Kinky Boots

I was still unsure what was happening. Was this some elaborate joke? Was she a prick-tease? Would my wife be waiting for me? Will she really ‘dress up’ for me? Will she really be there? Will I fuck her brains out? Is it all a dream?
I was confused, but too horny to care! I booked a hotel, (two rooms!) and a restaurant, in the, now trendy, Docks area. I sent a text message, letting her know the details of the hotel.

I arrived at 5.30, and had to go into the bathroom, with a copy of Hustler, for a wank. When I’d finished, I felt a lot more relaxed.
Ring, Ring. The phone rang. I stared at it. “Hi. Paul! I’m downstairs, have you got my boots?” 
“Yes. Stay there. I’ll bring them down.”

With a heavy heart, but a smile on my face, I walked downstairs.
When she saw me, her face lit up. Clutching her hands to her chest, she danced a little jig.
Nicole looked even younger than I remembered, incredibly pretty, shoulder-length blonde hair, tight jeans. Her tiny tits, which appeared to be held up with a Wonderbra, were peeping out of a floral shirt. 

“I’m so excited! You’ve got my boots!” She squealed. Other people in the reception area were now looking at us. I suddenly felt quite proud, to be seen with her. 
“Let me see! Let me see!” She grabbed the large box from my hands. Dropping the lid to the floor, she gasped “Wow! They’re gorgeous! I love them!” as she stroked the leather. Remembering where she was, she looked around, grinned and shrugged her shoulders, at the other guests. “Oops! Sorry.”
“Would you like a drink, while you calm down.” I suggested.

In the bar she took a seat while I bought the drinks. 
Still stroking them, she purred, “They’re just what I wanted. I can’t wait to try them on. Can I try them now?”
“Well, you’d have to take your jeans off, wouldn’t you?” I joked, “But if you must!”
Slapping my thigh, she whispered, “You’re very naughty, I should punish you!”

As we finished our drinks, we agreed to meet, back at the bar at 7.30.
I was standing at the bar when she made her entrance, and I swear 24 men went silent.
“What do you think?” She asked me, as she stood, posing, in the doorway. She ‘wafted’ her hands down her small body, directing my eyes over every inch, ending at her legs, which were now encased in her shiny black boots.

“WOW!” was all I could manage. 
Nicole looked absolutely gorgeous, and she knew it. Her slim legs encased in the long boots, and she was dressed in a, very short denim skirt and black leather Gucci jacket, her blonde hair glistened in the neon light. Her lips had just the right amount of red lipstick, which she lightly ran her tongue over. 
Her skirt was so short, I joked, “I hope that you’re wearing clean knickers, under there!”

“Who said I’m wearing any knickers!” She laughed as she put her hands on my cheeks and pulled my face toward her, and planted a kiss on my lips. “Thanks, the boots are just, so nice. I don’t know how to thank you.” Her eyes sparkled, as she wiped the excess lipstick from my face.
I still couldn’t tell how serious she was. She must know the effect that she was having on me, mustn’t she? Yet, to look at her, she could still have been the model of innocence.

“I’m sure we’ll think of a way.” I half-heartedly laughed. She seemed to ignore the comment.
We finished our drinks, and went for a meal. Nicole chatted about work, her family, her dog and just about everything under the Sun, while I just listened. My eyes flicked around, and every man, in the room, was staring at her, especially when she would kick her leg out, to take yet another look at her boots.
My heart was pounding and my palms were beginning to sweat as I tried to appear cool and sophisticated.

The men in the bar all looked disappointed, and a little bit jealous, as we made our way out, when we finished our meal. “They were staring at us, weren’t they?” Nicole whispered, as she took hold of my jacket. “Not us. You.” I whispered back.
“He, he, he.” She giggled, “Do they think that I’m your mistress?”
“I don’t think so!” I laughed, “Probably my daughter!”
“Ah! I hope not,” Nicole grinned. “Let’s give them something to talk about!” and with that, she linked her arm, tightly, with mine, and splashed a big kiss on my cheek
Back at the hotel I asked if she wanted another drink. 

“No thanks,” she slurred, running her long finger down my chest, “I’m ready for bed!”
The lift was crowded with old women, when we entered, making us squash together.
“Do you really want to take photos of my boots?” She whispered. Shrugging my shoulders, I smiled, and nodded. 
“What will you do with them?” she teased.

I shrugged again. Could I tell the truth? Or should I tell a lie?
Pressing her lips to my ear, she continued, “You’ll wank over them, won’t you!”
SHIT! What could I say?

Ding. The lift arrived at my floor. Nicole took my hand and led me through the old ladies.
“You will, won’t you?” She laughed, as the doors closed. I was blushing. “I don’t know. It depends what sort of pictures you let me take.” I nervously replied.
“Come on then. Which room is yours?” She was virtually dragging me down the corridor.
As I fumbled with the key, she pressed herself against me, and giggled, “This is going to be fun.”
Once inside, I caught my reflection in the mirror. Nothing had changed; I was still a middle-aged man, with more than my fair share of grey hair and a soft beer belly. I couldn’t stop smiling as I fumbled in my bag for my digital camera.

“Are you sure about this?” I gave her one last chance.
“I’ve got to repay you somehow, haven’t I? And, well……it’s a kind of fantasy/ambition of mine.” She blushed slightly, as she said those last words. “I sort of…………wanted to be a model.”

“Ca I choose the poses?” she asked as she pulled the zip down on her jacket, exposing her tiny naked breasts.
“Of course. What do you want to do first?” I asked, staring at her young, firm tits.
She proceeded to stand in front of the mirror, and posed in some cheesy positions, lifting her arms and running her fingers through her hair, making sure that I could see and photograph those lovely breasts.

Slowly she dropped the jacket on the floor. Her milk white breasts looked like tiny pyramids, with the pink nipples pointing upwards, toward the ceiling. I hadn’t seen anything like them for twenty years. Smiling at me, she turned and pressed her tits and face against the mirror. She had done her homework, as some of the poses now looked quite professional. 

I was now kneeling behind her, trying to look up the skirt. 

As she wiggled her arse, she lifted the hem of her skirt, until I could see the tiniest pink G-String in the world, separating two perfect butt cheeks. When the skirt was around her hips, she turned to face me.

The front of the pants was virtually sheer, exposing a thin strip of fluffy, natural blonde pubic hair, shaved into a ‘porn strip’.
Nicole’s eyes were tightly closed, as she teased a rosebud nipple with one hand, and ran the other over the front of her pants.

As she pulled the nylon to one side, she huskily whispered, “Is this what you want to photograph?” giving me a perfect view of her shaved, dripping, cunt.
“God yes!” was all I could utter.

If my cock was hard before, you could cut diamonds with it now!
Beep! Beep! I froze at the sudden noise. The memory card in my camera was full. I had taken all 64 shots.
“Shit! The camera’s full!” I gasped, staring at it, in the divine hope that it would miraculously double it’s memory.
“Never mind. Put it down, and stand there.” Nicole ordered me.
I did as I was told.