The Leaf Man pt1

Well today’s a new day and It’s the usually early morning large crowd of ten or more women waiting together, on a tree lined street.

Why am I here, I’ve been homeless for the last year and a half. The homeless are nearly invisible in this city, and since I’m feeling lost and almost invisible myself, I thought I could get to use this to get trampled into the ground with. When I was successful in the business world this would be unthinkable. I would not want to ruin by business standings. But now let the public treat me like dirt, they do that anyway.

The bus stop is right by a four foot high brick wall. In the summer time a few women can sit on the wall, but now it’s cold outside, in the late fall, about forty five degrees. I like this area since the street is narrow, so the women have really no place to stand apart from each other, just a narrow strip of concrete next to the curb.

I crawl along the ground to my favorite spot, just in the grass area at the side of the bus waiting line. There’s an old drainage ditch, and it’s been covered over with leaves and debris from years of neglect. The park’s department probably will never come and clean up this mess.

This position is best for me, it’s out of their view, under a deep pile of thick leaves, compost and loose grass. This spot is just perfect, it’s almost like being invisible. The leaf pile covers the ditch which is just two feet from the small concrete walk making the bus stop.

This morning it is about six thirty. The women are just arriving to catch the Central City bound commuter bus, for the start of their normal Wednesday work day.

I wait buried under the deep pile, I got here about five AM, dressed from my shopping kart in my black sweat pants, and black sweat shirt hopeful with anticipation that some woman’s leggy walk will land her attractive spike heeled shoes on me.

This strangers foot would crush down firmly on my body, so I could enjoy her hard, unknowing presence on me.

At last, my prayers are answered, here comes my old girl friend Cortney Armstrong. Little does she know I wait for her here. I have gone out with her about two years ago, for several months, before my business failures.. She’s not really seen the real me. I have always wanted her to step on me with her foxy shoes, especially when she’s very angry at me. But today is a new day.

Cortney might treat me like the dirt I’ve become very friendly with!

Maybe I’ll get lucky and her seductive pointy black high heel boot’s will grind on top of me, since the old Cortney, had so little real use for me anyway!

Let me describe my sweet, robust looking Cortney to you. Cortney is just 5’- 5”, but not too slender. She’s a strong, spunky looking woman. She has brown sharp peering shinny eyes. Her body weight is near 135 pounds. This morning she’s the first to arrive at the bus stop near to where I lay hidden under the compost pile.

Cortney’s a accountant at a bank, so she always must look very fastidious in her clothing. She is so stern in her facial expression as her tight, strong legs make her sharp metal tipped boot heel’s click and clack on the cold sidewalk. The soles of her boots, at the same time, make a soft sounding muffled thud, that hides the hard inner firm thrust of her very muscular legs. (She does step aerobics) I wish her thudding soles were now pouncing forward on my chest. Cortney finally stops walking and comes to a standstill, grating her heels on the hard cement, near the leaf pile which I’m laying deep below.

Cortney then stands in a very business like manner. She’s not swinging her briefcase side to side as the other women often do. I love what she’s wearing her black, shinny slender, up to the calf, high heel boots today. Since Cortney is not so tall, she always wants to wear heels to make her look taller and more commanding. As I look at her boots from just below ground level I notice that Cortney’s boots have dark brown discolored leather soles, which show off her brown leather boot bottoms, as I closely watch her standing, maybe two feet from me. I would love to lick her boot bottom’s clean. I wish only that she would be standing on top of my chest. I want to feel her total weight crushing down on me as she rests her feet on me through her thick thigh muscles of her strong shapely legs.

It would be also so good if Cortney might then rest one foot with her boot’s pointed toes against the side of my face, I would go into euphoria if that ever happened. My sweet Cortney has a habit of standing still with her full weight on just one of her boots high heel’s wobbly thin shafts.

Now I see her not so clearly, I dare only poke one eye thought the tangled mess of the leaf pile.

Cortney has angled one foot up on her pointed heel. If she stood on my body that with her boot’s heel poked on my chest, I would surly die under her hot tempered, heavy stepping, pose. But that’s one of the risks I’m willing to take to get the most suffering I can get from this foxy and strong no-nonsense looking female.

Cortney presently does not seem to notice the mound of leaves that I’m buried under.

I get excited just looking at her blackened and soiled leather boots grinding on the ground so very close, yet so far from me. I know that I’m stealing a look at her. But I’m now thinking that some day she could be grating her scented foot’s seductive heels down on my chest out of hatred of me for when we parted our way’s, it was very messy deal.

Oh how I’m throbbing at the scent of Cortney’s Monday morning shower fresh perfume, as it wafts over the ground towards me. I now see her scrap one of her alluring boot’s metal heel tips through the pile of debris. Her raised pointed toe moves is aimed at my face as she wiggles her foot side to side, tipped up on her right boot’s mean looking, thin high heel’s. Her metal tipped boot heel makes sand marks in the concrete.

Cortney does this to I think, relieve the boredom of standing in one spot for almost 5 minutes with no one to talk to before the bus arrives each day. She effortlessly pivots her full body weight on her one slender shinny heel.

She looks so attractive while poised on the sleek cosmopolitan styled black boots as the wobbly backs of her erotic high heels show off her sexy looking leggy profile.

I hesitantly place my hand through the leaves near to where I think Cortney will angle the sole of her sleek foot down next. The sole of her size seven boot is just the right size to crush me under her rigid strong standing poise.

Just think, if Cortney’s heels were on me now, there would be blood stains up on the backs of her slender black heel shafts, as her forceful legs made her pointy heels grind deep and sink down mighty into me. After a few slow passing minutes, Cortney then shifts her foot and again places most of her weight on one of her strong looking foot’s sole quickly down.

Cortney’s foot lands with a soft thud in the leaf pile, but to have made that much noise her foot and thigh must me very solid. Cortney still has not stepped on my hand. I have judged wrong once more. Cortney places the sole of her foot this time close nearby the pile where my hand is. I watch to see how she angles her foot by pivoting her weight once more on her slender heel.

I crave that she was now standing on me. Cortney’s soft sun-tanned skin gets tense as she stands firmly again on only her one nearby and visible, thin alluring black heel.

I am so close to her legs that now, I can now smell her tempting body’s fruity perfume, mixed in with the strong leather scent of her boots.

I feel the slight warmth radiating from her body heat, under her winter coat, as it streams towards me thorough the crisp morning air. I get excited with anticipation.

I press my rod, which is now a stiff member, solidly against the ground, in order to help me imagine, my dear sweet Cortney is now standing solidly on top of my dick. I still long for that she would sink one of her slender black shinny heels deep into my stomach.

To think that such a luscious woman is so close to me, yet in reality so far. Such a simple thing as her black leather boot can get me so very excited. Cortney’s beautiful body and with her hidden manicured toes inside her strong looking black boots, which she herself, probably does not spend much time thinking of.

Yet to me, if I am lucky enough, she will step on with her foot me for maybe a moment, or perhaps even for a few seconds. What joy it would be if just for a few moments she would place her pointy toe on my hand.

I watch her seductive boots embrace the cold ground and wish that my hand was under her body’s powerful weight focused through her feet. I then move my hand hesitantly forward, once more, though to the soft earth area near to where one of Cortney’s hard boot’s sole’s is anchored. I then slide myself along the ground, pressing my stomach flatter, to be closer to her shinny rock hard sculptured stance

I continue to press myself down forcefully on the earth in anticipation of some sort of action I might get by her or any one of the other wonderful looking women’s feet now standing near me. I’m so excited about all the other women’s legs and shoes that I can see stepping all around now, their gathering on either side of this high leaf pile I’m now below. I hope I might just get Cortney to make a small step of her foot to land on me. If not I’ll be happy just to get someone else’s foot to grind down on me.

I then, dream a dream, If I can’t have her standing on me, I might as well pretend that her rigid legs are grinding her hard sharp thin at the bottom, shinny black stabbing heels deeply into my blooded hand. As I dream, that I’m squirming under her motionless legs, I try to imagine the enjoyment of deep throbbing pain, and foreign feeling of the closeness of her body to me!

I then try to get her to make my dreams come true, as I crawl slowly, closer, quietly slowly ever so slowly forward. I try to be as close as I can to Cortney’s stationary standing, boot’s narrow toes.

Some of the other woman standing next to me will surly plant their dusty shoes on me soon, if not my best friend Cortney! I fight the feeling of shooting off my load in my pants as I press my penis firmly against the cold ground.

Still there are other women nearby, maybe one or two of them will walk forward and stand by chance near me. They are now so ever so close to me, but no one has stepped on me as of yet! Even by accident. I then decide to make another effort and move again still closer to a group of women about five feet from me.

I think that under the cover of this thick and dense refuse pile is my best hope. As I slowly inch along, like some dirty brown underground animal. I spread more the leaves ahead of me carefully, so I have more of the deep cover. I must make it seem as if the wind was blowing the debris here. It’s seems to have worked, Cortney, thinking the wind blew the more leaves near her stylish boots, now walks forward, then steps up and stands on top of a new thick loose leaf pile.

If I was under that pile, she would not have noticed the difference between me and the ground. Her shinny black boots sink down quickly into the dense but soft pile of leaves, grasses and dried twigs.

This is perfect, if she happens to stand on my body, she will think it’s just more soft leaves.

As Cortney stands, I see her stepping down slowly, again and again, on the same soft and matted down spot. She seems to be enjoying crushing the leaves and dried twigs under her spicy sharp looking boot’s hard sole.

Oh!... How I wish she was stepping down on me instead of the unfeeling, rotted leaves!

I continue to creep up slowly, almost too close to her feet. I don’t want to reveal my presence to her, as well as all the other women about me. I continue to I crawl near to where she now stands. She’s still pressing her feet up and down and slowly into the now almost a flat portion of the compacted leaf mound. I then carefully move my fingers forward. I grab a nearby twig and push it’s end so that it just slightly extends out of the pile. The twig is now just touching above the back of her leather covered calf.

It sticks up and rests, as if it was just naturally there, just above her boot leather legging.

I want to get her to move her foot up again off the leaf pile. This time she raises one foot off the surrounding leaves. As she raises her foot high over my view, I am so close I see the bottom of her boot’s sole.

Her leather sole, now covered with sand from the concrete and crushed leaves makes a tempting triangular wear pattern. Cortney now has her foot raised over my head. I would love to lick her dirty gray leather sole clean for her.

Cortney’s also has some small grasses still clinging to her sole’s triangular wear pattern. It’s from being mashed to it’s almost wet grass covered surface. I wish she would rub those same soles across my face. I also now see her up close. I see that Cortney’s sculptured sharpened black heel that is now tantalizingly elevated over my head. Its heel’s metal center point of her shaft is gleaming as the early morning sunlight catches its wet surface from the mashed down grass.

Cortney’s now standing balanced on her other strong attractive muscular leg as it’s supporting heel slightly wobbles for just about a few short seconds.

I watch in anticipation to see as how to place my hand just under the surface of the pile for her strong thick powerful thigh to make her foot step down on me.

I hope I’m luckier now! Cortney then, scratches her raised sun tanned back foot calf with her slender brown and white French polished finger nails.

She then quickly aims her sweet feminine boot, almost straight down. she drops and angles her foot, with her slim, heel outstretched beneath her boot. Her slender boot’s heel goes quickly back into the hole through the flattened leaf area that she’s been working on so diligently.

I quickly judge where her leg might make her boot’s sole follow her heel’s descent.

I move my hand carefully through the pile just underneath her now unstoppable plummeting black streak.

My hand is now hidden by her legs downward stomp to my projected landing zone of her foot.

I then wait the few suspense filled half seconds

Cortney’s strong sun tanned thick thigh then stands powerfully down!!

“A muffed crushing sound of the damp leaves and dry twigs, crackling sound is now heard.”

Wow!!!... Oh!! Boy!!.... I’m successful!!!

She now has caught my hand under her now cold, damp and gritty boot’s sole. The time I’ve been waiting for is here!

My Dear beautiful looking, wonderfully stirring, Cortney’s boot’s sole is partly standing on my pinched hand!

How magnificent, energizing looking!

Cortney then quickly re-steps her foot again. She now stands completely with her whole sole on my hand.

Her right boot’s massively firm and sharp looking, metal tipped pointed toe slightly overhangs across my hand. The pressure from her weight above me is intoxicating and splendid as I smell her French perfume and sharp spicy scent of her well seasoned leather boot.

I go into ecstasy as I fantasize that Cortney really knows that I am under her.

She loathes me so much, that as proof of the many arguments we have had in the past, this time she proves it by making sure to grind my hand just as firmly as she can under her foot. She wants with all her desire to spit in my face, as she stands defiantly on me with her unyielding and well placed polished glistening black boot.

I imagine that Cortney hates me so much that when I beg her to move her foot off of me, Cortney sinks her boot’s heel harder against my hand and twists her foot on my fingers, just like she would do on an old cigarette butt. As she does this, she smiles down at me, just for added spite!

But in reality Cortney’s foot is just resting not hard but firmly on the top fleshy part of my hand while her other, boot, is about nineteen inches away from my face. I hear her foot cracking the little pebbles under her other foot, as it she is still buttressing her full body weight on that leg. Cortney just stands still on me, and does not move any of her well planted feet.

Cortney’s boot is compacting my hand whiter in color as her gold colored metal pointed toe’s front edge is pressing all the blood out. Cortney now stands so still, as it appears that she is just waiting for someone else to walk by for her to talk to. Slowly as if boredom has set in, she rolls on her boots sole, to her outside edge. Cortney then presses her boots quarter inch side edge on my hand. The pain is ferocious, as her now emotionless sideways boot’s hard sharp side edge cuts and pinches unmerciful deeper into my skin just as a torrid but dull knife edge.

Dear Cortney, my dear sweet Cortney, does not move her cute sharp looking sexy boot. But then, as I feel more pain in my hand. I see her boot’s erotic looking black shinny curved sole now gets more contorted down about my hand.

I’m sorry that Ms. Armstrong has walked away so soon. I pull out my watch from my pocket with my painful hand. The time is six-forty! I then decide that precious time is a wasting, so I slip slowly forward through the leaf pile again. I don’t want move too fast and move any of the junk on top of my composite pile to give away my position. I’ll try to get close again to my leggy friend Cortney. I am hoping to get some more of her unwitting foot action.

I know that she was just moments ago standing on my hand I get a nice warm feeling just looking at her now.

I’m slowly crawling forward under my camouflage of leaf compost. I finally reach within a few yards of Cortney. I then prepare to spread the leaves forward easy reach of Cortney’s feet. But this time a tall woman unexpectedly steps from around the side of the pile. She then in two large steps, pins me under one of her western styled shaped boot heel.

She’s wearing a boots with thick 1 ½ inch black mid high heels. She then moves backwards in one step to get a better view of down the block. Pressing her boots heels still firmer down on side of my body. Her thick tapered heels catch the side of my back.

I feel her warm legs pressed hard against the side of my body. Her thick western boot heels have nailed me firmly to the cold hard ground. I’m feeling so hot, I can crawl no further! My back is pinched by her thick heel resting on me and her sole solidly planted to the ground.

Donna Anne, is a healthy sized woman, 145 pounds, dressed with a tweed waist coat. I look up through a few small holes in the pile to see that Donna Anne is smoking a cigarette. Then, suddenly, Donna Anne, drops her soldering cigarette butt on top of one of my left hand, now only hidden by a few leafs.

I try to shake off the cigarette. But the leaves start to rustle. Then women around me, start to look to see what is causing the rustling leaf noise. I then have to quickly stop. I hold in my breath. I still don’t move my hand as the cigarette butt starts to smolder on top of the leaves. Then Donna Anne looks down. She decides to quickly crush out her old smoke, before it starts a fire on leaves.

She’s then steps forward with her left heel, leaving her right boot’s thick heel still pressing solidly against the side of me. She then places her foot, tightly down on the old cigarette but. Donna Anne then leans forward and is now supporting her full body weight through my hand. I dare not move, since to move, will rub against her other fixed foot, and give off my position.

Pressing on my hand with her left foot, with her rugged sole, her left heel is raised slightly off the ground, so that her full leg, and thigh weight is now committed totally on my hand. Donna Anne then leans forward once more, deeply, on her left foot, just leaving her right boot heel lulling just a few inches off my back’s pinched in skin.

Then while Donna Ann is standing on my hand with her full weight, she lights up another smoke. I know that time crawls wonderfully slowly for me, as I watch her boot’s brown thick heel is raised slightly up to aid in her mashing soles effort against my hand.

But it mean’s nothing to Donna Anne, all the while she’s pressing her tough looking, boot is buried down on my compacted hand turning it blue and numb.

Donna Anne then becomes motionless there, I smell her spent brown boots up close, so close in fact that I can count the stitches in her leather uppers leggings seams.

I see her toes outline move under her boots heavy leather covering along side her pointed narrow toe. I then try to move my nose closer to Donna Anne’s foot front, while I press my body flat down. This is so that when Donna Anne moves back from standing on my hand her raised hard rubber tapered heel then press my back with renewed exciting force under her thick heel.

Meanwhile, Cortney a onetime smoker, is bothered by the smoke of Donna Ann’s cigarette, has rotated her bodies attractive frame on her slender black heels. Cortney boots now familiar to me, are pointed, directly at my face.

I now press my pens down hard against the ground in anticipation of smelling her sexy body again I hope I will be by her boots again. My hand at this time is completely numb. I then glance Donna Anne’s firm thick and stationary western boot sole, parked my hand.

I then look back at Cortney’s slightly moving and pointed toes. My dick gets rock hard from the thrill of all this wonderful, close-up boot action I’m due to receive. I peer upward just in time to see that Cortney looks at Donna Anne for a quick moment.

I feel something is now going to change, as I see one of Cortney’s sharp heels scratch backwards against the ground.

Cortney’s shiny left black boot, suddenly lands just in front of my face and the her other boot then immediately rises up, and then goes almost as instantly up, out of my view. Then she lifts her foot up and streaks to a blur up in my view as it disappears abruptly as well.

I then look back at Cortney’s slightly moving and pointed toes. My dick gets rock hard from the thrill of all this wonderful, close-up boot action I’m due to receive. I peer upward just in time to see that Cortney looks at Donna Anne for a quick moment.

I feel something is now going to change, as I see one of Cortney’s sharp heels scratch backwards against the ground.

Cortney’s shiny left black boot, suddenly lands just in front of my face and the her other boot then immediately rises up, and then goes almost as instantly up, out of my view. Then she lifts her foot up and streaks to a blur up in my view as it disappears abruptly as well.

I still have to concentrate on enjoying Donna Anne, even as Donna’s firm sole and tapered heel is still attached to my hand, as if it was making a pancake to the ground. I wonder when she will move, as I can almost not endure the pain of her western style heel squeezing brutality down on my hand.

But then suddenly in a blink of an eye, I very soon feel one sharp point of pain in the small of my back.

It’s Ms. Cortney’s boot heel that is pouncing down on me! I feel her weight of her frame digging into me.

Her total body weight is now only supported by the soles of both of her boots.

I try to breath under the new massive weight of Miss Armstrong.

To my wonderful surprise, and hot wicked feeling I hear Cortney talking above me.

I feel so used as I feel her voice resonate through her feet crushing down on me.

How wondrously this is to me! This is better than I could have hoped for.

Cortney is now standing on me by digging her two thin sharp heels powerfully into my the small of my back. I did not see her come at me. She must have walked around from the rear.

Now that she stands completely on me, I feel Cortney’s five foot five inch frame force her two pointy heels to dig in wonderfully and painfully deep into my back, while between her boot’s soles, the air is quickly being crushed out of my lungs as I lose the fight to support Cortney’s total body weight.

At first I can’t even take a small breath. I try to brace myself against Cortney’s innocently standing on me, her heels probe into me like knives.

Her boots soles aid in the total pain package as her crushing weight squeezes almost the last breath of air from my lungs. I quickly try to pull my hand out from under Donna Anne’s firm boot’s sole. But it’s all in vain as Donna’s has my hand under her vise like grip. Cortney’s’ boots feel like sledge hammers as she moves her feet drilling her heels down on my back.

I grit and bear it, as the woman I know in real life tries to find a comfortable place to stand on. I know she thinks is just a pile of soft leaves. My dick bangs hard on cold hard ground under me. Just in time for me, Donna Anne then peals her brown boot’s heavy standing sole’s off of my hand, and steps forward. I leave my numb hand in place since some of the wet leaves have clung to the bottom Donna Anne’s damp leather sole.

I can now see my exposed muddied hand from my position. I hope no one else can. But then I am saved. Donna Anne then quickly steps around and back on me, to place her familiar big boot’s square shaped box toes kicking it alongside of my stomach. She then makes a backward step and places one of her tapered heels, firmly down on my leaf hidden left arm.

Her boot heel, now perched up on my arm. Her cowgirl boot heel is massaging a throbbing open nerve. The pain is wonderful, as Cortney and Donna Anne continue stand on me, as they now facing each other and begin to talk.

Cortney now starts to tap down with one boot extended so that one of her sharp thin heels just poke into my back, as she if she still thinks they were on the soft pile of leaves. Her black slender boot heels act like daggers every time she kicks down on them at the bottom of her smooth strong shapely legs. I then hear a more angry conversation above me as I struggle to keep a breath in my lungs.

That fucking bastard!, That fucking manipulator! He ruined my Saturday! Then Donna Ann asks; How did he do that? Cortney then talks in a very load tone, almost yelling again. “I had other things to do but I cleared them away so I could spend the whole day with him! Then that sick lying bastard stood me up.” Cortney’s thigh and leg muscles rippled down with the thud of her heel as my body stops her stomp into the small of my back. Cortney’s powerful left side of her body and foot mash down on me. Her tight muscular frame wounds me deeply. I’ll never do that again with that sick, lying, fucking, bastard!!

Cortney then kick’s her leg still harder down with her slim boot heel. He should have called me like he was supposed to. If he was a real man! He’s like the piece of slim my heels are sinking into. Cortney then twists her boots high heel again into my soft back.

Cortney then stomped down again. Oh he made me so mad!

I’m seeing stars, and blinding pain with every stomp of her powerful leg and thigh muscles. The women talk above me more, but I don’t hear them as well.

As the time progresses, I don’t feel much of her heels pain anymore. I try to enjoy warmth of their presence on me to the fullest. Her tight little body, as the dispassionate stance of her feet press her impersonal, cold heels down on me again and again.

Cortney’s heels pound down atop me. If she only knew, I lay underneath her, face down on the cold, damp, ground.

I know soon these ladies will walk away and the feeling of their presence on me will be gone. I try to hold back the time, and enjoy every moment of their biting perfumed presence on me.

Already the scene around me starts to change. I’m still in pure joy as Cortney is just standing firmly, and so still on me. Her heels don’t seem to hurt as much as before. I try to make my back more rigid to get even more of a shooting pain from Cortney’s smaller sized, but angry stepping feet.

Donna Anne’s stance on my arm and hand have made it numb, as I still watch her firmly loaded foot’s boot mash my arm as I try again to smell her thick looking suede boot up so close on me. I now see some other women that for weeks, I longed to get under their feet, but not have been able to get close to.