Where angels fear

Published by Gossipmonger in the blog Gossipmonger's blog. Views: 126

Last night was a whole new experience for me. As though I'd graffiti'd a wall. Written the word cunt on it. Where everyone could see, and where I knew it was me that had done it. I know a girl who doesn't flush after she shits. Is that the same kind of thing? I don't know if I'm a fool, and when I look at some of what's on here...

But I looked, and I liked, and I don't claim to be an angel and I'm clearly a long way short of wild. I like wild. From a safe distance.

I said before, I know a man who likes women to walk all over him. If I'm honest, maybe what I like about that is that I like the women who are only too happy to grant his wish.

A long time ago now we met at the youth club. Don't you want me baby? He used to run me home sometimes. I never noticed much about what was on the floor of his car. It was messy, but I never twigged for ages that it wasn't messy the first time. If you get in a car and there's nowhere to put your feet then for a minute or two maybe you sit in some weird pose, but pretty soon if it's a long ride you give up on that.

Some girls wouldn't even go two minutes. Some girls, if they started to work out the deal, might even have started deliberately acting up to it. I guess. Some might even have done his tidying for him, instead. Not many though, these days.

The first time I was invited into his room there was an England Football Team poster on the floor. I could hardly get in without treading on it. Next time, there was no gap. Oh, well. I got used to it, those couple of steps, time after time, under my feet. In the end, he fessed up and told me that he really valued it. But it stayed on the floor. I liked it. It didn't turn me on the way it turned him on but... I wore flats and sneakers, mostly. Or no shoes. I never really hurt it.

We came back from a club once. Me, him, and two of my friends. It was late, and I took off my heels to go upstairs. They didn't. He opened his bedroom door... I watched them both walk in. I watched him watch.

I almost couldn't bear it. Cheap stilettos, worn and slutty. I would have moved it, I would have kept my own shoes on, I would have gone first.... I don't know, really, what I might have done because I never saw it coming and then it happened. I just watched and wept and... kind of understood. Just some shitty poster. All they'd done was tread on his shitty poster. Not on his lovely cock. What would it have felt like, if they'd stepped on his lovely cock, like it was some old bit of that on the floor? The cock that...

They didn't have a clue. Didn't want him to thank them by kissing their feet. That's not where we were, back then. Sprawled on his bed in their tarty dresses and high heels that they could hardly walk in, drunk... But even just that... My guy.. on that bed with them, after what he's just watched. Bitches. So how can that be hot?

He's not my guy now. But in a way, he's still so special. This big, bear of a rug. That's just on the floor, getting walked on... girls in dirty designer trainers, girls in sharp expensive stilettos that properly know how to wear them . Girls who put their feet on it and use it as a living cloth to get the crap off their floors....

Just stay right where you are, babe. And I'll just enjoy what they do to you...!

Maybe when your ready I'll stand on your cock, where my man is that much taller than me. Kiss him, while he enjoys it too?
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