Big Gals In Boots

I love big women. Big butts own my nuts.

Shapely is the only sexy.

And full figured women in high heeled boots make me weak.

If I am flipping through channels and stop on Oprah and see she is wearing boots, I get a hard on right away.

(Frankly, the only reason I stop on Oprah when channel surfing is to see if she is wearing boots. Some times I will stop and won't go on until I can declare one way or the other.)

I have seen pictures of Oprah in the morning, before her crew of professionals turns that rather scary morning visage into the smooth and lush face that adorns magazines in the check-out line. And even with that in mind, I go hard at the sight of her in boots.

With that in mind, you can imagine my reaction today as I stepped out of the office to grab some lunch and I saw not one, but three rubenesque women in boots walking down the street together. There was a pale skinned, big redhead with her tight jeans tucked into a pair of nice brown leather boots and a darker toned brunette in a long brown patterned skirt that was slit up high enough to reveal a pair or black, knee high riding boots as she walked.

But between them, leading the procession, leading their conversation, and leading in my heart, as a full figured ebony goddess that could make me cry with the wink of an eye. She strode along, ever half a step ahead of her two friends, with that air of confidence that seems to come naturally to black women. That air that allows them to make a completely unreasonable demand and make it sound not only like something you had better do right now, but that there must be something wrong with you if you have not yet snapped to it.

She wore a black leather coat over a tight skirt that flared at the hem just above he knees, below which she was wearing a pair of very well maintained black, high heeled leather boots.

They were going the opposite direction from my planned lunch stop, but I forgot all about lunch. I followed them from across the street, observing them, knowing that nothing would ever come of it, but unable to stop myself or my thoughts.

Of course, I could picture myself, naked and on the floor before that trio, at their beck and call, eager to please and subject to their scorn and derision. I would endure pain and humiliation to please them, to get the chance to kiss and lick their boots. I would dream of earning enough regard from them to be allowed to attempt to satisfy them by serving as their throne, my face nestled between thick thighs and under a magnificent butt as I strained to both pleasure them and gasp for breath underneath them.

When it comes to women in boots with full butts, I am the ass-kisser extrodinaire.

Handcuff Earrings

One of the project managers, a woman of course, was wearing a very interesting pair of earrings today.

They consisted of long, dangling gold chains that ended in hand cuffs which practically rested on her shoulders.

And she was wearing a very nice pair of tall, high heeled, black leather boots. They fit her perfectly too. Snug, but not so tight they looked like they were going to burst at the seams.

Fall is well and truly upon us, and boots are coming out of summer storage.

Of course, what could I say to this woman? I know what I wanted to say.

But I said nothing.

Men in Pain Suddenly Fades

I used to think the site Men in Pain was the web's true gift to me. It features men being tied up, beaten, and screwed with strap-ons by beautiful, and frequently boot wearing, women.

I highly recommend the site.

Only they now have a new site going.

It is called TS Seduction.

I am totally hooked.

The theme is about the same, only instead of women with strap-ons, this site features trans-sexuals that look like beautiful women but who need no strap-on to screw a man. They pack their own hard cocks under their seductive outfits.

I am so totally straight and yet when I go to this site I am completely transfixed, so to speak.

I want to be seduced by a tranny like these. I want to be made to suck their cocks in an attempt to please them. I want to be under their control while they decide whether my mouth was good enough or whether they should take my ass as well.

What does this mean?

The Passing of Winter

I love the Fall and Winter months.

Living in California, where warmth a blue skies are the norm, a few months with some overcast and rain are almost a relief to me. Something in me longs for the moody feeling of dark clouds and a chill wind.

And, of course, it is Fall and Winter when women are most likely to wear boots.

So as I walked to lunch today in the bright, warm sunshine, I thought back to the last overcast week we had and considered what I saw.

A big woman, weighing more than I, crossing the street in her sharply tailored black skirt suit and a pair of black high heeled boots that might have been custom made for her. She exuded a self assurance and power that made me want to follow in her wake. I pictured myself as her male administrative assistant, fetching and carrying for her all day long, then getting on my knees under her desk at the end of the day to help her relax, my locked in place by her powerful thighs.

A tall black woman in a pair of gorgeous burgundy suede boots that went up to mid thigh over her leggings. She was already tall, and in those boots she was taller than I am. Black women already intimidate me, so this ebony goddess, larger than life and striding down the street could have had me on my knees at a glance. I did not even have a fantasy on the spot about her, as I was sure I was less significant than a bug on the sidewalk as far as she was concerned. Still, I could picture myself gladly working hard, very hard, to earn a moment of her notice.

Two petite young Asian women in tight jeans and matching riding boots. Real riding boots, not department store knock-offs. They had thick soles and heavy leather shafts and a texture that would take a shine that was subtle yet a mile deep, if you worked very hard buffing and polishing them. They must have gone to a tack shop for them. As I passed by them, I could picture the two of them leading me to a remote barn or stable, suspending me from a cross beam, and then taking turns thrashing me with all their might before letting me drop to the floor. There I would polish their boots back to a dress sheen with my tongue.

And now Spring is at the door and all I can hope for is a sudden cold snap soon before most boots go back in the closet until Fall comes again.

Boots and Knickers

My favorite project leader was back in the building today and came over to talk to me. I am lucky it was because I was asking her for something, because she has such an air about her that I am afraid I could deny her nothing.

And that is the case on any given day. Today she had on a pair of very sharply tailored grey wool knickers below which she had on a magnificent pair of boots.

This woman has no plain boots. Every pair I have ever seen her wear are stylish, unique, and overwhelmingly sexy. Today's pair was no exception.

Today she was wearing a pair of caramel brown boots that looked both soft yet were buffed to a glossy sheen that simply oozed the word "expensive." I bet they are as smooth as butter to the tongue. Along the back of these boots were laces that went from the top of the boot, right below her knee, all the way down the back of the five inch high wedge heel.

The laces were, of course, primarily decorative rather than functional, but they were not a cheap or addition. They may have has some elasticity to them because the boots fit her perfectly.

That was my eye full for the day. And she even granted my meager request. I was so entranced I found three excuses to go up to her floor in hopes of another glance. I was rewarded with two additional views, including a walking-away angle that showed the laces on the back of the boots to good effect.

Leopard Print Boots at Lunch

Walking around during my lunch time today I saw a great pair of boots.

A petite Asian woman was sitting down at a bench having a smoke. She was dressed all in black, with a sweater, skirt, and hose. But her boots stood out. They were an animal print with a light cream colored base with dark spots that were black at their centers.

They were very nice boots to start with. They had spike heels that helped for a nice clear arch and they fit her calves and ankles quite snug.

But the bright animal print pattern, when contrasted with her black outfit, made them stand out like a lightning bolt. The only thing I would have added were matching gloves. That would have been perfection.

The boots were so nice that I even violated my "no gawking" rule and stared at them quite openly. She noticed, of course, but clearly had no use for a tall Anglo staring at her footwear. She glanced up at my face then turned her head to exhale smoke with a slight sneer on her face.

Of course, the sneer just made the whole encounter that much better.

I myself have no use for smoking, but I would put up with some to get close to a pair of boots like that again.

Lock It Up

I suffer from... or rather, women I have known have suffered from... a number of very common male problems. One of they key ones is that, as soon as I ejaculate, my interest in sex, romance, women, and anything requiring any effort, goes out the window.

I am a typical male. Once I have shot my load, I will roll over and fall asleep.

Call me a pig. I know it is true. Men are commonly limited in their sexual stamina, despite boasts to the contrary. They do not have the advantage of being multi-orgasmic like many women.

There is an answer to this problem of course, don't let your man cum. Easier said than done of course.

A man who wants to cum will do anything to shoot his load. Even when well-meaning and eager to please you, if a guy feels the need, he'll get himself off. And if you think you can put him off, tease him a bit, then think again. He'll go off and masturbate to get himself off if need be. That will take the edge off of his passion and reduce a woman's hope for pleasure.

There is a solution to this. This male problem can be solved via enforced male chastity.

I will write about devices that I wear or have worn in the past, but rest assured, I speak from experience in this regard.

There are varying degrees of enforced male chastity, but the basic elements are a device that prevents male ejaculation (or arousal in some cases) and a way to secure said device so that the male in question cannot remove it without permission of the woman who has decided to take control of his sex life.

A lock with a key is the common method, though there are other ways, less secure but verifiable. Unless a woman is in a position of absolute authority to discipline the male, it is better to use a lock.

How long should you keep a man in such a device. Well, if you search the web, you can find all different answers. There are testimonials from women who say that a man should never be allowed to touch his own cock. They say that such an arrangement gives you total control, bonds a man completely to you, makes him your willing and pliant slave, because he knows all his worldly pleasure comes from you.

On the other end of the spectrum, there is short duration chastity, with which I am experienced.

Short term is usually a weekend for me. Locked up by my wife Friday before I head to work with the promise that I will be let free in time to head to work Monday morning. She isn't much of a dom, but she knows the power this gives her. She usually dangles the opportunity of early release as an incentive if I perform well.

I almost always win early release. By the time I get home on Friday night, the constant restraint of my cock having kept sex on my mind all day (not that I need much to do that) I am eager to please. And she is usually there, wearing boots, ready to be pleased.

She likes to start slow. We have dinner, I clean up and wash the dishes (I do that every night already) and then she will suggest that we relax and watch some television. Of course, she will have rubbed up against me over and over as I cleaned up, even inviting me to give her ass a little dry hump before telling me, "Maybe later."

We will watch TV. She will lay on the couch after I have sat down, resting her boots in my lap, nudging the restraint on the cock. After we are done, it will be time for me to strip and be ready while she puts on something more comfortable.

Usually she leaves the boots on and leads me back to the bedroom. She likes to have me start by fingering her. She enjoys my finger work and will usually ride out an orgasm on that before moving on.

Then the oral exercised begin. I bury my face between her thighs and go to work until I am told to stop. She admits to not liking oral all that much, but she does like making me do it because it is a good measure of my enthusiasm. Finally she will select a dildo and have me wear it in a harness and screw her through several positions until she is finally worn out.

Then it is time to sleep. She is tired. I take off her boots and put them away, rub her back for a little bit, then she goes to sleep.

Of course, I can't get to sleep. Not right away. I am as horny as can be. If I am lucky I can calm down in about an hour and fall asleep.

Saturday is about chores for her. Chores and back rubs and foot rubs and fetching things.

Saturday night she likes to rev me up a bit more, so she'll have me do some things that she knows will get me going. I might get to select the boots she will wear and I will certainly put them on her. Then she will have be kiss the boots, suck the spike heels, and generally indulge my fetish.

The she might tie me up and play with me, or give me a paddling, or have me lie face up on the bed and straddle my face and let me eat her while she grinds and moans on top of me. She will keep me focused on her while indulging me a little. Again I will bring her to orgasm again and again while my cock is held tight.

finally, if I have performed well, she will let me out and mount and ride me to climax. It usually does not take long. I have been on fire for two days and my cock is glazed in petroleum jelly used to keep things smooth in the device, so it can be a matter of sliding right in and shooting my load.

After that we both sleep quite well.

Of course, some times she keeps me in until Sunday morning for another round of fun for her. Once she even went until Sunday night. She has never kept me locked up until Monday morning. That is probably a good thing, as I would be a wreck at work.

So how eager am I after having been locked up and teased for a while?

I recall a cartoon I saw on the subject once that illustrates how eager to please men can be when locked up. It featured a woman lying on her stomach on a bed, looking over a list in her hand. He husband, his member locked up tight, is behind her, his face buried between her ass cheeks, obviously rimming her quite passionately. As she is looking at the list the woman is commenting, "Well, there is another item off your list of things you said you would never do. What is next?"

I would do that and more if my wife asked. In fact, one of my disappointments is that she won't demand more. I imagine her putting on the harness and screwing me with the strap on or just making me suck it clean after I have used it on her. I know I would gladly tongue ream her or do any number of things. In that state I am pliable in the extreme. I wish she would test my limits. Ah, such is life.