Michelle stuck her head out from the walk-in closet and complained, “Oh my God, there is so much! Why do you let me buy all this stuff?”

I sputtered, “Let? Let! I don’t let you do anything, babe. You do what you want. And you want to buy clothes — and shoes. Lots of shoes.”

After sauntering out of the closet, she stood before me in nothing but her bra, panties and two mismatched shoes.

“Only one can stay,” she declared.

“Is this like the gladiators? A fight to the death?”

“I’m serious. I’m reducing my shoes and clothes by 50 percent. So I can find things. So I won’t be so overwhelmed.”

I nodded, studying her long, lean legs. The left ended in a red wedge pump. The right ended in a bright yellow, four-inch heel.

“They’re both highly impractical,” I said.

She harrumphed but then laughed and added, “OK, I can see that.”

My eyes roved over her near nudity before focusing on her feet. Her beautiful feet.

“I guess the red stays. The wedge is kinder to your feet, and the red goes with more of your stuff.”

“Good boy,” she replied, tossing the red wedge to the left — the keep section. The yellow went right — in what I guessed was the cast-off pile.

“Next!” she declared, disappearing back into the closet.

“Michelle,” I groaned. “Can I just go?”

“No!” she yelled from the interior of her closet. “I need your help. You are impartial. I am not.”

I flopped back onto the bed and waited.

She appeared again. This time, her left foot was shod in a black leather flat. The right in a tweed one.

I studied her. I’d never seen the black shoe before. That’s how many she had. But they weren’t new — just different. And hot. They were so thin, they made her slender feet look even more narrow. They also exposed the base of her toes — revealing her toe cleavage, as she always called it. The combination was somehow smoking hot and totally innocent all at once, and my dick got ramrod hard.

I uttered a helpless sound. My bossy wife put her hands on her hips and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. But come closer.” She did, and then she realized my state.

“Your cock is hard,” she commented, as if I didn’t know.

“Is it because of my shoes?” She studied me, placing her foot on the edge of the mattress, and cooed, “Is it because of my cute black flats?”

Leaning over, I inhaled the scent of leather mixed with her body lotion. It was the smell of my wife made more intense by the shoes. It was even more intense than the potent fragrance of her that I found near her armpits or the crux of her thighs.

I squeezed her foot and said, “Keep these.”

“Duh.”

She pulled back, and I groaned. She dipped back into her closet and then emerged totally naked — except for the black leather flats.

“So, you’re telling me these should go into the keep pile.”

She sauntered toward the bed, and I watched her perfect breasts bounce with each step. Her nipples were tight knots of pale pink flesh. Her mound was covered with a neatly trimmed patch of hair. Her hips flared out like the curves of a glorious vase, and the vision of her was only accented by her simple but sexy shoes.

Michelle rested the toe of one on the bed. Her calf muscle was flexed, her knee at a right angle, and her thigh was on display.

“You’re a filthy pervert, baby. I love it. Now love on me,” she said.

So I did. I licked the delicate lines between her toes that peeked out from the supple shoes. I let my fingers caress the soft leather as my other hand ran up and down my denim-clad dick.

She made a happy noise, and I pushed my fingers into the top of her shoe, breaching that space the way I’d penetrate her pussy with my cock. For all her jokes and teasing, she was turned on. I could tell by her blushing cheeks.

When she couldn’t take anymore, she pulled her foot from me, pushed me back and got my cock out of my pants.

“Leave the shoes on,” I growled.

My petite beauty nodded and straddled my crotch. She sank down onto my erection as she rested her hands on my chest. I sat up and reached forward. I felt her ankles, the tops of her feet and the soft leather of her shoes as she rode my rod.

She fucked me as I fingered her footwear and toes. Occasionally, I devoted attention to her tits and nipples. Through it all, she sighed and rocked her hips.

“You like that?” she asked. “My pretty feet in my pretty shoes? While I fuck you like the filthy boy you are?”

I nodded like a mute maniac. I was unable to think of anything but her hot, wet cunt wrapped around my dick and her dainty feet in her good girl shoes.

I thrust up from under her and pinched one of her nipples.

She let her head fall back, and her long hair hung down her back.

“You wanna fuck my toes? My shoes? When did you become such a dirty boy?” Her words were delivered in hushed tones amid eager breaths.

I thought I’d explode right there. I thought I’d lose my shit.

Instead, she came, her constricting cunt feeling like a wet, snug fist around me. I gritted my teeth as she pulled off me. She turned her slim body around and plunged her mouth down onto my shaft. I grabbed ahold of her feet as she hungrily sucked me off, fingering her smooth soles.

Next, she tongued my balls as she jerked my rod. As soon as she took me between her lips again, I exploded, filling her mouth with my load.

When she spun around and crawled up to kiss me, her lips were sticky with my cream. Then she whispered in my ear, “Tomorrow we’re going to do this again.”

It was all I could think about all night.

The next day was Monday, and Michelle wore those magical flats to her office with a short pink dress and her hair twisted up. She looked the picture of sexy innocence.

At lunch, I got a text. It was an image: her two shod feet posed beneath her desk. The lines of her toe cleavage beckoned me, making my cock rock-hard.

About two hours before she was due to head home, she sent a video. The clip showed her fingertips trailing seductively over the tops of her toes and briefly dipping beneath the black leather. Sitting in my home office, I sighed and ran my hand along my aching cock, which was practically throbbing in my pants.

I realized she’d be leaving work soon. My phone jangled, and another video came through. It showed her sliding her delicate foot in and out of her flat, like her foot was fucking her shoe.

Unbuttoning my pants, I pulled my cock free and gave it a few strokes. Just enough to drive myself absolutely insane as I waited for her. I was a disheveled horny mess with a raging hard-on and an aching need to come in my wife’s shoe. I tucked my dick back in my pants and stared at the clock.

As soon as she’d crossed the threshold, she flung herself at me in the living room. The door slammed behind her. I caught her in midair and carried her to the sofa. Her dress was hiked up, and her lips were pressed to mine.

“Eat my pussy,” she pleaded.

I got down on my knees between her spread legs and let my fingers trail across the tops of her flats. I traced the seams where the leather met her sensitive flesh and dipped my fingers under the shoes’ edges. I bent and kissed the top of each foot and then dragged my tongue along the edge of each shoe. She wiggled her toes inside the flats, and I could see their motion beneath the tender leather.

She grabbed my hair and pulled me up. I put my face against her white panties, breathing in the scent of her as I fingered the edge of one of her shoes. I yanked her panties to the side and nudged her clit with my tongue.

“I’d been thinking about this all the way home, dirty boy.”

I groaned against her sex, and that set her off more. She lifted her rear off the cushion and told me to take off her panties.

Using one hand, I dragged her damp undies down. The fingers of my other hand were dipping inside one shoe, rubbing her slightly moist foot. My cock felt hard enough to break stone.

I lapped at her slit eagerly, smelling the fragrant musk of her aroused pussy and tasting her sweet nectar on my tongue. She writhed against me with one hand firmly planted on the back of my head. She moved her foot against my hand as I touched it.

I shoved my fingers in her pussy and fucked her that way as I sucked her clit and tickled her folds.

She pushed up against me, moving to meet my flicking tongue. I pushed a third finger inside her, and she moaned helplessly. The sound made the hair on the back of my neck stand up as I continued to work her pussy.

“Like that, like that, like that,” she kept chanting.

When she climaxed, a rush of sweet fluid escaped her and her whole body went stiff. Then she sighed loudly and slumped in her seat. Soon, however, she pushed me onto my back and told me to open my pants.

I obeyed, hauling out my cock, which stood at attention.

She brushed the toe of her shoe down the length of my erection. I groaned, taking my dick in hand. I rubbed the tip on the soft leather and the top of her foot.

“You want to mess up my shoes, don’t you. You filthy, filthy boy. You want to mess up my pretty shoes and my pretty feet.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I told her.

She put her foot in my hand and wiggled her shoe.

I popped her foot out of the flat and dragged my dick over the tops of her toes. I smelled her shoe, the scent of her lotion and the fragrance of worn leather.

She planted her foot on my hip. The other one, still clad in its shoe braced the opposite side.

“Do it,” she demanded. “Mess up my pretty shoe.”

I bowed my head and jerked my cock fast and furious as I held her empty shoe before me. When I shot my cream into her footwear, the moment was magic.

And her lilting laugh told me she was delighted by our newfound thrill.