Flash Fiction Friday #2 – Red shoes

This story is dedicated to my fellow lustful lady, Lucy Fox, who has a great blog about her own sexual awakening.


It was the red shoes that did it. She had seen them in the shop window and couldn’t get them out of her mind. She couldn’t understand it; after all, they were so different from the style she normally wore. Her standard office uniform consisted of a knee-length skirt with a button down shirt and flat, sensible shoes. And in her own time it was jeans and a large sweatshirt. No sky-high, spiky red shoes adorned her closet. And yet she wanted them. Needed them.

She went into the shop.’If I only try them on, I will be cured of this ridiculous obsession,’ she thought. ‘I will then see that they are completely impractical and I will be able to put them out of my mind.’
How wrong she was. As soon as her feet slipped into the restrictive leather she could feel a change come over her. It was as if she woke up from a deep sleep. She knew she wouldn’t take the shoes off.
The shop assistant noticed the change too and smiled a wicked grin. ‘Shall I wrap them up for you?’ she asked.
She shook her head. ‘I’ll keep them on.’

Outside she felt stronger, bolder, sexier in her new heels. Many a head was turned her way and she smiled at all the men who looked at her. She imagined them stripping her clothes off, leaving only her shoes. She imagined their heads between her thighs, her spiky heels digging into their backs as they brought her to her climax with their skillful tongues and fingers. She imagined her legs stretched wide, the heels digging into the mattress as they fucked her hard.

She didn’t even bother going back to the office. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate anyhow. At home, she stripped herself naked, slowly, teasing herself. Her clit throbbed and her pussy was sopping wet. She pushed her sodden knickers over her hips and thighs, then stepped out of them. She lay down on the bed, her feet in the red, spiky heels on the edge of the bed as she spread her legs wide. She looked at herself in the mirror: her face flushed with desire, her pussy already swollen and glistening with desire. She used one hand to spread her lips wide and saw the core of her throbbing pussy, oozing juices. The sight of herself so wantonly on display drove her wild and she wished there was someone – anyone – who could see her now.
She couldn’t wait any longer. She slid her fingers through her slit, coating them in her juices, rubbing them all over her pussy. She slowly circled her clit, holding off her need as long as she could. She brought her other hand down between her spread legs and slipped two fingers inside. She started rubbing in earnest now, both her hands moving in unison, pushing her closer to the edge. She wished she had more hands; her nipples ached with the need to be touched. She felt the climax building and pushed herself over the edge, the fingers inside her rubbing her G-spot vigorously while her other hand flicked her clit back and forth with her fingernails.
And then she came. Her orgasm hit her hard. Her pussy clenched around her fingers, the juices flowing out of her, staining her bed sheets. She fell back exhausted, but not without another look in the mirror. How was it possible to become so aroused by one’s own reflection?

The shoes went in the closet, but not for long. She had awakened a beast inside her, a beast that needed constant feeding. Not long after, she spent a significant portion of her next paycheque on various sex toys which she immediately put to use. Next step: finding a man – or woman – whom she could share her sexual awakening with.

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