Stiles’ boots. He loved a lady in boots. Her's were covered with a thin layer of dust from the trail. He imagined cleaning them with his tongue.A... he was finishing up the sixth and final switch, Ms. Stiles noted his interest in her footwear. “Are you looking at my boots?”“Yes, ma’am.” “So, you’re not just the sort who likes to be spanked, you’re also the sort who’s obsessed with women’s shoes?”“Boots especially, ma’am. Your's are lovely.” He was breathing heavily. “May I kiss them?” The. We laugh as I roll you over; we’ve left the safety of the blankets and the grass tickles and caresses our skin. But we laugh into each other, twisting and turning like nothing is left but us two, as if the moon did not stare at us in witness.My lips leave yours in search of another; suddenly, they’re at your ribs. I sow kisses like crops, a field planted on your chest, the tallest crops above the mountains of your areolas, seeds flying back down. My lips move to your thighs, where I kiss every. More

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