You have a lot of time to think when you are sitting on a cot in a jail cell. No TV, no radio or newspapers to distract you, nothing but a wall with names and dates crudely scratched into it. You could spend time wondering what was behind RAMOS 4-12-81 or what the story was that went with I FUCKED MARIE AND HERE I AM, but I didn't. What I thought of mostly was why I was there — what caused me to be sitting in a jail cell. The primary reason was clear enough; another man found me with his wife and decided to get physical over it and it turned out that my game was better than his. The end result was that he was at the hospital emergency room and I was in jail, but the real question was why was I with his woman in the first place? Just what was it in my make up that had put us in my bed?
Any shrink worth his salt will tell you that your problem, whatever it might be, had its roots in something that your parents did. In my case they would have been absolutely right. I was eleven years old at the time. My mom and dad both worked during the day and so the house sat empty from around seven-thirty in the morning until at least five in the evening. It was in the spring, April if I remember right, and I had a bad case of spring fever so I decided to skip school and go home.
If I had walked to school that morning it never would have happened. I would have come down the street to use the front door and I would have seen mom's car parked out front and I wouldn't have gone into the house. But I had ridden my bike to school that day and so when I came home I came down the alley so I could put my bike in the garage. I let myself in the back door and I was halfway up the stairs on the way to my room before I heard the noises. It sounded like some one was hurt. There was a lot of moaning and when I heard it I got scared because no one was supposed to be in the house. But scared or not an eleven year olds curiosity is a strong thing so I slowly moved up the stairs to investigate.
The noise was coming from my parents bedroom and I quietly tip-toed down the hall, ready to turn and flee if necessary, and I peeked around the doorframe and saw my mother on the bed with a man I had never seen before. I knew what they were doing because I had seen some French post cards and some of the older kids had described what I was looking at as fucking. Mom was on her back and her legs were spread in a wide vee and sticking up in the air. She had on all her clothes except for her underpants and the man's pants were off, but he still had on his shirt, shoes and socks. From where I was standing I couldn't see much, but what I did see was enough to stamp something into my brain that has stayed with me these past forty years. My mother was wearing nylons, a garter belt and high heels and the picture of those nylon-covered legs and high heel clad feet has never left me. I have had a nylon, high heel fetish ever since and it was that fetish that put me in the jail cell.
It started when I was laid off from the job that I'd had for twenty-one years. I had to go out and find something else and I finally found a job in the office of a paper company. The first couple of weeks I spent learning my way around and getting to know my new co-workers. There was one co-worker in particular that I had a hard time keeping my eyes off of. Her name was Glenda and besides being a very sexy looking lady overall Glenda wore high heels every day of the week. It didn't matter if she was in a dress, a skirt, slacks or jeans, the shoes were always high heels and I always got a hard on when she walked by my desk. About a month after I started they reorganized the office and Glenda's desk ended up where I got to spend most of the day looking at her legs. It didn't take Glenda long to realize that she had an admirer and it soon became obvious to me that Glenda had some exhibitionist tendencies. She also must have had a touch of evil in her. She rearranged her open front desk so that all I had to do was look up from whatever I was doing and I couldn't miss the display.
Once Glenda knew she had my attention she started to torment me. Her skirts became shorter which had the effect of showing a lot more leg. When sitting at her desk she would open her legs just wide enough to make me wonder if I was going to see the Promised Land. Several times she did open them wide enough to let me see the color of her panties. I knew that she was doing it on purpose, but every time I looked up from enjoying the scenery I would find her looking studiously in another direction. This went on for months and then one morning I glanced over at her and saw that her legs were spread wide and I noticed that she had no panties on. I also noticed that she had a shaved beaver. The sight took my breath away and when I finally was able to tear my eyes away and look up I saw her looking at me with what I can only call an evil grin on her face. It seemed that Glenda wanted to move things onto a higher plane.
Over the next couple of weeks Glenda would flash her pussy at me two or three times a week. If she had been single I would have been after her in a heartbeat, but I just wasn't the kind of guy who goes after another man's wife. Girlfriend or fiancée no problem, but wife, no. I did spend a lot of time wondering what her motives were. Did she just like being the exhibitionist, did she get a kick out of teasing me, or was she sending me an invitation? I was still wondering the day she flashed me with her shaved pussy and then, while I watched in stunned disbelief, shoved a battery operated dildo in it. I looked up and she winked at me, licked her lips and then blew a kiss at me. Twenty minutes later she got up and walked over to my desk, "Enjoy the show?"
"It was a little distracting and I'm afraid it probably is going to make me late in turning in this report."
"I should charge admission, but I get so turned on by the looks on your face that I'll settle for asking you your advice."
"My advise about what?"
"Here, take a look at this" and she handed me a catalog. It was from a company called the Leslie Shoe Company from some place in Michigan. "Take a look through it and tell me which style would look the sexiest on me."
I leafed through the small book and saw that Leslie catered to those who wore high heels. Strappy sandals, classic CFMs, high heeled boots, they were all there. I pointed to a shoe that was all thin straps with a five-inch heel and she looked at it and then back at me.
"Funny. I would have bet that you would be a "come fuck me pumps" guy."
"Normally I am, but you have small, sexy feet and I like to see your painted toes. CFMs would cover them up."
"Ooooh, do I detect a trace of kinky here?"
"No, I just know what I like."
"Well okay. Since you are my primary audience and that's what you like, that's what you will get."
Before I could ask her what she meant by "primary audience" she went back to her desk.
The next day Glenda swung by my desk when she got to work. She dropped a magazine in front of me and said, "You like toes so read the story on page 46."
I picked up the magazine and saw that it was an issue of LEG SHOW. I turned to page 46 and saw that the title of the story was "Maude's Toe Sucking Slave." I looked over at Glenda and saw that she was inserting her battery operated toy. She blew me a kiss, spread her legs wide so that I couldn't miss a thing and then she went to work on the pile of papers in front of her on her desk.
It is hard to get any work done when a woman is doing her absolute best to hold your attention, but I did my best and I was able to finish my report by lunchtime. I glanced over at Glenda and made a decision. In all the time I had been with the company there had been no social interaction between Glenda and me. No lunches together, no coffee breaks shared in the break room, and in fact I don't believe that before she showed me her shoe catalog we had exchanged ten words with each other. All that we had going was her teasing of me. I got up from my desk and walked over to hers. She looked up at me and I said, "How about lunch?"
She gave me an appraising glance and then said, "I guess I could do that."
After the waiter took our order Glenda said, "What took you so long?"
"So long to what?"
"To finally get around to asking me out?"
"You're married and I don't usually mess around with another man's woman."
"What's different now?"
"I guess it is pretty much curiosity about what is going on between us at the office."
"Anything else wouldn't mean a thing."
"I have a kinky side that I wasn't aware of until about a year ago. I found a copy of LEG SHOW and after I read it I realized that I was like some of the women that are in the stories and that I wanted some of the same things that they wanted. When I saw the way you looked at my legs and feet I thought that you might be like some of the men in the stories and I began to tease you to see what you would do. You kept looking, but you didn't do anything so I kept escalating to see if I could get to you. When you still didn't do anything I decided to approach you with the shoe catalog. When you mentioned toes yesterday I remembered the toe-sucking story and that's why I dropped the magazine on your desk this morning. Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"A man like the men in the stories."
"I don't know. I've never read any of the stories. What kind of men are they?"
"Toe sucking, leg and feet worshippers, submissive and like that."
.... There is more of this story ...