The Sandwich – Chapter 2
Ok, back to the fateful events of that morning. So, as I was saying: GO EAT YOUR BREAKFAST! Geez, will that kid ever listen to me? His mom spoils the shit out of him and he never wastes a chance to let me know it. Whatever, it is what it is, back to the stupid sandwich for little Prince Adam.
If you remember, I said I was late for work and this was a big day for me, really big! I had to present my proposal to the entire management staff and if I worked my usual magic it will mean a big raise and perhaps even a promotion! I had put on my best Armani suit, $2000.00 dollars of pure black, custom tailored, Italian silk awesomeness. I had never lost a deal while wearing this suit and today was going to be a final conquest of sorts, Managing Director! I could see it now, a corner office, private secretary, my own stall in the underground parking garage, the full fucking Monty! Wait, SHIT! Did I just dribble mustard on my suit? God Damn it! SUZANNE! For God’s sake, I just got mustard on my suit! I can’t deal with this shit today! You know what’s at stake so you make his stupid sandwich, I gotta clean this crap off my suit RIGHT NOW!
As I turn from the sink there he is again, Prince Adam, destroyer of worlds. Alright, enough kid! Get out of my way, I need to get this shit off my… Caught in mid-sentence I see the little turd point one of his stupid toy guns at my face and… What the hell? What the hell did you just squirt on me you little bastard? I couldn’t place the smell but it was foul, I mean fricken bug spray foul, like the crap you spray on hornet’s nests! Oh my God, I’m going to KILL him!
Suddenly the room flipped upside down, then back to normal, then upside down again. It was like I was in a barrel rolling down a hill, them BAM, it stopped! I was trying to get my senses back, Adam was going in and out of focus like a reflection in a fun house mirror. Through my chemical addled mind, I heard him say in his whiney little voice; “I don’t like you anymore”! Trying to keep him in focus I said; I’m sorry kid, it’s just today is not a good day to…THWACK! I crumbled to my knees and face planted into the cabinet door. From where my face hit the floor I could see Adam staring down at me with the most malevolent grin I had ever see on a kid, after that, I knew no more.
Completely oblivious to all the commotion in the kitchen, Suzanne was putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She always takes at least an hour or two, and I never understood why the hell it takes so long. I mean, to me she looks foxy as hell when she first wakes up, no makeup, messed up hair, the musky smell of her skin. Ask her the reasoning for the primp fest? “It’s for me, not for you”. I guess I’ll never understand women. So; on most days I take full advantage of “the morning look” and give her a good and proper servicing before I shit, shower, and shave.
This morning was no exception, and it was pure bliss! I mean this woman knows me like the back of her hand. Feeding my foot fetish and lust for her extensive collection of shoes, she always makes me get out of our perfectly warm bed and pick a pair of shoes for the morning’s adventures. (Hot damn, what man wants for heaven when he has a sex starved nymph in his bed that practically begs to be fucked every morning). But oh yeah, back to the shoes du jour!
So, this morning I choose a pair that happen to be her favorites. The black, 4 inch high sandals with one narrow strap that goes over her toes, and a kind of collar strap that wraps around her perfectly shaped ankle. You can’t tell the brand any more as the logo has long since been ground off the ¼ inch leather sole. You can, however, still see the size which is stamped right below the heel on the bottom of the arch (yeah, you guessed it, Size 7).
God, I love these shoes! The best part is that they are the kind that are narrow from the heel until the ball of the foot pad so they don’t cover her entire foot. So imagine this; when you go down on her and her feet are straight up in the air, you get the most perfect view of the bottom of her heavenly arches on each side of the shoe. Simple, elegant, dainty. It’s almost like she isn’t wearing shoes at all; no distractions, just a perfect female foot strapped onto a heel and a tiny piece of leather.
Finished with her makeup, she pads over to her closet and selects a skimpy black Dolce & Gabbana mini dress that rides about 5 inches down from her butt cheek. You know the type; standard issue modern goddess-ware that never fails to turn the heads of even the most pious of the male species.
With the dress selection out of the way she moves to the lingerie chest to pick a maroon thong from Victoria’s Secret that provides just the right lift to accentuate her perfectly sculpted derrière. Sliding them on, she languidly strokes her pussy remembering the morning’s adventures and hot sticky rush that never fails to please her man. Now, a little spritz of Temptation fragrance mist and she’s ready for the final, and most important choice; her shoes. Euphoric recall brings her directly to her favorite pair, the little black strapped sandals that commanded her man to push himself in utmost love and devotion of pleasing his goddess.
Finished with her morning ritual, Suzanne strides out of the bedroom, her dainty heels clicking on the hardwood floor.