I've always been fascinated by the glimpse of sole given by a delicate stiletto sandal. A girl's beautiful foot, maybe naked, maybe in delicate stockings or tights, exposed in a wispy, strappy shoe is for me always a thing of wonder. But there's something extra-special about the elusive, evasive view from the rear, the sandal narrowing between the heel and the toes to reveal a tantalizing margin of flesh on either side. Unless you make a habit of hiding in stairwells, it's never visible for more than a fleeting moment as a girl teeters along in front of you in her heels, a mesmerizing wobble as her foot touches ground and she struggles unconsciously for balance, then that instant of beauty as her other foot lifts from the ground and tips towards you. An instant of sheer magic, and every time I want to plunge to the ground, to hold her delicate foot in my hands, to smother her foot in kisses, to run my tongue along her flesh or along the rough nylon of her tights, to worship that lovely earthiness of her foot. Delicious.
I remember the first time I was struck by this vision. I was maybe 24, on one of my first business trips, and in front of me going up some stairs at the airport was an innocently beautiful girl a couple of years younger than me, long brown hair swinging on her shoulders, a fine waist accentuating the delicate swaying of her hips, a short but otherwise unremarkable skirt. My eyes continued downwards, down her slim legs clad in flesh-coloured tights, down to her shoes. Wonderful shoes, shoes of dreams, the finest of fine stiletto heels, just about as high as you can ever hope to see in real, day-to-day life. Entranced, captivated, I still found time to wonder why she was travelling in such unlikely shoes? Maybe her lover was waiting at the exit, waiting to take her in his arms, blown away by her beauty. I certainly would have been. Maybe he would barely even notice her feet, what a waste. Maybe she had left her lover at whatever city she started from, and was cursing her shoes and the discomfort they must surely give ever since. Maybe, well not really, it's incredibly unlikely, but it makes a lovely dream, maybe she was doing it for herself, relishing the little twinge of discomfort with every step, finding the walk from the plane to a waiting taxi longer with every step but still turned on by the increasing pain of each of them. While I was thinking all this she lifted her foot and it was like a lightning strike direct to my senses, the glimpse of her instep, then another, then another with each step. I had been about to overtake her, but I dropped back a few yards so I could appreciate this instant vision of loveliness. In an instant I had a huge erection, swelling inside my trousers, tormenting me as I walked. I would have followed her to the end of the universe. In reality I followed her as far as I could, but airports are very practical places and at some point she went one way and I went another, and that was the last I saw of her. In my mind I can still see her feet lifting rhythmically in front of me, a little glimpse of nylon-covered instep, a tiny wobble at each step, my cock rubbing against my underpants, me keeping a discreet twenty feet behind her, longing to throw myself down and worship her.
But it all stayed a dream. Women who think of feet as anything but a way to stop themselves falling over are rare indeed. They wear sexy shoes, they paint their toenails, they wear sexy stockings and tights, but still feet are as sexy as elbows to them. They do it from some deep-seated, unthinking instinct of what a man will like, but to them it means nothing. Of all my girlfriends, from one-night stands to long relationships, none has thought it anything but odd, maybe endearingly odd but still odd, that I should want to see her feet or plant a sneaky kiss there. Until this time.
I was working for a sort of bank in London. Boring, boring. Loads of dull guys in suits, and dull, if young and available, chicks in business gear. The occasional one-nighter but they were all so uptight and career-focussed that I could never be bothered to take it any further. I was feeling pretty down anyway, I'd split up with a girl not long before, we'd once been madly in love and it was still mostly quite good but, well, it got old and we both knew it, and then she met someone and it just didn't seem worth trying to breathe any more life into it. But I was bored, and to be truthful lonely, I missed her even though I had no illusions. Life was just a drag, making good money writing software for their bank, tube out to my place in the suburbs in the evening, TV, pizza, off to bed for a wank and back again tomorrow. It wasn't quite as bad as it sounds, but it wasn't great either.
Then one day, walking down a hallway, distracted, thinking of anything but my surroundings, suddenly, wow! Just in front of me was a petite Japanese girl - we had some link-up with a big Japanese bank so there were quite a few of their people, nearly all guys of course. As she walked, a memory returned. Half-hidden under her trousers, each step showed a flash of sole and instep that brought my mind back in an instant - and my cock very nearly as quickly. Her shoes were very modest, very reasonable, very Japanese banker. Stiletto heels, but only a couple of inches, not at all the stuff of the fetish world. Yet still the same narrowing instep, revealing a broad strip of her foot on each side. I barely noticed her, but every detail of her shoe and foot was instantly etched into my mind. She wore black tights, a little worn, not brand new. Her shoes had the sexiest of all sexy straps, a narrow band around her ankle connected by a thin strip to the heel. Then nothing except that wonderful instep all the way down to a minimal, slightly pointed toe. They were everyday shoes, at a glance I saw that they had been back and forth on the tube a hundred times, polished from time to time, the leather worn and creased but still respectable. The image of her feet and the shoes was burned forever in my mind. Part of me wanted to throw myself down, hold her, smother her foot and her instep with kisses, lick her and savour her. But another part of me wanted to keep my job. I followed her down the corridor until she turned off into an office area. I'm not ashamed to say that my next stop was the toilet, for a quick one. I imagined kissing those wonderful insteps, feeling the rough nylon, tasting her, I was rock hard though not for long. I'm ashamed to say that I had no idea of the rest of her, a vague idea of nape-length hair and a dark trouser suit, no more.
I looked out for her but I didn't see her again for several days. Then I found myself next to her waiting for the lift. The same shoes, better exposed since she was wearing a skirt, the same black tights. I found something to say her and, well, to cut a long story short, it took me a week or so to pluck up the courage to ask her out for a drink. She was called Yuko, quite a common girl's name in Japan apparently. She was a wonderful person to talk to, with her exotic accent and demure Japanese manner. I really liked her straight away and we got on really well. She was really smart, almost frighteningly so, marching her way up the career ladder. She'd been to Tokyo University - kind of like Oxford, Cambridge and Yale all rolled into one in the Japanese scheme of things - and then spent a year at Harvard. She had an intelligent opinion about absolutely everything, a wild imagination and a vicious sense of humour. After a few casual dates - drinks after work, a curry or two - I could almost have forgotten why I was so crazy to meet her in the first place. After all it's difficult (at least I think it is) to find a way to ask a girl to let you kiss her feet and lick her instep. And I think we both held back from jumping into bed because you soon learn what a mess this can be with people you work with. Then it just all kind of happened. It was maybe our fifth date - well, drink after work, that's all. She was wearing those same shoes, the same tantalizing, maddening flash of nylon-covered foot with every step. She had gone out for a pee, and as she came back I must have been staring at her feet. As she sat down she said something like, "What's up? These old shoes? I know, they're so worn-out, but they're so comfortable, in the City and so on. I'm so sorry". She giggled as she spoke, and covered her mouth the way Japanese girls do. I found her beautiful. She had quite short hair, dyed fashionably a bit lighter than natural, and a perfectly formed round face, just the slightest pointiness to her chin. I would have kissed her even if she didn't have such pretty feet! I'd already had enough to drink to loosen my tongue.
"You know, you have beautiful feet, and your shoes are perfect." I hadn't had quite enough to drink to go on and say how much I wanted to kiss them. But I needn't have worried, because the conversation soon led that way all by itself.
"Do you think my feet are sexy?"
I nodded. "I really like these shoes, that's why I keep wearing them. They make my feet look sexy and yet they're really comfortable. I think feet are ever so sexy, but I think I'm a bit strange". She giggled again in her enchanting Japanese way. I admitted that I'd been turned on by her feet the first time I saw her.
"You know, I love the way your shoes look, the sexy way I can see your feet peeping out from behind". She smiled and laughed some more, and twisted in her chair so she could put her foot in my lap. I ran my fingers along the side of her instep. "Like this". Then both her feet were in my lap and I was caressing them, the rough-smooth nylon under my fingertips, squeezing and teasing her flesh. "I love wearing heels, but it's just too painful to walk about all day in heels. I wish I could, I wish I could walk all day in huge heels, but it just hurts too much". I said nothing, just continued to caress her feet. She has beautiful feet, with a baby-like shape and tiny toes. And beautiful, fine ankles. My god, she's beautiful.
"Oh, that feels so good", she said. She wasn't quite ticklish, but her foot wriggled with pleasure as I caressed her. As I rubbed her feet, I felt her heel digging into my giant erection, pressing and teasing. That was no accident. Then she lifted her foot to my mouth and I kissed the toe of her shoe, and dared a kiss to her foot. We were in a dark corner of the crowded pub, but it wasn't long before it kind of became obvious that we needed to go somewhere more private, and quickly. We let ourselves back into the office. By now it was completely deserted. We snuck into the visitor's bathroom behind reception. Being a bank, this was a very impressive thing, not just a toilet but a room the size of a small apartment. In other words, just perfect. It even had a huge, soft sofa. She sat on the sofa and unstrapped one shoe, unbuttoned my trousers and pulled them down, and pushed me to the ground. She pressed her stockinged foot to my hard, naked cock and started rubbing, then offered the other foot, still shod, to my mouth. I grabbed her ankle and pressed the sole of her shoe to my mouth, kissing and licking. I ran my tongue along the delicious margin of flesh under her instep, poking its tip into the tight gap against her shoe, savouring the earthy saltiness of her foot and texture of the nylon. She pressed harder and harder on my cock and I'm afraid that within seconds I lost all resistance and came, my cum soaking her foot, my mouth still paying homage to her.
She didn't even hesitate, but swapped the positions of her feet. Now her stockinged foot was over my mouth. I plunged my tongue into the gaps between her toes, licked ravenously at her sole. For the first time ever I tasted my own cum and felt its stickiness in my mouth. I was prepared to be revolted but it wasn't that bad, and anyway I was overwhelmed by other things. At the same time she pressed the sole of her shoe hard on my softened cock, rolling it around against my body until very soon it was hard again. This time I lasted for a bit longer, in heaven as I grasped her beautiful, delicate ankle and worshipped her foot with my lips and tongue, feeling the hardness of her leather sole rubbing at my cock, pressing my tongue into the crevices between her toes against the tautness of the nylon. Finally though it was too much again, and I spurted out under her shoe. She didn't stop pressing on me, but rubbed some more, rolling my rapidly softening cock around in its own juices for a while. Then she swapped her feet again and pressed the cum-soaked sole to my face.
"Lick. Go on, lick it all off, lick my shoe, I want to feel your tongue on my shoe and on my foot". I couldn't believe this was happening. I licked the rough, worn leather of her sole, licking my cum, not just a hint now but a thick layer, tasting its salty bitterness. Then I changed position, knelt over her and put my tongue to work on her shoe, tasting and feeling the dullness, leather mixed with her taste, savouring the hard edge of the leather contrasting with the buttery softness of her flesh. I gorged on her like this for what seemed like ages. I noticed her slip one hand inside her wasitband, out of the corner of my eye I could see a finger working under her pants. To my surprise my cock began to harden one more time.
"Come on, big boy, my turn." She jumped down and gave me a big sloppy kiss, her tongue probing my mouth hungrily. She turned around and took me into her mouth, sucking expertly until I was really hard again. Then she leapt back up, leaned over the back of the sofa, and pushed her pants and tights down around her thighs, spreading her legs as wide as she could. There was no no need to wonder what she wanted! I couldn't resist pushing my face up to her exposed pussy, I just love giving tongue. She was sopping wet, juice streaking her thighs, and I pushed my mouth up against her. She had a wonderful perfume of woman and cunt and a tang of piss. I teased her labia into my mouth, took her clit between my lips and lapped at her, feeling her thighs tremble and squeeze. For a moment I took my tongue away and ran it the whole length of her slit and back between her slightly parted cheeks, over the wrinkles of her anus. I felt her tremble some more, so I pushed my tongue into her, tasting the bitterness of her other opening. Then I returned to her clit until she moaned to me, "Please, inside me, now". I stood and pushed deep into her. She had a wonderful bottom, narrow hips, curves where they should be and her beautiful olive skin, I pushed her shirt up and held her tight around the waist pulling her onto me and lifting her slightly off the floor. As I thrust into her, she rubbed herself and within no time was gasping in Japanese, incomprehensible to me, and crying out. I felt her squeezing me tight in her ecstasy. I could not come that quickly, in fact I was amazed I could even get hard again - this was the first time I'd ever done it three times in quick succession. I continued to thrust and I could feel the pressure very slowly building inside me. By the time I was ready to come again, she was past her third orgasm and building up for the fourth. When finally I made it, tugging her extra hard onto my cock, she seemed to explode with pleasure, screaming in Japanese for what seemed like an age. Thank goodness the building was empty at this late hour.
We collapsed together into a hot, soaking heap on the sofa, our clothes all over the place, gasping for breath. We held each other tight and kissed. The muscles in my groin ached like I've never felt before. Eventually we got our breath back, pulled our clothes back on somehow, and staggered outside to look for a taxi. In as few words as possible, she had invited me back to her place. On the way she said,
"You know, I have to tell you something. Probably you won't believe me. But I've never done anything like that before". Well, I believed her, but I was pretty surprised, given how good at it she was. After all, it's not very common. "I thought about it a lot, I've, you know, touched myself while I thought about my foot on a man, hard like that. I suppose that's why it was so easy. I've never met a man like you though." I told her how gorgeous she was, and I confessed how much I like pretty feet, how I'd fallen for her when I first saw her in that hallway. We kissed and cuddled and soon we arrived. She had a tiny apartment in the Docklands, about ten floors up. It was hardly bigger than a hotel room, but anyway she didn't give me a tour. We were exhausted, we took our clothes off and fell into bed together. Some time during the night we woke up and made love in a more normal sort of way before falling back to sleep.
By the time we both woke up in the morning it was broad daylight, streaming in over the river through the picture window of the bedroom. I pulled the quilt back to look at her body. I was still stunned by how beautiful she was, and not just her feet either. She had a perfect round face, deep, dark eyes, a dainty little chin, a long, long neck, tiny but perfect breasts with incongruously dark and large nipples, that I just had to lick and suck as I looked at them. They stiffened instantly, and experimentally I took them gently in my teeth. She shuddered and, as I took the other nipple between my fingers, she started to thrust and put a finger down to herself. "Later", I said, "I want to look at you first and see how beautiful you are". She sighed and spread herself out for me, her olive skin contrasting with the whiteness of the sheet and the black of her neatly-trimmed pubic hair. I ran my tongue down her belly, past her slight waist, carefully avoiding her pussy - for now - and running down the inside first of one thigh, then the other, then on down, inside her knee, and on to her perfect feet. Her nails were painted bright red and I ran my tongue around the base of each of them, all ten, feeling the contrast between the tough smoothness of the lacquered nail and the softness of her skin. I nibbled at her toes, running my tongue over the base of each cleft. Her naked feet, still unwashed from yesterday, had a sharp, animal taste, I loved it. I've kissed a girl's feet before, but never someone who loves it and just wants more like she did.
But we were both starving, since the only thing we'd eaten last night was each other. Yuko padded around naked, getting together the usual breakfast stuff which she brought back to the bedroom on a tray. I went to the bathroom. When I came back she said, "Do you like this?". She was wearing a red silk kimono, open at the front showing her belly and her pussy to great advantage, and best of all, a pair of clear plastic mules, with impossible stiletto heels. I'd never seen them before in real life, only in pictures of porn stars. I was incoherent. I managed "Wow!" or something like that, then I just stood and stared.
"Do you like them? I saw them in a shop and I just couldn't resist, but I've never dared wear them to go out. Sometimes I put them on in the evening indoors. Then, well, I end up, you know, touching myself". Which she did, pushing her hand seductively down her belly and stretching a finger to her clit. I fell to my knees and grabbed hold of her bottom, pulling her to me and taking her pussy into my mouth. My poor exhausted cock was rock hard again. Soon she was close to orgasm, but she pushed me down hard. "Go on, kiss my toes, worship my beautiful shoes", she murmured. Well, since she insists! I kissed each of her pretty toes, running my tongue between them, licking the arch of her foot, kissing her ankles and running my tongue along the sides and curling around under her feet. Then I went to her shoes, licking the clear plastic heels and the thick platform soles before returning to her toes. Soon she started to gasp, her finger was still at work and suddenly she yelped and fell back sobbing onto the bed. She rolled over onto her belly, spreading her legs, and I pressed my tongue there, plunging it inside her. She was still unwashed from last night, tasting of fresh sex and old sex and piss and cum all mingled together. I couldn't resist bringing my tongue back to her pretty pink anus, plunging it in there too.
"Go on, big boy, take me there, fuck me in the ass" (the last with a mock American accent which on top of her Japanese made me smile). So I licked her some more, to make sure she was really wet, put lots of saliva on my cock, and pressed myself into her. At first it was easy, then she squealed as it went deep into her. I started thrusting. At first her moans sounded as if it was hurting, but when I stopped she said again, "Go on, fuck me in the ass, give it to me baby" (still with her fake American accent). So I did, and she rubbed herself, and very quickly she started screaming and sobbing even louder than before. I felt her sphincter clamping me tight. But since I'd already come five times in the last twelve hours, I had plenty of staying power so I just kept going, a bit harder. She stopped screaming now and just made a steady, continuous noise, a sort of howl. The second time she came I was really worried that she'd die. She was screaming in Japanese, which I took to mean "No, no, please don't stop", so I didn't. The third time she came, I did too. It wasn't the first time I'd tried anal sex, but it was the first time she begged me for it and the first time I saw a girl enjoy it so much. As we lay together afterwards I asked, "Is it always that good? Is that your favourite way?".
"I was a virgin", she said, and giggled. "Nobody ever did that to me before. I've never dared to ask. I thought it would hurt. Well, it did hurt, at first, a tiny bit. Now it's my pussy that hurts, I've never come that hard before". Our breakfast was still waiting - the whole thing had only taken us a few minutes, so even the coffee was still warm. Afterwards we dozed some more, not waking up again until nearly lunchtime. Yuko stood up, her kimono still rumpled around her where she had fallen asleep in it. "How about a guided tour of my place?". I must have looked surprised. I mean, you got a guided tour by glancing through the front door: small living room, bedroom, tiny kitchen, contract furniture identical to hundreds of other apartments in the same block. And she was evidently treating it like a hotel room, there was none of her own stuff on show, except a small framed picture of what I took to be her parents, and a couple of tiny Japanese ornaments. There were just two good things about the place (three, if you counted Yuko) - the huge windows that gave both rooms a view across the river, and the super-comfortable king-size bed. "No, silly, not the apartment. I mean, it's really boring. I mean my stuff. I'll show you all my treasures but you have to make me a promise". I nodded, I was in love with her and I would have agreed to anything. "Promise me we'll go out this afternoon and you'll buy me another pair of shoes, the sexiest ones we can find". Well, that wasn't hard.
She opened the built-in wardrobe. The whole bottom part was full of shoe-racks, stuffed with shoes of all kinds. "This is my, erm, treasure trove". (With her Japanese accent that sounded very exotic - goodness knows where she learned the phrase, unless she was reading pirate stories or something). "Half of these shoes I'd never dare to wear outside, I just love to buy them and feel how sexy they are on my feet". She reached in and took out a pair, black leather pumps with a peep-toe, enormous stiletto heels, and a double ankle-strap as narrow as could be. "This is my latest pair. They're beautiful, aren't they?" I nodded, just about speechless. To say I couldn't believe my luck would be a hopeless understatement. "I bought them last week, they cost a fortune. I wore them all day Sunday until my feet really hurt. Would you like to put them on for me?" She handed them to me. They were made of the finest black Italian leather, the soles still unscuffed, still with that instant turn-on new leather smell. I thought of her beautiful feet filling them all day Sunday - I imagined her teetering about in them, I tried to think what I'd been doing and in a way I was jealous and disappointed that I hadn't been there to see. She perched on the edge of the bed and I kissed her bare feet. I slipped on first the left shoe and then the right. They were a tight fit and had to be eased on gently, until her two first toes were peeping cheekily out of their openings. I fastened all four of the ankle straps, which were tiny and very fiddly, and only then did I take each foot in turn and smother them in kisses, her toes, plunging my tongue into the cleavage alongside her big toe, kissing the top of her foot, slipping the tip of my tongue into the tiny gap between the straps to lick at her delicate skin. She jumped up and strutted up and down as if she was on a catwalk, in the tiny space available. The tension in her legs was obvious, her calves stretched tight, little dimples appearing in her bottom as she struggled for balance. She motioned to me to lie down on my back, then standing with one foot between my thighs she placed the other delicately on my cock and started rubbing. The hard leather was still shiny and smooth, catching slightly on my dry skin. "Looks like we need a little lubrication", she said, twisting round so she could hold the sole over my mouth. I licked until it was wet all over and she returned to my cock, rubbing round and round until she stumbled and I jumped up, taking her in my arms, hugging her soft body to me and kissing her. We fell back onto the bed one more time, but soon she stood up again and said, "Come on, we can't stay here all day, we have things to do, shoes to buy". She walked around getting ready. Every step she took in the heels was perfect, a harmony of balance and poise. I watched, entranced, as she did all the things women do before they go out: hair, makeup, mysterious fiddling with her handbag, all the while balancing her perfect legs on her perfect feet in her wonderful shoes. Getting ready wasn't too hard for me, since I only had the clothes I'd been wearing to work yesterday - suit, white shirt, not at all suitable for the weekend. I shaved with one of those airline kits, that she had lying about.
Finally she was ready to go out. She was so beautiful, I think I may have said that already but she was overwhelming. She was wearing just a short white cotton dress, simple enough yet certainly something very expensive. Her breasts were uncovered inside the dress, as she was dressing she said, "The good thing about small tits is I can just let them hang loose, it feels great, I hate wearing a bra". She had a tiny white thong, and her new high heels.
Just as we were about to leave, she said, "Do you think I should wear my tart shoes instead? I'd never dare to on my own, but with you it seems OK". I honestly couldn't answer. I was practically coming in my pants at the sight of her in the leather shoes, but then I would be with the others too. Seeing my hesitation, she opened her purse and took out a coin. "Heads I change, tails I go out like this". She tossed it, looked, and without another word sat on the bed and held her feet out. I knelt at her feet again and kissed them, then eased off her amazing black stilettos. Her feet had a wonderful perfume and taste, of freshly-showered skin and talc and new leather. I kissed them, then kissed my way up her calves and her thighs. She reached down and pushed her thong down her legs. "You know, with those shoes I think I should have 'no panty' ". (She said that as if it was Japanese, like the bars they supposedly have in Tokyo with mirrored floors and no-panty hostesses for the businessmen). I couldn't resist, I pressed my face to her pussy again and started nuzzling her. "Oh please no, no more, I'll die if I come again". I didn't really believe her so I carried on. She pushed my head away but then she fell back on the bed and pulled me back to her. "Go on, big boy, I just can't resist it". So I made her come one more time. I was really hard too but my groin still ached and I didn't mind waiting. She was a lot less explosive this time, just a long groan that sounded as if she was in pain - which maybe she was given all the exercise her pussy muscles had got lately. Then we called a taxi, she slipped on her clear plastic "tart shoes" and we left. Her flat was almost over the train station, but walking the long corridors of the tube was out of the question in her heels. The look she got from the taxi driver was just the first of many that afternoon.
Our first stop was Bond Street. All the way there she sat sideways with her feet in my lap, teasing at my cock as I caressed her toes, ran my fingers along her soles, teased her ankles and legs. Once or twice (well, maybe a little more than that) I stooped down to plant a kiss. Her pussy was on open exhibition as well, and with my hand on her thighs I could slip a finger into her slit. Her little button was rock hard and somewhere around the Tower I brought her to yet another orgasm, keeping her quiet by suffocating her with a long kiss as she sobbed silently. She retaliated by squeezing my cock harder with her shoe until I too came, suffocated in turn by her kiss.
We strutted into Russell & Bromley, heads turning with every pace. She could take only tiny steps, as she said like a geisha, because otherwise the shoes would fall off. I could tell that nothing there was really getting her attention, but eventually she picked up a simple pair of red strappy sandals. The assistant who served her was a young girl, maybe seventeen, slim and pretty in a mock-sophisticated kind of way. She led Yuko to a seat. "Oh my god, those are wonderful. Wherever did you get them? How can you walk in them?" she asked in the inevitable Estuary. Then she looked up and couldn't avoid seeing the little display between Yuko's thighs. She couldn't stop herself in time, "Oh, you slut!" she said, but in a tone of real admiration. She looked from Yuko's pussy, to Yuko's face, and then to me with a look that said clearly "You lucky bastard, I bet you don't deserve her". But Yuko squeezed my hand and looked at me with a smile that said "Oh yes he does". In any case we gave the assistant something to talk about, I can just imagine her with her mates in the pub, "You should've seen them shoes, and then she's got no knickers and her cunt is just like staring at me, well, I didn't know where to look". We didn't buy the shoes. As we left the shop she whispered in my ear, "I feel so sexy, I've never done anything like this before".
"You mean you didn't work in a no-panty bar back in Japan?" She giggled. "Not really, Tokyo University students don't do that kind of thing!".
We walked from shop to shop, heads turning everywhere to admire Yuko's teeny steps and her beautiful legs, her feet and those killer shoes. Once she teetered into a little alleyway, dragging me behind her, and said to me, "Go on, kiss them, I dare you". I didn't really care about being seen anyway, I crouched down and picked up each foot in turn, smothering them in licks and kisses. By now they were damp and slippery with sweat, and tasted delicious. As I stood up she took her turn to crouch, unzipped my trousers and took my hard-on in her mouth. I was still sticky from the taxi, but she sucked me clean and soon I filled her mouth. I'd lost count of the number of times I'd come since last night, ten times more than I would ever have thought possible. She bobbed back up and gave me a cum-filled kiss before we returned to the duty at hand. But in the end she couldn't find anything worth buying there. We set off for Kings Road. We sat on facing seats on the tube, her feet and shoes in my lap as I caressed them.
We visited a few shops and boutique type places before we lucked out. The shoes she finally selected were beautiful beyond belief, the most incredibly delicate strappy sandals, in a light green leather that was the perfect contrast to her olive skin. They had a medium high heel, the finest stiletto possible, one extra-fine strap across the toes, and an equally fine anklet strap joined to the shoe by another fine strap running down the back of her heel. The guy who served us was as gay as they come, but I could see that even he was interested in her lovely feet in those shoes. As I paid he said to me, "Well, Sir is a lucky man, that colour is just so perfect with her pubes, doesn't Sir think?" Yuko was unembarassable, and just turned and gave me a big smacky kiss, still tasting of cum.
We had one more stop to make, because she said, "You need some clothes too, we can't go around all weekend looking like you've just popped out of the office". I think that was an invitation. Anyway we found a shop where she bought me a great outfit, trousers and a shirt, that somehow looked better on me than anything I'd ever owned before. We left with my suit in the carrier bag, and took a taxi back to her place. "Thanks you for my lovely shoes, believe it or not I don't have anything this colour and they just look so good on me". I didn't disagree. We realised we were ravenous, by now it was mid-afternoon and we had eaten nothing except a tiny breakfast (and each other) for a whole day. We redirected the taxi to Brick Lane, to a Bangladeshi restaurant that we'd been to once. The staff were pretty surprised, since I guess they had only ever seen Yuko in her dull business clothes before. They almost literally fell over themselves to show us to table. We ate well, with the best service ever, and I think if they could have tipped us they would have. Then another taxi back to her place. By now we were quite literally shagged out. We took a long, long bath each, though not before I had licked her feet completely clean. They had a delicious grubbiness to them, especially when I licked between her toes, collecting the grainy mixture of sweat and tiny flakes of shed skin and street dirt. Where the strap of her tart shoes had passed, the skin was compressed and along the edges rubbed red and almost raw. I licked along those lines over and over, with their blood taste of soreness, until they had almost disappeared. I massaged her soles and the muscles along the tops, with my tongue, my lips and my fingers, knowing that high heels really take their toll there. Once they were really clean, she said, "That's enough. But I bet you'd like to lick my shoes clean too, go on". So I did, savouring the trace of her that remained on the hard, shiny plastic. "You were wonderful", I told her. "Surely your feet must have hurt?" "My feet hurt a bit, where you just licked them and underneath where your fingers were like magic. My legs really hurt a lot by the end, but it was worth it. I've never felt so sexy in my life".
After our baths we cuddled up on the sofa and watched television, something stupid that we ignored anyway. We talked about all the kinds of things lovers do, what we'd done and where we'd been and what we thought about things, and we kissed and nibbled each other's bodies. I'd been so occupied with her feet that I'd been ignoring all her other beautiful bits, her tiny tits and giant (relatively anyway) nipples, her long, dainty neck, even her ears and her nose. And her bottom, her beautiful bottom with its delicate curves and the little ridges where it joined up with her back and the mysterious slit that I opened up to kiss between her cheeks. We were both excited but just too exhausted to do anything about it. She told me how sexy the afternoon had felt for her, how she wouldn't dare do that on her own, but with me it made her feel strong and powerful as well as sexy, like some girl super-hero from a Japanese comic book. Long after dark, we were both hungry again. Getting dressed was easy for me, no big decisions required since I only had one set of clothes, but she disappeared into the bedroom for a while. She called out to me, "Will you find my feet sexy whatever I wear?" Of course I would, although privately I supposed it would be hard if she wore hiking boots. She reappeared in tight blue jeans, a white tee-shirt (still no bra) and an exquisite black leather jacket that must have cost a fortune. And her shoes were simple gym shoes, not trainers but the old-fashioned kind, in bright pink with little green and yellow flowers. "Well, are these sexy?" she asked. The truth is that I would never have found them sexy if Yuko hadn't been wearing them, but on her, well, my cock gave me the answer. Straight away. To show her what I thought, I knelt down and kissed them, then licked the bare skin around the top. "Enough", she said, and as I settled back on the sofa she said "Hands on your head". I was surprised but I obeyed anyway. She unzipped me again, taking out my hard-on, and instead of sucking me as I expected, she licked her hand and started to toss me. She was expert, she'd obviously done it plenty before. When she sensed I was close to coming she slowed down and reminded me to keep my hands on my head, prolonging my orgasm as long as she could before I spurted over her hand. Then she lifted her tee-shirt and rubbed my cum into her tits, slowly and lovingly, paying special attention to her nipples until they were as hard as my cock had been.
"OK, big boy, keep your hands on your head and suck my tits until I come". Mmm, how could I resist. I took her nipples in my mouth and sucked and nibbled at them, with their clean-body taste mingled with cum (to think I'd never tasted cum 24 hours earlier). At first I thought she must be joking, because nothing much was happening, but then her back started to arch, her thighs started to thrust, and to my amazement after a few more minutes she really did come, gently but unmistakably, before giving a huge sigh of contentment and falling across my lap. Once she had recovered she disappeared into the bedroom again. When she returned she was wearing the shoes we had just bought together. She giggled and said, "I was just testing you. You passed. You must really be a prince, like in the fairy story. Let's go." I didn't even have time to kiss her toes before she led us out of the apartment. We took the funny Docklands train to a place across the river. I wasn't exactly jealous but at the same time I couldn't help wondering, "Is that how you got all your sexy shoes? I mean getting some luckless dupe like me to buy them for you in exchange for a kiss?"
She laughed out loud, the first time I'd heard, a long liquid gurgly laugh that made my heart turn to liquid. She grabbed my head and kissed me, nibbling my lips until I could taste blood and was running out of breath. She dug her nails into my earlobes until it really hurt, still covering my mouth with hers. Finally she stopped and gasped for breath. "You silly boy. You didn't really think that, did you? I bought all of them myself, with my very own hard-earned cash. I've never met anyone like you before, never, ever, not in Japan and not in England, and not in America either when I was there. And not just the way you love my feet, everything. You know, I think I love you". That was good, because I loved her too, and I told her so, in words as well as with my lips. I forget all about what we did after that, at least until we ended up back in her bed.
On Sunday morning we just made love the normal way, naked, missionary position, kissing, moving slowly, savouring it, making it last, until eventually my last few drops of cum flooded into her and she had one of her long groan orgasms. (Funny to think that after two days I could catalogue the ways she came). Then we did normal lover type things for the rest of the day. We went for a walk in the local park, and this time she really did wear her pink gym shoes, and they looked gorgeous with a pair of pink shorts, not quite short enough to be called hot-pants, showing off her thighs and her calves. In the early evening we made love, normal soft slow sexy sex, one more time - although I did nibble her toes a bit, they had another new taste of canvas and slightly stale sweat from her gym shoes, and that made me hard too.
Then it was time for me to go back home, to my dull empty flat, since I had to work tomorrow. I'm used to a sexy weekend followed by a return to my own empty place, it's an inevitable part of the bachelor life, but it had never felt this empty before. The whole of my groin area ached as if it had run a marathon - which it had, kind of. My heart and mind were full of Yuko, my lovely sexy Yuko with her beautiful feet and her amazing shoe collection and her entrancing Japanese accent and her laugh and her mind too, because she is a lovely wonderful brilliant woman on top of everything else. Yuko, I love you.