. This gave me a limited window to look around the house. It then hit me, like running into a brick wall; her bedroom.

As I walked into Holly's bedroom only a minute later, the first thing I noticed was how large the bed was. It was a queen size bed that two people could easily share. Someone as small as Holly had more mattress than she could ever need. She probably never had to worry about finding a cool, comfy spot after a long day working. My eye quickly moved on and scaled the dark room, lit only by the moonlight from the nearby window to right of the bed. A dresser and large mirror on top stood on left in the room. Everything seemed tidy and neat. On top of that, the dominant color of the master bedroom was a light pink color. Not the "wow that's a lot of pink" pink, but a more neutral pink color that reflected a more mature taste. I finally spotted another closed closet beside the dresser.

"Bingo!" I thought to myself, and swiftly but quietly approached the closet.

The sliding door made hardly a sound and I pushed it open to reveal one side of the closet. Mostly casual outfits, a few hats and jeans galore. I closed that side and then went for the next side, for sure that her shoes awaited me there. Lo and behold, a rack of carefully place shoes was right there on the carpeted floor. An array of different kinds of shoes greeted my eyes; sneakers, flips flops, flats, a single pair converses, wedges and a several pairs of heels were stacked neatly by type. Holly's collection was small and simple, but she still seemed to have great taste in footwear.

Now another question began to form in my mind; which pair would be the smelliest? Odor was important to my fetish, hence my disinterest in the first pair of fresh shoes I had found in the front closet. I began by carefully picking out the blue converses out of the bottom half of the rack. The shoes looked worn in, but as I took a whiff I was not greeted by any discernible smell. It simply smelled like plain shoes. Disappointed again, I put them back in they way I found them.

I tried the flip flops next, although I felt I knew they too would be disappointing. Foot imprints were on most of them, but any smell flip flops get are usually gone in a few hours after they are taken off. The wedges were next on my menu. Holly seemed to only have two pairs right now; a white pair and a black pair both with the usual brown rubber heel. I inserted my eager nose into both and found only a slightly smell from the white pair. She must have wore it recently, but not for horribly long it seemed. The faint odor was a pleasant mixture of sweat, lotion and shoe sole. Still, it wasn't the stink I craved.

The flats seemed promising, so I tried the pair I'd seen her wear previously. They were simple black flats with a small bow on them. Despite my fetish, I've never bother with brand names and such. All I cared about was the smell, which the flat's mirrored the white wedge's. The three other pairs of flats smelled, funny enough, flat.

Two types of shoes remained; the heels and sneakers, which were the most likely to smell. Again, I went for a pair that I recognized. They were four inch heels with sexy straps across it. I tried sniffing down the sole of the heels. No distinct smell hit me. I didn't bother trying the other heels I saw.

It was my last chance. She had only two pairs of sneakers in the closet. One was a running pair and the other was another pair of white sneakers. Both looked promising, but I wasn't getting my hopes up. I tried the white shoes first with a long, hard sniff. I was finally greeted with a decent stench. Those shoes seemed to be a bit more sweaty, and the lotion I had sensed from the white wedges didn't hit me. My nose remained glue to the inside of the shoe for good two minutes before I decided to move on to the running shoes.

These shoes looked older, but taken well care of and possibly expensive on purchase. A good pair of running shoes that Holly obviously loved. They were Nikes again, black with the logo in red. Definitely quality shoes for someone that I had noticed go on regular runs since she moved here.

Thinking about this made my appetite grow, and I plunged my nose into the opening. What greeted me could be described as heaven on Earth for the common foot fetishist. Those shoes reeked of sweaty feet and dirty socks. I continued attacking the inside with sniff after sniff. I began to imagine the hot little size 5 peds that had previously occupied them. From my occasional glances, I noticed that Holly kept good care of her feet and seemed to favor black polish on her tiny toes.

As I continued smelling, I felt myself getting hard as a rock. I unzipped my pants and began to stroke my hard on with a free hand, while holding the shoes in the other hand. I began to stick my tongue inside and tasted the saltiness accumulated from all the sweat. My hand was going to town on my hard on, inspired by failed fantasies of Holly for the last few weeks. Though this was not Holly's own foot per say, it was a welcomed alternative.

Speaking of alternative, another one sprung in my head. A laundry basket stood next to the shoe rack. I put the shoes down and went through the dirty clothes in search of socks. They happened to be in on the top half and I delightfully began to smell them as well. The plain white socks smelled fresh as well, prompting me to jack off even faster. I soon began to fill my balls swell with cum. Panic came over me as I realized I had nowhere to cum. As swiftly as possible, I ran to the bedroom private bathroom and open the lid. I made it in the nick of time, and shot my load safely into the toilet bowl. My body started to relax. When I finished, I looked again at my watch. It was now 10:52 p.m.

"That didn't take me long," I thought. Despite still having enough time, I decided not to risk it any further. I flushed the toilet and then went back to the closet to put the socks and shoes back as I had found them.

About a half hour later, Holly pulled in the driveway. When got inside I was sitting comfortably on her couch with the TV on, acting like nothing had ever happened.

"How was he?" she asked, seemingly tired from her long work day.

"He was great, no problem whatsoever," I told her honestly. "He wants me to do it again sometime soon."

Holly seemed glad about the report, and gave me one of her pleasant smiles. "I'm so happy to hear that," she said. "He never liked the sitter. I think having a guy watch him made him feel comfortable."

"Which is why I'd like to help you with that," I told her. "I have my days off and I'm off at 4 most days."

"Oh Adam, I couldn't ask you do to that!" Holly replied. "You must have plenty on your plate already."

I shook my head. "Honestly, I really haven't be able to find anything to pass my free time. I've earned his trust, so why not?"

Holly looked torn, but she only deliberated for about thirty seconds or so. "Ok, but I insist that I pay you the same as the last sitter."

"Ok deal," I brought out my hand and shook Holly's small hand. We said our goodnights and I left with the biggest grin ever. I knew I would be the beginning of something great, but I had no idea just how crazy things were going to get.

For the next three and a half months I watched Connor at his house 4 days a week. He quickly began to see me as a brother figure, and would glow each time I walked in the door to watch him. I enjoyed my time with him, not having any younger siblings of my own to play with like this. Because he liked me so much, he rarely misbehaved and would do as I told him. Connor even began to do house chores his mom left him when I stayed with him.

But Connor was not the only part about this sitting job I loved. Many times I watched him, I would have to stay well past when he fell asleep. That gave me plenty of opportunities to smell Holly's shoes. It became quite the ritual for me. After I was sure that Connor was asleep, I would sneak into the room and begin smelling her shoes. Most times she had some stinky socks as well. I came load after load over that period, always making sure to leave no evidence of my exploits for Holly. I even stopped myself from licking the shoe soles, just as an extra precaution. New shoes began to pop up and some pairs began to take on odors. I felt like I could this forever. However, fall and the colder months came and with that the hot sweat. Less and less, Holly would go on her runs. By the time December rolled in, her shoes lost most of their stench and I began to have problems getting off from them, even her socks.

During all of this, Holly and I also became closer. She trusted me more and more and even began to talk about more personal stuff with me. I learned that her husband was a well respected surgeon and spent a lot of time at work. They had been happy together at first, but soon found themselves concentrating on their careers rather than their marriage. Holly had spent the most time with her son, calling in numerous times to take care of Connor while her husband worked. The last straw came when she learned that he was seeing another woman behind her back. Holly filed divorce and was given custody of Connor, with her husband getting visitation rights.

As we began to get closer, I started to wonder if indulging my fetish like this was right. My feelings for Holly still continued to grow, emotionally and sexually. I believe Holly began to notice too. However, she didn't make any moves until one day after work.

It was December 23rd, and I had put Connor to bed three hours ago. Holly was running late tonight, but it didn't matter to me. Die Hard was on, so I was content to just watch TV. The idea of jacking off to Holly's shoes and socks didn't really appeal to me at the time. I was tired of doing it.

I soon heard her pull into the driveway. It was snowing that night, so there was a fresh powder on the ground that I could hear the tires roll over. A minute later, Holly walked in and greeted me.

"Sorry I'm late Adam, lots of paperwork to do before my leave," she explained. Holly was taking work off until the beginning of January.

"No problem, just hoping you were safe driving out there," I replied, giving her a reassuring smile.

She returned the smile. "Oh no, the snow isn't bad yet. Very beautiful right now." Holly took over her coat and shoes and put them in her closet. I noticed her wearing bright red Christmas socks.

"Do you like them?"

I looked up. "Excuse me?"

"My socks," Holly continued. "I see you checking out my new socks. Do you like them?"

I blushed slightly at being caught. "Yes, they are really cute."

"I've been getting compliments about them all day," she replied. "I thought they might be just a little bit dorky."

"Oh no no, they aren't dorky," I reassured her. "When did you get them?"