The Master Mockers
The Master Mockers (i) I was on my hands and knees, minding my own business, as I dutifully tongue-shined the black leather, pointy-toed, stiletto heeled shoes of my latest female customer at my ‘stand-up’, public shoelick booth in the centre of town. This particular female customer was a very beautiful, petite blonde girl - early to mid twenties - with sheer, flesh-coloured ‘nude’ stockings on her shapely feet and legs inside her plain, black stilettos. Thus it was something of a privilege for a humble public-shoelick such as myself to lick the dirt off the shoes of someone so young and beautiful, as she stood towering above me with her right leg arrogantly outstretched before her, her stiletto-shod foot resting on the well-worn, wooden footblock directly beneath my kneeling face. Fortunately, the young woman was able to keep her balance, and consequently to keep her pretty foot perfectly still on the footblock, whilst I licked the accumulated street dirt and filth off her black shoe