Sonntag, August 05, 2007

When I changed trains...

... I saw a pair of beige ballerina mary-janes passing by. So I raised my look to see a woman of about 45 years of age trailing a light blue solid case behind her.
My attention was already hooked. I continued looking after her, she was passing two hot thirty-somethings, who I ignored.
She had the right age for me.
And she wore the right shoes!

I kept looking over to her.
She was spotting the train. That's when our eyes met.
I looked aside hastily.
Then I forgot about her somehow as the train was arriving and i got into it and looked for a calm, probably empty compartment.
I found one instantly, went into it, closed the doors.
I sat down and stared out of the window watching the accelerating landscape passing by.
Suddenly the cabin-door opened and a pair of soft ballerina mary janes blocked the passage. Beige as said they had two parallel straps running around her arched up inset, merged halfways with a compact floral knob.
“Here free?” she asked and
“Of course!” i responded.
She sank into the cushion, crossed her legs, displaying her exciting footwear.
She looked like the commonplace rural housewife, just with this girly-attitude, again common for women about her age and origin.
I got distressed a bit, knowing her shoes would irritate me during the whole journey.
I stretched out, laying myself down while alternately spotting down to her soft mary janes and dozing away.
Suddenly she was on her feet, putting her trolley off the luggage rack she had put it up earlier.
She opened the shiny blue casket, uncovering a only one third filled case, holding diverse entangled pieces of clothing.
She carelessly pulled out a bra and accessed a scripture holding notes. She put back the bra and lifted the trolley back on the luggage rack.
That's when i realized i had to ask her if she would like me to lick her feet and to kiss her shoes.
I went out to phone someone, when i realized all the other compartments where totally empty. And she must have come into mine deliberately!
I returned and laid down to rest a bit, not without catching some view of her ballerina mary janes. My! These two elastic straps running around her inset, a fine seam traversing it, dippsy-doodeling along the borders of its bands.
I dozed off while she worked with the script.
I understood she would never allow me licking her feet as I ought to be. But I had to try how far i came!
So i rose up an began talking to her.
She reacted upstaged first, but then grew milder, honestly communicating with me. And I did my best too.
I learned she was a violinist who played in a small opera house. And she was travelling around much. So we talked about music, travelling and foreign countries.
While we talked I eagerly drank from the view of her footwear. Our talk had aroused her feet, awoke them to nervous activity.
She was constantly pushing her toecap against the cushion of the opposite bench, as soon as she expressed her thoughts.
And I was so grateful for her doing.
Finally she put one leg over the other so that her rubber sole pointed directly to me, displaying transparent ochre rubber, chased with floral patterns. She let her foot rotate around her leg, bending the soft leather covering her vigorous skin.
I unvolontarily got a stiff one, listening attentively to her words, following the physic reactions that the passion for her work provoked from her foot. The worn out leather covering her big toe revealed this as her habit.
I was ready to voluntarily go on my knees and lick its sole once she ordered me.
But of course she didn't!
We kept talking for some time. Then she left the compartment to phone. She only came back for her trolley case then finally left under some pretext.
I wondered if she had felt that tension too. That she originally liked flirting with me, but eventually realized I kept staring on her shoes, therefore decided to end interaction. Perhaps she only recoiled from the idea engaging with me, for some unknown reason, perhaps due timidity.

She got out one station before me.
She passed by waving only a brief good bye over to me. I responded adequately.
But then she came back, pulled open the door again and wished my a really cordial Good Bye.


So she did like me!

I wonder if she lies on her bed now, imaging how it could have been to invite me, letting me pleasure her for that one night.
As a fact she didn't

That's why I am declaring hereby I shall humbly receive strangulation by the noose, keeping the afterimage of her imperious footwear on my mind.

She must be disgusted if she read this.

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