Snake Skin Boots

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Author: Cecilia

I watched her move toward me in the bar. There were just a few people left as the night wore away. The bar was open until dawn, but most people were already gone just after midnight. It was a weekend, and this was a working town, so only a few stragglers like myself, and the lady now walking up to me remained. She looked almost vampiric in her attire and her appearance. She seemed both sexy and sinister, as she strode across the broken peanut shells and the occasional napkin to my seat, and stood there before me, regarding me in silence. I looked up at her, inspecting this lady who had just walked up to me so confidently. She was a little shorter than me, lean, but strong and healthy looking, full of life. She had a beautiful face, unmarred by makeup, except for perhaps powder. She was very pale, adding to that night-mistress look to her. She wore a black velvet vest over a black silk blouse. Her hips were embraced tightly with a leather miniskirt, jet black in color as well. She wore a slender silvery belt that hung loose against her hip, obviously more for show than for holding that skirt, which looked almost painted on, up to her body. It wasn’t going to just slide down, belt or not. She wore a black collar, made perhaps of velvet as well, over something more firm. Leather, or even metal, I could not tell. There was a d-ring on the collar. But, what got my attention the most was her boots. All my life, I have had a thing for those thigh high boots… and the ones she wore were of my favorite variety… lacing from the ankle all the way up the front. Not surprisingly, these were also black, and appeared to be snakeskin. The scales were very shiny, gleaming under the lights that splashed over my table. I looked down at her boots for a bit more, rather captivated by them, and she suddenly brought the chair across from mine out from the table, and put her foot up on the chair, raising the boot, for closer inspection.

“Like them?” She asked, whipping her long hair back over her shoulders, as it had spilled over her chest when she leaned down to get the chair. I looked up into her youthful brown eyes, and smiled softly. I could definitely feel the buzz of the alcohol, but I was not really drunk. Not yet.
“Yes… Yes I do… Those have got to be the most attractive lookin’ boots I ever saw.” I noted, honestly, a little nervous at her forward nature. She flexed her leg a bit, bending forward and crossing her arms over her knee, pressing her full breasts against the top of her arms.
“Wanna know how I got em?” she asked, her voice piercing, sharp, and very powerful. She could be a singer, I thought. I looked up at her, and nodded softly.
“Sure… I’ll bite… how’d you come across these?” I asked.
“They were a prize.” she said. “For a dance contest.” I looked at her, intrigued. Those were pretty expensive looking boots to be a prize for a dance contest. I reached out, and let my fingers trace along the laces of the boots slowly. She smiled at me, and held still, watching for a bit.
“What kind of dance contest?” I asked, as I felt the straps. Softened leather. These were definitely top notch.
“Come with me and I’ll show you.” she said. I nodded and she led me to the back of the bar. There was a lounge there, probably for the employees, but no one was in there now. She closed the door, and latched it. As I heard the click of the latch I was immediately on my guard. She moved slowly, seductively toward me.
“Umm: Is it okay for us to be in here?” I asked, looking around furtively.
“Yes.” she said. “The bar says ‘Nightshadows’ outside right?” she asked, as she moved toward me, making sure to take long and graceful steps with those muscular, but deliciously feminine legs.
“Yeah, it does. I come here every once in a while.” I was not so drunk that I did not know where I was.
“Well, I’m Nightshadow.” she said softly, her voice going in deep, before she giggled softly. The dark look was pasted over a more playful and light personality, it would seem, but she kept up the facade well.
“I get a private dance example, then?” I asked, suddenly feeling myself becoming aroused.
“Yeah: Yeah you do. It helps me pass the time on these long, slow nights.” she said, very seriously. I nodded to her.
“Fine by me.” I stated, resting on the tattered couch in jeans and a torn green T-shirt, which was two sizes too big.

She moved over beside me, and turned on a CD player. Some manner of rock song came on, and she hit the forward button, changing it to something spicy. It was a techno version of something I recognized, but could not quite put a finger on. She held still, her eyes closed, getting in the mood, before she leaned back, stretching, and bringing that beautiful booted leg up, almost to her chest, but her leg closed enough that I could not see up that miniskirt. I saw the white cleft of her ass though, showing she wore nothing underneath. I groaned inaudibly, hardening instantly in my pants. I adjusted myself as she leaned back, not watching, in time for her to start moving to the music, crossing those legs, and raising them in a slow, and highly erotic dance that seemed almost entirely designed to draw attention to the legs. It suddenly became obvious why these were the prize. A dance contest for the best legwork. The prize being something precious to adorn those legs with. She danced like this for a long time, before coming up to me, and then dancing closer, and closer, finally putting a booted foot up onto the couch, and pressing her knee to my shoulder, letting me reach up and caress that smooth snakeskin boot, shimmering obsidian in color. I released a long, shuddering sigh, closing my eyes, as I felt her other knee come up beside my hip, and she straddled my lap, bringing her chest to my face, stroking up and down in a very deliberate lap dance. I writhed a bit under her attentions as she squeezed her legs around my thighs, letting me feel that smooth snakeskin with hands, and pressing against me. I gasped loudly, as she reached down, and squeezed my cock through my pants.

She smiled at me coyly, and I felt the soft vibration of my zipper falling, as my hands stayed on the back of her boots, down her thigh, near the bends of her knee. The material looked thick and sturdy, but was amazingly flexible and pliable. She unbuttoned my pants, as I stayed silent, and she pulled out my thick cock, already a little wet with pre cum. I released a long, low groan, as I felt her hand slide up and down, smearing my pre cum up and down my shaft, getting me nice and slick. I knew what was coming. And I wasn’t going to put up a struggle. She brought herself forward, pressing her round, firm breasts against my face, holding my shoulder with one hand, and guiding my cock with the other, as she sank down, her skirt riding up easily as her hot sex consumed my throbbing length. She was wet, tight, and searing hot. My breath was stolen away by that intense pleasure.

I held her tighter, squeezing her milky thighs through those wonderful boots, which traced the lines of her legs so well. She began to roll her hips, riding me soft and slow, and then, as her breathing deepened, and she began to pant, she started to take me hard and fast. I was sure anyone in the bar could hear her, as she moaned lustfully. Nightshadow cried out a number of obscenities, rocking her body hard against mine, and I felt myself slipping. Having not expected this treatment, and having gotten worked up already watching her dance, I was more than ready. I gripped her ankles, as she slammed herself against me, soaking my thighs as she climaxed, pressing her chest to mine, wailing a stifled scream right into my ear. I grunted, and tensed up, and sent wave after wave of liquid heat deep inside her, my fingers clutching at those shiny boots, even as she held me tight, shaking with release, gasping into my ear as her pussy convulsed around my spurting cock. We fell into silence, as we rode through our afterglow together. Nightshadow would have a new permanent patron to her bar, of that one could be certain.

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