I met her at work. She was working as a receptionist for the super computer division. Her name was Patricia, and she was an older girl. Mid-thirties, dark hair almost black. Built like the proverbial bombshell. She was 5'5" or so, maybe 125 pounds. And she almost always, when the weather was nice, wore mini-skirts. She was out back, smoking a cigarette, and as I went by I couldn't help but notice her gorgeous legs under that short skirt. I guess I was staring. She smiled, and said, "You like that, don't you?"

I said, "Yes, I sure do."

She said, "Well, at my age, if I can get that much of a reaction, it makes my day." We hit it off from there, and I asked if I could have her number and could we go out. Yes to both questions.

It was a few days later, Saturday, when I met her at her apartment. Of course, she was in a mini-skirt with no stockings on her smooth, tanned legs. She was also wearing black pumps with about 5" spike heels. She looked absolutely HOT! We had a few shots of whiskey, and I asked if we could maybe go back to my room. Yes, again. When we got into my car, off came the pumps from her bare feet. Now I was going nuts, and trying to drive while staring at her gorgeous feet and legs. "Don't tell me, you're into feet? What a turn on!" She asked, with a smile.

"Oh yes, and you are driving me totally insane!" I replied back.

We arrived at my room, I turned on some music, turned on one of my lamps, and located my bottle of Wild Turkey. She was in the mood to drink, a real whiskey girl. The more shots of whiskey she drank, the friendlier she got, so to speak. Off came the pumps again, we kissed long and wet and deep, with all sorts of tongue, and then she sprawled out onto my big, king-size bed. And many more shots of whiskey. She was going through my bottle of whiskey in no time. I showed her a couple of my photo albums as she lay on her stomach, with her bare feet up in "the pose."

She was getting drowsy, I saw. She said, slurring, "This is the first time I've cut loose in a long time. Can we just stay here in your room? If I passs out, will you take care of me? I'm buzzed. Just pull my clothes off, and let me cover up in your blanket."

Now was the time for me to ask, "When you crash, can I play with those gorgeous feet of yours?"

"You can have 'em, honey, they're yours." She replied back. A short time later she passed out, face down, on my bed.

I waited a little while to be sure she was really out. First, I reached under her and unbuttoned her white blouse. Off it came, as her arms limply flopped and her dark hair tossed forward, hiding her head. Her firm breasts were like twin melon shaped pillows cushioning her chest, pushing out her lace silk bra. Unsnapping that, I pulled it free. I noticed then the zipper on the back of that black mini skirt. A quick zip and a tug and down it slid over those perfect legs and free of her bare feet. I was working fast to get all of the clothes off of her.

I was shaking with the anticipation of being able to play with the bare feet of this gorgeous woman. All that was left was a pair of dangling earrings, a diamond ring on the next to pinky finger of her right hand, and silk thong bikini panties. What a perfect big ass she had, with firm, rounded cheeks. I slid those panties down off that beautiful ass, down her thighs, those wonderful legs, and finally, the bare feet. She was nude. No question about it, she was one of the most beautiful, sensual, erotic women I ever saw. In her mid-thirties, she was showing the classy detail and pampering of a well taken care of woman, and with just a hint of wear and tear she was truly gorgeous.

As she lay there, nude and face down, snoozing, she was truly mine. Her hair was sprayed about her head, with her arms outstretched, hands over her head. Her bare feet were resting on my pillows. I looked down those smooth, shapely big legs with her heels up and the bare soles flexed. Cupping a hand under the tops of her feet, I lifted them up until her legs were straight up, bare feet together and cupped with the heels and the balls of her feet touching, and the two big toes spread away from each other in a v-shape as the bare feet touched together.

I love how women's feet have a slight curve from the balls to the heels, so feminine. Her heels showed only the slightest hint of dryness, lightly flattened on the bottoms with little creases on the sides. Her smooth legs showed a subtle calf and tapered down to slender ankles with perfect Achilles heels. These two bare feet had a perfect deep arch, so soft in the soles with gentle creases. Her toes were perfectly shaped, and her two big toes especially so, showing a little bit of toenail past the tips. I held in my hand the most perfect, feminine bare feet I have ever seen. As I held them, I lowered my face and breathed in the scent of clean femininity and leather from those pumps. I pushed them further back toward her ass, and was rewarded with the most perfect toenails, polished a dark, glossy green, almost black. The toes were so perfect, and her toenails were pedicured expertly. No hair anywhere on her feet, toes, or legs. Not even stubble. Her two big toenails were long shaped, gently curved and tapered, grown out past the tips of the two big toes.

Holding this woman's bare feet up, in my hands, I felt like this was my crowning achievement. I pondered the meaning of it all over that most erotic of all things - a woman's gorgeous bare feet. I believe if you have a woman's feet, you have it all!