Stopped In To See What
They Had
Published early as a preview here
in our chat forum on Sunday, July 21, 2019.
Official publication date for the main page of
our site: Monday,
July 22, 2019.
This illustrated story was submitted anonymously.
To read this author's 1st
story, go to "Massaging Her Feet and Taking Photos".
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I was in a town I’d never been to before and was supposed to
meet a friend for lunch on a late spring day this past May. He had moved
up that way only late last fall, and so I was finally getting a chance to
meet up with him as time tends to get away in the winter and the holidays.
Get a phone call and he says he would be a good hour and
a half late as he had an emergency and apologized several times for it.
I said, “No worries man, things happen. Did
you want to reschedule and do this on another day? It’s beautiful
out, so the ride home wouldn’t be bad at all.”
“No, no,” he replied. “I have the day off
and wanted to hang out, eat, take you for a tour of some scenic back
country roads and go shoot off a few rounds after at the range. If you
want to bug out, I completely understand.”
Having taken my motorcycle, I laughed and told him, “I had a
nice 2½ hour drive this morning up this way, and
although the ride would be nice back, it’s only 10AM and I have
nothing planned for today or this afternoon brother.”
“Okay, cool. Hang out; check out some of the
stores in town," he replied. “I’ll get this done as
fast as possible and make it out that way! Let me
get going on this.” And that was that.
I look at my watch, 10AM, what can I do? I could fill up on
coffee and pie at the diner up the road I saw a few miles back, but I
really wanted to save room for lunch instead as I already had a big
breakfast before heading out. Not much a man can do, on a Tuesday, in a
little town where he doesn’t know where things are. I set out on my bike
hoping something would catch my eye and sure enough, as fate would have
it, that I would.
As I headed up the main drag, about a few miles out of town towards the
highway, there was one of those adult book stores. You know the one,
without windows and looking like a jack shack of assorted colors, beat up
signage and dirt parking lot. Well, I don’t entertain those places, not
with sites like this that cater to my particular fetish and of course,
with all the free everything on the internet, they never had any titles I
was interested in or any better than what I could get online, or in real
life… that is, until now. This time they had exactly what I wanted and
what I did get in real life… sexy, high arched, smooth female feet
attached to a woman who would make it worth the effort.
I see the sign above the place and then notice this young, sexy woman who
looked to be around 18-25, reaching into the back of an SUV that had its
hatchback up, as she leaned in, up on the balls of her feet and tip toes
while wearing flip flops, trying to get a big box out the back of it. I
had to pull around and play it off as if I had every intention of going
there to begin with.
I roll in, parking next to her SUV so I could get a closer look at those
perfect arches and gorgeous toes… the kind I like, longer and from toe to
pinky in descending length… looking to be about a size 7. She was too busy
still digging in her truck and I could have taken a photo with my cell
phone, but I didn’t want to ruin my chances for something more.
So I turned off the motorcycle and called over to her. “Hi,
did you need some help?”
She leaned out the back of the SUV, looked over at me and
then said, “Yeah, actually I could. I have this heavy display
platform I borrowed for work and now I’m having trouble sliding it
out.”
Standing about 5’5”, blonde curly hair, blue eyes, perfect body, what
looked to be natural 34b breasts, with that tiny waist and ass in those
jean shorts, she was perfect. Now I’m not an ass man, but I will look when
I see one worth looking at and yeah, this woman had one worth looking at.
Her legs were shapely, not muscular, but solid; more like gymnast or
dancer’s legs though not thick in any of the wrong places. She also had a
nice gap between her legs, perfect for, well… anyway.
She had this cube looking black and silver laminate box stand about 2’h x
5’ x 4’ and it was getting caught up on the crook between where the seat
folded down into the middle.
Moving aside so I could get it out, I tell her, “Just go
ahead and get the door, and I’ll carry it in for you if you like. I
wanted to check out your store anyway.”
I asked where she wanted it as she was already directing me to just put it
near the pole where the electrical outlet was. You could clearly see the
dirt and dust marks on the floor from where it was moved and never swept.
As she laughed about the incident,
she said, “I borrowed it last night to use in part
of a routine I was doing while dancing, but I don’t think I’m going to
do that again. I almost fell and broke my ankle.”
“Well, that would be a huge shame. One, because it would hurt, two
because you don’t want to lose time dancing, and three, because you
have some very beautiful feet,” I assured her.
She laughs and says, “Thanks… but they don’t feel beautiful.
They hurt and then I had to come in and open this morning so. I
usually don’t come in until mid-afternoon on the nights I don’t dance.
But I needed the money and I had to get this display stand back to
work here. I’ve never seen you around here before.”
Putting her hand
out to shake mine, she added, “I’m Ali. Where are you from?”
“I’m Jack.” As we shook hands, I
told her I was in town to see a friend, from the next state over. I told
her he was running late, and so I had to look for something to pass the
time. I told her that I never checked out these stores, but that I caught
sight of her having some trouble in the back of her SUV, and well, “Here
I was.”
Then I asked her if she minded if I took a quick look around?
She replied, “Yeah, go ahead. We don’t actually open until
11:30AM or so, but being that you were kind enough to help me, sure. I
was going to set up this display anyway, and then just play on the
computer and phone until we open. Let me lock the door because if they
see my truck, people will start coming in.”
I look around, laughing under my breath at the many kinks that people
have, and how I was embarrassed about having a foot fetish for so many
years. Now being an adult and knowing my way around women, and their feet,
I was the complete opposite of being shy or embarrassed… I was dangerous,
lol. Not dangerous, more like, an unhealthy habit? Wait, that doesn’t
sound right. Let’s just say, if a woman has a man (or woman) in her life,
I would warn her first before I touched her feet. I know that will make
sense to this audience, lol.
So I begin looking at a few videos in the various sections they have
labeled, and she comes back in. There was like a hallway entrance so that
you couldn’t just look or walk right in. Then she goes behind the counter,
which was raised. I guess to spot shoplifters? Then she did the amazing…
she kicked off her flip-flops, and put both of her feet up onto the
counter, crossed at the ankles, and started to flex her toes while
wiggling her soles. I swear, in this setting, and at that moment, I got so
hard, and wanted to just go up and start licking them as they were at
perfect face level with me standing at 6’2” in my motorcycle boots.
I casually stroll over to where she’s sitting so I could take a closer
look at those sexy soles and toes as she’s flexing them every which way.
I asked, “Your feet really do hurt, huh? It
must be tough dancing in heels all night? Who massages your feet at
home… your cat or your dog?”
Great line to drop guys, to see if she has a boyfriend or
girlfriend.
“Ha! I do… if I want them rubbed, but it’s never
as good as when you go for a pedicure. I’m overdue for one as the
dancing ruins them. I should go just for the foot rub,”
she moaned.
This was going to be too easy.
“Well, if it matters any, you’re in luck. I
do reflexology, and know my way around feet better than most. I’ve
even given 1-hour lessons for couples on Valentine’s Day, and do
bridal party packages before the big wedding day. My friend had an
emergency and I literally have an hour or more to kill so, would you
like a foot massage?”
You should have seen the look on her face.
As she started looking in her purse,
she exclaimed, “Really! You would do that for me?! How much
do you charge? I don’t know how much I have on me?”
“Whoa, whoa… thank you, but no, you can’t pay
me,”
I replied. “I
know what kind of woman you are; you’ve got a big heart, a giver.
Probably love your family, loyal to friends, and gives to a fault,
right?”
She smiled and said, “Guilty, and it’s my
worse trait. I get taken advantage of by too many as a result.”
“Well, not today. I’ve got two gifts for you…
the best foot massage you’ve ever had, and the gift of receiving,”
I told her.
“The gift of receiving?” She asked. “I’ve
never heard of that.”
“Yes. We givers are terrible at it. When we say to people, 'Oh
no, you don’t need to do that' or 'No thank you'
whenever someone tries to do something nice or generous for us, we are
robbing them of that joy of giving that we like to give to others.”
“I never thought of it that way. It makes perfect sense,”
she replied.
I then took off my jacket, and I was looking exceptionally good thay day.
Beard trimmed close, biker shirt on, muscles flexing.
“If you’ve got some lotion and an extra
chair, I could sit right next to you, and you can prop them up.”
I told her.
She pointed to a chair in the corner, a folding chair,
and I brought it over to set up shop so to speak, lol. She was sitting
in a nice chair stool that had a backing and cushions, and so this put
her up a little bit higher than me.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe this. Are you sure I
can’t pay you something?” She said sympathetically as
she dug out some lotion from her purse; women always have lotion on them.
“Only if you want to rob me” I laughed, “But
you can play on your phone or we can talk if you like. I’m just
waiting for my friend to call.”
The moment I put my hands on her feet, she lets out a sigh and a moan of
pleasure.
“Oh my God!” She exclaimed! “Your hands feel warm and cool. My
feet are always cold. This is wonderful already!”
I told her, “Wow, then wait until I get
started. As for cold feet, I’m always warm and love it when
girlfriends put their feet on my stomach, and even my face when we’re
watching a movie on the couch. It’s like having a cold compress. You
don’t have to get up and make it cold again.”
“Aww, that’s so awesome that you rub your girlfriend’s feet.
She must really love that!” She said, smiling my way.
As I lamented
while concentrating on rubbing her sexy feet, and while I enjoyed
looking at them, I replied, “Girl… friends as in,
when girls come over to see a movie, after a motorcycle ride, have
me cook them dinner, or all of the above. I’ve been divorced for
over a year now, and have just started getting back into the dating
scene. And well, what’s that saying about? 'The Devil you
know?' Sometimes everything we complain about being in a
relationship ... then consider how wonderful it is when dating
again.”
She said with some surprise in her voice, “You
cook dinner too? How often do you drive your motorcycle up this way? I
don’t have a boyfriend, just a crazy schedule with my life, but I
could definitely find time for this. And I’ve always wanted to go for
a ride on a motorcycle. I saw yours had a backrest and storage and
music, and a windshield; that must be a lot of fun?!”
“Hold that thought. Let me finish your massage first and see
how I rate. That way you, won’t be riding off with some stranger who
can’t cook or rub feet properly,” I said with a chuckle.
I then applied a bit more lotion and started to press a bit deeper, and on
spots I know which can trigger orgasms. And I wasn’t lying when I said I
did reflexology for a living. However, I’ve never let my fetish cross over
into my professional life. With so many people shooting photos of women’s
feet online, getting footjobs, and making a living off of it, I feel that
I provide a necessary service. And I don’t exploit anyone in the process,
so I know my boundaries and professional limits. So why shouldn’t I enjoy
what I do for a living as well?
Her body started to tense up as I rolled my thumb up
through her arch. Her head leaned back as she let out a moan.
“OH MY God!” She exclaimed! “That feels… SO GOOD!”
Then she quickly realized where she was, and opened her
eyes with a laugh. “I didn’t mean to say that like that,” she said. “You just hit a few spots that kind
of… Woooo, oh yeah!”
Her eyes were wide open as if to imply something a bit
more… delicious. We both laughed.
“I seriously haven’t had a real foot massage
like this in a long time, from a man with good hands. Your hands are
manly and strong, but they are so smooth,” she
continued.
I reminded her that I did this for a living and that
construction worker’s hands with callouses or mechanic’s hands with oil
under the nails wouldn’t actually be welcomed.
I said, “I’ve probably had as much essential
oils on my hands as I have motor oil from working on that bike out
there.”
“Is there anything you don’t do?”
She asked.
“Drugs… Well, except for Molly at raves. And
cocaine. I mean, I don’t use cocaine. I just like the way it
smells.” I said this really straight-faced as she
looked at me without knowing how to respond.
So I quickly added, “I’m kidding. That was a
joke! Drugs were never my thing. I do play piano, shoot professional
photography, write, travel and many other things. But right now, I'm
enjoying talking with you, and giving you the best foot massage
you’ve ever had.”
“Well, if we being completely honest here, I’m
not going to lie, but this is seriously turning me on, and I’m having
mixed emotions on whether or not to let you continue, or whether if I
can handle it,” she admitted.
“That’s quite the compliment, qualifies as a
tip really. Could you quote that on a Yelp review if I give you a
link?” I jokingly responded back at her. “Can
I up the ante on honesty then?”
She smiled, and gave me a look as if to say, “Go
ahead, I’m listening.”
I replied, “You’d be surprised at how many
women LOVE having not only their feet massaged, but at how many more
get turned on or even demand it be part of their sex life. I can’t say
I’m a player, but I’ve massaged so many women’s feet, that I’ve
learned quite a bit about sex over the years, just from talking with
each one during a session. You’d think I was a hairstylist or
something with the stuff they wind up sharing. Now I know how my
barber feels.”
I continued, “I even met a few along the way who after
touching their feet innocently, quickly learned that some of them
loved having them kissed, toes sucked or licked, worshipped if you
will. And then, this one woman introduced me to foot sex; literally
having sex with her feet, and I’ve got to tell you, it was amazing.”
She threw her head back, and said, “Ohh, why me God… Why?!”
I was worried I turned her off, so I asked, “I hope I didn’t
say something to offend you, Did I?”
She quickly responded, “No, no, it’s not that. My feet have
always been sensitive, kind of how you’re describing these other
women, but I’ve never met a man who really knew how to touch them like
that. I told you I dance and almost every night, there will be a guy
who is staring, only at my feet, and who get lap dances and then wants
to touch them. Thing is, they aren’t the kind of guys I want doing it
and so, even for the money, it never turns me on because I can’t bring
myself to enjoy it, especially at work. Does that make sense?”
She was looking at me for support, and hoping that she
didn’t say anything wrong.
“I get you, completely,” I
reassured her “But you seriously never had a guy who
worshipped your feet properly or in a sexual way that you could really
get off to?” Then
I quickly added, “Sorry,
you don’t have to answer that; I shouldn’t have asked it that way.”
She bit her lip, and answered back, “Oh my God! I would
absolutely love that! Are you kidding?”
And so, confidence being sexy, I kept the conversation moving, noticing
that it was only 10:36 am, so we still had plenty of time to massage and
get “acquainted” as it were.
So I said to her, “I
know we just met about a ½ hour ago, but I feel comfortable both
talking with you, and working on your feet. I always get paid to do
what I do, and so do you, but this is a unique situation here for us
both. So if you’re up for it, and can trust me here…”
Cutting me off, she laughed and said, “Yeah,
actually. Guys pay to touch my feet, and I would definitely pay you
for what you’re doing instead. Please don’t tell me you are done yet.”
“No, no,”
I laughed.
As I feigned
embarrassment, and turned red since it works so well in the “charming
department” as it
were, I added, “I was just going to ask you… but would you
let me continue with the gift of giving, and for you to enjoy
someone worshipping your feet properly?”
She looked at the clock, and back at me, and said, “I
was hoping you were going to say that. We have almost an hour, and
there are no cameras on until the store signs and everything is turn
on with the timer. So if it’s anything like what you’re doing with
your hands, go for it. I was wearing flip-flops before you started,
but I showered this morning. Let me go rinse them off real quickly.”
She took her feet from my lap, and put her flip-flops
back on. They looked pretty new, and only had
the start of toe prints in them. Then she went to the bathroom to wash
them.
She called out, “This is perfect because I
had to pee, and I didn’t want to move or for you to stop and leave.”
Girls and having to pee, every single time, lol.
She hurried back doing a run-walk shuffle, and got back
in her chair. Her flip-flops hit the floor as she pulled her knees up
while she gripped the sides of the stool.
As began
fluttering her feet at the ankles in midair, she said, “I
can’t believe I’m doing this. You don’t have to do this if you don’t
want, really. I wouldn’t mind more foot massage, but if you’re done,
they feel so good right now, I’d be happy either way.”
I wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. This was some
serious flirting going on. Seeing just how confident, and what kind of man
of action I was to take control. Yeah, those feet were getting worshipped,
and more if I was lucky.
Throwing the ball back in her court, but giving her options as well, I
replied, “Oh, there’s no chance I’m leaving just
yet. We have at least 45 minutes here, and I’ll make you a deal. If
you love the worshipping, I’ll continue. If you want your feet rubbed
instead, I’ll finish with that. Sound good?”
“Do it… please… I can’t look,” she said with her eyes
closed. For a woman who worked in the sex industry, it was nice to see
this side of her that maybe she didn’t get a chance to express. Like I
said, she looked young, so maybe she just wasn’t jaded by life, and bad
relationships yet. For the present moment, she was going to be treated
like a Goddess.
With that, I grabbed her left foot and placed it down on my
right thigh. Then I took her right foot and pulled it towards me; placing
my two warm hands around it, slowly bringing it up to my face.
Her toes splayed open and scrunched a bit as I held her foot just inches
in front of me. I moved in so that my nose could take a whiff of any foot
smell that might have remained, but they were clean so that only the scent
of the lotion I had been using a few moments ago lingered.
She opened her eyes with her head slightly turned to take
a peek. She was playing with me, but I knew I was in full control.
“Spread those toes,” I
commanded with a firm tone. Not loudly. Just direct; as I started to
sniff between them.
“Mmm,” I continued. “I hope they taste as good as they
smell. It’s like when you smell something delicious, your mouth
waters and then you have to eat it. I’m going to eat these little
sexy feet.”
My nose brushed in between them. As her body slightly
shuddered, I let my tongue lightly lap away at her sole, testing to see
just how sensitive it was.
“Ohhhhh… yes…” she mumbled. “You
really do know your way around feet. Do your clients ever ask for, and
get this kind of treatment?”
“Only if I want their boyfriends or husbands coming in to kill
me, or a major lawsuit on my hands,” I laughed. “Don’t
make me laugh; I want you to enjoy this.”
“I am, I am… please don’t stop,” she replied. “I
can’t believe I’ve never done this before. Maybe I should just close
my eyes and let men worship them from now on.”
I then told her about the many foot parties around major
cities, and what not, and I would tell her more afterwards.
That's when I asked her, “If
you don’t mind me asking, how long is never?” I was
hoping she’d take the subtle cue as you never want to ask a woman her
age.
“Oh, I’m 22,” she answered while
giggling. “How old are you?”
“44,” I replied.
She sat up a little in her seat, and yelled, “WOW! What?! I
thought you were maybe 28 or 29, maybe even 30 when you said divorced!
You have a baby face and in great shape I see. You know, I could hook
you up with A LOT of women I know who are divorced or who dance, but
then, I don’t know if I’d want to share you unless they would let you
come over and do my feet every now and then?”
I started full on blushing to which she smiled, and noticed right away.
I needed to take back control of this and really get into
it. I had such a hard on at that moment. I was hoping to worship her
sexy feet, get back to that diner up the way, and crank one out in the
bathroom before my friend arrived because there was no way I was going
riding all day like that.
“Thank you so much. I hear that a lot. That’s
why I wear this shadow beard (a close number 1 shave that makes me
look like a man.” Baby faced guys know this
dilemma.
Trying to put us back in the moment
before this dream ended too soon, I added, “Now close your eyes, ease back, and no more
talking.”
10:44AM. I still had plenty of time to enjoy her feet. I
took her right foot, which I was kneading with my thumbs the entire
time, and I hit her sensitive orgasmic spots. Then I raised her foot
slightly higher while pulling her foot downward. I slowly lapped my
tongue from her heel to her toes, and worked through her arches in a
figure eight, across the ball of her foot as I darted through each and
every toe.
She started to breathe a bit heavier. I had my two
fingers on the pulse on the side of her foot. Bringing her big toe into
my mouth, I sucked and continued to lick and dart my tongue around her
toes. Then on to the next one, then the next, and then to her pinky toe.
I then brought two or three of her toes back into my mouth as I worked
back towards the big toe. All this while I continued to rub, and massage
her foot at the same time.
“This is amazing. I love it! Can you lick the
bottom of my foot again?” She asked. “All of it feels incredible, but that really felt
different, in a good way.”
“Like this?” I asked as I started to really lap
away at the bottom of her foot. I made sure to touch her other foot, which
was resting on my right thigh the entire time, getting my thumb into her
arch as it was also scrunching and flexing while I worshipped away. Then I
moved towards her heel, and put my entire mouth around it whole giving her
this biting and sucking thing I do, which hits all the nerves that run
directly up to the vagina.
“Yeah, yeah… ooooh!” She exclaimed! “I wish
you were my boyfriend right now. This is totally crazy. I’m wet right
now.”
She wasn’t kidding either. She had that flush that women
get, on their chest, when they're wet or having an orgasm.
“I so want to use my buzzy toy right now,”
she said, which turned out to mean a tiny vibrator with a corded speed
controller she had on her.
The heck with it. She was more turned on than I thought
she was going to be, and I got more foot play than I intended, so with
that I responded, “Listen, we’re in an adult toy shop of
all places. It wouldn’t be that bizarre for you to use one, all
things considered. As far as I go, I have a good life back home, a
son I love, and a friend who’s waiting to go riding today. Believe
me when I say that I’m not going to take advantage of you in any way
as I want to go riding with my friend this afternoon, not to jail.”
As I said it in a light, disarming and kidding around
tone, she replied, “If it makes you feel any better, look
what you’ve done to me!”
As I moved her other foot that was resting on my thigh,
she noticed the wet spot of pre-cum that had developed as well as the
outline of my now erect 8” penis straining through my jeans.
“Nice… Did I do that with my just my feet? Oh
God, yeah, let’s do this, before I change my mind,”
she said in a hurried and flustered voice. She then reached for her
buzzy in her bag and added, “I’m going to keep my shorts
on, but slip them down a bit. Don’t worry, I won’t mind if you take
a peek. I’m used to it.”
With that, she winked at me and got ready to bliss out.
The sound of her toy turned on as she moved it down into her
panties, a lacey thong and the kind that I was used to seeing all over my
house from time to time when girls stayed over. My God! She’s half my age,
and my son is almost 15. I was hard pressed as to whether I would share
this story with my friend or not, but I knew I'd be buying him lunch and a
beer, and not telling him why if I don’t, lol.
With that, I picked up her other neglected foot, and began to administer
the same treatment I had just given her first foot.
She looked at the clock and said, “10:51,
good. We can play until 11:15. I'll have plenty of time. I’m almost
there. Thank you so much for this!”
She was thanking me? Seriously? I’m was inwardly thanking
her. God, my guardian angels, my friend, his wife who had the emergency,
the owner of the shop, whoever controls time in the universe, and finally,
that I have a foot fetish. I’m at odds with it at times as it’s served to
be as much of a distraction or addiction as it’s been a pleasure to
indulge in. So maybe I lied a little when I said I wasn’t into drugs. If
more women only knew about how their feet were actually like cocaine to
guys with a foot fetish, lol, they’d make a small fortune, especially
Columbian girls whose feet I love the most.
As I resumed worshipping her feet, now on her other, more sensitive foot,
her right foot came down to rest on top of my penis as it tends to follow
my left pant leg with a mind of its own, as always, lol. I didn’t think it
was deliberate, at first, but she did see it a moment earlier, and now she
wasn’t moving it either. No, instead she started flexing and scrunching
her toes on it, driving me crazy. Over the damp spot that had already
formed, and she was only making it worse as she continued. Or even better?
I licked, sucked, manipulated and brought her pleasure for the next
several minutes, and then I brought both of her feet up to my face. I had
a firm grasp on both of her ankles while I really started lapping away at
them both.
She was moaning while her toy buzzed. and hummed along,
saying, “Yes, yes, please… don’t stop… almost there, almost
there… Ooohhh, please don’t stop, I need to cum… I’m going to cum…
please, please… almost there.”
And no, I had no intention of stopping.
Then she exclaimed, “YES, YES,
YES, GOD YES, OH, KEEP GOING, KEEP GOING, YES!”
The sound of that buzzy toy was grinding and going, and
then it finally turned off a few moments later as her body went from
rigid to relaxed with that flushed and dreamy look on her face.
With that, I stopped licking and slowly brought both of
her feet down into my lap so that they are both resting on my penis. I
gently ran my hands over the tops of them, and then I firmly ran my
hands up the back of her calves to loosen them out. As I pushed my hand
up the back of her calves, she pushed down a bit onto my crotch even
more. I waited.
She opened her eyes half way, looked at me, and then
closed them again with a grin. Then she opened them again, and looked at
me in a dreamlike state while smiling, and giggling again.
She made some kind of “brrrugggh”
noise as if to say, “Yeah, we just did this.”
Then she started patting her feet and toes on my hard as
steel penis through my pants. She asked me, “Are you going
to be okay? Do you need to use the bathroom? There are tons of out
of date magazines if you want. I feel bad. I got way more out of
this than you did, and now you have blue balls. Did it feel good
when I was pressing on your dick? I hope I didn’t tease you too
much, but I also hoped you might shoot off in your jeans. I know,
I’m bad.”
That was it. Remember this guys… IT NEVER HURTS TO ASK.
No means no, except when it means yes, lol. So I said to her, “Honestly,
I’d love to give your feet a little bit more lotion. Being that your
feet are always cold, it would be super warm too.”
She looked at the clock. 11:08AM. Then she asked, “Do
we have time? What did you want to do?”
While grabbing a cushion, and placing it on the chair I
was on, I told her, “Get on your knees, and put both feet
together with your soles facing up. I would love to show you what
else foot fetish play consists of.”
She replied, “That’s cool. God, I wish more
of my boyfriends would do this. Play with my feet, and then finish
on them instead of my tits or my face or wanting me to swallow?
Maybe we should date?”
God, don’t tempt me, but then, without passing judgment, I’d
have a hard time (literally) explaining to my friends, family, any court
related matters regarding our son in the future and others as to how I’m
dating a girl half my age, and worse, how we first met. The idea of her
setting me up with girlfriends (and probably girls from work) started to
sound like it might just be a good deal in another state over no less.
Like going to Vegas where what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, lol.
“Like this?” She asked as she got up on the
chair in that awesome soles up pose while presenting me with her sexy,
smooth, young cum catchers that were ready to get a huge load all over
them. She looked over her shoulder to watch me as I hurried to undo my
belt to whip it out. The head of my penis was glistening with pre-cum, and
I was hard as a bar of steel.
I warned her, “I shoot a massive load, so don’t be startled.”
It was blowing my mind to see that her flip flops were
directly below the target of her soles, which were hovering above them.
She’d be walking in my sticky load for the next few days when I was
done, and it didn’t take long. The nice part was she was flexible.
I held her feet from underneath, and brought them right
under my heavy balls. I told her to flex and squeeze them with her toes.
She did, and then she looked at the clock and said, “We don’t
have much time baby, but enjoy them… just make sure to finish.”
I was stroking it at a fast pace now as a nice string of pre-cum beaded up
on the tip, and dripped down to her wrinkled soles like a string of sweet
honey. Then I told her to push up a bit harder with her one foot as I took
her other foot so that I could begin fucking between the gap of her big,
and second toe as much as she could spread around my hard cock and head.
“Do it baby, DO IT! Shoot your hot seed all over my feet. Do
it for me, yeah baby. Go ahead, shoot that load!” She
commanded me, sounding like she was getting turned on again. But we didn’t
have time to go for round 2 or 3 unfortunately.
I said, “Oh yeah, I’m going to cum. That did it for me… Count
me down, from 10 to 1.”
She laughed and said, “Really? Oh my God,!
I’ve never done that. Okay… 10, 9, 8…”
“Wait, wait… not like a time bomb counting
down… sexy, breathy, a little slower,” I said.
I was so close, but I also wanted it to last as I
switched to a final position, wrapping both of her feet around my hard
shaft, and fucking her tight little foot pussy between those deep tiny
arches of her, a size 6 I discovered by the way.
“Oh sorry,” she replied. “10…
9… come on baby… 8… cum on my feet… 7…”
And with that, I felt that sensation that every guy loves cumming for.
That surge of adrenaline and dopamine as my balls tightened, and I felt an
explosion that was building like a champagne bottle that was abruptly
shaken and ready to pop!
“6… 5… you can do it baby… cum on these sexy feet… 4… 3… 2…”
And just as she was about to say that final number, I
pulled my hard cock out from between her arches, held both feet together
in my left hand and then aimed my head towards both arches as she
continued to flex and spread those amazing toes.
“One!”
“SPLAT!” A long rope of cum
directly hit onto the bottom of her left foot, covering it entirely.
“Oh my God! You weren’t kidding! That’s a lot of cum!”
She said excitedly.
“SPLAT! SPLAT!”
The next two coated her right foot, and then another in
between both of her feet. I began rubbing the head of my penis through
the puddle that formed, and continued to stroke at a good pace. Then, “Splooge”
as another rope dropped onto her soles as I pressed down on them. Then,
shaking and tapping the rest out, 2 to 3 smaller amounts covered her
heels as my cum started to drip between her toes, and down onto her
flip-flops below.
“I have never seen a man come that much, ever.
Do you even jerk off?” She asked as she stepped down,
one foot directly into her flip-flop with her other knee still on the
chair, and her other foot that pointed at the floor so that the rest of
the cum dripped down the same.
“I won’t lie. I’ve heard that from every woman I’ve been with, but I
have no idea what the average or normal is. I’ve never been with a
guy, and never plan to, ” I told her laughing out loud
while I held my now deflated penis in my hand as I tucked it back into my
pants.
It's amazing how stranger sex can turn from awesome to
awkward in the turn of a moment, either with a word or the wrong
movement. There wasn’t that vibe of awkward as much as there was, “We’re
in a store where people will be in the next 18 minutes, and we’re
both sitting here wet in our own, and each other’s cum.”
Yeah, talk about stories that are hard to share and
worse, explain if her boss were to show up out of nowhere, LOL!
She slipped on her other flip-flop, and said, “I
need to wash my feet and flip-flops real quickly, and go pee again.
You can go next, but could I ask you for one last bit of help? I never
set that stand back up again. Could you help me put the merchandise
back on it before you go? Just hand it to me to arrange?”
Let me think? Awesome, fun girl… awesome feet… who just let me worship and
cum all over them… Hmm, what should I do?
“Yeah, of course I will. I think I signed up
to do that when I first offered to help you outside, no?”
And that was that.
She came out of the bathroom after cleaning off her feet,
and putting on her socks and sneakers. Then she made her way over to the
box stand as I used the bathroom real quickly. Then I came out to help
her place that merchandise rack on its stand as we placed the stuff to
go on it.
Then I got a text message, “11:19am – Sean –
Yo, on my way. Meet me at the gas station in town so we can gas up.
Be there in 12-13 minutes.”
“Perfect timing!” I said aloud
as I read the message.
I then turned to Ali and asked, “That was my
friend. Would you mind if I took a photo or two of your feet before
I go? I wasn’t going to tell him about this, but he’s my best
friend, and now I want to rub it in about how he made me wait so
long before I tell him what really happened instead. He won’t
believe it, and so I’ll have proof with a timestamp if you could.”
She was super cool and said while giving me a wink, , “Sure
thing. Maybe you can even enjoy them later tonight if you’re still a
bit hard from playing today.”
I think I was busted at that point as I realized she had
probably known about my foot fetish the entire time. I mean, she was a
dancer and already told me that she had foot fetish guys asking all the
time about her feet. But I did believe her when she said she never had
anyone worship them the way I just had. You can’t fake that flush, and
playing with your toy in front of a stranger, the way it all just
happened… or maybe you can, who knows? There was this red cushioned
seating thing that they had in the sexy dancer shoes section. Hell, if I
had time, I would have had her modeling them for me for a photo set
instead. She sat down there real quickly.
“Sorry, you have your sneakers and socks on
already,” I started to say as she interrupted me while
taking them off.
“3 seconds, see. I love being barefoot
anyway, but I need to wear them in the store as my feet would be
freezing with the A.C. on otherwise.”
She sat down and then propped her feet back up on to my
knee as I snapped off a few quick shots.
“I hope you continue to enjoy them,”
she said, with a wink and a smile.
I didn’t ask for her number, or whether we would see each
other again. I don’t think anything would come close to this, and I
definitely didn’t want a relationship; with her knowing about my life back
home; something normal and stable… my safe world back home. I mean, she’s
22, I’m 44 and well, we could both broaden each other’s worlds and have
some really great times. Heck, I’d love to take her for a ride on the
motorcycle… so, maybe it’s not me I’m trying to protect, maybe it’s her?
Nah, I tend to turn into “that other guy”
whenever I travel anywhere away from home it would seem… where I can truly
be me, and trouble tends to find me with incidents like what I described;
that and something more.
Something dangerous… an unhealthy habit… possibly an addiction… definitely
a fetish.
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