Sex on the Beach by Miranda Forbes

Author:Miranda Forbes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2010-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Where the Legs Are

by Lynn Lake

I’ve had a thing for women’s pins and peds dating all the way back to the day I discovered my Aunt’s secret shoe closet, and breathed in the spicy leather and perspiration scent of those delicately crafted, carefully arranged foot-holders; aweingly admired the soaring spike heels and arching, worn-smooth inner soles; tremblingly caressed the smooth, shiny patent leather and soft, ruffling suede surfaces.

And then beheld my Aunt dressed up in a pair, when she caught me enthralled.

The dark-haired lady was standing strikingly tall and slender in a pair of three-inch, open-toed black leather heels, slim legs sheathed in shimmering, sheer nylons that ran up and up from the reinforced darker toe tips to the pleated hem of her thigh-high black skirt.

I was staggered, dazzled by the realization of the exquisite, elegant beauty of those spike-heeled peds and those skyscraper legs. My unblinking eyes travelling up from the toe-blossomed, curvy feet that the sexy shoes so sensually cradled, in and around and around the slender, finely-constructed ankles, up and along the straight, profiled shins and bunched calves, over the narrow, hard-shelled knees and all the way up to the lean, lightly-muscled thighs. Again and again.

And when the funeral was finally over for that long forgotten relative, I was right back in my Aunt’s closet, rubbing her shoes and sniffing her soles, licking the rounded and pointed and squared-off tips of her shoes, sucking on her stilettos. Discovering her underwear drawer and smothering my ecstatic face in her gossamer stockings and wispy pantyhose, which I drew out of the top drawer in great, soft, silken handfuls.

That was the fateful, footfull day I found my true sexual calling, and embarked on a young lifetime of chasing the perfect pair of peds, running after the loveliest pair of God-sculpted legs. Gym classes and track and field days and trips to the pool were never the same after that; with all that bare, brimming female leg-flesh on display, those cute little wiggly toes and prancing, high-arched feet.

Unfortunately, living in northern Canada meant that there just weren’t the viewing and seducing opportunities I craved after graduation. The long, cold winters forcing precious feminine lower limbs to take shelter and safety in cumbersome pants and boots. Like the Little Mermaid statue bundled up in a snowsuit.

So, I diligently scrimped and saved until I had just enough money and moxie to show my frozen hometown my heels and take a painfully slow boat ride to the idyllic tropical isle of Barbados. Where the legs and peds run free under the smiling sun, gleaming and glistening in all their natural glory. Or get dressed up to the nines and beyond and are exhibited in flashing dance steps, when the sun dips down into the heated ocean.

I walked the gangplank and almost swooned at the sight of all those luscious lower limbs swishing and swimming around in all the colors of the skin rainbow. Then I slipped through the gates of the Trade Winds Resort

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