by Thalia Frost
title page
Sexual Heeling
Thalia Frost
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An imprint of
Musa Publishing
Copyright Information
Sexual Heeling, Copyright © Thalia Frost, 2011
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
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Musa Publishing
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Lancaster, OH 43130
www.musapublishing.com
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Published by Musa Publishing, November, 2011
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This e-Book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this ebook can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.
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ISBN: 978-1-61937-058-6
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Editor: Pat Sager
Cover Design: Kelly Shorten
Interior Book Design: Coreen Montagna
Warning
This e-book contains adult language and scenes. This story is meant only for adults as defined by the laws of the country where you made your purchase. Store your e-books carefully where they cannot be accessed by younger readers.
Chapter One
MONICA BENT DOWN TO STRAIGHTEN up the shoe rack for the tenth time today.
People are so messy.
She brushed her damp, curly black hair from her forehead, wishing for the thousandth time she had a better job and a different life.
Something will come along.
Monica had been working at the local thrift store for months since college graduation. Times were tough, and her business degree was useful here. She cheered herself up with thoughts of the work she did helping the community, and it was a management job.
Losing thirty pounds might help in the job search, too. At that thought, she caressed the pair of shiny, black, four-inch heels, size seven, she had in her hand and placed them in a lower part of the rack, out of sight from most customers. Her breathing quickened at the fantasy of her wearing the impossibly high heels with some lace or maybe leather. Taut calves and smooth hose completed her mental image of herself as sexy and powerful.
She already had at least twenty pairs in her closet, but Monica gripped them with longing.
Money was tight.
She frowned as she reminded herself she had no one to wear them for, no man in her life, much less one who liked her in high heels.
“Excuse me, I need some assistance.”
She whirled around, standing up and facing the man behind the voice. Her heart skipped in a kind of delicious naughtiness. It was as if she had been caught doing something illicit, not putting heels back on a store shelf.
Her breathing stopped for a millisecond at the sight of his power suit in navy blue, white shirt collar unbuttoned to show a tanned neckline. Black wavy hair fell over his collar, and wide sparkling brown eyes met hers. Monica didn’t miss the sexy accent either. Living in a border town was like that, though she had always gotten stuck with the pale, white guys. This guy was the total opposite—tall, broad shouldered, and mocha skinned.
“I can help you.” The words had to be forced out, and it was all she could do to keep from panting. She tried to get a grip on herself, turning away from him as she spoke.
“Great. I was wondering if you would try on that pair of heels you had in your hands just now.”
He raised an eyebrow, and Monica’s cheeks burned.
“Oh, are you buying them for someone special?”
“Maybe. I was here to look at the used books. You always have a good selection, but then I saw those heels in your hands, and I didn’t make it to the books.”
He stood close behind her, a scent of amber and coconut making her knees tremble.
“Sure, I can do that.” Monica sat down on the bench which was there for that purpose. She grabbed the heels, hardly able to look at him. She felt her panties grow damp with arousal. Avoiding his gaze, she slipped her sandals off.
“Let me help you.” He knelt down by her feet, and she couldn’t breathe for a second. “I’m Jorge Suarez, by the way. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself.” He gave her an easy smile as he took her bare left foot in hand.
Monica felt like she would pass out. He caressed her foot subtly, running warm fingers over the top as he held her heel in his palm. “You have gorgeous feet. Has anyone ever told you?”
“No.” She smiled, hoping no one was watching them and glad she had sprung for a pedicure the week before.
He took the high heel for her left foot and slipped it on slowly like a first, lingering kiss.
“Perfect. Now the other foot.” Jorge moved in front of her and grasped her right foot in his hand, stroking it up and down.
Monica took a half breath, nearly gasping. So, he likes feet and heels, too. She fought the urge to close her eyes in rapture as Jorge’s fingers hit on all the right spots. She had always loved feet and her own feet in high heels, but she had never met a man until now who felt the same.
Too bad he just wants the heels for someone else.
Jorge slid the right heel on like it was an offering to a goddess. Monica moaned under her breath before she could stop herself.
“Could you walk in them for me? And what’s your name? You still haven’t told me.” His brown eyes danced.
“Monica Sweet.”
“That’s a lovely name.”
She nodded and walked a short distance away from him in the heels. Monica noticed her boss frowning at her. She plastered on a smile and whirled back toward him.
He raised his eyebrows, letting out a low wolf whistle. “You look great in those. I’d like to buy them for you and take you to lunch if that’s all right.”
Monica stood stiff, not sure she had heard right. Why did this gorgeous piece of man want to take her to lunch? Frumpy Monica with jeans and heels on?
“Well? My treat, anywhere you want to go.”
“For me?”
“Yes, they’re for you.”
“How can I say no?” She forced a nervous laugh. “I’m due for a lunch break in a few minutes anyway.” Monica tried to sound casual, but knew she failed.
“Great. I’ll just buy these for you and meet you up front. Would you wear them to lunch?”
“With jeans?” She forced a laugh to cover her nervousness and arousal.
“On you, any way I can get them.” He held her gaze, his eyes issuing a challenge.
“Yes, I’d love to.” Monica told the truth. The heels and the thought of wearing them for him made her feel sexy, wanton, powerful.
“Nice. See you in a few minutes.”
He strode to the cash register as Monica followed him with her eyes, remembering to close her gaping mouth as her boss looked her way with raised eyebrows.
Monica shrugged at the older woman and went back to sorting shoes with a big smile on her face.
Jorge watched Monica slide the heels on her feet. He knew she was taking her time just for him, and his erection pressed against his slacks at the sight of her perfect feet and sparkling red toe nails
slipping into the high heels.
She looked up at him with a half-smile.
“Ready?” His voice trembled. He couldn’t help it; he was so turned on by her.
“Sure.”
“Where to?”
“Maybe Roxy’s down the street. We could have a booth. It’s nice and quiet there.”
She blushed again, and he enjoyed seeing the color in her face. Monica had arresting green eyes and a curvy body that made the heels look even better on her. Her enjoyment of high heels also made her attractive to him. When he had seen her fondling the shoes before placing them on the rack, he had gotten more turned on than he had been in months. A connection from him to her had sizzled in his mind, and he wanted her like he hadn’t wanted a woman in years.
“Let’s go.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes until he broke it. “So, do you like your job?”
“It’s okay. Just something to do until a better one comes along. I’m using my business degree there anyway.”
“Ah, yes, to be in your early career. I’ve hit thirty now, and I’m sort of stuck in my own job, but I like it.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a lawyer. The nice thing is that some days, I have an afternoon off, like today.”
“Oh.” She dipped her head, and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was, about how they might spend the rest of the day.
“Here we are.” He opened the door for her, and they took a booth near the back. The table was small, and Jorge liked that. It gave him ideas.
The waitress had just taken their orders when Monica felt Jorge’s hand on her leg.
“Would you like a foot massage while we wait?” A smile played on his wide lips.
“Yes.” Monica decided not to be coy with him. She was never going to get another chance like this with a man this gorgeous who loved her feet and high heels like she did.
He reached under the table and took her right foot in his warm hands. The sensation made her shiver as she looked into his eyes. Jorge massaged her arch and each toe, sending tingles straight to her cunt.
“Relaxing?”
“Very.” She grinned at him, feeling almost drowsy, though aroused as she had not been in months.
“Good. You deserve it.” He moved her foot onto his thigh, and she sucked in her breath. The waitress returned with their food, and Monica worked on having a normal facial expression.
Jorge put her foot down gently and took her other one, moving it between his hard thighs. He stroked the arch until she whimpered softly, not able to eat a bite.
“You need to eat. I’ll get to the food in a minute.” He gave her a wicked smile as he moved her foot on top of the bulge in his pants.
A surge of heat rushed to her cunt at the feel of his rock hard cock under the sole of her foot. From what she could tell, there was plenty of it to rub against. Monica moved her foot over him, reveling in the feel of the steel under his pants.
“That feels nice, Monica,” he purred in a low voice. “In fact, it’s so sexy I’d like you to wear those heels back to my place when we’re done eating.”
“I’m supposed to work, but I’ll call in with a sudden illness.” She laughed, heat rising to her cheeks.
“Good plan. I guess we’d better eat.” He frowned, and Monica winked at him, feeling the guarded layers she had put up for the past few months with her bad job and disappointments start to peel away. She hoped Jorge was all he looked to be. The whole thing was crazy, but for some reason, her heart said yes.
He put her foot down after a last long stroke, and they ate in silence, wolfing down their food.
Chapter Two
JORGE HURRIED MONICA BACK outside and to his tan sports car. He saw her admiring glance and was glad she was impressed. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer with her. His cock demanded attention, but he didn’t want to rush her. Monica intrigued him like no woman he remembered.
During the short drive to his house, he reached over and stroked Monica’s arm and shoulder, looking at her full breasts in her v-neck t-shirt. The thought of seeing her nipples and large tits made him break out into a sweat.
“Here we are.” He wheeled up the long driveway.
“Wow.”
“Thanks. I made partner this year and finally bought a place of my own.”
“I’ll say.”
Jorge ushered her out of the car, watching her behind twitch all the way into the house. He barely closed the door before he pushed her against the wall, pulling her shirt over her head. She didn’t resist, and he crushed her lips under his, his hand behind her mass of curls. After her top was off, he undid her bra with one hand and took her breasts in his palms.
“Let’s go to the bedroom.” Jorge picked her up, and she yelped.
“I’m too heavy.”
“No, you’re not. Don’t say that. You’re perfect, Monica.”
She blushed, and he kissed her on the way to the bedroom. As he took her jeans off, he teased her nipples between his sharp teeth, and she cried out.
Her jeans hit the floor.
“Leave your heels on.”
So she put the high heels back on.
Jorge took her in his arms, pushing her back onto the bed. “Let me get something to make this even more fun.”
Monica held her breath, wondering what he meant.
A bottle of coconut oil was in his hands when he returned. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought about what he might do with it. This was a new addition to the bedroom for her.
He removed one heel at a time, arching his brows as he did so.
Jorge poured some oil into his hands and massaged it into her feet, taking his time until her arousal was agonizing. The pressure points on her feet connected to her cunt, and she longed to have him inside her. He took her toes into his mouth, sucking and licking each one until she groaned and begged.
“Please, please, I need you.”
“Not yet.” He grinned, reading her mind as she thrashed on the bed.
She wanted to touch and feel him, but Jorge simply unzipped himself and took his long, thick cock out. It was mocha and smooth like the rest of him. Monica sucked in her breath as he stroked it twice, looking at her through heavy lidded eyes.
“I’m going to make you happy, Monica. I want you to feel so good.” His voice thrilled her every nerve ending.
He took her feet and added more oil to them. Jorge slid the oil all over them and then he wrapped them around his cock, his hands on the outside of her feet. He held them there while looking at her with a smile of challenge. Monica felt his rigid shaft pressed against her heels, and the sensation nearly drove her wild with desire.
“Oh My God.” Monica moaned, her clitoris throbbing as her legs came together. The feel of his dick between the soles of her feet made her want to pass out. No man had ever done anything like this to her before, but it was something she had fantasized about. It was as if Jorge had read her mind.
He thrust his long dick back and forth between her feet, fucking them, hard and soft wrapped into one package. She watched him, his eyes closed as he screwed her feet, the sound of his cock on her oiled skin making her lust rise higher.
“Monica, oh, Monica. I love your feet, baby. You are sooo sexy.” His voice was a low growl that thrilled her.
Monica reached down, massaging her nub as she stared at his cock sliding through the oily space against her feet. If she didn’t touch herself, she thought she would explode.
She felt him stiffen. “Are you ready?” He whispered the words, licking his lips. “Your sexy feet are going to make me come all over them, but I want you to be with me.”
“Mmm,” Monica moaned, her clit pulsing on the edge of orgasm. “Yes, I’m ready.” Her pussy quivered with need.
He bellowed her name, and hot liquid spurted onto her feet, between her toes and dripping down her heels and calves.
Monica reached her peak, the orgasm pounding through her at the
thought of the pleasure Jorge had taken from her feet. Her cunt pulsed over and over in ripples as she gazed up at him.
Breathless, she felt him rub his hot, thick cum into her feet and ankles, and she whimpered at how sexy it was. She pinched herself on the arm to make sure he was real.
The bite of her fingernails told her he was.
She gazed at his hard ass when he went to get a towel, rubbing it up and down, drying her feet with tenderness.
Monica sighed with pleasure as he pulled her into his arms. “You’re so gorgeous, Monica.”
“That was hot.” She laughed as she caught her breath.
“It is just the beginning.” He gave her a wicked grin.
“I’ve certainly never done that before.”
“Me neither. I guess we’re lucky we found each other.” He traced kisses down her neck, and she moaned her arousal rising again. His tongue played over her nipples, teasing them to erectness when he nipped at them as his questing hands moved over the globes of her ass.
“I want you inside me this time.”
“Your wish is my command.” Jorge traced fire across her breasts with his tongue, and she felt his cock pressing against her stomach. She couldn’t believe he was hard again so quickly.
“Could I have my heels so I can wear them for you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Certainly.”
Jorge reached into his nightstand, ripping open a condom and rolling it on. Then he grabbed her heels off the floor and put them on her feet as if she were his idol, stroking and rubbing as he did so. He positioned himself between her legs, hoisting them over his shoulders.
Monica shuddered at the warmth of him and at the thought of how deeply he would penetrate her. Her heels glinted off the light in the room, and she felt a rush of desire as he stroked her legs.
He slid his cock inside her a few inches, making her whimper.
“Do you want it, baby?”
“Yes, please, Jorge.” Her answer was little more than a distracted whisper.
He pushed a little farther inside her, and her clit tingled. She watched as he took one of her high heels off.
