Last Friday night Mr. Nice Guy and I went out on another, quite lovely date.
He has a serious shoe fetish and, a couple of weeks ago, I mentioned that he should take me to Designer Shoe Warehouse (DSW) where I could model shoes for him and he could take pictures.
He went absolutely crazy over the idea. So, last Friday evening he took me out shopping. Let me tell you that it was a lovely diversion from the Mick drama over the past few days.
First, we met in parking lot of the sex shop (Fascinations) near our work. (It’s where we always meet and we joke about it every time because there is a marijuana dispensary right across the street! How fitting, right?)
We wandered through and looked at a couple of toys, I showed him my favorite, the wartenberg wheel; we talked about it… But his main intent was to get some seamed nylons for me to wear for him. (Mr. Nice Guy believes that, if he wants me to wear something specifically, he should just buy it for me. I could get used to that!)
Task accomplished and we were off to the shoe store!
It didn’t take long before he had a stack of boxes in front of me. (BTW, those are not the pantyhose he got for me. Those are laying in wait for next time 😉 )
And, the amazing thing about it was, he didn’t just pick out shoes for me that he would like, he also picked out shoes that *I* would like. In fact, he was an absolutely charming gentleman the entire time. There were a couple of times when he even helped me take a pair off to put another on.
A few times he leaned into me and whispered things like, “You have no idea what this is doing for me right now” and “I did not realize this would arouse me so much” and “Thank you for suggesting this. What a lovely idea!” and “You are so sweet to indulge me like this.”
He ended up buying a pair of patent leather 4-inch stiletto sandals for me!! Unfortunately though, he did not send me a picture of those to share with you.
Once we finished checking out, I realized that we hadn’t even looked at the clearance shoes and insisted that we go back to see if there was anything else he wanted to see or take pictures of (or perhaps I wanted to get for myself).
He went to the restroom while I looked things over.
Now, I’ve never been a high heels kinda girl. I’m already fairly tall at 5′ 8″, but on top of that, I broke my ankle a couple of years ago and I have been leery to wear them since. Also, Mr. Nice Guy is the same exact height as I am, without heels. But, as long as it doesn’t bother him, I will try not to let it bother me.
Anyway, while he was away I found the cutest pair of shoes. Not only were they totally adorable, but they were actually (mostly) comfortable to stand and walk in! I’ve never worn a pair of high heels that were that comfortable and they were so fucking cute!
I absolutely had to buy them!! I stood there and struggled with my conscience for a few minutes… I’m moving, they’re $40, I shouldn’t do this… Blah, blah…
When Mr. Nice Guy returned, I was in the middle of a shoe-gasm and he enjoyed every last second of it.
Eventually, I decided to bite the bullet and just buy them. And, as luck would have it, when we got to the register, they turned out to be only $25.00!! Happy Birthday to me!! ♪ ♫ ♪ ♫
We went for pizza afterwards (we had discussed it earlier that week. I totally LOVE pizza!!).
I was seriously overdressed in my black pantyhose, new leopard heels and little black dress, but it didn’t matter to me one bit because of how Mr. Nice Guy was making me feel the whole time. I felt like I looked so damn good!
There was much weed-smoking in between stops… Before shoes, before pizza…
After pizza, we did what we always do: return to sit in his car, smoke a ton of pot, chat, and let him touch all over my pantyhosed legs.
Except this time he took it a little further. This time he instructed me on what he wanted to hear me say to him:
- I love being your little pantyhose slut
- Kiss mommy’s nyloned knee
- Present my foot to him and ask, Do you like mommy’s new fuck me heels?
The last one was the best
- I will always where pantyhose and high heels every time we fuck
(Wait! What!? We’re gonna get to fuck?!?)
While I sat there being directed, I thought how naturally those words and commands came to him; how he was comfortable enough to let me into his little shoe-kink world. It wasn’t even a year ago that he thought he was strange for his desires…
At one point he grabbed my hand, put it directly on his engorged dick and said, “This is how excited I am right now! Can you feel that? I had no idea I would react this intensely.”
I looked at him and I’m sure he could tell I was pleased, but very shocked, “OMG, Smitten! I think we just crossed a line!”
And on the way home he brought me to Voodoo and bought me donuts!!