Sex Stories Thigh High Boots

Sex Stories Thigh High Boots
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A man's first experience of pegging.
FEMDOM boot-worship & trampling in an office environment.
Heather is eager to show Cory how good she looks.
The sisters settle in their new roles. Irene makes her move.
Older crossdresser get a chance to be a housewife for life.
Part 2 of the "We Shouldn't Have Trusted Her" series.
Sister and friends dress up, and I have a say...
A man gets a second chance to be the woman he needs to be.
Trans woman helps others to be themsleves.
I take my submissive girlfriend for a ride in the mountains.
The power shifts back and forth at the hotel.
Millionaire forces a man to be his wife. Now regrets it.
Margret, Grace and Robert have foot fun together.
Siblings find each other through her boots.
Gwen and Henry "Discuss" Child-Rearing, Meet the parents.
Passion in the shoe store... in 750 words!
She fucked me with her ankle boots.
Louise learns to believe in Santa in a fun way.
Mother listens to married sons frustration and offers help.
A werewolf is hunted and tamed on fireworks night.
A weekend activity takes an unexpected turn.
Jaime and Jac are further explored. Their socks...
David tongue worships his Mistress' sweaty feet.
Poker, Foot Fetish and Ash's Gangbang at the VFW.
David worships Kate's feet before being caught in a lie.
A new revelation encourages Tracy to step it up.
Tracy decides to take matters into her own hands… or feet.
Wednesday foot massages become a regular thing.
Mum and Dad seduce Daughter in Ibiza.
Girlfriend describes athletic and hung boyfriend.
Tracy and I get comfortable with our foot play.
She gets creamed in very public situations.
Some sensual play and some learning.
A second date leads to an explosive climax.
Savannah finally goes through with her plan.
Elisabeth reinforces her rule over Eric with a beating.
Allen takes life as Allison even further.
Keyaru's desires for her training start to burn as Norn gets.
Norn finally captures Keyaru. His training, as her personal.
New starting middle aged D/s relationship.
Teresa finds herself back in her dirty boots, deep again.
A male discovers he is aroused by socks.
Melodie and her boots help Jon study for his French exam.
Sex therapist and husband help couple express their desires.
A beautiful Indian girl distracts me at work.
She'd do anything for those new boots.
A money-loving Domme goes shopping.
Lexi traps a thief, as he tries to steal her infamous poison.
A swindler finds himself inside of Juicy's dungeon. Will he?
A man embraces his feminine side when encouraged by his wife.
Jamie comes to my apartment in her boots.
The line between love and hate doesn't exist.
A couple enjoy some boot smelling on a quiet Christmas Eve.
Things heat up easily between men on the road.
She has him for the holidays. Fun ensues.
Jennifer who he has met before is now his Mistress.
Mum Shopping with son takes them to new experiences.
Beth messed up, again. Help is at hand.
Moonlight heads toward her first ponygirl race.
Sam stares at a woman's boots on the train. She notices.
Loreline captures a band of thieves and breaks them apart.
She teaches me to love her smelly boots.
Setup by wife and her lover, CDer submits to be a sissy maid.
Jane struggles finding a perfect Halloween outfit until...
Loreline breaks the final member of Xanders crew.
Tessa is interested in making Trish her submissive.
A younger man falls for an older lady in leather.
Amanda adds herself in as a Mistress.
The story of my love for an older woman dressed in leather.
Betty offers Jeff an incredible opportunity at her new shop.
Cybil gets him to know ropes and the flogger.
A succubus drains the royal family.
John finds foot love at his cousin Aiden's wedding.
Jeff returns for more ink. Betty and her apprentice oblige.
Lynn is makes Peter feel comfortable wanting her.
Betty's smelly feet help Jeff relax while she tattoos him.
Professor is caged by student in pet store.
Jessie's feet make Peter's dreams come true.
Cybil is starting to set limits to the candidate.
Faceslapping play, three dirty rags and two cherries.
Peter continues to fall under the spell of Jessie's feet.
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Recently I spent far too long pining over a pair of black, over the knee boots . Screen shots of said boots from multiple angles filled my camera roll and I had excitedly told everyone all about them. Versatile. Classic. Stylish. These boots were going to CHANGE MY LIFE and I couldn’t bloody wait. I had even made space in my wardrobe , I was committed.
Little did I know that trying these boots on would be up there in terms of embarrassment with the time my netball skirt came undone and flew off whilst umpiring in front of a lot of people. That the experience would be marred by embarrassment and trauma, not the level of joy and new boot smugness that I had expected, not even close.
I will admit that before trying said boots on, I was a tad nervous because I have rather large calves. Many a time I have convinced myself that they are in fact disproportionate to my body. As well as being large, my calves are also strong. My now husband, but previous annoying boy at school once unintentionally made me cry by commenting on how large my calves were, apparently they bring all the boys to the yard.
Well they may bring all the boys to the yard but they most definitely do not suit long, black, over the knee boots because they got stuck on my legs. Very stuck. Did I mention that they were pull on boots? Not a helpful zipper in sight. I’m having heart palpitations just writing this.
Despite all the warning signs that trying said boots on was possibly definitely a bad idea, I persisted because fashun . The only good thing to happen but probably a negative as I reflect on the whole experience was that they had my size, a 42, and that never happens.
As the shop assistant handed over the first boot to try, alarm bells immediately started ringing. “The legs look very small,” I said trying desperately to sound casual and calm, but actually beginning to panic internally. “They’re actually quite roomy because the back is neoprene, have a feel,” she replied handing over the boot and showing me how the fabric at the back stretched.
These boots really are a dream I thought to myself, montages of future me looking ah-mazing flashing through my head. I’m sad to say that this is where things took a turn for the worst. At this point another customer entered the store and the shop assistant left me and the boots alone. And things got ugly quickly.
The warning signs of impending doom were clear as soon as I tried to shove, shove being the key word, my legs into the boots. Much like trying to squeeze into skinny jeans, I shimmied and shook my legs into the boots with a level of force generally only reserved for trying to open jars of salsa.
Listen: Mamamia Out Loud discuss this very unhelpful fashion study (post continues after audio...)
Satisfied with myself I got up to check myself out in the mirror and quickly realised that a) the above the knee bit was sitting halfway up my knee which definitely wasn’t right, b) I had managed to create a muffin top situation with my legs and c) I had begun to lose feeling in the bottom of my legs. I needed to get these boots off and fast.
As I tugged and pulled and squirmed, anxiously trying not to alert the shop assistant and other customer to my desperate situation, I realised that I really was in quite a pickle. No matter how hard I pulled or twisted or tugged the spawn of the devil boots just would not budge. At this stage, given that no one had noticed my embarrassing ordeal, I seriously considered spending $300 to buy the boots, only to immediately get scissors and cut them off but then I remembered that I need to eat this month.
It was at this moment, a nervous rash spreading rapidly up my neck, that the shop assistant decided to see how I was going. “They don’t really sit right,” I said, trying to casually tug them off as we spoke. “That’s a shame….Are you okay?” Clearly picking up on the fact that I was a) beginning to sweat, b) panting from the effort of trying to tug the boots off and c) most definitely stuck. “Um…oh…yeah I think maybe the boots are caught on my jeans, I’ll be okay,” I laughed.
As I pulled one more time I realised that in a cruel twist of fate my jeans were beginning to move with the boots. “Did you want me to pull for you? You look like you might need some help,” the shop assistant piped in, clearly concerned about the manic woman destroying stock. “Yeah,” I answered, defeated.
So, as I held onto the top of my jeans, I needed to keep some of my dignity intact, the shop assistant pulled with all her might and extracted the boots from my legs much to the shock and entertainment of the number of other customers in the store by now. Three minutes later I shamefully limped out of the shop because it turns out that getting boots stuck on your legs kind of really hurts your ankles. As I slinked away I vowed that I will never, ever try long boots on again.
Has anyone seen any nice short boots? I’m in need.

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Long leather boots & long-held desire bond mom & son.
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I knew what I looked like before the evening even began, but it was only by the end of the night that I knew that inside, I was exactly the same as the way that I appeared. Intrigued?
It had been a sweltering hot Friday, and now, at early evening, it was warm and humid. I'd finished getting ready for my night out with the girls, and was admiring my look in the full length mirror in the hallway when the doorbell rang. About time, I thought; any later, and I'd have missed him - and I doubt he's remembered his door key. My son was back from university for the weekend, for a night out celebrating his mate's 23rd birthday the following night. I had told him that I'd be out by seven, and he was pushing it. The doorbell went again. Impatient sod!
I opened the door wide. "And what time to you call this, young man, hmm?"
"Forget that - come in here and give your mother a hug."
He stepped inside and dropped his holdall by the door. Damn, I'd forgotten how handsome he was. I know absence makes the heart grow fonder, and a parent shouldn't be proud of how good their kids look, but...even though I'm his mother, I have to admit that as he's grown older, as a woman, I've found him attractive. Was that so bad? I'd asked myself this, ever more frequently over the last year or two.
He threw his arms around me, and as he hugged me tightly, I stroked the back of his hair. I leaned back a little to have a good look at him, my hands resting on his firm chest, his hands still on my waist.
"Have to say it, you look fantastic mum. Where are you off to?"
"Just into town, darling - a few pubs, you know?"
My hands slid down his chest as he moved his from my waist, and I turned to walk down the hall towards the kitchen. "Do you want a drink before I go, love? I've got five minutes before the cab's here - go on, sit yourself down."
He filled me in on his journey as I hastily poured a couple of whiskey and cokes, and returned to the living room. I perched on the edge of an armchair, crossing one leg over the other and lit a cigarette. It was then that I noticed 'that look'. The look that I've occasionally seen in his eyes, and many a time in other men's. Sometimes, you just know when someone's giving you the 'once over'.
I smiled at him. "What?" I asked, coyly.
"Nothing... just admiring. I like your dress."
"Very slinky..." He smiled, raising one eyebrow. "Very short." He smirked. I smiled back. It was slinky, and it was short. The classic little black dress, ending way up on my thighs, with a plunging neckline, and very little left to the imagination. I was glad that he liked the way I looked.
"And those boots...I love those boots. You look hot, mum."
That was the moment I felt it. That moment when there's a tingle in your pussy, and a rushing feeling inside you. That feeling - the knowing.
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Sex Stories Thigh High Boots

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