Trip To The Store (3 of 3)
story by Anonymous
By the time I gathered all the shoes with extra friends embedded in the insoles, and started walking to the back, I heard water running. When I rounded the corner, Marisa was perched on the counter beside the sink. She had paper towels beside her, and she was soaking her nylons. “Just put those next to me here and relax.”
Marisa pulled up her skirt and hung up her nylons, and then took each shoe as
she scrubbed the insoles, and when she was done she washed her feet. It was
a quick job but thorough. I was surprised when she walloped me across the head
with a few of the shoes; apparently I was still standing next to her and paying
attention to her feet! Marisa the said “Could you dry these out and bring me
another pair?”
I used several sheets of paper towel to dry the insoles as she watched, and
I then brought her a clean pair; some black leather pumps. Marisa then shocked
me again; she put her feet into the pair, sat down on the counter, and then
quickly wrapped her legs around my arms and torso. She then pushed my head down,
and then raised her heels up my back and behind my head and then pulled me towards
her. “Don’t be coy, have a good smell of me.” I didn’t hesitate to breathe in
her aroma, since Marisa was still damp, excited, and willing! I bounced my nose
against the wet crotch panel of her underwear, and as I did Marisa gave out
a little grunt. She asked, “Want some more of that?” as she released me, sliding
her legs down my back again as I stood up.
“Heck, yeah!” was my instant reply.
“Are you as turned on as I am?”
“Well, I didn’t need much help, you know. You are a scorching hot woman, and
right now, you meet my needs!” I rasped out. You’re not going to make me walk
out in public right now, are you?”
“I am hungry. What are you doing for supper?”
I replied, “I have no plans. What are you game for?”
“I know a good deli in the mall, they’re still open. Is that OK?” Marisa asked
with a rather soft voice.
“Sure.”
“You know, haven’t said much about being freaked out at all. Are you still OK
with me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I didn’t want to screw up this good thing, so I tried to
keep my voice as light as possible. “I’ve seen much more violent reactions from
other women who accidentally step on something just once, you don’t seem to
be bothered, and that doesn’t bother me, I don’t feel judgmental about it.”
I said the last part very quickly.
“You seem to be very turned on.”
“Again, you gave some very good & quick incentive to get me into that state.”
I decided to go for broke: “I get very turned on when I see a woman trapping
something in her shoe. You gave me an amazing display of that tonight.”
“Tonight? What about this afternoon?” Marisa had a huge grin on her face.
“Yes,” I drew that out, “I had an amazing display this afternoon as well. What
do you like to do with your prisoners?”
“Squash ‘em flat!” Came the instant response.
“Do you do that with edible things?” I asked.
“What’s your pleasure?” A very saucy grin was on her face.
“I’m fond of small crunchy dill pickles, particularly the deli variety.”
Marisa shrieked, grabbed me by the ears and plunged my head back down between
her legs. Her left hand held the back of my head as her right deftly pulled
aside her panties. “Lick me big boy!” she panted. “I’m fond of pickles too.”
Within a very short period of time (too short!) she gave a loud moan and a drawn
out “Ohhhh!” and a shudder, and she pulled my head up by my hair. Her eyes were
black, she was flushed and she was very wet.
“There’s a small fridge below the counter, I think there’s a jar of dills in
there. Get us out three.” Marisa commanded.
Three?
I bent down and rummaged through the fridge and brought the pickle jar up to
the countertop. Marisa had stood up, leaving my eyes at her crotch. I raised
up the jar to her face and said, “Which ones would you like”
Marisa said in a little girly-girl voice, “Oh, I’ll take one thick one and two
small ones.”
I paid close attention as she took the thickest one she could find, hiked up
her skirt, and slid it inside her underwear and up inside herself. “You’ll have
to steady me for the next two,” she said.
I grabbed her by the hips as she stood in front of me as she picked up each
foot in turn, popped the heel off and slid a small pickle into each shoe under
the ball of her foot. As each shoe returned to the countertop, I noticed that
she leaned back on her heels. She asked, “Do you like the sound of crunching
from my shoes?”
I nodded yes.
“Good, I like the feeling of crunching in my shoes” Marisa added with her mouth
set in a firm line. She slowly shifted her weight forward and I heard the small
pickles crunch as they slowly flattened.
“Wow, you really stretched that out. I’m impressed” I complimented.
I was surprised at her next move. Marisa swung her left leg out and parked her
crotch on my shoulder, wrapping her right leg around me quickly. Back next to
heaven. “Lower me down to the floor.” And I did.
Marisa sashayed her way to the front of the store, and went in behind the counter
and sat down. “Since Chloe bailed on me, and she normally wears these shoes
when she works, I think I’ll leave them on the shoe shelf for her. Come here
and jump up on the counter.”
I jumped up as she asked, and I found I could reach the ceiling.
“Loosen the bulb so it goes out.” She snickered, “Payback’s a bitch!”
I loosened up the strip lighting but not so loose that it would fall out.
Marisa was sitting on the stool looking at me as I jumped back down to the floor.
“There’s a newer pair of shoes in the back room above the counter, I should
have grabbed them before. Can you go back and get them? I’ll wear those tonight.”
“Do you need more pickles?” I asked.
“No, I’m sure we’ll find something at the deli. Wash your face though, only
I should smell like me!”
I quickly washed my face, and sure enough I found a shoebox on the high shelf.
I brought it up to Marisa.
“Did you open it?”
“No.”
“Please check to see if we have any friends in there, as you know, it can happen
in here,” she smirked.
I opened the box, “They look OK.” I took out each shoe and shook the out upside
down. “No surprises.” They were black kid leather pumps with an A-line toe box,
and there was a faint footprint in them.
Marisa dangled her feet as she held her knees up to her chest. “I started breaking
them in last fall and I kinda forgot about them. Do you like?”
“They look very nice.”
“Help me put them on.”
The pumps easily slid onto Marisa’s feet, I never noticed how soft and well
manicured her feet were before.
“OK, let’s go” Marisa grabbed my arm and propelled me towards the door. “I’m
hungry!”
Dinner was a blur of conversation about pets, marriages, and children, with
the pleasant addition of her foot in my lap. At one point during the meal she
relaxed back into her chair for a few minutes saying, “I ate that too fast.”
About a minute later, in an amazing sleight of hand, a pickle appeared on my
plate. The pickle was slightly disheveled and a little worse for wear, smelled
like a pickle and something else familiar.
Marisa smirked at me, “Aren’t you going to eat your pickle?”
I put on a western drawl, “Mamma always told me to finish whatever someone is
nice enough to fix up on your plate. Ah believe ah’ll enjoy this,” and I made
a slow meal out of the pickle with my eyes focused on Marisa’s.
When desserts arrived, her foot left my hand where I was stroking her instep,
and I heard her right a shoe on the floor. I looked at the side of the table
and then noticed her shoe dangling off of her right foot. Marisa was looking
around the restaurant to see if anyone was paying attention, and before I knew
it, she deftly took a forkful of my cheesecake dessert and tucked it into her
shoe! In one fluid motion she changed around and put another fork of my dessert
into her other shoe. She had a merry look in her eyes as she whispered: “Don’t
worry, you’ll get it back”
I retorted, “I guess I’ll need to order that soufflé, I won’t be able to get
up for quite a while without sharing my excitement with anybody who looks at
me!”
Marisa had a devilish smile on her face at this point. “Oh, just hide it under
your jacket, surely you’re not that big!”
“I’ll manage.” I collected the check, paid it off and suggested to Marisa, “I
guess we should go.”
“Where?”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go!” I put on my sly smile.
“OK, let’s go to my place, Chloe shouldn’t be home.”
I watched Marisa’s shoes as we walked out of the restaurant. By the time we
got to the door, my cheesecake had started to poke through her visible toe cleavage,
and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who noticed. The hostess, an older woman,
was also looking at Marisa’s shoes, and noticed the extra as well. She tried
to stop Marisa saying, “Oh, miss, there’s something on your shoes.”
Marisa turned to her and said, “It’s his fault, and he’ll be taking care of
it.” I don’t know who was redder, the hostess or me!
Marisa was pealing with laughter as we stepped outside. “Come on home and help
me out with my shoes…and anything else you’d like to help out with”
“You’re incorrigible!” I ranted.
Marisa cocked an eyebrow at me, and said sternly “You haven’t even tried to
correct me yet.”
“Oh, nononononono! I like you just the way you are. Why would I want to screw
that up? I promise I don’t!” I apologized.
Marisa put her arm around my waist, hugged me, and said up into my ear, “OK,
you can clean me, you have to finish up what you started”
Oh yes!
Cheerfully!
Story posted by Anonymous
on Friday, June 17, 2005 @ 08:33:15 PDT
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