He waited for Hannah to come out of the change room and show him yet another candidate for a dress that she was trying to decide on for one of the Christmas functions they were to attend.
All of them were great, she was great...she had a great figure, they all fitted her great, they all made her look great...and then she'd come out breathlessly again, and Booth would smile and say "Yeah, I like that one, you look great in that one, that's a great dress!" and then she'd go off with another few over her arm to try, and Booth muttered "Pick one for God's sake!"
After Hannah slipped back into the change room, utter boredom settled over Booth. He knew she'd try on all four dresses numerous times before she would even consider showing him, so he was in for another longish wait... While he waited, he tried to ignore either the coy or flirtatious twittering of the other females in the store, or cold stares from a few that wondered why this MALE had invaded one of their sacrosanct areas.
Jeeeez, there was just nothing for him to do while he waited in this upscale clothing boutique. No sports to watch, no tools to ponder over. If he were in a Walmart or some other department store at least he could wander off to the sporting section or maybe to where the tools were on display, even the friggin gardening section would have held his interest by now...
He wandered out front of the store, hands in pockets, softly whistling a tuneless, bored whistle, and gazed through the windows and out into the street beyond.
The seasonal darkness was quickly deepening out there, making the windows morph by slow degrees into mirrors, more and more sharply reflecting the brightly lit interior of the store...
"Great." Booth mused sourly. "Know I can't even watch cars go by..."
But he kept staring out, pretending as he was, that he was doing some form of Vulcan mental self discipline trick, as he tried to ignore the reflected interior of the store that was gradually overtaking the sight of the street beyond. He grinned a little, he was doing pretty good at it...until...
Until he saw those shoes in the reflection...and then the street beyond disappeared,completely forgotten...
They were woman's shoes...not normally something he's pay attention to as they sat on a small shelf in a store...not something he'd pay much heed to even if they were attached to the end of a pair of great legs in a short skirt...in a situation like that his eyes tended to head north from the ankles, and go up, maybe enjoying long well formed thighs, maybe admiring a high hemline, maybe trying to catch a peek of other forms of clothing...rather than downward to examine footwear...
But for some unknown reason these caught his eye.
They were unremarkable in a way...open toed...black...high, needle thin heel...glossy finish...thin strap to hook around the ankle...really, not a usual thing to grab his attention...but these struck Booth in a way he couldn't understand...
He gazed at them in the window/mirror. He could get away with looking at them but not look like he was looking at them...his head tilted a little as he did...he liked them...his head tilted the other way a little...he liked them a lot...and uncharacteristically, he pictured them on her feet...and he liked that picture...damn...he really liked that picture...the vivid image came to his mind , those shoes, on those feet, those beautiful feet...those toes showing though the open front...maybe with fiery red nail polish...damn...yeah...oh yeah...he liked that picture a LOT!
He gazed unseeingly now at the window. He saw neither the street beyond or the reflected shop behind him...now all he saw was those shoes... and his eyes going a little unfocused, he imagined those shoes on those feet...maybe with those fiery red nails...
Normally he'd let his mind take him north, but not this time. This time he just kept imagining those feet, in those shoes.
He imagined the door to his place slowly opening, revealing those shoes, on those feet, standing at the threshold. He imagined her walking into the room. The sharp "clip clip clip" of those needle heels on the floor. He imagine the graceful arch of her feet in them, how they supported her feet yet showed so much of them ...walking toward him slowly, and so sexily. Walking around him, circling him with the sensual, dangerous grace of a leopard rounding its prey...and he waited seated in a chair, wanting to spring out of it and crush her to him, yet loving the delicious frustration of not doing that, but instead having to wait for her to make the moves.
He imagined her circling him, staying frustratingly just out of reach... and losing sight of her as she disappeared behind him...hearing the now soft "clip clip clip" as she slowly and tauntingly rounded the chair he sat in...loving the sound they made as SHE walked in them...relishing the aching impatience to see those wonderfully clad feet again.
Booth imagined her reappearing again...and willing himself not to look at her body...but only looking down at those shoes.
Booth imagined her standing there in front of him now, feet far apart, short skirt pulled taught against her thighs, and he imagined himself wanting SO much to let his eyes travel up those magnificent legs, yet stopping himself because he was so enjoying this new-found titillation from those wonderful shoes.
Then his little revery surprised him, taking an unexpected turn. He was freewheeling this daydream, just letting it happen now. In most cases he'd have her slide into his lap , doing some kind of hot lapdance, but dammit...then he'd lose sight of those shoes...instead, in his mind, she took his hand, pulling him from the chair, and then letting go and saucily sauntering toward the bedroom, leading him on with the pied piper music of those glorious and scandalously high heels tapping on his floor *clip clip clip*
Into the bedroom, where she whirled on him suddenly, wrapping her arms and one leg around him. Damn,he couldn't see the shoes now, but he could feel one of them, as she kissed and sucked on his neck, while she ran that one shoe up and down his calf, digging that needle like heel lightly against his calf...then not so lightly...almost digging it in...
Then he couldn't wait any longer, and they were suddenly both naked, and on the bed, and he was on top of her, and of course there were mirrors, on the walls and ceiling, because he wanted to watch what those shoes did, on those feet, which were attached to those legs, which were tightly wrapped around him, as the moans and gasps and murmurings built to a fever pitch, and those shoes gouged and prodded into him like a couple fucking sexy spurs, driving him to new heights...and deeper depths...
"Sir? May I help you with something?"
Booth found that he was now standing right in front of those shoes, as they sat saucily in that little shelf, and he was staring at them. He turned foggily to the woman that worked in the shop.
"Uh, no.."*gulp* "Uh, yes" ...Dammit..he had almost drooled all over himself just now! How long was he standing there like a slack jawed idiot anyway?
Didn't matter, he had a question.
"Say...do you gals here gift wrap purchases?"
"Why yes, of course we can do that." she smiled, smelling a sale.
"Do you deliver?"
"We're not a pizza joint sir!"
"I mean, do you ship gifts to an address if I give it to you, by lets say, courier?" Booth asked.
"Of course we do,sir, anywhere in the state."
"Good. I have to get these."
"I'm not sure we have them in your size sir." The worker said, her eyebrow arched.
Booth almost stuck his tongue out at her. "No! Not for me!"
The woman looked toward the change rooms. "I'm sure she'll love them sir. Do you know her size?"
"Here, wrote that all down, size, address, make sure they get there asap, I'll pay whatever. I have to see those on her...I have to see those on her... I HAVE to see tho..."
"You said that already sir...anxious much? She's very beautiful, and these will go with whatever she picks out, I'm sure."
"Yeah, right, don't say anything, just get these delivered. OK? Like I said, SOON!"
"Of course sir, I'll see to it right away. here comes your lady friend now...shhhhhhh. Big secret." she whispered conspiratorially.
Hannah came out, in a very pretty dress, and Booth smiled, and said, "That looks great. You look great. Great looking dress...you look great..."
At the Christmas dinner, which was being held in a large sunken dining room, and which called for semi formal wear, Booth sat at his table with Hannah and the rest of the gang. Hannah smiled and looked beautiful in her dress, and Booth smiled and looked handsome in his suit, yet he looked restive and distracted. Then Angela said, "Oh look, here comes Temp! Doesn't she look pretty?"
Booth looked, to see Bones dressed in a simple black form fitting dress. It was very tasteful, yet stunningly sexy on her gorgeous frame.
"Wow, nice shoes , and look at those heels, wow!" Angela blurted.
Booth was looking alright, and yes, Bones was wearing the shoes he had sent her, black and sleek and amazingly sexy...and then she saw them and smiled brilliantly and started making her way toward them.
She had to come down a set of stairs, from his vantage point her feet were in profile as she did. He watched slack jawed and intent as she did. Stepping sexily down from one step to the next.
And then she had to walk across a goodly part of the room toward them,...and by God, Booth would be able to watch her with little obstruction all the way. Booth stared at her feet, transfixed, loving the way her foot arched in them, how they made her walk, how they made her legs look... how even from here he could hear the "clip clip clip" of her approach, how they made him want those legs around him, with those shoes still on her feet, spurring him on...and in...oh God...
And he couldn't tell just yet, but he was thinking to himself, "When she gets here, and if her toenails are painted red, I'm gonna cum right in my pants..."
