My wife Christie and I enjoy role-playing games. My favorite is probably the shoe store game. I'll do my best to recount our first time playing this when she didn't know what to expect. I hope that one day we will adapt this for play in a department store shoe department – one that isn't right in town would be best. This is a great lovers' game which I encourage readers to try. If you are inspired to reenact this game, I would love to hear about it.
To set the mood for the game, I arranged to have the kids stay with their grandparents over night. I play smooth jazz on the stereo, which my wife loves. I prepared a glass of wine for Christie and ask her to wait patiently as I prepare a little surprise for her. While she relaxes in ignorant anticipation, I go upstairs with a cold beer to prepare the scene.
Upstairs adjoining our master bedroom is a small sitting area in which there are two chairs, one is a leather recliner and the other is a stuffed arm chair with matching ottoman. Between the two chairs is a table and lamp. I bring our full-length mirror out from the corner and place it in front of the recliner where Christie will be trying on shoes. Next I get out 10 or 12 pairs of Christie's nicest shoes – the shoes range in style and include sandals, pumps, high heels and boots. Some slip on easily and others, those preferred, contain laces or straps that require more attention to put on. I also get out two of her prettiest dresses and a nice short skirt; I hook the hangers over the upper door ledge. I dress in dress pants, a starched shirt, and dress shoes and neatly comb my hair and apply a subtle but noticeable amount of aftershave.
Once the basics room arrangements are made, I dim the lights, and lower the blinds. I close the bedroom door to conceal the arrangement from Christie. I collect a prepared list of instructions for Christie which I take downstairs. When I arrive downstairs I find that Christie has started a second glass of wine and is dying of curiosity to know what I've been doing. I walk downstairs, note in hand.
"Hi Sweetie", I coo as I enter the Living Room to look at my lovely wife. Her cheeks are flushed from the wine and she is eager and yet worried as to my plans for her. Her blue eyes seem a bit more sparkling than usual.
"Ok, so what is it you want me to do? This isn't going to be weird is it?" she anxiously quips.
"No, it won't be weird, perhaps naughty but I think you will enjoy it – I promise no pain - the only pain you may experience will be from cumming too hard," I say as I gently take a seat beside her on the sofa.
"When you have finished reading these instructions, please bring your wine up to the bedroom." At this, I hand her the folded paper and turn away towards the staircase.
She reads, "You are a slutty exhibitionist. You are looking to publicly expose herself to a complete stranger. A stranger, a handsome young salesman, will be waiting for you at the department store upstairs. If he suggests that you try on one of the dresses in the shop, you should put one on and perhaps even carelessly walk out of the changing area into his view as you put it on. You should make this appear to be completely accidental of course. When you redress, after stripping completely nude you must NOT put your panties, stockings or bra back on. During the shoe fitting process to follow, you may allow the sales manager to peek at you, but should behave as if you don't realize that this is happening. Allow the situation to evolve naturally, but remember that you are a customer and the poor lad will try powerfully to maintain his professionalism though he will do whatever is necessary to make the customer happy."
After reading her instructions, Christie starts up the stairs. As she reaches the bedroom, she pauses and knocks gently.
"Hello, so is this the department store?" she coyly teases.
"Why yes, madam, I am so glad you came. We run a very exclusive business here and lucky for you, you are my only customer at present. We have a variety of dresses and shoes. Might I interest you in one of our dresses?"
Christie innocently responds, "Well what do you have?"
I show her what I got out earlier.
She says, "I think I might like this skirt. May I try it on?"
"By all means, please use the changing area back here."
Christie grabs the skirt and walks into her walk-in closet to whence I have directed her. She turns to me and says, "I hope you will give me your opinion of the skirt. Do you mind staying in the area so that you can tell me how it looks?"
"Absolutely, I want you to ensure your satisfaction."
She doesn't completely close the door, I turn away to indicate my reluctance as a professional to any appearance of impropriety.
Christie calls out, "Excuse me, what is your name?"
"James" –
For tonight I'm not her husband but James, a polite young salesman.
Christie calls back placing emphasis on my new name, "James, I seem to be having trouble with the zipper on this skirt. Can you help me?"
"By all means, ma'am", I reply. At this point I see that she has removed the pants that she wore into the store and is holding the skirt in front of her, feigning an inability to open the zipper on the skirt. As she holds it in front of herself, I can see the sides of her panties but she has been careful to be somewhat discrete in how she holds the uncooperative garment in front of her.
"Please don't call me ma'am, I am not an old woman!" she complains.
I stumble to blurt out, "Sorry, ma'am, er, I mean, sorry. Where I grew up, ma'am is a respectful way to address a lady; I did not intend to offend you. What shall I call you instead?" While I await her reply I easily open the zipper on the skirt.
"Sweetie, you may call me Christie," she replies as she takes the skirt from my hand.
"Ok, Christie, I will be right outside the door, should you need me."
"Oh good, please don't go, I enjoy having someone to talk to while I try on clothing. Oh, and please don't turn away as I want to be able to hear you, James." At this she bends forward, as she smoothly strips off her panties, only partially obscured at this point by the door. Keeping her eyes cast down to afford me opportunity to peek, she slowly stands up straight. As she stands she exposes her bare legs and her scant bush, should one be looking. I was looking; her closed slit is visible, as she doesn't allow any hair to grow below the top of her crack. She has told me that this is so that she can feel my lips without any interference when I am fucking her with my lips and tongue. Christie has silky smooth skin - a product of her religious attention to moisturizing. She is a petite 4'11 but with marvelously curvaceous hips which are wonderful to clutch when sliding my manhood in and out of her. She slowly stands and pulls the skirt up over her thighs and hips; all the while not raising her eyes so that my leering can continue unimpeded. At this she raises her eyes and stands halfway through the partly open door; tacitly implying that I could not have seen her prior to this moment.
"Does this make me look fat?" she asks.
"Oh no, I think that skirt does wonders to accentuate a very curvaceous figure," I honestly respond. "That skirt will be a real knockout with some new shoes to go with it."
She emerges from the closet and says, "So you think I'm curvaceous James? You sweet thing. What shoes do you have for me to try?"
"Well let me show you," I reply as I walk her past the lines of shoes that I have assembled.
She stops and selects a pair of slip-on sandals. "Where can I try them?" she asks.
I direct her to the recliner which is facing the mirror and indicate, "please sit here to try them on, you can be in comfort and see how they look right away with the mirror so conveniently nearby."
"Oh thank you. Would you mind helping me?" she coyly inquires.
"Certainly," I say as I get on my knees before her. She raises her foot for me in an exaggerated movement that causes her thighs to part ever so slightly. I slide the strapless sandal onto her foot gently. She intentionally lets the skirt ride up and her leg rise as I slide her shoe on. I get the other sandal and slide it on in similar fashion. Her pussy lips are closed but her slit and bush is exposed. I step back to allow her to see how the shoes look in the mirror. I addition to seeing how cute her skirt and sandals look, she can see a reflection of her labia peeking out from her hiked up skirt. Neither she nor I acknowledge this though she knows she is showing and knows I am looking.
Christie then stands and saunters around the mirror looking at her legs and feet in the mirror. I likewise admire the twin images of this very fuckable woman and her reflection as she prances about. She even hikes up her skirt to feign an attempt to better see her shoes, as though pulling it up will improve her view. Her pulling up the hem definitely improves my view as I sit on the ottoman in close vertical proximity to her most wanted wares. I am in the conflicted agony of wanting to make physical contact but knowing that I should try to remain professional and unaffected by the scene before me.
We repeat this process for several more pairs of shoes
After we get to about four or five pairs the sequence continues with some improvements. Christie selects heels with little straps that come up her ankle and that will require more assistance from me to properly get onto her feet. When Christie returns to her seat, I again kneel before her to assist her with the shoes. First I slowly slide off each sandal as she accommodates this process with exaggeratedly salacious movements of her legs. I notice that her slit is no longer closed as she does this but the swelling of her labia minora has disturbed the normal condition of her vulva. My heart races and I feel a tingling in my cock and my nut sack tightens as I gaze upon the wonderful sight of her swelling folds. Amidst this electric moment, I attempt to maintain my role as the unobtrusive and shy James. I gently and with deliberate slowness caress her foot as I slide her foot into the heels. I use two hands to pull the loose end of the strap through the fastener and I finish by holding her ankle and rubbing it. I take a deep breath to try to keep my voice sounding nonchalant as I ask, "How does that feel? These heels certainly bring out the best of you." With her leg elevated above her waist and her skirt hiked up above her pubic area, I savor every eye-popping moment with as much slowness and deliberateness as is possible without having to acknowledge that I can see her obviously slick and parted pussy lips. I repeat this with the other shoe; my balls are tightening up and my tongue is feeling dry as I imagine just stopping the game now and diving in face first into her fur pie. I catch her glancing in the mirror and know that she admires how slick and puffy her lips are getting; her clitoris is beginning to become engorged as she acts casual and pretends that nothing whatsoever is going on.
Before I can act on my impulse to lunge my tongue into her dampness, Christie rises to begin strutting before the mirror. She says, "These are nice, don't you think, James?"
"Yes, they accentuate the curves in your calves and the roundness of your behind."
"So you like my calves and behind, James? You like my ass?"
"Ma'am, er, I mean Christie, I think you are a very attractive woman but meant no disrespect and no I was just making an observation, I was not trying to act inappropriately," I sheepishly reply.
"Are you looking at my ass, James?"
"Miss Christie, I think those shoes look just great on you," I say.
