As I put on my boots to leave, I see your eyes follow. I stop.
"Do you want to help me?" I ask, motioning down. You knees buckle like you were only waiting for my approval, and you start your job.
First you help me slip my heel in, balancing on my cane. Then you slowly lace up every bit, making sure the laces are taut and the leather is tight on my skin. I can see you almost salivating at being that close.
You tie my laces and look up with those pleading eyes. You almost stand up again before I push your head back down.
"You forgot to kiss the tip, lovely. I can't go home without that." I say, lifting my foot up slightly. Your mouth eagerly meets my boot and I watch as your lips purse and part to let your tongue taste the leather.
"Harder." I say, and you make out with my boot like you were making out with me, needy, gripping, full of tongue. I enjoy the show for a second before moving my boot back. "Enough."
You wipe your lips and come up, lust filled eyes meeting my own. I grab your hair and kiss you deeply, and taste my own leather conditioner on your lips. It's sloppy and teeth-filled but we moan throughout, before parting with pants and groans. We seperate, until we meet again.
