Dedicateds: Favorite Pair


Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Foot Fetish, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: An avid shoe shopper checks out a store for a new pair of heels. She meets a very interesting shoe clerk who takes a more than average interest in her and a pair of leather heels.

I wandered into the shoe store and took a deep breath, breathing in the smell of leather from the shoes. I wasn't much of a shopper, but hell, I loved to try on shoes, especially the heels, even though I'd be more likely to fall and break my neck if I wore them.

The store was one of those eclectic ones, you know, the ones that have shoes ranging from $100 to $1500, all in the same store? It wasn't a shabby place, in fact, it had the fancy carpets, the slick and shiny leather seats for customers to sit down and try on shoes. The walls were eggshell white with pristine clear plastic racks of shoes on display, a couple of tasteful paintings, and of course, there was the delicious store clerk. I felt a little underdressed in my white peasant blouse, black skinny jeans, and my four-inch white Mary Jane pumps, especially when I saw the shoe clerk, a hunk of a guy; a good foot taller than my five-three frame, broad shoulders with a barrel chest, oh, and his ass, that fine, fine ass was on perfect display in perfectly cut black pants. I looked him up and down, possibly gay? Perhaps.

One of the three customers in the store was a middle-aged woman dressed rich. As the store clerk was on bent knee in front of her, sorting out the boxes of shoes that he'd gotten out for her, I saw that she was eyeing him like a cat eyes a mouse. Definitely a cougar. I wonder if the shoe clerk was aware that she was preparing him in her mind as her main course, but when I saw him flash a brilliant flirty smile at her, I decided that he was full aware and he was milking her for all she was worth. Slick bastard, I thought.

I wandered around to a shelf of Jimmy Choo shoes. They were totally out of my price range, but it was still fun to try them on and imagine owning a pair. I picked up a shoe on display, a red suede patent pump. It was definitely hot, the red being a near fire-engine red and it also had a peep toe, brass studs, and it had a four-inch heel. I checked the size. Eep, size six, my size. I bit my lip and took the shoe over to one of the chairs and sat down. Slipping off my shoe, I held my breath as I slipped my foot into the all-might Jimmy Choo. Oh God it fit like a dream! I rooted around and found a box of the shoe in size six, and back at my chair, I tried them both on and modeled them in front of the mirror. I loved them, oh lord, I shouldn't have tried them on. At $680 a pair, that was about way to much for my pocket to handle. I put the shoes back and wandered around some more. I tried on a glossy two-tone gray pump with a three-inch heel. It was an everyday kind of shoe but at $560.

I was drooling over a black patent bootie that was trimmed with suede with a gold buckle, and a two-toned black and gold four-inch heel when the super hot shop keeper came over.

"Hello," he said, flashing those brilliant whites. "Sorry it took me so long to help you. I was somewhat occupied." He cast a glance towards the cougar who was trying on suede Manola Blahnik booties but still keeping a hungry eye on the clerk. "Oh, interested in the Jimmy Choo booties?" he asked. He took a glance at my feet. "Hmmm ... you're a size six?"

"Um, yeah," I said. How did he know? I looked down at my feet as he ran his fingers down the side shelf of boxes. Was it that obvious?

"Here we go," he said. He pulled out a box then with a hand between my shoulder blades, he guided me back to the chair. I sat down and watched in silence as he slipped off my shoe, his fingers ever-so-delicately trailing along my bare soles, then setting aside my shoe, he picked up the bootie and slipped it onto my foot. Doing up the buckle, he smoothed his hands over the shoe. "That looks perfect," he commented, smiling up at me.

"It really does look nice," I said, "But I think it's out of my price range. I'm a shoe lover, but I stop at $200."

The clerk chuckled and I literally felt my nipples get hard. "I know the feeling," he said. "But the day is slow, so feel free to try on whatever you want. If you need any help, just ask. My name is Patrick."

"Thanks," I said. I watched him walk off, hypnotized by the yumminess of his ass, then looked down at the bootie on my foot. Fantasy, fantasy, fantasy, and more fantasy.

I put the shoe back and wandered around some more as the cougar paid for her goods and left, leaving me and two other customers trying on shoes.

There was only one other customer in the store when I came to an amazing boot from Gucci. It had a sunset high heel wedge that nearly topped four inches and the boot also had a gold horse bit over the toe. The black patent leather was shiny and pristine and with a price tag of over $1200, I felt guilty and dirty even thinking about touching them, let alone trying them on, but I did. And with the gods of shoes on my side, the boot was my size.

Back in the chair and with my own heels off, I attempted poorly at getting my foot in this near-knee high boot and was failing when Patrick wandered over.

"Oh, these are tricky ones," he said. He pulled over a small stool and sat down. He took up my bare foot in those big hands of his and bracing my heel with one hand, he used his other hand to push up my jean leg. I gritted my teeth against a moan that wanted to slip out as I felt his hand smooth over my skin, and I thanked God that I had decided to shave my legs this morning. When Patrick had my entire calf bare, he slid the boot onto my leg with ease. The boots fit like a dream, but they felt even better with the lingering touch of Patrick's hands on my skin. "There we go," he said, setting my foot down. "It's just a matter on the angle you put the foot in."

"Oh nice, I like," I said, holding up my leg to admire the boot. "It would be bad if I tried on the other, wouldn't it?"

Again with that nipple-hardening chuckle. "Well, at $1,250 a pair, trying on the other would be decadent," he said. "But I think I have a shoe that might suit you, fashion-wise and price-wise." With practiced ease, he got me out of the Gucci boot and he disappeared into the backroom and came out a few minutes later bearing a shoebox. It was a Michael Kors box. Patrick knelt on one knee and set the box on the ground and opened it. Inside were a pair of awesome heels, the heels that you see porn stars wear, the kind of heels that were made for a girl to get fucked in.

They were made out of soft textured black leather with an open toe, cradled heel, open side, weighted front midsole, and staggered leather metal studded wrap straps. There was an adjustable buckle at the ankle and the heel was just under five inches. The footbed of the shoe was soft cushioned leather and I knew that they would feel awesome.

"Here, let me help you," Patrick said. He picked up my bare foot, cradled my heel, then undoing the shoe, he slid it on. He did the same for my other foot, with his fingers lingering, touching more skin than was needed to just put on a shoe. All the while, I watched in tortured silence as he did up the buckles and smoothed his fingers over the leather straps. "There, these are the perfect shoes for you," he said. "And they're within your price range, just about $130." His hands lingered on my ankles, his thumbs moving in tiny minute circles over my slowly warming skin. "You know, these shoes would look very nice with a black skirt." His hands moved up to tug down the legs of my jeans. "Or the even look good with jeans," Patrick said. He looked up at me with those dark brown eyes. "But fashion-wise, much with bare legs."

I gave a small involuntary shudder when he said "bare legs." Patrick was definitely not gay, he was most definitely straight. And sexy, very sexy.

"What do you think, miss?" he asked.

I looked down at my feet but my eyes were drawn to his hands, cupping my ankles. "I like," I said dreamily, then clearing my throat a little, "Yes, I like them."

His dreamy smile widened and he got to his feet. "I'll be right back," he said, and he gave my knee a little squeeze and left me. I watched him walk away and slumped back in my seat and let out a shuddering breath. My heart was thudding against my ribcage and I felt warm all over, particularly between my thighs. I pressed them together and shuddered a little when pressure was put on my clit. Either I was going to stop having Patrick putting shoes on me or I was going to have to find a private place to take care of myself. I really didn't want to do either, though the latter seemed fun, but having Patrick put shoes on me was really fun.

"Are you all right?"

I jumped a little, giving a small squeak as Patrick appeared beside me. "Um, yes, I'm fine," I answered, flustered.

"Are you sure? You look a little flushed," Patrick said. "Here, let me get you something to drink."

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Heterosexual / Foot Fetish /