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They weren't my favorite boots by any means but, they were so comfortable and just a tad higher than the pair I can still run in today. I've been letting go of many well worn heels. Tossing three pair of kitten height oldies a month ago hardly even registered. The minute they landed in the trash, I knew I wouldn't forget them, yet with how closely they resembled the more favored pair, I decided to grab the sad photo of them there; in the trash. I thought of how often they had gone in for heel replacement...twice to others before a true cobbler was found. His grin so easily recalled 'til this day.
Hours afterward and the boots come back to the forfront of my thoughts. Fragments of memories start flashing and there it is; the reason they hold such energy. Those were the boots I wore when I first put my heel in a man's ass. I can see lips sucking the heel, putting a condom up the four and a half inch heel, and I clearly see and feel all over again right here typing this, rushes of energy as I watched myself press it in.
The good, bad, or ugly of it is that I honestly can not recall which one of them it was I did THAT with.
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