Content: boot worship, boot play, boot fucking, boot licking, dirty talk, wetness, sir/girl, teasing, begging
“Show me,” I say. I look down at her and hold eye contact. She doesn’t look away.
She swallows. “Show you … what, Sir?”
“Show me,” I say again, nudging her cunt with my boot. She’s straddling it, my right boot, the tall knee-high Wescos I got out just for this occasion. Pressing her wet pussy into the leather. “How wet you are.”
She whimpers a little. Both her hands are holding my calf, and she’s on her knees. Her short purple skirt pools around her and I can see her thick thighs, striped red with cane marks that will hopefully be darker tomorrow. Her chest is bare; her little tank top with the thin criss-cross straps is on the floor somewhere, and her tits are so perfect, the curve of them, the shape, the swell, and her pretty hard nipples make my mouth water. She’s already been rocking her hips to rub her clit against the steel toe of my boot, but she shifts her weight into her legs more and starts making bigger movements.
I can feel when she gets just the right spot so her lips open and her wetness slicks my boot; now she glides back and forth even easier. Fuck.
“That’s good. Mmm, very nice. You were already grinding against me, but now it’s so, so wet. Are you dripping for me, dirty girl?”
She whimpers again. “Mm hmm,” she half moans, her eyes closed.
I reach down and grip her hair, and touch my lips to her ear, as I say, “Such a slut, to move your hips like that. Such a slut, to polish my boot with your pussy.”
“Yes, Sir,” she breathes.
“Show me,” I say, using my fist in her hair to move her on my boot, angling the toe of my boot up so she can use the curve of it however it feels good. “How bad you want me.”
She cries out a little, thrusts against me in a way that feels like my toe cap is right at her opening.
“Show me how you want that wet cunt fucked,” I growl. She thrusts again. “Show me how you want my cock.”
“Oh, god,” she moans. “I want it, I want your cock, Sir, please can I have your cock.”
“Yeah? You want it?” I thrust my boot between her legs harder, hold her tight by her hair.
“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir, please fuck me, please I want it,” she begs, as she rocks against me and moans.
“Is your pussy so empty?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Is your throat so hungry?”
She swallows. “Yes, yes, fuck.”
“What do you want inside you, slut?”
“Your cock, Sir, please, please, your cock,” she grips at my calf in the tall boot and grinds with everything she can.
“Did you polish my boot nice and pretty with your wet cunt?”
“Yes, Sir.” She’s quieter, this time; a little embarrassed about how wet she gets.
“Let’s see,” I say, and pull her hair, encouraging her up. She moans a little in protest, but shifts and stands. There’s a dark, wet spot on my boot where she was riding it, even a couple of drips down the side. A growl starts somewhere low in my pelvis.
“Fuck, that’s so good,” I say, in that rumbling voice that I barely recognize, dripping with lust and drive. I pull her to me and kiss her. “That’s so good, for such a messy slut.” She whimpers against my mouth, tongue and lips swollen, slick.
“Now,” I say, holding her for just another few beats in my arms. “Go clean up the mess you made.”
“Oh, god,” she says. I kiss her again, then push her head down toward my boot. She goes down to the floor, all the way on her belly, and starts to lick.
