Claire's shoelicker part two

Dave sat on the floor of his room at the hall of residence and opened the bag that Claire had given him earlier that day containing her football boots and socks. She played football twice a week, and thanks to Dave, she had the best kept boots of anyone in the girl's team. Those studs shone whenever she went onto the pitch.

Claire had handed Dave the bag during their session that afternoon. He would clean her boots and suck the sweat from her socks, before carefully washing and drying them, ready to return for her next match.

As he placed his hand in the bag and picked up her first boot, his hand felt mud. Quite a lot of mud. In fact, when he looked closer, both boots were absolutely covered in it. The studs on Claire's boots had an incredible habit of ripping up the pitch, which seemed to attach itself in the form of great clumps of earth and grass. He took a cloth, which he used merely for cleaning the lumps of dirt that even he didn't feel able to swallow and brished the underside of the shoes, removing as much of the mud as he thought reasonable before he approached the soles with his mouth open and eager. He always felt guilty if any of the mud from Claire's boots ended up anywhere other than his stomach. He felt that was by rights where it belonged and in a perverse way, the more he swallowed, the more of service he felt.

As he stuck out his tongue and began to lick... And chew... And crunch...he thought back to the moment that put him in this, his rightful place. It had been a party that Dave had organised in a flat he was staying at at the time. Claire had arrived with some friends and Dave couldn't believe she was there. It was probably because the party included plenty of free booze and food and Claire was also interested in one of Dave's friends, but anyway he felt garced by her presence. The evening carried on and gradually became more hazy, until Dave walked past the stairs and saw, outside the bedroom in which Claire and Dave's friend had ended up, the pair of black shiny leather loafers that she has slipped off her feet. They looked exquisite and so inviting and Dave had no choice in his mind but to take his opportunity and to enetre the bathroom, with the shoes in hand.

When he sat down in the bethroom, he saw that the shoes were quite dirty. There was mud smeared on the sole, and they were generally dusty on top. This would simply not do. So, for the first time, Dave did what he had done so often since and licked the shoes from top to bottom all over. By the time he finished they looked not quyite like new, but certainly clean enough for him to feel proud. He held the shoes to his nose and breathed in the heady, distinct and distinguished aroma of her foot sweat and felt truly in heaven.

He then crept out of the bathroom sensing that it was quite outside, the shining shoes in his hand, and was about to place them down on teh floor, when the door opened and Claire walked out.

"What the fuck are you doing with my shoes, dork?" she sneered at him. "What have you been doing with them - and why are they now so clean? Are you some kind of pervert?"

Dave whsipered back at Claire "I'm sorry, I..." and looked truly horrified she had caught him this way. He was speechless. She had a think for a moment, looked up at the air with a wry smile and then replied, "I know what we can do about this...."