The current Kink of the Week topic is boots… which I have lots of feelings about. On me, they make me feel confident and sexy. On others, I find them very hot. Today, though, I’m going to write about one pair of boots in particular…
Content note for ineloquent erotica that I wrote in 2018.
If you’d asked me six months ago – hell, six weeks ago – if I had a boot fetish I’d have said no. Then my kinky friend got a new pair of boots for Christmas., and this changed a lot of my feelings a little.
I can’t remember the first time he mentioned that he had got new boots – but I remember the first time they turned me on. He followed a photo of his boots – shiny, sturdy, extremely sexy – with one of him looking especially cute and confident. He was sticking his tongue out at me, playful because I’d called his boots sexy, and this equation, I informed him, was equated to my cunt being very wet.
Oh you really like them! Want to feel them on your back?
To that particular question, I responded with a oh-so-eloquent alhfgkrqwiy erufksjbjkhf. He was utterly delighted by how hot I found them – and indeed him in them. In the following days, he told me whenever he was wearing them, always careful to ask how my arousal was doing. To which, I must confess, my most frequent answer was that it was pooling in my knickers.
It was so hot, and I wasn’t subtle about telling him.
So hot. Want you to use your boots to push me down and then spank me and fuck me hard and fast – boots and jeans, only open enough to get your cock out, no shirt.
He looked so in control when he was wearing the boots, so fucking sexy. I’d never thought about someone using boots to pin me down before, but now my fantasies were filled with rough sex and dominants wearing boots. Make me filthy, I begged these figments of my imagination, walk all over me. Please.
He made me guess what he’d be wearing the next time he came to see me, and I guessed right.
I will literally get down on my knees and lick your boots in the station if you ask me to.
He said he’d remember that, but he didn’t make me. He kept them on when we got back to my flat though, forcing me on to my knees to suck him. All too soon he pushed me away and – smiling as I whined at the loss of his cock – forced me down further. I kissed and licked the soft leather, doing my best to unlace them and slip them off as he commanded me to.
There’s a slight chance I didn’t complete that task especially well – I got distracted. But don’t tell him that he missed out on the chance to spank me with his boots…
These boots were made for turning me on, apparently.
Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a queer, trans, disabled sex writer with vaginismus. He’s a slut and a sex nerd who writes about his adventures in trying to fuck without fucking up. Quinn can usually be found wearing stomp-on-the-patriarchy boots while falling in love every time he fucks.