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Cinderella

Date: 10/11/2014, Categories: Fetish, Author: FeliciaGreene, Rating: 4, Source: LushStories

shake as he came. Then quiet, soft sighs of appreciation as he licked her quivering pussy clean. “Wow,” said Emma as Alex leaned his head against her thigh. “Just… wow.” “Yeah.” “That’s the first time anyone’s ever… ever done that, with my feet.” She felt him laugh silently. “Oh, come on. Drop the act. You know it isn't .” Emma laughed, but felt the anxiety building. “Act? What are you talking about?” Alex raised his head, looking at her. There was a slight, disbelieving smile on his face. “Well, come on. I mean, you’re very good, but we don’t have to pretend any more. I’m assuming one of the guys hired you? I’m assuming they paid you too, but it’s ok, if they haven’t I can -” “You what? ” “I’m just saying it’s ok. I have cash on me. I mean, I’m not sure how much you charge, but - hey!” Emma’s foot had caught him square in the chest. “You think I’m a prostitute? ” Now there was a hint of doubt in Alex’s smile. “Well, come on… I mean, what am I meant to - you mean, you’re - oh, fuck.” His face fell. “Jesus, I -” “No, you know what? Fine.” Emma stood rapidly, arranging her skirts. “You’re right. What were you meant to think? You met a girl, she’s up for some no-strings-attached fun, well, she must be a whore. She must be doing it for the money.” She adjusted her mask, discreetly wiping a tear away as she did so. “I should have done it for the money. God knows I need it.” “Emma, I-” “Don’t say my name. Don’t you dare.” She stood at the stairwell entrance, patting her hair back ... into place. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t - oh, damn. Barefoot. Grabbing the shoes, spikes flashing in the starlight, she looked at them for a long moment before throwing them at Alex’s feet. “You know what, have them. Put them on the next girl.” “Please don’t -” “Don’t follow me.” Flinging the chair away from the door handles, Emma ran down the steps. Dodging her way through the throng of curious party-goers, she could hear Alex shouting after her. She ran faster. As her bare feet hit the freezing road, she stopped. Shrugging away the doorman’s hand on her shoulder, she took off her mask to wipe away her tears. “Emma?” Oh, for fuck’s sake. Brianna was staring at her from across the road, shock gradually becoming a nasty, petty triumph. A cab pulled up, yellow light shining out of the gloom, and Emma threw herself inside before Brianna could say another word. Thank God . She lay against the leather seat, hearing Brianna shout something as the cab pulled away from the kerb. You know what , she thought, sore, weary and sad, I am not going to think about this - about any of this - until morning. There were three voice-mail messages. Emma drank her coffee, wincing as she opened the blinds, and tried to fight the nauseous rise of fear as she pressed the button. The first, Brianna. “Don’t even bother coming into work today.” Short and sweet , Emma thought, feeling relieved. Maybe I can work with nicer people at my next job. Nazis, perhaps. The second, Oliver from seven that morning. ...