<STYLE type=text/css> <!-- .solidblockmenu{ margin:0px 0px 0px 4px; width:605px; padding:0px 0px 0px 4px; float: center; font: bold 9px Arial; color:#3366CC; border: 1px solid #c6e3f1; border-width: 1px 0; height:26px; background: black url(images/summer-erotic-fiction-contest/blockdefault.gif) center center repeat-x; } .solidblockmenu li{ display: inline; } .solidblockmenu li a{ float: left; color: #288dab; padding: 5px 7px; text-decoration: none; border-right: 1px solid white; } .solidblockmenu li a:visited{ color: #288dab; } .solidblockmenu li a:hover, .solidblockmenu li .current{ color: #db442c; background: transparent url(images/summer-erotic-fiction-contest/blockactive.gif) center center repeat-x; } #serfc-mainBG { background: url(images/summer-erotic-fiction-contest/images/mainBG.gif) no-repeat bottom;} .list { font-size:10px; padding:2px 0 0 10px;} #serfcbox {margin-left:8px; float:left;} #vote {margin:0px 0px 4px 8px; width:180px; padding:0px 0px 4px 8px;} #serfcright {float:left; margin:0px 0px 10px 0; width:202px;} #serfcleft{float:left; margin:0px 5px 10px 0; width:405px; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-DECORATION: none; color:#356984;} p.serfc {FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size: 11px; font-weight: normal; LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-DECORATION: none; color:#356984; padding: 0px 13px 2px 0px;} p.serfc a {text-decoration:underline; color:#000; font-weight:bold; font-size:10px;} .serfcsigns {margin:50px 20px 0 20px; float:left;} #serfc-week { FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; color:#356984; font-weight: bold; LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-DECORATION: none; padding:5px 0 0px 0; } #serfc-ftitles { FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; color:#cc4936; font-weight: bold; LINE-HEIGHT: normal; TEXT-DECORATION: none; padding:5px 0 0px 0; } .class1 A:link {color: #000000; text-decoration: underline; font-size:10px; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans serif;} .class1 A:visited {color: #000000; text-decoration: underline; font-size:10px; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans serif;} .class1 A:active {color: #000000; text-decoration: underline; font-size:10px; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans serif;} .class1 A:hover {color: #cc4936; text-decoration: none; font-size:10px; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans serif;} .serfc-smallcopy { FONT-SIZE: 9px; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans serif; TEXT-DECORATION: none; } .serfc-smallcopy a { FONT-SIZE: 9px; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans serif; TEXT-DECORATION: none; } .serfc-hr {border-top-width: 1px; border-top-style: dashed; border-top-color: #d4ecf8; width: 94%; height: 1px;} --> </STYLE> <STYLE type=text/css> <!-- p.iepara{ /*Conditional CSS- For IE (inc IE7), create 1em spacing between menu and paragraph that follows*/ padding-top: 1em; } --> </STYLE> <DIV style="MARGIN: 0px; WIDTH: 622px" align=center><IMG alt="" src="http://content.bettersex.comimages/summer-erotic-fiction-contest/semi-round1.jpg"> <UL class=solidblockmenu> <LI><A href="http://www.bettersex.com/t-bettersex-summer-fiction-round1.aspx">Round 1 Stories</A> <LI><A class=current href="http://www.bettersex.com/t-bettersex-sensible-shoes.aspx">Story 1</A> <LI><A href="http://www.bettersex.com/t-bettersex-innocent-corruption.aspx">Story 2</A> <LI><A href="http://www.bettersex.com/t-bettersex-pennys-pleasure.aspx">Story 3</A> <LI><A href="http://www.bettersex.com/t-bettersex-snow-white.aspx">Story 4</A> <LI><A href="http://www.bettersex.com/t-bettersex-traffic-jammed.aspx">Story 5</A> <LI><A href="http://www.bettersex.com/t-bettersex-sleepness-night.aspx">Story 6</A> </LI></UL></DIV> <DIV style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 10px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; WIDTH: 622px; PADDING-TOP: 10px"> <DIV> <DIV id=serfcleft><IMG style="PADDING-RIGHT: 15px; FLOAT: left" src="http://content.bettersex.comimages/summer-erotic-fiction-contest/week1.gif"> <DIV id=serfc-week style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">SENSIBLE SHOES<BR><SPAN id=serfc-ftitles>By Geoff Chaucer</SPAN></DIV><!-- insert story here --> <P class=serfc align=left>I am a shoe salesman. I work at GERARD'S, which is a small up scale independent shoe store in west L.A. We sell women's shoes, and, in order to compete with the big stores we have to give the customers reasons to come in to our store rather than going to the competition. One of those reasons is our policy of service to the customers. The boss says, "Treat 'em like they just bought a dozen pairs, whether they ever spend a dime or not." That meant measuring every foot, and helping them on and off with shoes, which means my sitting on the low stool in front of the ladies while they put their feet, one at a time on the slanted surface between my knees. Now my position, as opposed to the lady customer's position, makes it almost impossible for me not to look up their skirts if they are wearing skirts. Personally I have no problem with that. I like to look at ladies panties with ladies still in them, but, I didn't figure it would be too good for business to have the salesmen ogling the customers, so I tried hard to look 'em in the eyes rather than in the panties. Turns out I was wrong. I discovered that lots of the ladies expected me to look; were almost offended if I didn't look. Those that didn't want to show me their panties wore trousers.<BR><BR>I discovered this was true through the observation of Arthur, my friend and fellow salesman. One day a lady wearing a nice pants suit came in. She was no flirty young girl, but she was hardly a crone either. Her hair was long, ash blond, and combed smooth. It lay heavy and glistening on her shoulders in sharp contrast to the dark blue of her suit top. Art was busy with another customer so I asked the lady if I could help her, making sure to smile my warmest, but least threateningly male, smile.<BR><BR>She looked right into my eyes and smiled back, her gray eyes warm and frank. "I'm looking for a descent looking pair of walking shoes," she said. Her voice was a throaty contralto with a sexy hint of laughter in it. <BR><BR>"Certainly," I said. "Athletic type walking shoes?"<BR>"No, I don't think so." she answered. "Maybe. . ." <BR>We discussed it a few moments then I seated her and measured her and began bringing shoes. She finally decided on a pair of black, soft leather shoes that were like athletic shoes. She was happy with what she bought and as I was ringing her up she smiled her warm smile again. For some reason that smile made me go all buttery inside and I felt my maleness stir. <BR><BR>"You're very nice," she said. "Thank you."<BR>I thanked her back and watched her hips sway gently as she left the store.<BR>"She'll be back," Art said.<BR>"Hope so. She didn't even blink at the $200 those shoes cost. I could use a few dozen regular customers like her."<BR>"Not exactly what I mean," Art said.<BR>"Huh? So what do you mean?"<BR>"I mean she'll be back to see you, sure as bread falls butter side down."<BR>"Ah Bullshit," I laughed.<BR>"Bullshit yourself," he said. "Haven't you noticed how many of your customers come back just to try on shoes?"<BR>"Oh hell, that is just women. They like to buy shoes. I mean look at Imelda Marcos. She had thousands of pairs. They come in to try 'em on and maybe they buy and maybe they don't. They do it for amusement."<BR>"Um hm, and because they like to have you wait on them."<BR>"Bullshit!"<BR>"OK, if you say so, but watch. You get a lot of repeats, and a lot of 'em come back wearing dresses. Just mark what I'm saying to you here," he insisted.<BR><BR>I just looked at him, trying to figure if he was kidding. I thought he was. I mean after all, I'm no hunk. I'm too tall, 6'5", too long in the arms and legs, and my face is nothing to write home about. I do work out and run to keep the fat off me, and I try to stay clean and dress nice, but hell, Art did that too, but he wasn't saying the women were coming back to see him. He said they were coming back to see me.<BR>"Ah bullshit," I said again. <BR>Art shrugged and let the subject drop, but it didn't disappear from my mind. Over the next several days I took note of who and what came into the store, and who and what came in to see me.<BR><BR>At first it seemed pretty much as I had thought. Art and I split the customers about evenly, and he sold about as many shoes as I did, but I did notice that an awful lot of my customers did seem to be repeats, and an awful lot of them seemed to be wearing skirts. I didn't quite know how to handle that. Did it mean they wanted me to look?<BR><BR>It seemed as though they did, but I didn't want to start ogling them like some damn teenager looking through a knot hole into the girls john, so I began to carefully take note of what I was being shown.<BR><BR>It was amazing! I had always tried to keep my eyes on the customers faces before, but I began glancing down more as I sat on my little stool. I would turn my eyes down between the upraised knees and see the satiny Vee of panties above stocking tops. I was astounded that so many women of all ages were wearing stockings that needed garters, or garter belts to keep them up. I had thought most women had gone to panty hose. Now, don't get me wrong, not every woman that opened her knees for me to see was wearing stockings and garters and sexy panties, but a surprising number of them were.<BR><BR>After I had looked down at what was being shown I would look up into the ladies face and, without fail, she would be smiling with just the tiniest touch of wicked amusement. And none of them fit any profile. They were young and old and middle aged; they were white and black and brown and yellow; they were skinny and fat and just right. The only thing they had in common was that they liked to come to GERARD'S Shoes to open their legs and show me their panties.<BR><BR>So I looked. I figured if it gave them some kind of thrill and made them come back to try on shoes more, what could it hurt. Besides I liked it. Especially the ones who went out of their way to show me something. <BR><BR>A couple of days later, a few moments before closing, the ash blond woman came back, and, just as Art had predicted, she was wearing a skirt. A business suit actually. Jacket and straight skirt in gray, the severity of which was eased by a soft cream colored blouse with a waterfall ruffle at the throat and lacy cuffs that draped her wrists.<BR><BR>Neither Art nor I was busy, but when he saw who it was her handed her over to me and went to the back.<BR>I swallowed against a slight constriction of desire which had gripped my throat. There was electricity between the woman and I without a word being said.<BR>"How may I help you this evening," I asked, seating her.<BR>She swallowed and, with a burr of nervousness in her voice she said, "I need a pair of black high heels."<BR>"OK. I'm afraid I don't remember your size. . ." I gave her the chance to simply tell me, but instead she said, "Perhaps you had better measure," and lifted her right foot for me to slip the black mid-heel pump off.<BR>She was more shy than others had been, and didn't simply let her left knee drop open, but she did swing it a little to the side as I measured her foot so that I got a glimpse of pink panties above her stocking tops.<BR>I excused myself and went to the back to bring out a couple of pairs in her size. In the stock room Art was waiting for me. "I told you she'd be back, and wearing a skirt," he said.<BR>"Yeah, you did."<BR>"I'm going to punch out of here. Everything is done except the cash register and I'm going to do that now. All you'll have to do is lock the door behind you," he said.<BR>"What do you mean?"<BR>"Come on man, you ain't that stupid. She didn't come back to buy shoes. Just be a little careful, OK?"<BR>I blinked at him a couple of times, turning over possibilities in my mind. "Yeah," I said. "OK. Thanks Art. I'll return the favor some time."<BR>He grinned. "From your lips to God's ears," he said.<BR>I carried the two shoe boxes out.<BR>There was a shy smile in her eyes when I straddled my stool again. There was nothing bold about her at all. Not like the young girl.<BR>I took the top off a box and brought out the shoe. She lifted her foot and I put my hand under the heel to hold it while I slipped on the shoe. The dark tunnel up to the pink Vee was more open than a moment before, but still not wide. I glanced from that up to her face and a stab of hurt went through me. Tears had taken the place of the smile in her lovely gray eyes.<BR><BR>"I'm sorry," I stammered. "I didn't mean to offend you."<BR>"No, No!" she said, leaning forward to put her hand on my upraised knee. "It isn't that. I want you to. It' just that. . . I was afraid."<BR>"Afraid? Of what? I wouldn't hurt you."<BR>"Afraid that you wouldn't look," she said and put her hands over her face. "Wouldn't look? You must be kidding! I've been dreaming about you coming back, hoping I'd get a chance. . ."<BR>"Really?"<BR>"Really," I said and took my handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to her.<BR>"It's just that It has been so long since a man wanted me," she said, dabbing at her eyes.<BR>"I find that hard to believe. I wanted you the second you smiled at me last time. I can't feature any man not wanting you."<BR>"But I'm so old and dried up," she said. <BR>"Old? You're what? Thirty--thirty five maybe?"<BR>Those deep gray eyes widened at me, disbelief clear in them.<BR>"I'm fifty," she said.<BR>"If you say so," I answered. "But you are one luscious looking fifty. Who ever told you different was blind, or stupid."<BR>"My husband," she said, almost as though she were challenging me. . . .or giving me an out. "I don't care. I still want you," I said, and to prove it I reached forward and slid my hand gently up the inside of her thigh, stopping when I felt the silky, yielding flesh above her stocking top. <BR><BR>She gasped. "Shall I stop?" I asked her.<BR>"No," she answered after a second's thought.<BR>I moved my fingers up to the smooth nylon Vee and began circling the tips over it. I could feel the wealth of curly pubic hair on her mons and lower down the Vee the panties were damp with the humidity of her. "That doesn't feel very dried up," I said. She didn't answer, but the tension in her thighs eased and she opened them more. A shiver went through her.<BR><BR>Art came out of the Stock room and I quickly snatched my hand from beneath her skirt. Art didn't so much as look our way, but went directly to the cash register.<BR><BR>The lady looked as though she were going to cry again and I lifted my hand to her cheek. "Don't," I said. "I want to make love to you, but I don't want to make a show of you. Lets go somewhere private."<BR><BR>She looked into my eyes, trying to see if I was sincere, or just lying to get her in bed. I was sincere and she saw that I was, because she nodded, took my hand and kissed my palm. <BR><BR>We went to the Arcadia House Hotel. Very classy place. I didn't wait until we got to the room. We were alone in the elevator and I pulled her too me. Her mouth was soft and yielding and hungry, and her tongue tip fenced with<BR><BR>mine as we kissed. I slipped my hand down her hip to her thigh and lifted it. Her tight skirt stopped her thigh from coming too far up, but her position made her pelvis thrust harder against me.<BR><BR>"Oh God," she whispered. "You're already hard."<BR>"I've been that way since I first saw you tonight."<BR>I could feel the quiver of her hip flexors through the material and the layer of flesh.<BR>In the room we locked the door and she began to shrug out of her coat, but I said, "No," and she stopped. "Let me do it."<BR><BR>"Alright. Undress me."<BR><BR>I began by kissing her again, then trailing my tongue round and round her half open lips. She lifted her chin like a greedy little bird begging to be fed. I made a path of tiny love bites down her throat to the waterfall ruffle then helped her slip off her jacket. Her breasts were delicious globes beneath the satin of her blouse, and I gently ran my palms over them. Her nipples were hard as iron spikes, and they poked against my caressing hands. <BR><BR>Suddenly I was hungry to see her naked. I unbuttoned the blouse, slipped it off her, and undid the front clasp of her bra. Her breasts were heavy and they sank a little when the support of the bra was gone, but no more than a finger's width.<BR><BR>She had tan lines above and below, but the spheres of her breasts had never been touched by the sun. They were creamy white. The cleft between them was tan at the top, but faded to the same whiteness deeper down. The nipples were rosy pink, as though she were a young girl, and they strained up, begging to be kissed and suckled. <BR><BR>I ran my tongue tip between her tits, then beneath the right one and back up around, then repeated the process, spiraling in toward the nipple. It grew harder and the aureole crinkled at the touch of my breath. <BR><BR>She moaned as I sucked nipple, aureole, and part of the flesh surrounding it into my mouth, and moaned again as I sucked harder. I moved my mouth to her other titty, suckling like a starving baby, at the same time, pulling down the zipper<BR><BR>at the back of her skirt. I undid the button, and let the skirt drop around her feet. After a moment she stepped out of it and kicked it away. She was left wearing stockings, garter belt, and lacy pink panties. <BR><BR>I stepped back and ran my eyes from her thick ash blond hair, to her heavy breasts, and on down to the slight swell of her mons beneath the pink panties. "Your husband is a fool," I said and fell to my knees to bury my face between her legs. I kissed and licked her panties until they were wet and transparent, and I could see the curly pubic hair beneath.<BR><BR>"I've never been kissed there before," she said. She was looking down between her breasts, and the expression of surprise and desire sent electric shivers through me. <BR><BR>"Spread your legs a little more," I said. She stepped a little to the side, bent her knees and thrust her pelvis forward. <BR><BR>I pulled the leg of her panties aside and ran my tongue down between the lips of her sex from her clit to the opening of her womb.<BR><BR>"Oh my God!" she gasped, shivering and humping my mouth. "Do that some more!" I tried to pull her panty leg open more, but it was too tight. By now I wanted nothing more than to shove my tongue as deep into her as I could make it reach, and panties would not stop me. I tugged hard on the leg which pulled her tighter against my mouth. The seams of her panties burst andI ripped them off of her, then brought my hands up to her bottom. My fingers found their way to the crack and between them, forcing them apart. My finger found its way down to the tight puckered star of her anus. Already it was wet and slippery with her love juice, and I gently teased it, inserting the tip of my index finger to the first knuckle.<BR><BR>She cried out with pleasure and began humping my mouth so hard and fast that I could hardly lick, so I stood, picked her up, carried her to the bed, and threw her down. <BR><BR>I stripped off my own clothing and saw her eyes widen as she looked at my raging manhood. It was as hard and long as it had ever been in my life. The head was purple and a clear drop of lubricant clung to the tip like a drop of syrup.<BR><BR>"Lift your knees and open your legs," I commanded. She did as she was told, and I saw that the darker blond pubic curls from the top of her slit down the outer lips were wet and clinging to her flesh as though they had been painted there. Her juice and my saliva had oozed down the insides of her thighs and made them wet and shiny too.<BR><BR>Her eyes were still glued to my swollen manhood. “Put it in me,” she begged. “I want you in me now.”<BR><BR>I smiled at her desire and shook my head. “Not yet. I want you to cum first,” and as I said it I knelt between her spread legs and put the middle two fingers of my left hand deep into her. Her eyes opened wider and she groaned.<BR><BR>I put my thumb on top of her mons so that the length of it pressed tight against her clit then moved my fingers inside her, feeling for the slight thickening of tissue that would tell me I had found her G Spot. After a moment I found it and began massaging and pressing there as I flexed my thumb up and down to pinch her clit against her pubic bone.<BR><BR>She was panting and groaning in rhythm with my fingers now, and when I eased the pressure of my fingers a little she cried out, “NO! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! I’m so close!”<BR><BR>I returned to the same rhythm and motion and she said, “Yes! Yes! Like that!” I smiled. My own breath was coming in short gasps of excitement now. The agonized rapture on her face, the scalding wet slipperiness of her coating my hand like hot oil; and the scent, Oh God! The scent of her! Mixed of bitter perspiration, salty-rich feminine musk, flowery Joi perfume, and that indefinable smell of desire! I drew it into my nose and felt it stroke my manhood like a velvety tongue. I groaned and licked my lips. The taste of her was still on them and the mixture of smell and taste almost made me come. To take my mind off my own climax I reached up with my right hand and began rolling her left nipple between my thumb and forefinger.<BR><BR>She cried out. “AHAHAHAH,” and her muscles clamped down so hard on my fingers that it hurt and I couldn’t move them inside her any more. A gush of liquid squirted out around them into my palm and onto the bed.<BR><BR>“Now,” she begged. “Put it in me now, please. Oh please!” I leaned forward and caught her legs up on my shoulders, lifting and pushing them up, tilting her hips up. My manhood was throbbing and screaming with pent up need. The feeling as her sex engulfed mine was like I had dipped it into hot wax; excruciating pleasure that only increased as I pushed deeper.<BR><BR>“Oh yes! Oh yes!” she moaned as I drove myself again and again into her. She threw her hips up to meet mine. After only few thrusts and I felt my climax begin like two waves of electricity racing from my head and from my toes toward our joining. In a moment the waves crashed together with spurting white like lightening, erupting from me deep into her.<BR><BR>She screamed and shuddered in every muscle of her body as she climaxed a second after I did, and we collapsed together like two lumps of wet clay melding themselves into one. <BR><BR>I saw her one time after that night. She came into the the store about a month later. "I'm divorcing him," she said.<BR>“He’s an asshole and you desereve better.” <BR>She smiled. "I'll tell him you said so."<BR>I shrugged. "Tell him if you want."<BR>She lifted an eyebrow in wicked mirth, for a moment, then became serious. "I'll never tell anyone," she said.<BR>I lifted my hand and caressed her cheek. "Very gentlemanly of you," I said. "How can I do anything less?"<BR>She stretched up onto her tip toes and kissed me. "Bye, and thanks" she said.<BR>"Any time," I answered.<BR>She turned, tossed her heavy blond hair back and left the store.<BR>A little later Art said, "Al Bundy's got it all wrong doesn't he?" <BR><BR>THE END <!-- EOF story here --></P></DIV> <DIV id=serfcright><!-- poll monkey script for week 3 --> <DIV id=vote><BR> <SCRIPT src="http://www.pollmonkey.com/s.asp?c=18937852&amp;u=8413050623"> //<![CDATA[ //]]> </SCRIPT> <SCRIPT language=javascript> //<![CDATA[ DisplayVote50623(); //]]> </SCRIPT> </DIV></DIV></DIV><BR clear=all></DIV> <DIV>&nbsp;</DIV><!-- EOF Summer Erotic Fiction Contest -->
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