Boot Service and More – Chapter 2
This is a work of fiction, the sole property of the author. It may not be reprinted or reused without his permission.
If it is illegal to read this where you live, leave now. If you enjoy the stories on this site, please donate to keep it going. Nifty needs our help: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.
On Thursday morning, I received the same confirmation email request from Boot Boy regarding the time and place and all. I responded back with an affirmative.
It was a slow day at the job site because half the lumber hadn't been delivered so we only could do portions of the framing. Without a work distraction, I started thinking about getting my boots serviced that evening. I wasn't going to have him lick the boots that I currently had on because they were covered in mud and I had sweated through them that day. I usually alternate boots during the week because I sweat a lot and I hate sliding my feets into wet boots first thing in the morning. If possible, I'll wear one pair one day and switch to another pair the next so that each pair has a day to dry out.
So, I decided that I should wear my pull on work boots for Boot Boy. Those boots aren't too worn out and I stomped off most of the job site dust on Wednesday night. Whatever was left I can stomp off when I put them on later.
Boot Boy came over promptly at 7:00 PM and everything happened pretty much the same as Tuesday night. The only difference was I got more chubbed up when Boot Boy was massaging my feets through the leather. I just assumed that it was because I hadn't jacked off for a couple of days.
What was different was I feeling horny, had a beer in one hand, and a cigar in the other. I then just started watching Boot Boy lick up and down my left boot uppers. I saw his had flat on the deck next to my right boot and I don't know why but I just turned my right boot on its heal and placed the boot sole over his hand. I slowly just pushed the boot onto his hand. Boot Boy didn't stop licking but actually started licking harder and moaning too. I think he also have the deck a couple of hip thrusts too, but I am sure it was too early for him to hump to completion – he had my right boot to clean.
I just left my right boot on his hand and would push down slowly and let up. Push harder sometimes and not so hard the next. My right foot was pumping down and up just like I would my truck gas pedal. Boot Boy just took it all and would go from deep moaning to hard tongue rubbing. I went from moderate chub in my wranglers to full hard on.
Pretty soon, Boot Boy had finished working on my left boot and quietly asked if he could service my right boot. I took the boot off his hand and told him, "Yes, Boy go for it." I think Boot Boy moaned when I said that.
He moved over to my right foot, slide up the wranglers, and started working on it.
I looked over to my left foot and his hand was conveniently next to my boot, actually touching it. This time I was figuring out that it was not just my boots that he needed to lick. He needed to be used and abused. I was feeling a bit horny and a little onery so I leaned over and I tapped my cigar over the top of his hand and dropped about an inch of ash on top of his hand. He didn't flinch. He moaned deeply.
I watched the ash fall and crumble on the back of his hand and then announced, "Huh, I dropped some ash. Don't want it to burn the deck." And then poured some of my beer on the back of his hand which splatted all over the place, even splashing beer and ash on Boot Boys white shirt and even his face. I added, "I better grind that ash out to be sure that its out." And you guessed it, I spun my left foot over his hand and this time lifted up my heal so that I could grind only the toe of the boot into his hand. I think his hand flexed when I did that, but not to push my off more to push up against my boot sole.
"Thank you, Boot Sir!"
WTF! This guy eats my boot dirt and wants me to abuse him, and I sitting here figuring out where his limits might be.
After Boot Boy finished working on my right boot, he didn't do the deck humping like the other night. He moved back to my left boot and started licking off the beer and ash that had splattered on it. My left boot was still resting on top of his hand and I was doing the gas pedal pumping again. I watched him clean off some beer and move to another spot. I leaned over and poured some fresh beer on the location that he just finished. I watched the beer splatter his face and shirt. He would move over to the wet side of the boot and lick it clean and I would pour some beer on the other side. I kept nearly constant pressure on his hand the whole time.
This went on for a couple of times and I saw that his hips started to thrust into the deck again. After the last beer splash, I decided to see if I could mess up his deck humping. I leaned over my right boot and took a big swig of beer and spit it onto the toe of my boot. Boot Boy raised up and looked at the beer spit dripping down my right toe. Yep, I thought I might have gone to far. But nope, he stared at the beer spit and then moved from my left boot over to the right boot and started lick up my beer spit like he was a starving man.
Boot Boy's thrusting went into overdrive, I started grinding my left boot hard onto his hand, and he was licking every inch of my right boot to find any remnants of my beer spit. Just like last time, the deck drilling ramped up and then stopped. He just went limp on the deck.
I just sat back and continued smoking and drinking and when I saw him start to stir, I stated, "You are free to go Boy."
"Yes, Booted Sir."
Once again, he crawled to the deck stairs, stood up, and then started walking back to his car. Just before he opened his car handled, I gave him a shout, "Next Tuesday, Boy!"
"Yes, Booted Sir."