I like what I like…
She went on to remind me of our second date, and how under the table at the restaurant, she had shed her shoes; we laughed the night away and went to my place and fucked our brains out.
A buddy casually passed me his phone and asked me what I thought — it was a photograph of a talk, very leggy brunette from behind. She wore magenta panties and a bra with black garterless nylons and magenta shoes to complete the look.
Her arms extended behind her head which I can only imagine accentuated her large, and most likely, fake breasts. I held the phone longer than was socially acceptable and when prodded, returned the phone saying,
“I don’t like the shoes”.
Yvonne taught me about the way of shoes, which as an admirer, was fascinating — she told me of the different types; pumps, kitten heels, ankle strap heels, peep toe heels, stilettos and the corset heel, which turned out to be her favourite. She explained how some covered the toes completely, whereas others exposed toe cleavage. Style, the costume for the day or mood determined the type of heel, but it was what a woman does with her shoes that lets you know how she is feeling.
It had been a couple of days after my initial lesson on shoes when Yvonne drew my attention to a couple at the bar and pointed out how the woman’s shoe had fallen from her heal and dangled; she went on to suggest they’d probably have sex later. She also reminded me of our second date and how, under the table at the restaurant, she had shed her shoes; we laughed the night away and went back to my place and fucked our brains out.
When we play, she is always in heels — they accentuate her long legs and compliment her costumes. We fuck hard when she is in heels but never in our bed. I’ve noticed she always removes her shoes first and now I know why.
It was pointed out I was an idiot and all I said to that was, “I like what I like.”
W
Image: pixabay