Shift Swap Ch 02

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Copyright Oggbashan November 2006

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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My supervisor is Mary. I mentioned her in my earlier story 'Shift Swap'. She has a long term boyfriend Darren who is useful to all of us shop workers in a minor way.

Darren has a shoe and feet fetish. I suppose it isn't a true fetish because shoes do not replace sex with him, but sex without involving women's shoes or stockinged feet might be difficult for him.

He works in an insurance branch office a few doors from our chemist's shop and finishes work about an hour before we close. He drops in every weekday afternoon and goes into the staff rest room to wait for Mary. While he waits he cleans every staff member's outdoor shoes, the ones we wear to come to work, not the sensible flatties we wear at work. He'll clean those too, if we ask him, but he prefers black high heeled shoes.

It is very easy to get Darren excited. All I need to do is wave a foot in front of his face. If I am wearing high heels and press the heel somewhere on him he nearly ejaculates on the spot.

As the supervisor, Mary is always scheduled to be the last to leave, just after the dispensing chemist. She has to close everything down and check the security. We assistants have an informal rota to keep Darren amused while he waits for Mary. We owe him something for looking after our shoes. Keeping in Mary's good books is also useful if we want favours from the supervisor such as time off to go to the Post Office. Tuesday is usually my turn to look after Darren.

I walk into the rest room and sit down on the bench. Without saying a word I lift a leg and hold out my foot. Darren drops to his knees and removes my sensible shoe. He kisses my sweaty stocking foot before fitting my high-heeled shoe. We then repeat the ritual for the other foot. He brings me a mug of tea, made exactly how I like it, and then polishes my work shoes, wraps them in a soft cloth, and puts them in their place under the bench, next to everyone else's work shoes.

I wait until he has finished cleaning and polishing and all the shoes, except Mary's, are in their proper place, and then I stand up. Darren lies on his back on the floor with his arms above his head, crooked so that his fingertips I touching. I am probably still drinking the mug of tea as I stand carefully so that the arches of my high-heeled shoes clamp his wrists to the floor. I am facing his feet.

I can't see Darren's head. That is hidden under my calf-length flared work skirt. Darren can see straight up under the skirt and cotton slip to my panties and suspenders. I always wear stockings and suspenders on Tuesdays. He thrashes around on the floor, pretending to be helplessly pinned by my high heels, until Mary arrives. She changes into her high heels and puts her hands into another pair of impossibly high heels.

She takes up her position behind me, and one after another she exchanges her heels for mine, still trapping Darren's wrists. I walk forward as Mary lowers herself to a squatting position over Darren's face. She leans forward and presses the heels of the shoes on her hands around his groin.

As I leave the shop, closing the outer door so that it locks loudly, Mary drops her pantied pussy right on to Darren's face. She presses hard with the other shoes so that Darren can't come too soon. She wriggles her pussy across his face for several minutes before easing her hands out. She undoes his trousers and pulls his boxers towards his knees before lowering her head. Her lips open to accept his straining erection. Her body slumps across him, her feet wrench his arms away from his head, and her pussy smothers his face as she sucks and swallows.

How do I know? One night I slammed the door loudly and crept back to watch. Once Darren was drained I crept away and left very quietly. I know what Darren likes. So do all my colleagues. You never know, sometime that knowledge might be useful if we want a real favour from Mary.