On Display (A Shoe Obsession Erotic Short) (2 page)

She’d had massages before, but none that sent
tingling shoots of desire and longing in an arc over her whole
body. She felt electric— a live wire snaking and sparking in a
puddle of rain water—a charge building with each swipe of his hand.
Her nipples hardened and she squirmed in her seat as his fingers
continued their slow assault. With every stroke, every flash of
electricity coursing through her body, she shimmied on the couch,
her dress inching higher and higher till most of her thighs sat
bare and exposed. Her panties dampened and she felt possessed—a
woman charged and ready to release.

As Dylan’s fingers slipped between her toes,
she gasped, bolts of pleasure and pain shooting from her toes to
her clit with each caress. Mandy clenched her hands into fists,
pressing her knuckles into the couch until they ached. Her whole
body shuddered: a flickering light fading in and out with Dylan’s
touch.

“Mandy. Relax. I can’t bring your feet back
to life if they’re balled up in knots.”

Mandy opened her eyes and looked down at
Dylan. “Oh, they’re alive, trust me.” She pulled her feet out of
his hands and tucked them underneath her. Tugging her dress back
down and scooting up onto the cushion, her cheeks blazed as she
looked at him. He appeared so intent and calm, staring at her as he
rocked back on his heels. She bit her lip and took a deep breath,
fighting down the urge to scramble off the couch and devour him one
kiss at a time.

“Well, if you’re sure they’re all right, then
I have something you might like.” Dylan spun around on the balls of
his feet and opened a box. As he turned back around he held out the
boots from the window. “You’re in luck. We have your size. Care to
try them on?” He tilted his head and raised a single eyebrow as he
dangled the boots in front of her.

Mandy clapped her hands like a schoolgirl.
“Ooh. Yes! Please!” She slipped her feet off the couch and stuck
them out for Dylan, eager to try on the objects of her material
fantasy.

“I knew I could get your feet back off the
couch,” he said with a grin as he took her calf in his hand and
eased a boot onto her foot. As the leather slid over her foot and
up her leg, he crept closer, angling his body between her thighs
and pushing her legs apart. Mandy inhaled a quick jolt of air as
his hand slid higher, past her knee and up her inner thigh. As he
stroked her bare skin, he slid the boot on all the way with his
other hand.

Dylan raised up from his crouch and hovered
in front of her, his nose brushing Mandy’s blonde hair away from
her ear.

“One down, one to go,” he whispered, his
breath hot on her cheek before he withdrew and reached for the
other boot.

As he withdrew, the loss of his heat and his
body so close hit her in a frigid wave. She choked down a moan and
bit her lip. Twisting and plumping and tugging, Mandy rolled her
lip between her teeth as Dylan turned back around. As he positioned
the other boot, his hands found her thigh, sliding down and around
and over till he could guide her foot into the suede lining and zip
it closed. Kneeling between her legs, he let her foot slide down to
the floor.

“Well? How do they fit?”

Mandy let her lip go, let the blood rush back
to the wounded tissue as she fluttered her eyelids shut.
How far
can I push this? How far am I willing to go?
As she opened her
eyes, Dylan’s lips curved, a half-smile that sent sparks jolting
and pinging in her body, a rush so heady she had her answer. Mandy
slid towards him, scooting to the edge of the couch where his
thighs pressed into the evergreen leather. She slid her knees and
thighs along his sides, feeling his muscles tense as she advanced.
Her hands found his arms, sliding and slipping their way around his
biceps and over his shoulders till she grazed his neck with her
fingertips.

“I think they fit. But I have to walk in them
to be sure.”

“Of course.” He pushed himself away from the
couch and stood up, running a hand over his hair. “How about to the
mirror and back?”

“Perfect.” Mandy stood up, adjusted to the
wicked height of the boots and took a step. The platform threw her
at first, the balls of her feet unaccustomed to the artificial
depth, but after a few steps she adjusted. She pranced to the
mirror, giddy with the reflective patent on her feet, and took
stock of her appearance. The deep black of the boots made her skin
almost ghostly, a pale luminescence set off by the burgundy of her
dress. And as she hiked up the hem of her skirt and turned for a
different view, she saw Dylan stiffen, saw his hands clench at his
sides as he watched her. Her body responded, thighs quivering and
panties soaking as she turned to face him. She wrapped the silk
jersey dress around her thighs, pulling it tight across her ass as
she spun for him. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re beautiful. And sexy. And it’s
taking all my self control not to rip your dress off…. But I’m
assuming you mean the boots. Come here and let me check the
fit.”

Mandy’s mouth gaped and her hands released
her dress, letting the fabric bounce to mid-thigh as she walked
towards him. Stopping a few inches away, she marveled at his size.
The boots made her six inches taller, but she still didn’t meet him
in the eye.
Damn.

“Sit,” he commanded. She obeyed, sliding onto
the couch and placing her feet front and center. Dylan ran his
hands over the leather, tracing the stitching with his fingers as
he picked up first one foot and then another. He set her feet down
in a wide stance, spreading her knees apart as his hands found her
naked skin. Mandy jumped at the contact, at the tingling shock of
their skin colliding once again.

Dylan’s hands slid up her shins, over her
knees and up her thighs, his thumbs caressing the soft inner skin
of her legs as he kneeled in front of her. As Mandy gasped and
trembled, Dylan’s fingers slid under the hem of her dress, up and
up, over and around, to grip her ass. One fluid tug and he pulled
her to him, her wet panties meeting his cock, hard and throbbing
beneath the worsted wool. He used his hands to rock her, a slow
grind against his body, rubbing and rolling as her breathing grew
hurried and shallow.

“Well?” Mandy managed to pant as her body
hummed with electric current. “Do they fit?”

“Perfectly,” Dylan replied as he leaned into
her and kissed her on the lips.

Chapter
Three

As their lips met, a pricking tingle cascaded
from Mandy’s lips to her cheeks, a million bursts of current
feathering into and over her body. Her back arched—breasts pressing
into Dylan’s shirt, hands running up his arms—as their lips flashed
and cracked together. The current spread through her, firecracker
fingers singeing her neck and chest and thighs, till she moaned
against his lips and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Mandy’s ankles locked around him, patent
leather catching patent leather in a vise behind Dylan’s ass,
leather manacles in a gleaming size 7. As Mandy crushed against
him, Dylan’s lips parted, his tongue demanding entrance and
release. She acquiesced, opening her mouth as his tongue slid past
her lips, plundering and pillaging her mouth. He tasted of
wintergreen—a hard candy sparking between his teeth—and Mandy
melted from the electric heat. Her legs draped over him, her arms
went limp around his neck, and her body became pliant and
willing.

Her ankles unlocked, the vise cranking wide
and loose, as her feet slid to the floor. As the platforms met
carpet, Dylan’s hands slipped around her waist, searching and
probing until they landed on the tie of her dress. A simple tug and
pull and Mandy’s dress fell open, the unwrapped layers spilling
onto the burnished green Chesterfield. The shock of cold, of
exposure in the bright store light sent Mandy reeling. She broke
their kiss and opened her eyes, a pair of saucers propped above a
panting mouth and flaming cheeks.

She looked at Dylan, at his pupils in near
eclipse, at his nose as it flared with each inhalation, and she
forced a deep breath in and out. “Look Dylan,” she said as she
leaned back, arms straight behind her, palms pressing into the
couch, “I might be reckless, but I don’t need to get arrested. Can
you kill the lights and lock the door?”

Dylan rocked back on his heels and stared at
her. “Not what I was expecting to hear,” he responded, still
staring.

“Really?”

“Really. I … I’ve definitely never had a
customer like you.”

“And I’ve never had this kind of service at
shoe store,” Mandy said as she looked up at him with a smirk on her
face.

Dylan rubbed his hand with his jaw and stood
up before walking to the back wall. He flicked off the light and
strode to the front door, locking it with a satisfying screech and
grind. As he came back around, angling around the couch to face
her, Mandy looked up at him, at his face washed in dim
streetlights, at his body so luscious and firm beneath his clothes,
and she smiled.

Who needs a bar? I’ve got everything I
need for a one-night rebound right here. And a couch to boot.
Mandy laughed at her ridiculous pun as she slipped her dress off
her shoulders, letting the silk pool on the green leather. She
spread her legs, angling her knees far and wide as she looked up at
Dylan standing before her.

He paused, stock still as he looked at her—at
her pale body covered only by scraps of black lace—and he inhaled a
deep, shaky breath. “I was going to ask if you were sure, let you
know that you could always leave, or we could make a date, but…” he
trailed off.

“But I’m sitting here in my underwear, legs
spread-eagled waiting for you to fill them. Yeah, that pretty much
answers your question, right?”

“One of them. But … why?”

Mandy cocked her head as she looked at him.
“Seriously?”

“Yeah … seriously.”

“Well,” she said, beckoning him closer, “I
ruined my favorite pair of shoes walking to the subway because I
dumped my shitty boyfriend and only ride home today.” She paused as
he stepped closer, running the tip of a boot up his calf and thigh.
“And then I saw these boots in your window, and I had to have them,
needed to touch them, smell them, slip them onto my feet and revel
in their everything.” Her foot slipped over Dylan’s thigh, the
platform toe inching higher and higher till she found his erection
beneath the tailored trousers. She rubbed, a gentle stroke of
patent on wool, as she smiled. “And then you showed up and I knew I
needed to have you too.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You should be.”

Dylan choked back a laugh as Mandy flexed her
toes, pressing the boot into Dylan’s cock until he moaned. As she
flexed again, Dylan grabbed her around the ankle, wrenching her
foot up to his lips. He kissed the toe of her boot, lips to
polished leather, and inched higher, kissing, grazing, breathing,
until his nose brushed her bare calf and she jumped in
response.

He smiled into her skin, kissing her calf,
nipping her skin with his teeth. He inched higher and higher, lips
and teeth and tongue leaving a trail of fire, of electric burns up
Mandy’s calf and inner thigh. Her leg quivered, a static humming,
her body a filament heating till she glowed. Dylan kneeled before
her and released her leg, letting it slide back onto the couch as
his hands ran up her thighs. His hands found her back in a slow
glide of fingers fanning out across her skin, until he met the lace
of her bra. A single flick, a twist of fingers, and her bra
unclasped.

Mandy gasped in a surge of renewed panic as
she turned to look out the glass of the shop. “What if someone sees
us?”

“They can’t. Between the back of the couch
and the display, I’m nothing but a shadow in the dark and you don’t
exist.” Dylan’s hands ran under the straps of her bra, sliding it
over her shoulders and off her arms. He tossed it on the floor and
found her breasts, their gentle firmness yielding to his stroke.
“But if you’re worried,” he continued, as his fingers circled her
nipples, “don’t move. Stay hidden and let me take the risk. I don’t
care if the whole neighborhood watches as I make you come. I want
to feel your body tighten around me, hear you scream my name as you
explode, right here on this couch.”

Dylan slid lower and flicked Mandy’s nipple
with his tongue, making her moan and arch her back, begging him for
more. As he responded, his thumb pressing and circling one nipple
while his tongue licked and flicked the other, she cried out,
riding waves of current sparking and spitting inside her. Her clit
throbbed in anticipation, greedy and anxious to share in her
breasts’ delight. She pulled up, wrapped her hands around his head
and ran her fingers over his cropped hair, pressing his mouth to
her until he sucked her nipple, fondling and nipping with his
teeth. As Dylan rolled and licked and suckled, Mandy thrashed
beneath him, burning with the need to release.

Her hands slid down his neck to the buttons
on his shirt, and she pulled and tugged in a shaky attempt to set
his chest free. But he laughed as he pushed her back, taking her
wrists in his hand and leaning into her till she hit the back of
the couch. “Patience,” he said as he kissed her on the lips, “it’s
your turn first.” Letting her wrists go, he ran his hands over her
cheeks, her neck, her waist, until he found her panties. Hooking
his fingers underneath, he pulled and she lifted, her panties
sliding off her hips and down her thighs until Dylan leaned back
and slipped them off.

He exhaled a pent up, heavy breath, as he
spread her wide. His fingers inched along her thighs, searching in
the dark until they found her pussy, swollen and ready. He slipped
a finger into her slick channel and groaned as he felt her need,
her lust dripping from her core. His finger pumped inside her, a
gentle searching and seeking, until he found the spot that made her
quiver, made her clench around him like a vise. She gasped, a sound
torn from her with his rhythm, and she gave in, surrendered to the
heat and passion, to the need to climax building to a fever pitch
inside her. The whole city could be outside that window, noses
pushed up against the glass craning their necks for a better view,
and Mandy wouldn’t care. Let them watch her lose control if she
could only come.