Waltivia!!: those Shoes
For weeks her feet had hurt.
Not that this should be any sort of major surprise, but the numbness of the first week had turned into constant pain. Astrid had imagined that they pain would dissipate into that numbness again.
But much like her secret crush, it never did.
Days were about beakers and utters and bleeders. The endless spectacle of sthe spectacular was a ridiculous display of the fantastical. And of course with all of this amazing around, no one ever looked down.
She had been wearing those gloriously jacked up Jennies for two weeks and no one had noticed. They were far out of the budget of the junior agent, on sale fifty percent off was still outside of the reach of her checking account.
But that is why God created Visa.
Astrid was sure the shoes were going to end her, but they made her feel so good and so right and so-fuckable. She couldn’t decide on the sensible leather loafers when they paled next to the dazzling four inch heeled wonders. Her closet seemed smaller with them in it, smaller and shabbier.
But in those shoes she felt the Goddess within her.
A cool draft behind her swiveled her curls and made them dance. A slight cough brought her head around to catch the intruder into her reverie. Astrid had been alone in the lab since Walter’s latest obsession with Taco Bell.
And yet, there was someone behind her. Someone in her space. Astrid felt her instincts kink in as a shudder ran up her abnormally bare legs.
“Nice shoes.” Olivia’s breath kissed her lobes with the words. A shudder ran along the path tracesd by the senior agent’s long index finger. “Your feet must be killing you.”
Astrid’s breath caught in her chest as she nodded in ascension. Olivia’s hands came around her waist as she leaned into her presence. She didn’t want to kill the moment; Astrid knew this Olivia was like a feral kitten you have been trying to tempt with a bowl of milk. Make the wrong move and she will never come into your backyard again. And Astrid wanted her in her backyard.
“Are they?” Olivia asked her ear again.
“Hmm….?” Astrid felt like a stupid fourteen year old boy who just learned about the stranger hand
A soft chuckle escaped Olivia’s lips as she began to make gentle circles on Astrid’s abdomen. “”Your feet? Are they killing you?” she asked again, this time nipping softly on Astrid’s neck.
Astrid rolled her neck along the path of nibbles and giggled. “Not half as much as you are…”
Not that this should be any sort of major surprise, but the numbness of the first week had turned into constant pain. Astrid had imagined that they pain would dissipate into that numbness again.
But much like her secret crush, it never did.
Days were about beakers and utters and bleeders. The endless spectacle of sthe spectacular was a ridiculous display of the fantastical. And of course with all of this amazing around, no one ever looked down.
She had been wearing those gloriously jacked up Jennies for two weeks and no one had noticed. They were far out of the budget of the junior agent, on sale fifty percent off was still outside of the reach of her checking account.
But that is why God created Visa.
Astrid was sure the shoes were going to end her, but they made her feel so good and so right and so-fuckable. She couldn’t decide on the sensible leather loafers when they paled next to the dazzling four inch heeled wonders. Her closet seemed smaller with them in it, smaller and shabbier.
But in those shoes she felt the Goddess within her.
A cool draft behind her swiveled her curls and made them dance. A slight cough brought her head around to catch the intruder into her reverie. Astrid had been alone in the lab since Walter’s latest obsession with Taco Bell.
And yet, there was someone behind her. Someone in her space. Astrid felt her instincts kink in as a shudder ran up her abnormally bare legs.
“Nice shoes.” Olivia’s breath kissed her lobes with the words. A shudder ran along the path tracesd by the senior agent’s long index finger. “Your feet must be killing you.”
Astrid’s breath caught in her chest as she nodded in ascension. Olivia’s hands came around her waist as she leaned into her presence. She didn’t want to kill the moment; Astrid knew this Olivia was like a feral kitten you have been trying to tempt with a bowl of milk. Make the wrong move and she will never come into your backyard again. And Astrid wanted her in her backyard.
“Are they?” Olivia asked her ear again.
“Hmm….?” Astrid felt like a stupid fourteen year old boy who just learned about the stranger hand
A soft chuckle escaped Olivia’s lips as she began to make gentle circles on Astrid’s abdomen. “”Your feet? Are they killing you?” she asked again, this time nipping softly on Astrid’s neck.
Astrid rolled her neck along the path of nibbles and giggled. “Not half as much as you are…”