By the time I gathered all the shoes with extra friends embedded in the insoles, and started walking to the back, I heard water running. When I rounded the corner, Marisa was perched on the counter beside the sink. She had paper towels beside her, and she was soaking her nylons. “Just put those next to me here and relax.”
Marisa hung up her nylons, and then took each shoe as she scrubbed the insoles, and when she was done she washed her feet. It was a quick job but thorough. I was surprised when she walloped me across the head with a flat; apparently I was still standing next to her and paying attention to her feet! Marisa the said “Could you dry these out and bring me another pair?”
I used several sheets of paper towel to dry the insoles as she watched, and I then brought her a clean pair; some black leather pumps. Marisa then shocked me again; she put her feet into the pair, sat down on the counter, and then quickly wrapped her legs around my arms and torso. She pushed my head down, dragged her heels up my back and behind my head and then pulled me towards her. “Don’t be coy, have a good smell of me.” I didn’t hesitate to breathe in her aroma, since Marisa was still damp, excited, and willing! I bounced my nose against the wet crotch panel of her underwear, and as I did Marisa gave out a little grunt. She asked, “Want some more of that?” as she released me, sliding her legs down my back again as I stood up. “Heck, yeah!” was my instant reply. “Are you as turned on as I am?” “Well, I didn’t need much help, you know. You are a scorching hot woman, and right now, you meet my needs!” I rasped out. You’re not going to make me walk out in public right now, are you?” “I am hungry. What are you doing for supper?” I replied, “I have no plans. What are you game for?” “I know a good deli in the mall, they’re still open. Is that OK?” Marisa asked with a rather soft voice. “Sure.” “You know, you haven’t said much about being freaked out at all. Are you still OK with me?” “Why wouldn’t I be?” I didn’t want to screw up this good thing, so I tried to keep my voice as light as possible. “I’ve seen much more violent reactions from other women who accidentally step on something just once, you don’t seem to be bothered, and that doesn’t bother me, I don’t feel judgmental about it.” I said the last part very quickly. “You seem to be very turned on.” “Again, you gave some very good & quick incentive to get me into that state.” I decided to go for broke: “I get very turned on when I see a woman trapping something in her shoe. You gave me an amazing display of that tonight.” “Tonight? What about this afternoon?” Marisa had a huge grin on her face. “Yes,” I drew that out, “I had an amazing display this afternoon as well. What do you like to do with your prisoners?” “Squash ‘em flat!” Came the instant response. “Do you do that with edible things?” I asked. “What’s your pleasure?” A very saucy grin was on her face. “I’m fond of small crunchy dill pickles, particularly the deli variety.” Marisa shrieked, grabbed me by the ears and plunged my head back down between her legs. Her left hand held the back of my head as her right deftly pulled aside her panties. “Lick me big boy!” she panted. “I’m fond of pickles too.” Within a very short period of time (too short!) she gave a loud moan and a drawn out “Ohhhh!” and a shudder, and she pulled my head up by my hair.