Shoelace Bikini
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No Shoelaces Today free porn video
No Shoelaces Today!
By Jordan Holder
All I really wanted was a pair of shoelaces, but I couldn't seem to find
the dusty old shoe shop--you know, the one that every mall has near an
undesirable entrance, where the rent is lower. One of mine was frayed
and about to break, and I didn't want to have to try to tie the ends
together. Better just to replace it before that happened.
I couldn't believe this mall didn't have a shoe repair shop. I tried one
side corridor after another and found a pet shop, a cookie store,
foundation garments for overweight ladies, and everything but what I was
looking for.
Finally, behind an escalator, was the last, rather dimly lit, part of
the mall that I hadn't yet gotten to. And there it was, near the blind
end--Shoes R Us.
No, that wasn't it. My eyes, or more likely my brain, was playing tricks
on me. It actually said _Spells_ R Us. I had my hand on the door handle
before I realized that I'd been the victim of an optical illusion. I was
ready to turn and go but then decided maybe the proprietor might know if
there _was_ a shoe repair shop in the mall. So I went in.
The place was about as dusty as the kind of shop I was seeking, but had
all sorts of odd items and curios lying around. In a way like a shoe
shop, which had jars and bottles of polish and waterproofing and dye,
and shoe horns and stretchers and such in cases, but in this store, the
variety was incredible. Old clocks. Carved dolls. Tons of jars with
labels I couldn't quite read, but probably were not neat's-foot oil. And
on and on. I was alone in the place and was just about to ring the bell
I finally located on the counter, when a voice from the back shouted,
"No need to ring the bell, I'm coming. Be there in a moment." I moved my
hand away from the bell and backed away from the counter in surprise at
having been anticipated like that.
A gray-bearded figure appeared through a draped doorway that led to the
back of the shop. For a moment I thought he was actually wearing a
cobbler's apron, but then it looked more like a bathrobe. That didn't
seem appropriate, either.
"Sorry, Greg. No shoelaces here today. And the shop in the mall closed
up last May." My mouth fell open. I hadn't said a word to him. And now I
had no idea of what to say.
"Come now, Greg, you saw the sign. At least the second time you saw it.
Who would be running a shop of spells but a wizard?"
"I...I mean...a wizard? Like for real?"
"Of course. We generally cover our tracks pretty well so it doesn't get
into the newspaper, but there are a few of us around."
"Uh huh." I gulped. "Well, maybe you can magic up a pair of shoelaces
for me, then. That's what I want."
"'Fraid not. Like I said, no shoelaces here today. And that's not what
you _really_ want, anyway. You want something else, or you wouldn't have
been able to find this place."
He was leaving me behind. "Honestly, I just need a pair of black, 27-
inch shoelaces. Wax dress kind."
"Oh, now we're talking about what you _need_, not what you want. There's
a shoe repair shop in the strip shopping center about two miles east on
Samper Road, OK? But are you _sure_ you aren't interested in doing
something about what you _want_ while you're here?"
"Frankly, I don't know what you're talking about," I said.
"Everybody wants something. Money, power, and sex cover almost
everything. And most people have some hope of getting what they want by
ordinary means. When what they want is out of reach that way, some find
their way here. Magic is a good way around things like lack of ability,
for example. I remember one young fella who was an execrable actor but
wanted to be a movie star..." The wizard drifted off.
"OK, OK," I interrupted his reverie, "but what's that got to do with
me?"
"I think it's obvious. There's something you want that you can't have.
As I said, that's how you found the place."
"What do mean, something I want? I have a good job, money in the bank,
no debt, and I don't dream of power. Just the damn shoelaces!" I turned
on my heel and walked to the door. When I reached for the knob, it moved
up eight inches. I reached for it again, and it scuttled across the door
to the hinge side. No matter what I did, I couldn't get my hand on it.
"OK, enough of this. Let me out of here."
"I think you're being rude to walk out in the middle of a conversation,"
he said. "Come back here and let's finish what we were talking about."
The futile chase for the doorknob was making me feel pretty silly, and I
didn't seem to have much other choice, so I returned to the counter.
He had taken out a large crystal ball. "Isn't that pretty hackneyed?" I
asked.
"Yes, but my cable's out," he answered. He looked into it (I couldn't
see anything, not even mist), muttered "Doggone reruns!" and banged on
the top a couple of times. "Ah, there we are--premium channel: Greg's
Head." I still couldn't see a thing in the ball.
"Ah. Ah. Oh. Oh, my. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Shame!" He looked up at me. "This
isn't good. I wouldn't have expected it of a respectable-looking person
like you."
"What are you talking about?"
"You're a pedophile!"
"I am _not_," I said heatedly. "You take that back or I'll..."
"I wouldn't." He gave me a menacing look. "The last person who took a
swing at me is spending the rest of his life as a penguin on an
Antarctic ice floe. It's cold there. And boring."
"Well, I have _never_ touched anyone underage."
"No, but you would certainly _like_ to," he said. "Hmmm." He looked into
the crystal again. "I see that you help out with your church youth
group. There's this girl, Heather, isn't there? I don't have to look to
know that you have turned red."
"So? A middle-aged bachelor can have fantasies, can't he? That's not
illegal. I don't have pictures or anything."
"As I said before, you wouldn't be here if it were just a fantasy. Maybe
you got here just in time."
"Just in time for what?"
"In time to keep you out of jail," he answered.
"What do you mean?"
"Your fantasies have progressed to _wants_. The next step after that is
_doing_. Followed by police, prosecutors, and prison guards. Prison
isn't kind to child molesters."
I didn't believe a word of it, but I figured I'd humor him. "So what do
I do now?"
"Let me see." He peered into the crystal again, then took out what
looked like nothing so much as a TV remote control and pointed it at the
crystal ball and clicked it. Then he looked again. "I see. Yes, that
will do."
"What will?"
"Answer some questions," he retorted. "You actually do love this girl,
it seems."
"Uh, yeah, I guess so."
"Well, that's something besides lust. Probably what got you in here
instead of the police station. Next question: You want her to love you?"
"Yes."
"But you really want to sleep with her, right?"
"Uh..."
"Answer the question!" He sounded angry.
"OK, yeah. I want to sleep with her."
"In fact, you are obsessed with her body, right? You want to be able to
explore every bit of it? Answer me!"
"Yes, dammit."
"And you know this is never going to happen, since you are more than
thirty years older than she is, right? Unless you do something against
the law?"
"I guess so. So what are you going to do, make me younger? Make her
older?"
"Do you think it would be fair to take away her youth just to satisfy
your lust?"
"I guess not."
"I don't think much of teenage sex, either," he harrumphed. "Well, the
crystal thinks this is what you need, in that case." He reached under
the counter and produced an old-fashioned alarm clock, the kind with the
big dial and the two bells on each side of the top stem.
"An alarm clock?"
"Yes, one of my specials. $21.95 today only. After today, the cost to
you goes up to whatever the bail bondsman charges. This shop won't be
around." That sounded pretty ominous. I winced.
"You say this will keep me out of jail?"
"More than that, it will give you everything you say you want. You get
to sleep with Heather, enjoy her body, and I guarantee you will both
love each other."
I looked at the clock. The numbers on it were backwards, with 11 where
the 1 should be, 10 where the 2 should be, and so on. Only the 12 and 6
were in their right places.
I paid him the $21.95, and he put the clock into a paper shopping bag.
"OK, now what do I _do_ with this?"
"You wind it up and set the alarm for exactly six a.m. Then go to bed at
exactly midnight." I gathered this had something to do with the fact
that those were the only numbers correctly placed.
"Then what?"
"You stay out of jail. Guaranteed. Good-bye, Greg," he said with
finality, and made shooing motions toward the door.
This time, the doorknob stayed where it was. I walked out into the mall
corridor. When I looked back, there was only a blank wall where the
store had been. And as I left the corridor under the escalator, the
corridor too disappeared. The paper bag in my hand, heavy with the large
clock, was still there. Well, if the store were gone, the wizard, if
that's what he was, wouldn't be notifying the prosecutor or police. I
wondered if he could be right in his assessment that by tomorrow, I
would be on an irreversible course towards a life in prison.
I made my way to my car, put the clock in the trunk, and drove down
Samper Road to buy my shoelaces. The store was where the old man had
said it would be, and my right lace broke just as I was untying it to
put in the new pair. So that was all right.
When I got home, I almost forgot the clock was in the trunk. I went back
to the car after going inside and got it. Taking it out of the bag and
putting it on my nightstand, after moving several other things out of
the way, I began to wonder if it had all been a joke. But how could the
wizard, if that's what he was, have known all that. I'd never said a
word to anyone about Heather. Had someone seen me looking at her with
too much interest? And why would that someone mention it to the
proprietor of a magic shop? None of it made sense. Including the idea
that there were real wizards.
All that stuff about jail was preying on my mind the rest of the
evening, however, as I made dinner and got undressed for bed. I usually
turned in at 10:15 and got up at 5 or so for work, but as that hour
approached, I decided that the worst that could happen was that I would
feel like a fool, and I'd be an hour later than usual for work. Since I
usually came in way early, that wouldn't matter. So I deactivated my
clock radio and wound and set the big alarm for exactly six a.m. Then I
watched all of the 10 o'clock news on the Fox channel and followed it
with the news on the NBC outlet, which led into the Leno monologue. The
Michael Jackson jokes didn't seem too funny tonight--what was funny
about pedophilia anyway? I turned it off and realized it was 10 minutes
to midnight. Quickly I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and got
ready to turn in. I snapped off the light just as the big hand on the
windup clock reached vertical. Now what? The loud ticking didn't disturb
me as much as I thought it would, and I fell asleep.
***
Well, I can't actually say the wizard lied to me. Because the next
morning...
"Heather! Brittany! Time to get up! School bus will be here in an hour!"
The woman's voice didn't sound like my clock radio, nor was it the
expected alarm of a wind-up clock.
Heather had certainly been on my mind, but who was Brittany? Next to me
in bed, someone stirred and sat up, stretching. It was definitely
Heather. I knew that cute face and that blonde hair from my dreams.
Waking up in bed with her should have had me unbelievably horny, but I
felt...nothing. Not even when she leaned over and hugged me. Which felt
very strange.
"Come on, get up!" she said. "My turn to pick out what we're both going
to wear today! I just love being identical twins!" I think I fainted at
that point.
"Brittany! Brittany! Are you OK?" Heather was shaking me. "Should I get
Mom?"
I took several deep breaths. "Yeah, I guess so." My voice sounded almost
exactly like hers, except that it was in my head, not coming through my
ears. I sat up, and felt breasts moving on my chest as I did so. Then,
as I swung my legs over to get out of bed, I furtively checked between
them. There was no doubt what the wizard's clock had done. I was a
fifteen-year-old girl, just like Heather. In fact, exactly like Heather,
if her comment about identical twins was now correct.
Convinced I was all right, she had gone back to the dresser and was
tossing clothes onto the bed. "Let's wear pink today. I think the guys
really like the sweaters. Hey! You're supposed to get done in the
bathroom while I'm doing this. What's the matter with you?"
"I think I had a nightmare," I improvised. "I don't think I really slept
well."
"You could have fooled me," she said. "I don't remember you waking up in
the middle of the night. Anyway, if you don't get done, I'm going." And
she left, padding down the hall in her nightgown.
I started going through the clothes on the bed. There were two of
everything except socks, of which there were four. Knee-high. Including
two bras. I'd always wondered if Heather was a C or D cup. Now I knew.
D. So was I. No wonder the guys liked the sweaters...
"Geeze! What _is_ the matter with you today?" She'd come back from the
bathroom. There was no putting it off. I went down the hall the same
direction she had and found the biffy. Somehow I managed the task; there
seemed to be some memory I could tap into of Brittany's life, even
though she had never existed before this morning. I guessed that Heather
and her Mom, and just about everyone else would have new memories, too.
Powerful clock. I washed my face and came back to our room.
Heather was already dressed. "Come on, slowpoke!" I was actually nervous
about getting undressed in front of the girl I'd been fantasizing about
for months, but she took the decision out of my hands and pulled my
nightgown right over my head. "Honestly! Am I going to have to play
Mom?" I had no trouble putting on the panties, but I wasn't up to
fastening the bra. No wonder; I looked at her--a D cup was really not
the right size for either of us. Mom probably didn't want to face the
reality of DD bras for 15-year-old girls. Heather helped me fasten the
three hooks. I did OK from there with the sweater, skirt, and stockings.
Where were the shoes? I let her get them out. It was a relief to see
that they were fairly plain loafers; I didn't want to have to manage
heels just yet.
"Come on! Don't you want breakfast? I'm starved." I followed her
downstairs to the breakfast table. Dad was already eating, and reading
the newspaper. Mom was making some eggs for us. I felt like I was in a
1950s TV program; did people really live like that still? I was starting
to apprehend more and more of Brittany's memories, and I guess that at
least _we_ did.
I let Heather do most of the talking at breakfast. Mom was OK with my
explanation about not sleeping well for why I was so quiet. And then it
was time to catch the school bus. Yesterday I'd owned a new Mazda;
today, I was too young to drive. There were two bookbags by the door.
Which was mine? Oh. The one with the "B" on it. It was _heavy_. At least
for a teenage girl. I followed Heather out the door and down the block
to wait for the bus.
***
By the end of the day, I was pretty well tapped into being Brittany,
with Brittany's memories. Unfortunately, a lot of the detail of being
Greg was gone. Oh, I could remember being him and what he'd done with
his life for some fifty years, but I couldn't remember much of what he
_knew_. That morning, as I rode the bus, I'd thought high school would
be a breeze--been there, done that. By the time I got to third-period
geometry, I couldn't remember _anything_. Except what Brittany had
"studied" in her manufactured memory.
The other thing I noticed by afternoon was how _old_ all the teachers
were. Even though they were in their thirties, and I'd been over fifty.
The thin ice I'd been skating on before was coming through to me. The
Brittany me sure wasn't finding any of those old men attractive. On the
other hand, what was left of Greg was arguing with Brittany about
whether some of the seniors were cute or not. As Brittany, there was the
lure of the "older man." Like _two_ years older. As Greg, I wasn't going
on dates with _men_. No way! I still wanted to sleep with Heather.
The weirdest experience of the day was PE. Well, not the athletics.
Showering with forty naked teenage girls. Greg wanted to look; Brittany
didn't care. It was the last class of the day, and I was much more
Brittany than Greg by then. About 10 girls got to sit out the class
because of their period; I realized that sometime soon, that would be
Heather and me. Greg didn't want to so much as think about it.
***
Well, beyond this point, it's pretty much the diary of a teenage hottie.
Which is nothing new. I worried about making tryouts for cheerleader (of
course we made the squad; who could resist identical twins?) and having
a date for the spring dance. Greg was mostly gone. Oh, I could remember
being him, but I wasn't much like him any more.
So the wizard gave me what I wanted: Heather loves me--like a sister, of
course, and I love her pretty much the same way (with just a tinge of
Greg). And we sleep together; Mom and Dad were planning on just one
child, and there were things they couldn't handle financially for twins,
like separate bedrooms. So, we'll be going to the state university, not
any private college. I wonder if Heather would have done better alone,
without a twin sister, as her parents had planned.
And, yes, I get to check out her body any time I want to--just by
looking in the mirror, because my body is the same as hers. Of course,
double-D cups aren't as interesting when they are yours.
I still expected to be a teenage boy when the clock alarm went off. I
should have paid more attention to what the wizard said, because he
never promised anything that specific. And he did say he was against
teenage sex. Heather says she's waiting until after college, when she
gets married. I guess I'll do the same; I don't want to lose her before
I have to. I love my sister so much...
Nanette
- 25.06.2021
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