Twitterotica – A #wankwednesday story: The importance of fuck-me shoes

9 Mar

They are the highest heels I’ve ever bought. In the mirror, I could see my feet point down, almost vertically, so it’s impossible to tell where my calf ends and my foot begins. My toes are squashed into the end. They are hideously uncomfortable.

And yet, they make me feel as if I’m floating, as though mere contact with the ground is no longer a problem I need to deal with. I am an angel, a heavenly figure in black — no fallen angel, either. There will be no falling today. My sheer dress clings to me in the right places. My make-up is better than I’ve ever managed it before. My nails are smudge-free and my hair remains unfrizzed. All that is down to the shoes.

They are the sexiness that I strive for, in my outfit, my perfume, my feather fascinator, my clutch purse. My ballet pumps are practical, comfortable, walkable. Those are my little pony shoes; these are my thoroughbreds–barely tamed and still dangerous. Putting one foot in front of the other is like jumping a fence in the Grand National, fraught with danger and thrilling to do and to watch. And this time, it is me, balancing as I did when I was little and wanted to be a ballerina. I am glad I did not wear the tights–my bare feet need all the grip they can muster against the soles as I walk, each foot  going in front and around, making my hips swing in a way I could never do unassisted.

All the while he watches me approach, smiling the way he does, and I’ve outdone him, this time. I’ve got him where I want him, this time, and he squeezes my knee when I sit and cross my legs, keeping one shoe flat on the floor, somehow, while the other swings free in relief. This time, it will be he who begs, he who kneels, he who pleads with me, to let him fuck me, and I will keep him dangling, the way my shoe dangles from my toes, and I will ask him what he plans to do to please me. The scales have tipped, because of these gorgeous, marvellous, fuckable shoes.


A story for the lovely Ruby Kiddell‘s #wankwednesday Twitterotica series. This week’s prompt was balance.

5 Responses to “Twitterotica – A #wankwednesday story: The importance of fuck-me shoes”

  1. Squeaky March 9, 2011 at 5:33 pm #

    Hah! Fucking glorious! 😀

  2. willcrimson March 12, 2011 at 3:19 pm #

    Love it. Great post. Very erotic.

  3. vanillamom March 22, 2011 at 10:49 pm #

    delightful…as the proud new owner of a pair of red fuck me heels…i could not agree more(well, except He is *always* in control!)

    (my shoes are featured at my blog header!!)

    and yes, definately get that point where the pain in the toes doesn’t matter on whit because you’re *flying*….


    great piece!


    • mehryinett March 22, 2011 at 11:36 pm #

      Ooh, new shoes! Squee! I will check them out.


  1. Balance « The Erotic Writer - March 9, 2011

    […] The importance of fuck-me shoes – Mehry Inett […]

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