Wear it (Darien pt 10)

“So,” the woman said as she opened the dressing room door to face Andrew. “What have you got for me?”

Andrew had started opening the boxes he’d brought in anticipation of her arrival, pulling out a variety of dark pumps from various brands.

“I got a selection,” he said. “These are pretty popular.”

The woman sat on the folding chair that Andrew had put out, casually slipping off the shoes he’d just put on. Andrew couldn’t help but sneak a glance at her feet, covered in hose, begging to be touched.

He had always known he had something of a fetish for shoes, feet and hose, but it was only now, only today, that he had managed to experience that fetish in real life. It was more exciting, more intoxicating than he could imagine, making him almost dizzy with anticipation that he might get to touch this woman’s feet and legs again.

The shoes Andrew was holding were relatively plain, with a faux leather upper, four-plus inch heel and a thin strap with buckle that would go around the ankle. Andrew had picked them in part just because of that. He’d already undone the ankle strap and now presented the shoe, just as before.

The woman smiled at his offer of help and slipped her toes into the front of the shoe, which was pointed, although not ‘sharp’. The heel, on the other hand, was practically a stiletto, as thin as it was.

The ankle strap slipped around her hose-covered leg. Andrew didn’t even look at her, worried perhaps that she’d shoo him away. He reached out and found the two ends of the strap, slipping one end into the buckle. Pulling them tight, he managed to get the strap buckled on the second hole.

“Thank you,” the woman said, sounding like she meant it. Andrew still didn’t look up, or say anything. Instead he offered up the second shoe.

The woman’s other foot, her left, moved towards him. As she pushed her toes into the shoe, Andrew suddenly felt the side of her foot rubbing against his thumb, which held onto the shoe. It hadn’t happened on the other foot. Something within him woke up, like an eager lover. He felt his cock throb at her touch.

“Andrew,” the woman said, her tone implying he should look at her.

Slowly he raised his head to see her looking directly at him, a subtle smile on her face. Once again he was taken with how perfect she looked, her makeup accentuating the curves of her face. That smile looked so inviting, he wanted to touch her in ways he’d only dreamed of.

“Do you like shoes, Andrew?”

“Of course,” Andrew said. “I mean, you gotta wear ‘em, so–”

“You know what I mean, Andrew,” the woman said with a chuckle. “Do you like shoes.”

Andrew just nodded.

“I thought so,” she said softly. “Heels, most of all?”

Andrew nodded.

“Don’t stop then,” the woman said. “Put this on.”

The woman’s toes were already in the second shoe, so Andrew pulled the ankle strap around and into place, buckling it like he’d done the first.

When he was finished, the woman sighed contentedly. “Let’s see how they look,” she said, standing so that once again Andrew’s face came within inches of her hose-clad legs.

Without a word, she walked away from Andrew towards a mirror nearby, the one set up specially for shoe buyers, flush as it was with the floor and angled slightly.

It was only a few yards away, but Andrew couldn’t take his eyes off her. Every step was measured, every stride calculated. Each footstep went in front of the other, shoes almost overlapping, the deliberate walk of a woman who wanted to be noticed. Stared at. Andrew obliged.

Stopping in front of the mirror, she turned this way and that, looking at the shoes and her reflection. “They’re cute,” she said, turning and lifting her foot from the ground, raising the heel up as if she was posing for someone’s photograph. “I’m not sure, though. What do you think?”

Andrew stopped himself before saying “Me?” It was obvious by now that for some unknown reason, this woman wanted his opinion. “They’re, uh, nice.”

“Not your favorite?”

Andrew shook his head. “Not really. I like heels with a strap, but–”

“Not these?” She nodded and walked back, giving him another good look at her strut. “Fine. Plenty more to try, hmm?” She sat back on the chair. “Can you help?”

Andrew didn’t need to be asked twice. With trembling fingers he unstrapped the heel, using the other hand to gently hold her ankle as he did so. The feeling of the hose beneath his palm, slick and warm, made him flush with arousal once more. Carefully, trying not to make his excitement too obvious, he repeated the process with the other shoe.

Then she spoke, as if she read his mind.

“Andrew,” the woman said, the same tone as before. He felt compelled to look up this time. “Do you like hosiery, too? Pantyhose? Stockings? I mean, in the same way that you like shoes?”

Just hearing those words from a woman’s mouth, let alone a gorgeous woman’s, left him breathless.

It meant all he could do was nod.

“Get the next pair of shoes,” she said, her gaze fixed on him.

He lifted up a pair of black mules, the heel spreading outwards to a wider, more stable base. The toe and body of the shoe was covered by a ribbed pattern, going laterally across. Andrew proffered the heel like an obedient servant. As her toes slid inside, Andrew could hear the soft whisper of the hose sliding against the shoe’s material. A bead of sweat broke out on his forehead.

“Now the other,” the woman said in her lowest tone yet.

Andrew took the other shoe and held it carefully, allowing her to slide her toes inside. She gave out the slightest noise as she did so, a moan perhaps. Andrew didn’t dare to ask.

“Kneel.”

Andrew was already down on one knee. Without thinking he dropped to the other knee like a trained animal.

“Kiss my shoe,” she said quietly.

Andrew didn’t hesitate. He bent downwards and softly kissed her left shoe, smelling the faux leather material, the same smell that hit whenever a fresh box was opened.

“Now the other one.”

Again he moved without thinking, kissing the top of the other shoe.

“Up.”

He sat back, looking up at her. There was a gleam in her eyes. With excellent balance, she lifted one foot from the ground and planted the sole of her shoe on his chest. Andrew grunted, leaning back, acting as something of a platform for her. She wasn’t exerting pressure, though. She just wanted him to feel her shoe.

“What do you think of these?” she asked, as if was the perfectly normal way any customer would assess shoes.

“I like them,” Andrew said. “I like… you in them.”

She gave a tiny chuckle, like an acknowledgement that she’d heard him, but nothing more. Then she dropped her foot and turned around, presenting her backside to him beneath that oh-so-tight dress.

“From the heel to my knee,” she said. “Worship me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Andrew said, heart leaping in anticipation.

“You can call me Emily,” she said, as he bent downwards, desperate to please.