NOTHING BUT THE BOOTS
Sommer Marsden
Published by Xcite Books Ltd – 2011
ISBN 9781908086440
Copyright © Sommer Marsden 2011
The right of Sommer Marsden to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY
Winner of Jade Erotic Awards:
Erotic Fiction Publisher 2010
"Xcite has delighted its readers with a wealth of superb titles and first class storytelling. Their titles have far outstripped the others for both quality of the product and sensual erotic content."
Nothing But the Boots
by Sommer Marsden
Cat rummaged through the boxes. She’d bought her monthly allotment of clothing for Lush and Ripe, two plus-sized stores with one-word names that always seemed to make her smile. Her eyes found those fabulous purple boots again.
“I really need them.” She said it sincerely to her own reflection. Her pink lips lingering on the word need. She’d been considering trying to seduce Sam the delivery man and wearing these boots and nothing else might do it.
She flipped open the box, ignoring the rest of the clothing and shoes that littered her studio apartment. The boots were the bomb. Her fingers tickled up the synthetic material that made up the shaft. It reminded her of a mix of well-worn leather and patent leather. “Superhero boots,” she muttered.
Her eyes found the clock even as her fingers fondled the footwear. She had time. Her brand new assistant was supposed to arrive today, but not for another hour. Cat knew it was crazy, impulsive and just plain stupid, but she did it anyway. She shucked her tight-leg jeans, her tee and her knickers. She stood there, in her abundant fullness and nothing else. Wide hips that curved up into a smaller waist, large breasts, ample belly, and kick-ass legs. Her legs were a deadly weapon, she thought. The boots would make them look fierce.
“I have to test what I’ll look like when I put the moves on Sam in nothing but these boots.” She sat on her bed, which was smack dab in the middle of her studio apartment. It sat in a patch of sunlight, its weathered white antique frame squatting squarely in the middle of her wide-planked hardwood floor.
She took all the packing out of the boot and felt a nearly sensual arousal course through her. It was very easy to imagine greeting Sam in just these decadent purple boots and then having him attack her like a wild wildebeest. That made her snicker and her breasts swayed slightly, ticking her thigh as she started to pull the boot up over her foot and ankle. Mid-calf they were stuck, arrested in their upward momentum.
“Uh-oh.” The material was not nearly as giving as she had expected and, due to the nature of synthetics, the heat of her body had caused the shaft to stick on her leg. Tight.
Cat tried to yank it up to no avail. “Fuck no,” she groaned.
Then she tried to push it down. The boot would not budge. “These are so going back,” she growled. Panic swelled in her chest and she tried to suck in a great big breath to still her nerves. It was a boot. She wasn’t caught underground in a cave or anything, she was stuck in a boot. She rolled onto her back, splayed on the bed in all her naked glory – too bad she was alone! She hooked her fingers under the top of the boot and started to push.
“Move, you bastard! Move.”
Nothing. She couldn’t get it up, she couldn’t get it down. The foot bed of the boot dangled off her foot, mocking her, the heel pointing the wrong way toward the window.
“Baby powder?” she said, thinking aloud. But she didn’t have any.
Her mind raced. Lotion would make it worse, and the more panicky she got the more she sweated and the more she sweated the more she was sticking. “Cornstarch!” she crowed but then she remembered she didn’t have any of that either.
She sprawled there on her bed, one purple boot half on, defeated. And then –
The doorbell rang.
“No,” she whispered.
Cat grabbed her foot and yanked. She yanked and yanked and yanked and the doorbell rang again. Her eyes scanned the room. She was never going to get those jeans on over this Frankenstein boot. All her other clothes were still in the dryer down in the laundry room. And she didn’t have time to raid her closet because the doorbell was ringing yet again and someone was knocking on top of it all.
“Hello? Mrs Barbieri? Catherine Barbieri?” he yelled.
She groaned and rolled to her belly. Her eyes found the kimono and she felt hope. At least it was something.
“Yes! Hold please,” she sang out as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
“I’m Greg. Greg Irwin, I’m your new –”
“I know! I’m coming!” she yelled and pulled the kimono on. She held it tight to her waist, clenched in a death grip, but the peach and pale blue-patterned cover-up still hoisted and accentuated her generous cleavage.
Oh well, George would have to deal with it.
She stagger-stepped in her half-on boot to the front door and yanked it open , her mood already sour. There was no point in attempting dignity. “Come in, George,” she growled.
“It’s … um … Greg,” he said and took a tentative step inside.
He looked scared to death and Cat did not blame him one bit. Worst part was, she recognized this man. This was not her first meeting with Greg. She had met Greg at a singles event her friend Mary had dragged her to. She and Greg had shared some pretty steamy glances but had never had a chance to talk in the crowd.
“Of course it is. Sorry, Greg,” she sighed.
She saw him make the mental connection and he said “Hey, aren’t you – ”
“Yes, yes I am,” she sighed and turned her back to him and hobbled across the floor, trying very hard to appear unflappable in her silk kimono and her fucked-up footwear.
“I didn’t know my big boss would be –”
“Naked under a kimono and stuck in a stolen boot?” she asked.
“Naked?”
“Buck. Or is it butt?” Cat asked.
When she turned, clutching valiantly at the front of her robe, his face had gone red but his eyes took a very lingering tour of her anyway. He was very tall and lean and dark-haired, wolf-blue eyes peered at her from under a fall of too-long fringe that needed a trim.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“I personally like buck naked. As in skin, I guess,” she babbled, as if this were a perfectly ordinary conversation. Cat noticed – but tried not to – the slick warmth of arousal between her legs. The way young Greg was eyeing her up was turning her on. Almost making her forget her sweaty foot stuck in the pilfered boot.
“That sounds good,” he said.
“Coffee?” she asked, waving the carafe at him and trying to pour herself a cup one-handed.
“Sure.”
She poured two and he started to doctor his with sugar and cream. “Yours?” he asked.
“Two sugars, cream it until it’s pale,” she said. Then her cheeks went hot from her own words. “I like it light,” she amended.
They stood and sipped their coffee for a moment while he tried not to study her figure and failed. “So did you ever meet anyone at the … thing?”
“No. Never did. I
mostly went to make Mary happy.”
“You?” she asked, feeling her nipples spike at his gaze and willing them to behave and return to their normal state of being. She failed.
“Never,” he said.
He moved a step closer and said softly. “I wanted to come talk to you all night but that dreadful woman who ran the party kept interrupting me.”
“She wanted you,” Cat said. She looked at his body in those jeans and a white button-down and a dark grey sweater vest. He wore brown work boots and his hair was windblown. Of course that woman had wanted him!
“She did?” His confusion seemed genuine.
Cat laughed and his eyes followed her face. He smiled and her pussy went wetter.
“Yes, she did. The duhis implied.”
He shrugged. “News to me. I mean, I know you’re my new boss – if I work out, but I have to admit…” he trailed off.
Cat realized she was holding her breath. Her kimono had gaped open a bit and she watched his gaze travel over her outline. His eyes on her was as tangible as a touch and a stroke. She shifted and her kimono gaped. “Admit what?” she said, a bit too fast.
“I only had eyes for you that night.”
“And now your eyes are on me again,” she laughed, feeling her heart bang crazily.
“Because you’re standing in the sun and I can see right through that robe,” he admitted.
“Oh … God. I’m sorry!” she blurted.
“I don’t mind,’ he said and blushed.
Cat cleared her throat. “Ready for your first assignment?”
“I am.”
“Help me get out of this damn boot.”
Greg chuckled lowly and her stomach sizzled with the sound. She went to the bed and sat down. She put her leg up, her calf muscle standing out and her skin flushed with her arousal. “Ready?” he asked.
Cat nodded and was surprised – to the point of jumping a bit – when he first took his hand and ran it down her leg from her knee, over her calf, to the place where that damnable boot remained stuck. His fingers curled slowly into the lip and he caught the purple fake-fabric-from-hell (as she now thought of it) and he tugged gently, inching the boot down, a bit here, a bit there.
She tried to hold the robe closed and not seem turned on. She was failing. Her body was tensing with the effort of acting as if this was just no big deal.
“You have to relax,” he whispered, giving her the smile that had so captivated her at that singles event. He’d been so handsome and mysterious she’d even considered attending other parties to try and catch another glimpse of him. She hadn’t though, figuring someone as cute as him would have snagged a girl by now.
“Relax,” he said again.
“I’m trying!” she blurted.
When he bent his head and kissed the inside of her knee her whole body seemed to sigh with pleasure. Her mouth popped open in surprise and she shivered.
“It will make this all easier.”
“OK.”
He inched and wiggled and pulled and she-finally, finally! – felt the boot sliding grudgingly down her leg.
“You have very nice legs,” he said, touching her muscle.
It jumped and fluttered and so did she. “Thank you. God, don’t touch me,” she sighed.
He laughed. “I’m sorry. Am I fired?”
“Nope.”
“Am I hurting you?”
“Far from it.”
Greg went still and his cool appraising eyes met hers. “Then what?”
She shook her head. He tugged.
“What if I said please? Would you tell me then?”
He was almost to her ankle and suddenly she was afraid of when the boot did come off. “Nope.”
“Please?” he said anyway.
“You’re turning me on,” she sighed. “But then you knew that, didn’t you?”
His fingers, bold now, traced from knee to ankle and the boot popped free. He touched her instep and then kneaded the ball of her foot and she thought she might actually come.
“I was hoping. I probably should resign,” he said, pushing his lips to her knee again, then her calf. He kissed her ankle and said, “Let the robe fall open … please.”
All the many ways this was inappropriate flew through her mind like a tickertape but she did. She let it fall open and when he stood, studying her, she shifted with nerves and excitement. “Gorgeous. And what are the odds we meet up like this again? With you all damsel in distress and me all willing to help.”
He climbed onto the bed and leaned over her – not touching her yet, she noticed with frustration – and kissed her. His mouth soft and full on hers, tasting like sweet coffee and young man.
“The odds are staggering,” she whispered.
“I agree. And yet here I am. And here you are … naked.”
His hand covered her breast, stroking softly. Cat tried so hard to stay still but failed. She danced under his hand and he pinched her nipple just a bit and she gasped. “I am. I am naked,” she babbled.
His mouth followed his hand and he sucked so that she felt the tug and pull of her arousal go from nipple to cunt. “I like you naked. I liked you clothed, too. I really liked you in a see-through cover-up and one purple boot.”
“I looked stupid,” she said as he traced down the sides of her body with his warm hands. Her pussy flickered happily at the attention and her stomach quivered. She was caught between begging him to hurry and begging him to go slower.
“You looked captivating. Crazy blonde hair, flushed cheeks, those breasts … oh, sweet Cat, those breasts.”
She smiled but then he put his hand to her pussy and started to touch her. Greg stroked her outer lips and then parted them to touch her clit. He watched her face which turned her on even more. “May I?”
“Youmayyoumayyoumay …” she said in one long word like a chant.
He bent his dark head and pushed his face to her pussy. His tongue found the distended nub of her clit and he licked her. The flat of his tongue dragged over her and his thick fingers pushed into her. His other hand pinned the curve of her thigh to the bed and she felt both empowered and helpless and immensely aroused. When she came, he kept licking past the release point so that she jittered under him laughing.
“Condoms in the bedside table,” she murmured.
He found one, then lost his pants. His proper shirt and nice grey vest followed suit. His body was long and hard and the jut of his cock was just what she needed to see. He rolled the rubber on and when he was sheathed, climbed between her legs, kneeing them a bit further apart. He took the time to run his hands up her thighs, pet the flare of her hips and then follow the dip of her waist. Greg bent, pushing his tongue into her belly button the way he’d touched it to her sex.
“You can officially start work tomorrow,” she said. “For now, please … you’re killing me.”
His crooked grin only served to amp up the moisture between her legs and when he ran the head of his cock to the soaked split of her she grabbed his arms to steady herself. The world seemed to be moving in time with her pulse. “Stay still, boss,” he chuckled and then slid home.
Cat thought she would weep with joy. His cock nudged her perfectly so the very first tickling of orgasm rubbed up against her. Greg held her hips flush to the bed, bent his head and licked her breasts. Baby kisses along the left one before sucking the nipple and repeating the whole process on the right one. His thrusts were slow and measured, not in a hurry. The man was not in a rush.
Cat wrapped her legs around his waist and her body allowed him deeper. He groaned, moving his hands from her hips to trap her wrists high above her head.
“I wasn’t expecting such a spectacular first day,” he whispered. When he kissed her, his lips tasted like her own juices.
“Me neither, me neither,” she said.
“Boss lady?” he said in a teasing voice though his tone had grown thick.
“Yes, subordinate Irwin?”
He shut his eyes, hi
s fingers going tighter around her wrists, his hips moving faster. “I’m going to come, ma’am.” He was still smiling but his eyes were closed.
He thrust harder and Cat rose up to meet him, mashing his pelvic bone to her now tender clit. “Me too, I think. Me too. I keep repeating myself,” she said quickly.
And then she did come. She came and her orgasm made her tight around his cock. He lost his battle to hold it off.
She lay there, looking up at the sun-speckled ceiling, still in her kimono which was filleted down the middle, spread out on either side of her like great butterfly wings. Greg lay atop her, up on his elbows just enough so as not to crush all the air from her lungs.
“I feel like the universe smiled on me today,” he said. The look on his face said he was serious.
“For real?” she couldn’t help asking.
“Yes, for real. I kept … wondering about you.”
She had thought of him too, she realised – often, in fact. More than once he’d been the fantasy in her head as she masturbated at night. Heat rose in her face and she laughed. “Yeah, me too.”
“So, am I still hired?”
“I think we can totally see how it goes,” she said. “Probably improper but so is answering the door butt and or buck naked.”
“Be right back,” he said and he was gone. Perfect little toned man-tush disappearing toward the kitchenette. He returned with powdered sugar from her pantry.
“What’s that for?”
“Can you take off that kimono?” he asked, ignoring her question.
Cat shrugged it off and then he was sprinkling her legs with powdered sugar. He smoothed it over her skin and her eyelids fluttered at the soft pleasure he was bringing just touching her.
“What is this for?” Cat tried again.
“It’s to help me do this.” He slid the one purple boot on her leg and it went up effortlessly with the aid of the silken powder. Now why hadn’t she thought of that? He found the purple boot’s partner and slid it on too.
“Now what?” Cat asked. But his cock was already growing hard and twitching and his eyes strayed to the still open bedside table drawer where the condoms were.
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