Shoe shop delights

Most gals live for shoes, spend an afternoon buried in a store just to walk away with more leather they’ll cram in the closet, and us guys shake our heads. Missy Martinez stepped into that same store today and found a whole extra perk—something alive, warm, and eager under the counter. One flash of thick dark hair and those sharp brown eyes, and the clerk had Missy’s skirt lifted and his mouth buried between her thighs before she even tried on the first pair. She braced on the stool, one heel pressed into his shoulder, the other balancing on its spiked heel while her pussy swallowed his tongue in fast hungry laps. Her hips rocked and his fingers dug into her ass until she gasped, pulled him up, and bent herself across the mirror wall so he could slam into her. Short stroke after hard stroke rattled the price tags. Cum slid down her leg in thin lines just as the door chime rang again. “Help you find something?” she called out to the new customer, totally deadpan except for that unmistakable “just-fucked” glow.