He squats low, his boots right in your face. “Look at you drooling over my shiny boots,” he says. “Filthy boy. Start licking them. Clean them with your tongue, lick every inch, suck the leather, and moan like my dirty little boot boy. Tell me how much you love being my boot boy.”
Hey, you filthy little roof rat! Get your ass down here right now. These tall glossy black leather boots are waiting. Choice one: crawl over and worship them with your hungry tongue, licking every shiny inch. Choice two: I drag you to jail instead. Ten seconds… pick wisely.
After his shift, the cop parked by a quiet riverside lot. He stripped off his shirt, kept his helmet, uniform pants, and tall black boots, then lay back on his bike. The setting sun glowed across his bare sweaty chest, casting shadows over his muscles as he relaxed.
The cowboy flipped the bucket, planted his filthy cowboy boot on top, and slowly poured cold beer over the dusty leather. As it streamed down he smirked, “Lick every inch of my boot clean, boy.” The shoeshiner knelt and dragged his tongue across the wet sole and heel.
This police officer is taking a break. He needs to sit down, relax, and take a deep breath. As he does so, he imagines other men in tall police boots while he rubs his genitals.
Why does this person sleep on a half-soft table or couch and place their boots on the chair? If the chair is occupied, he expects you to sit on his boot.
Two leather masters and one slave. They bound him up, except for his dick. The master forbade him from touching his leather, but allowed him to have his dick touched against his tall leather boot.