Legs in a Bookstore

>> This is a part of a series including my story Legs in a Coffee Shop. That story came first, but they can be read in any order. <<

Ah, bookstores.

I love to read, the smell of books, and I really enjoy those big two-story bookstores that let you get lost among the stacks. I can spend hours in one of those stores just wandering the aisles looking for a lost treasure. This time my treasure wasn't Dickens or Emily Bronte. No, this time my treasure was you. Your hair was up in a sloppy ponytail, and you wore a white dress shirt and a charcoal colored skirt. Your stockings were dark, and you wore high heels. You were probably a secretary on lunch, or on your way home early. We passed each other once or twice, and we smiled politely when our paths crossed. I couldn't help feeling sorry for your poor feet.

On the second floor, at the far end of the references section, I got up the nerve to speak to you. You had your back to me and I said, "I'm sorry, but I'm sure your feet are killing you." You looked at me for a long moment and then down at your high heels. You nodded and then said, "Yeah, I'll probably have to soak them when I get home."

I figured it was the moment of truth. You would either say yes and everything would be fine, or you would say no and I'd never see you again. Either way, I couldn't resist the temptation. "You know, I could lend a hand. Just to get you the rest of the way home. They probably really hurt."

"Yeah," you say, a little nervously. You look around and step closer to the bookshelf. "I-I guess so."

I step closer and I whisper, "I'm not going to do anything you don't want, okay?" You nod and I drop to one knee in front of you. I can hear your breathing speed up as I gently brush the back of my hand over your thigh. Your stocking is silky smooth, and your muscle is tight underneath. I slide my hand lower, to the knee. My fingers rub the soft flesh behind the knee and you sigh. I look up and see you gripping the bookshelf with both hands. I kiss your thigh as my hand slides over your calf.

I lift your leg until your foot rises from your shoe. I have a love hate relationship with high heels. I love how they look, but I hate what they do to one of my favorite parts of the female anatomy. Fortunately, I make the best of a bad situation whenever possible. I move your foot forward until it's pressed against the front of my pants. I look up and see you watching me. "Is this okay?"

"Uh-huh," you manage to say. Your breath catches as you move your foot, trying to feel how big my cock is. I smile and part my lips, kissing your thigh again as I massage your calf muscles. I slide my tongue down, kissing you, massaging you as you move your foot against me.

I switch legs and you kick your already discarded shoe away as I take off your other heel. This time, you lift your foot and place it directly on my lap as I tease the tired muscles of your leg. You're getting bold, and I smile as I move my lips over your stocking. I massage your leg until the muscles relax, then move down and cup your foot in my hand. I lean back and lift the foot to my lips. I kiss the big toe and reach down with one hand. You watch, eyes wide, as I tug down my zipper and reach into my pants. I push my underwear out of the way and pull my cock through the open fly.

I wait until you give me the tiniest nod, then I reach up and under your skirt. I find the laced edge of your stocking and rolled it down your leg. You bend your knee and move your leg to help me remove the stocking, and I moan. There is nothing hotter than a woman lifting her leg, bending her knee, pointing her toe as a man peels a stocking away. I wad the stocking up and set it aside. Your foot is now bare, warm, and I move it back to my cock.

I slip my penis between your toes and you take over from there. You're leaning heavily on the shelf now, balanced on one leg as you squeeze me between your toes. You let my cock free, turn your foot, and push my cock up, rubbing the underside with the arch of your foot.

I stand up, cock bobbing, and take your hand. We walk to a nearby armchair and I sweep the seat clear. You sit down and I crouch in front of you. You grip the arms of the chair, perched on the edge like a queen as you press both feet against my cock. You watch as you stroke me, lips parted, watching my cock slip between the arches of your feet. I feel your bare skin on one side, stocking on the other, and I roll my head back on my shoulders. When I look again, you have one hand under your skirt, furiously rubbing through your black panties.

"I'm going to come," I whisper. "I'm going to come on your pretty little toes..."

"Do it," you pant, your butt rising off the seat, aching for me to be inside you. I thrust my hips, fucking your feet, and my come shoots out. It spatters on your thigh and ankle, dripping down over the top of your bare foot. When I'm spent, I lift your foot to my mouth and suck your toes, eyes closed as I suck each of your little toes in turn. I hear you panting, groaning, and your thighs close as you come. I slip my tongue over the arch of your foot, tasting my come as your other foot finds and toys with my softening cock.

Once we've both come down off our highs, I tuck my cock back into my pants and move back to where we started. I pick up your shoes and discarded stocking and carry them back. On my knees before you like a knight before a queen, I roll the stocking back up your leg (I have a lot of practice) and reverently replace your shoes. I look up at you and say, "Think you can make it home now?"

You smile, blushing deep crimson, and you nod. I stand up and offer you a hand, helping you out of the seat. You look down to make sure your clothes are in order, tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and look around to make sure no one saw us. "Thank you," you say.

"No, thank you." I lean in and kiss your cheek and you chuckle. "I hope to see you in here again."

"Count on it," you promise.

We part ways and you disappear down the An-Be aisle. I go the opposite direction, Je-Ki. I remember the feel of your tiny feet around my cock, the smooth length of your leg and your beautiful toes inside my mouth. I remember the sound you made as I sucked your big toe, and I move my hand down to squeeze my cock through my pants. I was going to enjoy revisiting today's encounter many, many times.

I opened my eyes and smiled at the tall, easy-to-get-lost-in stacks.

Oh, yeah. I definitely loved bookstores.