Date: Thu, 19 Jun 2014 06:37:07 -0700
From: John Brant <bigengineers@yahoo.com>
Subject: Boots in the Bar  (Gay Authoritarian, Military)

This story is fictional and written for men into leather, uniforms and
boots.  If you like the story, please consider making a contribution to
Nifty, so that it can continue to publish fiction by gay writers.


			     Boots in the Bar

Phil sat on his bar stool clutching his beer. He blended in quite well with
the leather crowd with his biker jacket, Levis and spit shined combat
boots. The crowd, if you could call it that, was disappointing; maybe
twenty at the most and only half were wearing boots. Phil had not cruised
this bar before, in fact he had to drive two hours to get to it. As his
eyes drifted over the boots on the ground, they came to rest on a pair of
high shine Chippewa engineers worn by a guy in leather at the end of the
bar. After a half minute of admiring those boots he raised his eyes to the
man who was wearing them and was surprised to see that he was staring at
him. Phil was about to avert his gaze when he saw the man give a slight nod
and with his left hand point at his boots.  Phil's cock throbbed after the
gesture. Phil slowly got up, leaving his beer behind him and walked over to
the man at the end of the bar.

When Phil got there he said: "Hello, sir! Your boots look a little
dusty. I'd like to offer my services as a humble boot licker to go down on
your boots and lick them to a brighter shine than they are now."

"Go to it, boot slut. But don't mess up my shine. I want my boots looking
better than they do now. Quit wasting time, get down on the floor where you
belong and start servicing my boots."

Phil didn't have to be ordered twice. He dove to the floor and began to
lick the right boot. His cock got harder and harder as his tongue slid up
and down the smooth leather.  He licked the boot as hard as he could,
pressing his tongue against the warm black leather.

He must have been licking for about five minutes when another leather man
approached. "Hey Kurt, I haven't seen you for a couple of weeks."

"I was doing my two week army reserve summer camp, but I'm back now. You
had any good fucks while I've been gone?" asked Kurt.

"Yeah, there was a fuckin faggot who came here last Saturday.  He told Joe
he was looking for a dick up his ass. So about four of us showed him into
the back room where we roughed him up a bit before taking turns fucking the
shit out of him.  Say what's that piece of shit doing down on your boots?"
asked Hans.

"I don't know. Some boot slut couldn't keep his eyes off my boots so I
signaled him to come over and service my boots. He doesn't seem to be doing
a very good job. Maybe you should kick his ass a few times to help him pick
up the pace." Said Kurt.

"Fuck, yes! I'll give that little boot bitch a taste of my 30 hole
Underground Rangers."  With that Hans took a step away from the bar .  He
drew back his size 12 black Ranger boot and kicked Phil's left ass
cheek. Poor Phil went sprawling from his position on his hands and knees to
being flat on the floor. He didn't have a chance to stay there long before
Hans landed another powerful boot on his ass.

"You're done with this piece of shit, aren't you, Kurt?"  to which Kurt
nodded as he took another sip of beer. Hans turned his head toward the
floor where Phil was trying to get up and said: "OK you little boot
faggot. You've had your chance to service his boots and you've done a
terrible job. Now get the hell out of here. If you're not gone from the
premises by the time I finish counting to ten, I'll kick your balls so hard
you'll never fuck again."

With that Phil scrambled to his feet and headed for the door. As he was
about to exit he took one last look at those powerful engineer boots and
only wished he could have licked them for another hour.