Movie Theatre Foot Fetish Encounter
(Published on Monday, December 2, 2002)
This story was submitted anonymously.
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For you fans of greatfeet.com who love what I call naughty foot fetish fun, I hope that the following true story will keep your heart racing as it did mine when I had my first movie theatre foot fetish encounter.
I love going to the movies. It's especially rewarding when an attractive female happens to be showing off her feet by propping them atop of one of the theatre's seats where I can see her toes. It's even better when they hang their legs over a seat and dangle their bare feet.
I'm sure that most women who do this are simply relaxing themselves, but once in a while, if I'm lucky, I'll come across a female who enjoys showing off her feet. I know that having a foot fetish is pretty much a male fetish, as are most sexual fetishes, but I also know from experience that many women definitely appreciate attention given to their feet.
The first time that I ever had a real foot fetish encounter with a woman in a theatre was when I was just about to turn 32 years old. I've had plenty of foot fetish fun before and since then of course, but that was my first time in a movie theatre. It's not like you can just go up and start fondling a strange woman's feet in public. It would be illegal to do that, plus it would be an unacceptably weird thing to do to some stranger. The idea of playing with some woman's feet in a public theatre, naturally for someone with a foot fetish, is pretty erotic, but let's face it, how often does this kind of opportunity lend itself to the point of being acceptable? So, as it were, I simply looked and enjoyed what I saw when a pretty woman's foot presented itself.
The theatre I mentioned had a double feature playing on that day. One of the movies playing was Planes, Trains & Automobiles starring John Candy and Steve Martin. I remember it well because of what happened. The other movie playing was one that I've long ago forgotten. The year was 1987. Like I usually did back then, I went to a matinee. Tickets are less expensive and theatres aren't as crowded, so it's more likely that a woman will be positioning her legs and feet over one of the theatre's seats.
On that particular day, the theatre wasn't busy at all. I watched Planes, Trains & Automobiles and then the other movie. When the other movie had finished, since I was in no hurry to go anywhere, so I sat a while to collect my thoughts. Quite a few people strolled in to find seats, but the theatre still had a lot of room. People found choice seats with nobody sitting in front of them. In the row immediately behind me, and to my right, a group of college students sat down to claim their seats. It looked like a double date. While the girls sat down, the guys went to get popcorn and drinks. Then one of the girls got up to go to the bathroom, leaving the other girl by herself.
To my delight and surprise, a pair of bare feet suddenly appeared to my right two seats away as the girl behind me positioned her legs over the seat. I wasn't prepared to see such beautiful feet just out of reach to my side, and in full view, so I inadvertently looked over my shoulder and right into her face. She must have thought that I was pissed off about having her legs and feet hanging over the seat, so she quickly drew them back over onto her side and said, "Sorry."
"Oh, please," I told her, "you're more than welcome to put your feet over the seat."
"Are you sure?" She asked me rather sheepishly. "I don't want to offend you."
"No, it's perfectly fine," I assured her. "Besides, you have great feet."
"Do you really think so?" She asked.
"Absolutely!" I told her. "They are perfect." And they were. I estimated her feet to be about a size 8 1/2. She had wonderfully high arches. Her toes were expertly pedicured, and she was wearing one of my favorite colors of toenail polish, candy apple red.
"Thank you," she said with a bit of red flushed across her cheeks. "I do my best to keep them in good shape."
"Well, they are in great shape," I told her. Then, without really thinking, I went on to say, "In fact, they are easily the best pair of feet I've seen in a long time, and I've seen a lot of feet."
"Thank you," she said, this time a little more relaxed. "Are you a foot doctor?"
"No, not at all. I mean, I do reflexology for a lot of my friends, but I'm not a podiatrist," I told her.
"Reflexolgy?" She asked. "Isn't that like hitting pressure points in your foot?" she asked again.
"Exactly, and in your hands, too." I explained. Then again without really thinking, I said, "So please feel free to relax and put your feet over the seat. I might even do some reflexology for you if you'd like."
"I'd love that," she said with a sincerity in her voice sounding like she really meant it, "but I'm afraid my boyfriend would get jealous."
"I understand," I said to her. "Oh, well, I guess he'll just have to do it for you himself."
With a little laugh in her voice, she replied, "Yeah, as if he'd ever do that for me."
"You mean he never gives you foot massages?" I asked.
"Only when I ask," she answered. Then she added, "And it's only for a minute or two."
It was then that I noticed the other girl coming down with their dates and a bunch of snacks. "Whoops. I see that your friends are coming back. I don't want to get you into trouble with your boyfriend, so we never had this conversation, okay?" I gave her a quick smile and added, "But if you want that foot massage ..."
My voice trailed off as she interrupted me and said, "Thanks for the offer. I wish that I could, but, well, you know how it is."
Just as I was turning around to face the front of the theatre, I said to her, "It's cool. No problem."
I had of course already seen Planes, Trains & Automobiles, but I decided to stay and watch it again on the off-chance that this beautiful, young girl would dare to be bold and show off her feet to me. I knew that she couldn't offer her feet to me, even if she wanted to, but I was willing just to have a few more glimpses of her perfect feet and leave it at that, even if nothing else happened.
As the other girl and the guys settled down into their seats, I got up the nerve to move one seat over to my right. On the off-chance that her feet would find themselves in the same row of seats where I was sitting, I wanted to be closer than an arm's distance, even though I had resolved myself to the realization that I would have to keep my hands to myself.
I barely even looked behnd me when I moved, and could only see these four college students with my peripheral vision. To my right about seven seats away there was a young couple in my row, and then a single person two seats to the right of them. To my left there was an elderly man in my row, and there were about six seats that were empty between us. We were the only people in this row in the center of the theatre. There were others seats at the sides of the theatre with an aisle separating them from the center rows. The seat directly behind me, though staggered slightly to the left, was empty. The boyfriend of the girl whom I talked to was sitting next to the empty seat, so he was sitting behind me slightly to my right. She was next to him, the other girl was next to her, and the other girl's date was in the next seat over.
I didn't want them to change seats after I moved over that one seat next to me, so I crouched as low as I could. The guy behind me, with his seat staggered to the left of mine, would have been able to see the movie over my left shoulder easily enough even with me sitting up, but with me slouching down as I was, he would have had a perfectly unobstructed view. As I was slouched, my head was somewhat turned to my right ever so slightly, and at least with my peripheral vision I could see the top part of the seat next to me.
Out of fear of disturbing a setting that had happily afforded me a possibly erotic scenario, I nervously waited for the movie to start. I could hear the girls laughing a little bit together, and then I could hear what sounded like a small, but definite argument between the girl I had been talking to and her boyfriend. I knew it was her because I recognized her voice, plus the argument they were having was about this girl's frustrations about her boyfriend's lack of attention to her feet.
I could hear him say, "Oh, come on now. I give you plenty of attention."
"I'm only asking for a nice foot massage," she said to him in a frustratingly dissatisfied voice. I couldn't make out what he said to her next, but I could hear her hushed whisper say to him, "Stop!" And then she mumbled a few more words until I heard her say, "Oh, forget about it."
"Fine. Be that way," I heard him answer back.
As the movie theatre darkened and the opening scene and credits started to roll, my heart skipped a beat when I became aware of this girl's feet on top of the seat next to me. The movie theatre was pretty dark, so I couldn't really make out any details, but I could see a glistening shine reflecting off of her expertly polished toenails as she scrunched her toes down against the top of the seat. When her toes pushed farther atop of the seat and slightly hung over to the other side, I was tempted to reach up and touch the pads of her toes. But I was just too nervous at that point to do it. In anticipation of some possible foot play, and to hide my attempts, I packed my leather jacket to the right side of me so that this girl's boyfriend behind me wouldn't be able to see in between the seats.
After a minute or two, especially after seeing that this girl pushed her feet even further past the top of the seat so that the pads of her toes and the top part of her soles were now hanging naked right next to me, I slowly and discreetly inched my right arm up so that my fingers would only be an inch or two away from her feet. I was afraid to look over more than I was already looking, so I pretty much just relied on my peripheral vision to know what was going on. I was nervous about reaching up in an attempt to find her left foot, only to miss it and reach right up over the top of the seat so that what I was attempting to do would become too obvious.
I knew that this movie was only slightly over an hour and a half, so I didn't want to waste any time if in fact my fantasy of playing with some pretty woman's feet in a movie theatre was to come true. By the time that I figured out exactly where her overhanging toes were in relation to where I was sitting, and at what position my arm was as I had inched it up the seat to her feet, the time seemed like hours, when in reality it was only a few short minutes.
Before I could reach her feet, I realized that I had just barely touched the metal trim at the top of the seat. I knew that most of this trim was showing on the backside of this row of seats because of the way that these seats were designed, so I knew that I could be discovered if I wasn't careful. I pulled back and tried not to go beyond the curve of the seat. If I could keep my fingers below that curve, I'd be able to hide what I was doing.
At one point I could feel that I was very close to touching her feet, as I could practically feel the magnetic aura of her feet, and I could also feel a slight coldness because, as it turned out, her feet were somewhat cold at the touch. I had actually touched the top part of her sole, just below her toe pads, before I realized where my fingers were. Just because it was easier for me to do it, I used the top pad of my right middle finger to guide my way to her feet.
After realizing that I had actually touched the top part of her right sole, I kind of kept a slight pressure against her sole, ever so slightly, just to see if she would notice. I didn't know how sensitive her feet were, so I wanted to be careful. I definitely wanted to have her know what I was doing, of course, but I also didn't want to startle her in such a way that she'd inadvertently scream outloud. After a few more seconds, I very gently and slowly drew my right middle finger along the top pad of her left sole. When the toes of her left foot suddenly scrunched up and pointed downwards just a bit to probably confirm that my finger was brushing up against her sole, I panicked and quickly pulled my right arm down and away.
Within seconds, though, I reached up again, knowing my way around by feel much better this time, and touched the top sole of her left foot. This time, perhaps anticipating my move, her toes pressed down and definitely confirmed that my finger had been touching her foot. Perhaps out of panic or disgust, she very quickly removed her feet from the top of the seat. To my embarrassment, I suddenly regretted what I had done, and hoped that I hadn't offended her. I had momentary visions of being carted away in handcuffs by the police in front of the theatre's patrons, and I was screaming at myself in deafening silence at my stupidity for misinterpreting this young woman's conversation with me. "How can I have been so stupid and irresponsible?" I thought to myself.
For the next few minutes I agonized over what I had done. I was about to shrivel myself into a two-inch high dweeb, and crawl on my belly out of the theatre for the lowlife pervert that I had become when she suddenly placed her feet back atop the seat. This time she inched her legs over until both of her feet were hanging down a few inches down past the seat's back on the side that I was sitting. I was pretty confused, but I was also awfully excited by the possibilities, so I started to once again to trace my fingers along the sole of her left foot.
This time it was clear that she was allowing me play with her feet. With a great deal of satisfaction, I blindly explored every inch of each of her soles. The soles of her feet were exceptionally soft. There was a slight scent of perfume, as if she had bathed her feet in fine bath oils for hours. The smell of her soft, sexy feet, along with the pleasures I was getting from fondling her feet, almost made me forget where I was. I had to constantly remind myself that I was in a public theatre and I needed to be discreet about what I was doing.
I was somewhat nervous because her feet were dangling only an inch or two from the top part of the seat in the row I was sitting, which made me think that it was possible for her boyfriend and the other two in their group to see at least a little bit of what I was doing. I couldn't know for sure, but I could have sworn that I heard one of the guys, probably her boyfriend, ask, "Is he massaging your feet?"
"Yes, he is," I thought I heard her reply back. But that part of the conversation may have never existed and only been a part of my imagination. Then again, maybe she was playing a little game with him. I had no idea and I wasn't about to try to figure it out then anyway, as I was having a blast. Still, I would occasionally pull down on her heels every so slightly so that I could get her feet lower onto my side of the seat. At this point I was still using just my right hand and fingers. I wanted to use both of my hands, but I deemed it as being too risky.
Then, just as suddenly as she had removed her feet from the top of the seat in the first place, and then back again, she removed her feet to her side once again. In less than a minute, however, she once again plopped her legs back over the seat, but this time her feet were much lower and clearly out of anyone's site. Her legs were hanging over the seat at her knees. Never before had I ever been so grateful that this theatre's rows of seats were so close together. I'm a pretty tall guy, so I always hated rows of seats that were too close together. I would always have to scrunch my knees into the seat in front of me, or I'd have to sit on an aisle seat. In this case I didn't mind at all, for it provided the opportunity for this young college student to easily position her legs and feet over the theatre's seat.
The only negative thing from this unexpected move by her was that the seat next to me was up because it was empty, which caused her feet to rest on the top side of the seat's end. I gently remedied the situation by plopping the seat down and keeping it down by wedging my right leg up against it.
This time I took special care in really giving her a good foot massage, and I used both of my hands. I kneaded each of her feet, one at a time, until every inch of her feet and toes had been very throughly massaged. It was fairly easy to do because she had positioned her legs in such a way over the seat that her feet were slightly pointing in my direction. Her left foot was almost in my lap and often brushed against my right leg. Every time that I worked on her right foot, the sole of her left foot slowly brushed along the top of my right leg and up along my right arm.
I could actually see just how perfect her feet really were even though the theatre was pretty dark most of the time. Occasionally a scene would flash across the screen that lit up the theatre, and in those times I would be able to get a pretty clear view. I was dying to take a good look at her soles, but that wasn't really possible. Of course her wonderfully sexy arches revealed a teasing look at her nicely wrinkled soles. Every texture of each of her feet was a foot fetish lover's dream come true.
I was pleasantly surprised that every inch of her feet were perfectly cared for and in great shape. There wasn't a single flaw. Normally I don't really look for flaws, but in this case I was so struck by how perfect this young college girl's feet were, that I actually hunted for some kind of defect. I don't know why I did that, but I did. I found nothing but perfection.
I loved how she enjoyed it when I tickled her feet a little. I didn't tickle her feet too hard, but hard enough that she would squirm ever so slightly when I would hold onto her heels with one hand and tickle her soles and toes with the fingers of my other hand. Between massaging her feet and tickling them, she kept her feet there the entire time of the movie. It was great.
For me the movie didn't last long enough. It was over far too soon. As the end credits rolled, I reached for one of my business cards, though I remained still and didn't even look back behind me. I noticed that the other girl and the two guys had gotten up and were heading to the aisle to the right of me. I didn't even know the name of the girl whom I had spoken to, but she touched my shoulder while the others were facing away, and she leaned in to tell me, "Thanks."
"It was my pleasure," I said to her. Before her friends could turn back to look our way, I added, "Here is my card. Please don't feel obligated to call, but if you ever feel like an erotic foot massage, just let me know anytime."
"Thanks," she answered back. "Hmmm, an erotic foot massage, huh? I will."
I can't remember for sure, but it seems that once she reached her friends, her boyfriend said something to her and it looked as if she handed him my business card. My memory is foggy about that detail. The only think that I know for certain is that I never heard from that young college girl again. I thought about her for a long time after that, and I obviously still think of her from time to time to this day.
I wonder what she is doing? Whatever it is that she is doing, I hope that she is having a lot of foot fetish fun!
Since that time I've had other similar theatre encounters, but none that I remember so fondly.
This story was submitted anonymously.
For those of you who enjoy this kind of kink,
maybe you'll want
to add your comments in this topic of our foot fetish chat forum.
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