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A Brief Encounter All Too Short
Published on Friday, June 15, 2007
This story was submitted by Tickle Man who welcomes your comments.

(To send Tickleman an e-mail, click his name above to access his profile, which includes his e-mail address.)

To read Tickleman's 1st story, click The Arrangement.

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I was recently doing some work on my laptop computer in a local coffee shop when a most amazing encounter took place. A beautiful woman with absolutely perfect feet sat next to me. I wanted to tell her how terrific her feet looked, but I felt awkward about saying anything to her because she was with her husband who didn't look particularly friendly. Luckily for me, as soon as the two of them claimed their table, her husband made a beeline for the bathroom.

I knew that if I didn't say something to her soon, my opportunity to say anything at all would be lost once her husband returned. She had caught me looking at her feet the moment she brushed past me to sit down, and gave me a knowing smile, almost as if she appreciated knowing I admired the beauty of her feet. I could have read her wrong, but I thought I would take a chance to find out.

"I guess you caught me staring at your feet," I said to her rather sheepishly. "I hope that you weren't put off by it."

"Not at all," she answered back with a friendly tone of voice. "I like it when men pay attention to my feet."

Pointing to her ring finger, I said, "I see that you're married. I'm guessing that your husband is a foot man, huh?"

"Not really," she replied. "He doesn't have a foot fetish if that's what you're asking." Without missing a beat, she asked, "Do you have a foot fetish?"

"Uh, yes, I do." I stammered back. Thinking better of it, I added, "But even if I didn't, it would be hard not to notice how beautiful your feet are. They're just perfect, and they look SO soft."

Her feet were perfectly pedicured, and sported an apple read polish, which was one of my favorite colors. She wore flip-flops, so luckily I had a great view.

Evidently seeing her husband coming back from the restroom from afar, her demeanor changed a bit, and and she quickly warned me, "Listen, my husband's a really jealous guy. It's probably better if we stop talking, and whatever you do, don't tell him how great you think my feet look. He'll blow a gasket."

"Got it," I quickly replied in a loud whisper, and then I turned back to my computer screen as if she and I had never been talking. From the corner of my eye I could see her husband returning to the table.

Then her husband did an about face after getting to the table, and announced to his wife, "I just heard them calling our number. I'll be right back."

When his back was turned, and he was halfway to pick up their order, I half jokingly said to his wife, "Maybe you should swtich places with your husband so that I won't find your feet so tempting." I was sitting in a corner of the coffee shop to give myself a little privacy with my laptop, and the two of them were at a table to my immediate right. They had seated themselves next to one another rather than across from each other, probably for the comfort of the cushioned seating along the wall, and she was the closest one to me.

Somewhat to my surprise, and with her previously friendly demeanor back again, she said, "Oooh, now you have me intrigued," and coyly added with some rhetoric, "Whatever do you mean?"

Both of us realized that her husband had picked up their order, and he was on his way back to the table. "You're welcome to find out," I quickly said to her as I hid my mouth with my hand while rubbing my cheeks, and pretending to study something on the screen of my laptop.

Except for a slight rise of her eyebrows to quietly acknowlege what I had offered, nothing more was said. Her husband returned, and they got into a rhythm of their own conversation, which seemed to be about some kind of remodeling project of a property that they evidently owned together. He did most of the talking.

As they continued their conversation, and ate their meal, I sipped my coffee, and tried to do some work on my laptop. To my luck, and much to my pleasure, I was somewhat astonished to see her take her flip-flops off, and tuck her feet underneath her butt. Her back was to me, and she was facing her husband with a straight-on view, seemingly giving him all of her attention. But I got the attention I wanted; the attention of her feet. I had a perfect view of her wrinkled soles, which were only inches away from my right thigh. I could easily touch them in relative privacy, and touch them I did.

To be discreet, I could really only touch the soles of her feet with my right hand. It would have been too awkward, and too noticible if I had twisted myself around to use both of my hands, and I didn't want to ruin this perfectly good opportunity to explore, massage, tease, and titillate this beautiful women's sexily wrinkled soles. The moment I began touching her soles, she scrunched up her toes to give me a reassuring approval that I could continue. Then she relaxed, and nobody was the wiser.

Her soles were some of the softest I had even known. For the next half hour I explored every crevice and wrinkle of her feet. I also gave what I thought was one of the best one-handed foot massages I had ever given. This wasn't the first time that I had done something like this, and hopefully I thought to myself, "It won't be the last."

My time with her feet was far too short, maybe about a half hour, but it had to end because they left together. She didn't have an opportunity to say anything to me after we had last talked, but before she left, she had dicsreetly reached behind herself with her right hand, and gave my right hand a warm, and long friendly grip of appreciation. And when she could, she gave me a wink and a smile as the two of them left.

I don't expect anything more to come of this encounter. After all, she is a married woman. But it would be nice if I could get another opportunity to see her in this same coffee shop again so that we could more or less have a little foot fetish fun again. I would love to have an affair with her feet.

This story was submitted by Tickle Man who welcomes your comments.

(To send Tickleman an e-mail, click his name above to access his profile, which includes his e-mail address.)

To read Tickleman's next story, click Foot Fetish Fun On The Beach.

Feel free to submit your comments about this story in our free foot fetish chat forum.
To do this, just click here for the story section topic to make your comments public.

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