The Joy of Tasting Her Shoes

Did you pick this picture as an illustration because the shoes seem identical to a pair I have?

I guess it’s time for another floor show soon. xx

I’ve had that photo for at least two years, maybe more. Out of all the shoe worship photos I’ve seen that one got under my skin somehow.

When I go to visit my mistress and lover, I have some anticipation of what shoes or boots she might be wearing, but am usually surprised at what is on her feet, as I think she likes to not do the obvious. In this way, I have slowly been transformed from a rather traditional black high heeled boot type of fetishist, to one oriented to the eroticisation of what my mistress chooses to wear. Her tastes run from flowery espadrille wedges, to colorful, dirty sneakers, to pink patent, pointy toed flats, to brown suede ankle boots with a side zip and kitten heel, to purple pull on over the knee platform boots, thick, strappy, high heeled sandals, and yes, the traditional fetish garb of black leather boots with heels of varying character and height… sinister to playful.

As I press the doorbell on her apartment, I wait to hear her steps towards the door to buzz me in, over the street noise, and try to visualize what shoes are making that tapping sound on the bare wood floor… soft or hard, sandals, wedges, boots? I can usually tell a high heel from a wedge, but never the exact shoe itself.

She regularly ‘introduces’ me to her shoes as part of our play, telling me where she got them, pointing out their qualities that she likes, and dislikes, posing her feet all the while. Shoes that I am ‘introduced’ to require not only that she orgasm while wearing them, but the foreplay usually involves me sitting or kneeling on the floor before her while I fondle, and caress her shod feet, while we discuss their virtues, and then begin to kiss, lick, and generally savor the sense of losing myself into the thrilling lust of total fetish worship of my mistresses attire, while she runs her hands through my hair, gently pressing me against the objects of my desire. In short, whatever is on her feet is my passion, to place my mouth on, to wet with my tongue, to taste, to lick clean, to smell, to kiss, and to have her watch me in this act of humbling, intimate, worship.

My fetishistic boundaries have been truly stretched by this shift from my personal fantasies to serving the desires of an erotically powerful woman with a playful sense of footwear. Some of her shoes have a rubbery scent and taste, others are more leathery, and some are in between, with my mistresses own salty essence as a part of it. Regardless, great joy is experienced when my tongue is sliding across her straps, soles, soft leather, slippery patent, wedges, high heels, places where her feet have moistened, soiled, and stained through the wearing. I lose myself in the act, and savor the most subtle and intimate flavors and scents of her feet and shoes.

She sometimes triggers my orgasm through the position of her footwear, and the proximity to my mouth and nose, bringing me to rapid ejaculation by rubbing her footwear against my face when she wishes me to orgasm, and keeping them away when she wants to me to keep up a steady rhythm for her own pleasure.

We have over the years evolved a true symbiotic relationship of sorts, where she’s trained me to please her in many ways, with my mouth, my hands, and more traditional means, and because of her own interest in shoes, and my utter, fetishistic, devotion to women’s footwear, we each are fulfilled. She knows that I have an overwhelming desire to lick and smell her shoes and feet, and has made the most of it. As the journey has progressed I’ve come to realize that the act of pleasuring my mistress is the greatest reward. I used to consider myself exclusively a boot, shoe, and foot slave, but I have very much become a pussyslave, and am unbelievably aroused by the taste and smell of her. But that is straying off topic, and I must end this note.