With the honey oozing like never before, I still keep my knees six inches apart even as I walk. I get a towel and a few tools out of the trunk. I put the towel on the seat. I dare not wipe myself in fear of an instant replay of what had just occurred. Thinking about what I had just experienced, my heart races in rhythm with the throbbing. With the pliers I break the mirror over a bag and glue two small pieces of mirror to the inside of my sunglasses beside the temples. They work perfectly with the short wig. I can see everything behind me.
I decide to check my date book to see if there is anything I have to do today. Just my luck I have an 11:00 appointment at the podiatrist. It's 10:30 now and no time to go home and change. I decide to make the most of it and speed of in the direction of my appointment getting there just in time. Getting out of my car on this busy sidewalk on a one-way street I see many people are walking by. I again open the door and exit slowly one leg at a time and hesitate in that position while I gather my pocketbook and the put on my shoes. Many people look up my skirt as they pass by. I wonder if I can maintain the 6-inch space between my knees throughout the appointment.
Announcing to the receptionist my presence, I am informed my regular doctor is on vacation and that Dr. Somebody will be examining me. This may be fun after all. I am led to an examining room unlike any I’ve ever seen before. There is a chair not unlike a dentist chair and what appeared to be a long clear glass table about 3 feet off the floor with a ramp leading up to it and some sort of trolley under the table. I ask what are these? New things?
She explains that they’ve just had the state of the art equipment installed to make examinations more efficient. She asks me to sit in the chair while I wait for the doctor. I sit down keeping my knees 6 inches apart. She presses a button and the chair lifts me up 4 feet into the air. She goes and sits at a small table to my right just as the doctor walks in. He is younger than most doctors and must have just gotten out of school. We make introductions. He sits in front of me on a stool. His eyes are at the height of my knees. The honey begins oozing profusely. He only has to look straight ahead to see my wetness. Instead, he takes off my shoes and socks and asks what problems I’m having. I tell him my insteps hurt a lot no matter what type of shoes I wear and my feet itch a lot. I notice that each time he looks from my feet to my face his eyes hesitate at my honey hole making me want to go for 7 or 8 inches instead of the 6 inches between my knees. I bounce them apart slightly as I sit. He pushes his stool back some and lifts my left foot into the air so that my leg is straight and my foot inches away from his face as if to look at my sole. I can tell he is actually looking past my foot at the wetness between my legs. My heart begins to pound as he stares while twisting, contorting, and prodding my foot. I am about to explode as he watches. The opening to my orifice begins to pulse open and shut as he watches. I spread my knees apart just a little more as he puts my left foot down and begins on my right foot. The honey is poring out of me like never before; he must see it streaming out of me as he watches. He then asks me to walk up the ramp and walk back and forth on the glass table. My points are hard as they could possibly be. He is going to test for pressure points as I walk on the table. He lay on the trolley and like a mechanic going under a car in need of repair there he is under me as I walk back and forth. He can see everything not only up my skirt but up my top as well. I am about to leave a honey trail as I walk as it is running down my leg and reaching my heel. From my viewpoint I can see I’m not the only one in the room that is wet. He slides out and stands up with his clipboard in front of him. He tells me I have unusually high arches and that my heels cords are not tight enough and that the dyes in my socks and shoes are causing my feet to itch. He says if I follow his directions and the prescription there would be no reason he can't fix all the problems.
He says first of all, all of my socks and shoes will have to be free of dyes of any kind and a prescription for steroids should fix the itching problem. Also he will give me a note to show anyone who objects that would allow me to go barefoot until I have the proper shoes. I need to have innersoles custom made, and I need to walk on my toes as much as possible to tighten my heel cords or wear high heel with at least 5 to 6 inch heels. I thank him and head out the door with my socks and shoes in hand. I tell the receptionist to bill me as I pass the front desk.
It's 11:30 the next stop is the drug store then for a bite to eat. There is a drugstore a few doors down. I put my socks and shoes in the car and put on my new sunglasses; this may be a good time to try them out. I rub my points with my pocketbook as I walk, but the ice has thawed now and has little effect so I reach under my top and pinch the points as hard as I can stand it until they hurt just a little. They become erect and throb from the experience and thinking about how nice some ice would be.
As I walk inside the drugstore I spot the ice box and grab a 5 lb bag of ice and cradle it to my breasts as I walk toward the prescription counter. I notice three men sitting in chairs: one directly across, one to the right, and one to the left of the counter. I can feel all four pairs of eyes on me including the druggist who asks if he can help me.
you can,” I said as I finish watching the man behind me put a magazine in his
lap. “I have a prescription to be filled.” Watching the man behind me in my
rear view mirrors I bend over and set the ice on the floor keeping my knees
straight. I arch my back and hold my head up as the druggist looks down my top
at my cold hard points. Meanwhile the man behind me holds his mouth open as his
magazine moves all by itself. I know the man behind me can see the honey
ooze out. With my lips spread far
apart I know he can see deep into my tunnel of love just as I’d seen it in the mirror at home. I rise up, get the prescription from my purse and hand it to the druggist.
He says, “This is a note from your doctor explaining why you have to go barefooted.” That reminded me to stand on my tiptoes. Then I hand him the proper piece of paper. I ask him how long it will be he says about five minutes. I tell him that is good because my ice is melting. The two men on either side of me are watching but haven't gotten the full treatment yet. So I grab a string of beads and break them all over the floor. They go in all directions.
All three men react at the same time, getting on their hands and knees to gather my beads. I decide to join them. First squatting like a baseball pitcher with my left foot on the floor and my right knee on the floor. I turn to face each man as they hand me my beads with my honey hole in full view of each one as I turn. Then getting on my hands and knees I swing my body around so my behind is within inches of one man’s face arching my back and raising my head into the air. I can to watch him in my rear view mirrors while opening my tunnel for a view deep inside. He stares as if a cat were watching a bird. So I squeeze out a little juice. His lip quivers like he’s going to faint as his eyes roll back into his head. So I squeeze and relax my tunnel as if there was something to grab hold of and then push out of me. My little man begins to throb as I squeeze and relax over and over again. I am about to explode. I swing around and mount the bag of ice as a rider would his horse putting all my weight on the ice lifting my knees slightly in the air. I am exploding like never before wave after wave of chills race through my body starting where the ice is touching, rushing to my scalp then down to my toes.