Boot Service and More – Chapter 9
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When I got up on Friday, I dreaded going to work. Not that I don't like my wok – I have a fairly cool boss and nice co-workers. I dreaded talking to Bubba. He was going to grill me about what happened Thursday night. And that he did.
I didn't even have my truck turned off when he was nearly running up to my truck with a shit-eating grin. I don't think I had ever seen him run let alone walk that fast in my life.
"What the fuck happened?" he nearly shouted.
"Shut the fuck up – keep it down!" I responded.
"Ahh, you got to tell me what he did?" he whined.
"I had a beer. I smoked a cigar. He licked my boots." I tried to calmly answer.
"More happened than that. You can't lie at poker and you can't lie to me." He added. It was true that I had a horrible poker face, and was trying as red as a beet.
I tried to get out of it by saying, "I'll tell you everything after work. Come over to my house for a beer."
"Ahh, okay. You better. Hey, before we start working, when did that guy arrive?" he asked.
"Well, about 5 minutes after you left." I replied.
"I fuckin' knew it. I passed the most expensive car that I have ever seen in this county!" he said as we walked over for the start-of-the-day meeting.
The day was uneventful for the most part except for weird looks from Bubba and some snide boot remarks that he could fit into conversation that only I would understand.
He told me that he had to swing by his house first to ask permission to come over, and then he would be over to my place which was good because I could pick up the empty beer cans and clean the ashtray.
Bubba walked up the deck steps and immediately said, "What's in that box?"
I hadn't even noticed a cardboard box pushed up against the new wall separating my new deck spaces.
"I don't know." I said.
"Let's open it," Bubba replied and started ripping into the box like Christmas morning.
"Hey! Hey! Slow down!" I said and jumped in to slow down Bubba's box destruction. "I'll open it." I added.
The box didn't seem like a it came from a store because there was no return address, just my address. I ripped the last bit of tape off, opened the flaps, and closed it as fast as I could.
"What the hell is in there." Bubba nearly shouted.
"Nothing important." I tried to calmly respond while picking up the box away from him.
"No, you don't. That boot guy sent you something again. Show me!" Bubba pulled the box from my arms and looked inside.
"What the fuck?" Bubba exclaimed.
I was just as surprised as him. On top were two packages of cotton gray boxer briefs like the ones that I wore yesterday evening when Boot Boy visited. Under them, were several packages of fancy boxer briefs and regular briefs and tiny bikini briefs of different materials. At the bottom of the box were several shiny boxers which I learned were silk when I read their labels.
"Why the hell did the guy "licking" your boots send you undies?" Bubba asked.
"Let's get a beer and cigar and watch something on the new TV and I'll tell you everything." I regrettable said. Bubba and I got a fancy beer and a cigar.
As I gave Bubba a cigar, he understandably said, "You need to ask him for better smokes. These are okay, but I bet he could get you some really good ones." He wasn't wrong about that. I bet Boot Guy had a connection for really good cigars.
So, I gave Bubba the full story of last night, the piss, the ass-licking, using his face to jack off, and then throwing my cum-stained underwear at Boot Boy. While I was giving him the story, Bubba couldn't help himself but rub his own dick in his work pants. I had to re-adjust my cock and balls a little too as I re-lived the events of the previous evening.
"You dawg! You are one hell of son o' bitch!" Bubba exclaimed. "You get cash and beer and a new TV and now fancy undies!"
I smiled back at him and blushed again.
Bubba and I finished one beer and then a second, but changed the subject to how different stuff looked on the new high-definition TV. He left after awhile and I looked through my box of new underwear. I decided I should keep a couple of those pairs for date nights – chicks might get impressed if they saw them.
The rest of the weekend was fairly low key. There was no poker game so I just did stuff around the single wide. It was pretty much summer now so I had yard work to complete and I was able to use my deck more.
On Sunday evening, I got the expected email from Boot Boy, "Dear Booted Sir, I was truly honored last week to serve you. I hope my small tokens of appreciation arrived and were acceptable to you. If not, please let me know how I can truly show my thankfulness to you. I have enjoyed the pair of underwear that you gifted to me. Your essence has filled my senses ever since I received them, and respectfully ask that I might be able worship you more. Your Boot Boy."
Okay, okay, I know – this is getting on the far side of weird. I figured out that he was happy to give me a gift. He enjoyed my used underwear – perhaps more than I anticipated. I have no clue what my essence might be – does he mean my cum load? And I have no clue what "worshipping" me "more" would entail.
"Hey, I don't about any of that. Thanks for the kick-ass TV and the underwear. What do you mean worship? What do I have to do?" I emailed back.
"Dear Booted Sir, I ask you to do no more than relax and allow me to give you pleasure. You only have to sit and enjoy my gift of beer and a cigar. It is my responsibility to provide you with enjoyment. Your Boot Boy"
"Okay, I guess that is okay. I'm still confused on what you want to worship, but okay." I responded
"Dear Booted Sir, if it is acceptable I will send you another gift. It should explain how I wish to serve my Sir. If the gift and its intentions are unacceptable, please inform me. I am willing to serve you in any way which you permit. Your Boot Boy."
"Okay, that makes sense. Tuesday night at 7."
"Sir, yes Sir!"
When I got home on Monday afternoon from work, there was a new box sitting on my deck. Once again, it wasn't from a specific store – no return address. And it was larger than the box of undies. I opened it up and pulled out a contraption that I had never seen before. It had a label "Rim Seat." I unwrapped the "Rim Seat" thing and then saw the directions for assemble with its intended use. I couldn't help myself, but I screwed in the legs and all and then sat it in front of me.
So, I'm suppose to sit on this low-slung toilet seat and Boot Boy would crawl under my ass and lick it. He wants to lick my asshole! He wants to lick my bike-riding, carpenter-working, asshole.
I sat back in my chair and looked at this rim seat contraption. I am embarrassed to say, my cock got hard slowly while I thought about having my ass licked. Fuck! My stupid cock shouldn't get hard thinking about that. My mind went to all kinds of places thinking about abusing Boot Boy and forcing him to eat my ass like I eat pussy. I pushed the "gift" away from my chair with my boot and tried not to think about it for the rest of the evening. I wasn't successful.
Tuesday morning started out like normal and just like clockwork, I received a Boot Boy email to confirm his visit. He didn't say a word about the rim seat or any expectations regarding what he would be allowed to do for me.
I responded back, "Bring me $50 and a handful of cigars with the beer. Be on time." I know as if I need to add that.
"Dear Booted Sir, it would be my honor to provide you with those. Your Boot Boy."
Bubba was talking to me during lunch, but I was in my own head about what I just agreed to. He asked me what was up and I just hemmed and hawed and changed the subject.
At the end of the day, I got home and looked at the rim seat contraption. I didn't want to use it, but I really wanted to find out what it would be like to have my asshole eaten. I can confidently say nearly every woman that I eat out, said I was great at it. Yes, they might say that to any man who was willing to give oral sex without necessarily receiving a blowjob back. I don't have to have a BJ if I eat pussy – its nice when it happens – but I do sort of expect some fucking if I go to the trouble. Does that make me a dick ...
I had enough time to have some chow and my first beer. That's when I decided that I won't make a decision until I make a decision, but just in case I should be prepared. Boot Boy didn't appear to care about hygiene so I didn't shower, but I also didn't want him on my bare `nads. The best way to protect my nuts would be to wear a jockstrap which I had somewhere in my dresser.
I found a jockstrap that easily was from my high school baseball or football years. It was old and stained and luckily the elastic was only half way shot which was good because I was a lot bigger around the middle than I was in high school. I was able to tug on the jock and there was enough elastic for my balls to be contained between my thighs.
I got my nuts all arranged and I pulled my work jeans back on. I left off my hi-vis t-shirt and pulled on my leather motorcycle riding vest. I thought I looked good in it and as hot as it was outside, it made sense this evening. I kept my work socks on but wore my engineer boots.
I was sprawled out in my deck chair having a beer and smoke when Boot Boy arrived. It was sort of obvious that he was attempting to find the rim seat thing, but I had moved it away from the deck seating area. He dropped off the money, case of Bud Light, fancy six pack, and a variety of cigars.
I told him to assume the position, and made him wait 20 minutes before I ordered him to clean my boots. I had gone for a short ride over the weekend so he was able to give my boots a touch-up cleaning from the last time he worked on them.
The beer finally affected me and I told him to assume the position just as he finished up my boots. I bent down and tied my handkerchief around his eyes again, and then told him to roll on his back. I knew immediately that he thought he was going to get to rim me, but I had not made that decision yet. So, I toed off my boots and just rested my socks on his face. My size 10.5s nearly covered his whole face in this position and to really do him justice I slide my chair closer to him so I could put some weight into my resting feet.
He was tonguing and sniffing my feet like crazy. My socks had the sweat sucked out of them, but they were getting soaked with spit. With him blindfolded, I moved my feet around on his face and tormented him because he didn't know where a foot would land. I was on my third beer and was feeling onery mainly because I still was torn about using the rim seat. So, I took a big swig of beer and moved my feet off his face and let loose with a full mouth full of beer spit all over his face.
He just laid there and moaned. I laughed and smirked and then let a big wad of spit spray on his face without the beer. He moaned even more.
I told him I was going to get more beer which I did but I also picked up the rim seat and brought it next to my deck chair. I sat it down quietly and I don't think he knew it was there. While I was standing there, I pushed my left foot into his mouth and told him to pull off my sock with his mouth, which he did. We repeated that with my right foot. While I was vertical, I quietly pulled off my work jeans and was standing there in my vest and jockstrap.
I sat back down in my chair and put my bare soles on his face. He was licking and sucking my soles and then my toes when I started moving them around on his face. I was moaning while he was doing it and he was moaning into my feet as well.
With all of that licking, I finally made my decision. I toke my feet off of his face and told him to freeze. I gave myself another minute to change my mind but I didn't. I picked up that rim seat contraption and gently sat it over his face. Just as gently, I sat down on the seat and its spring dropped my ass directly onto his face.
He quickly realized what had happened and sent his tongue up to figure out what was where and then slide his body around a bit so that his face was directly under my asshole. That's when I felt it; I felt a man push his tongue directly into my wrinkled ass hole. At first it was just a gentle probing into the hole, followed but lots of licking all around the hole. He added some licks to my taint and even tongued the spot where the leg straps of my jockstrap met the pouch. He moved back to my asshole and started working it over more. The probing variety from licks to the rim of the hole to his tongue drilling in.
At first, I just clamped my ass hole tight. I had no clue what to expect or how my body would respond. Pretty soon I was responding like most women that I ate out – I was moaning and groaning and my hole just relaxed around his tongue. I had no clue that there were any "feel-good" nerves in a man's asshole. Yeah, I know gay guys get screwed in the ass and obviously like it, but I wasn't gay. Was I? At this point all I cared about was pushing my ass down onto his face and open up my asshole a little more.
Boot Boy just was feasting on my sweaty ass. I could feel him finding new nerves in spots I never knew existed. His tongue would drill in deep and then just lightly on the edges. Next his tongue was all over my wrinkled muscle of my ass. My God, I got to remember some of the moves for the next time I ate a pussy.
Needless to say, my hand traveled to my jock pouch and I started stroking while I was slowly bouncing down on to Boot Boys face. And that's when I realized that I should really turn around because that would place his mouth on my ass and my nuts in his nose. His nose kept hitting crack and it was a bit annoying.
I told Boot Boy to freeze and I stood up, spun the rim seat, and sat right back down with my asshole on his mouth and my balls on his nose. I don't know how he was able to breath in my sweaty ball sweat through his nose while drilling his tongue in my asshole. Ahh, if this is what it is like to be ass fucked, I can see why gay guys do it and I also wonder why chicks don't let more guys drill them there too.
I was no longer needing to bounce on his face between his nose nudging by nuts and his tongue swiping and drilling my hole, I was able to just relax. Now, I understand what he meant by "worship!" And with all of this worship, my hole just was relaxing onto his tongue. Don't jump to anything raunchy. I just felt good and relaxed – nothing more!
With me facing the opposite direction, I had lost track of where Boot Boy's hands were or better yet what they were doing. I finally looked over my shoulder to the TV and saw that he was rubbing his own crotch.
"Stop jacking! If anyone is gonna cum, its goin' to be me. And if you are lucky, I'll let you cum too!" I shouted. He stopped jacking and dropped his hands to his sides.
I think I just announced that we were into the weird part of the evening. Okay squatting my ass over a man's face so he can lick my hole is weird, but getting so worked up that I wanted to cum from it was extra weird. And that is where I was heading.
I just let him lick my hole and drill his tongue into me while I was stroking my hard cock under the mesh of my jock. He started to just drill in my ass and I started to just wank up and down. This caused my nuts to bounce down onto his nose where he got the full scent of my sweaty crotch. Faster and faster we both went and then I was at the point of no return.
I just gave my self one last tug and pushed my ass into his face as hard as I could with his tongue deep inside me. I was shooting as hard as I could imagine. The cum just started bubbling through the mesh of the jock and after several big drops had soaked out, one of them dropped off the pouch and fell onto Boot Boys forehead. I don't know if he knew what hit him, but I was too worn out to stop my cum from splatting on his skin.
I released my legs and bounced up a bit off his face. His tongue was still licking but only lightly pushing in my hole. I looked over my shoulder and saw the mound of his hard cock in his suit pants and took pity on him.
I stood up from the rim seat, grabbed my right boot, slipped it on, and walked over his body. I lifted up the booted foot and slowly stepped right onto his hard dick. This was the fist time that I had ever been in contact with anything below his head. I slowly ground my boot into his dick and when I was unable to push down any more, I started to twist my boot like I was putting out a cigarette.
Boot Boy just laid there and I think he was actually pushing his hips up toward me boot. I gave my boot about a half a dozen twists when I felt his cock throb and I knew he was cumming. Hell Yeah! I thought inside of my head. I got to figure out more ways to hurt this guy and see where his limits were.
I lifted my boot off his cock and looked at the wet spot that covered the front of his suit pants. I knew the bottom of my boot must be wet with cum as well so I just move my boot so that I could wipe any cum on the sole onto his nice white dress shirt. I scuffed the boot back and forth over his belly a couple of times and then sat my boot on the deck.
"I'm gonna go inside to get another beer. When you hear the screen door slam, get up and get your ass out of here. I better not see you when I come back out or you will never see me again." I barked at him. With that I just started walking to the door into my trailer trying to make my boot foot sound really loud and mean. I opened the screen door and slammed it extra hard as I walked in.
I didn't turn around to see it, but I heard Boot Boy jump up, and in the process, knock over the rim seat. He then ran off the deck to his car and was backing up as I stood behind the screen door out of his sight as he drove off.