The First Pink Incident

Mrs Edward’s friend… was slipping her foot out of her heels as the bead made it’s way down towards her. The first one landed inside the shoe as an aroma struck Andrew and lulled him into a stupor unlike anything he had ever experienced. The second drop grazed her big toe as it changed trajectory and got lost inside the shoe out of sight behind her sole.

That aroma though, transfixed Andrew. The combination of rose toned perfume with leather and nylon transfixed his mind as if the second coming was upon him.

But, there was the thing of the beads of sweat. That lady was going to put her heel back on. She was going to notice the sweat.

His life was over. She would tell his mom that Andrew had spat into her shoe. Given his position, what other conclusion was there to make.

Andrew had to think fast.

The sound of kids playing was starting to return. The energy of his mom shifting her focus was raising his temperature all the more. He had to move quickly and fast.

Without further thought, Andrew shifted his weight to his already bend and weakening right arm so he could hide his efforts to remove the sweat from his mom’s view using his left hand.

As Andrew shifted, the lady removed her other shoe and pulled her legs back. The calves rubbed against his arm. Andrew felt his soul getting undone. His heart stopped. His hair stood extremely erect all down his back. His breath exhaled and stayed out.

Did she notice?

She must have…

Total complete silence. Just the odd slow heart thud in his throat.

His hand was in her shoe and had found one of the beads. But the other was nowhere in sight. Andrew leaned in to see better.

Nothing.

Where?

He had to get that bead.

Her other leg moved.

He felt the brush of her nylon against his arm and the rub of her toes on his chest. There was urgency in the connection.

This was a warning connection. More like an urgent nudge.

The woman was trying to wake his brain up and get him out of harms way. But his arms failed and his face landed on her shoe… more like in her shoe.

The sharp blinding pain that rippled through his abdomen and exploded out the top of his head was so intense that the modern day Andrew jumped so high his head slammed the top of the cove and nearly knocked him out.

As the stars slowly cleared, Andrew could see the demon dangling a pink heel in one hand and the tape of his memories in the other while sternly looking at him to get back up.

Struggling to right himself, Andrew sat on the floor and closed his eyes. He was more emotionally spent than he had ever been during these struggles.

He had busted a hole behind him with his head and now his hands had punched holes out the sides of the cove. Blood was dropping from his arms and most likely down his back as well.

He had learned something new in this recollection. The woman friend had known all along what was going. She had tried to save him. She was not mocking him. She was not trying to hurt him. Before this vivid recollection, Andrew had thought she had been angry with him and had knocked out his arm from under him.

His guilt welled to new crescendoed highs. He had held a grudge against the very woman who had tried to save his life.

His weakness was why his arms had given up. His lack of discipline is why he had failed to save himself. Had he accepted the small price of her discovering two drops of sweat, Andrew would have heeded her warning and saved himself.

He could have lived down the spanking.

The Breakdown

As Andrew returned back to the scene, he rewound the tape. He always knew that he had experienced a very sharp mind numbing pain as his face planted into this woman’s heel. But why?

Andrew moved the images about and rotated the perspective. Using the director’s cut of his memory, Andrew saw things he had never considered before and had missed. It finally dawned on him what had happened.

His mother, in her righteous indignation, had kicked him very hard. Must have been a reflex or something. That sharp blow had connected with his fully aroused member and had crippled him instantly.

That was why his face had planted into the shoe. Mother had knocked the living daylights out of him.

As Andrew played with the scenery over and over again, other perspectives and facts came into focus. The gossip of the church was in the back seat and was gossiping with his mom and her friend.

As Andrew found the switch to the audio, he pulled the view over the shoulder of the woman doing the gossiping.

Intense waves of flight-or-flight level anger washed over him. The gossip was telling his mother that she thought her son had a fetish for women’s feet and would burn in hell for removing the shoes of a woman and doing the unthinkable to it.

unthinkable things… what unthinkable things?… what… possible… unthinkable things?!?

The anger in mother’s face was unlike anything he had ever seen. The rage in her voice as she hissed “for the love of God… get! Up!” was worse then venom. He had heard that once before. When another lady of the church was explaining how she caught her husband cheating. That degree of hate, venom, animosity was present in his mother’s voice.

What Andrew had never seen in meditation or recalled before was what happened next.