Here's my adaptation of a story I once read :

She is asleep on the sofa. The living room is large, with high ceilings and a picture window on one side overlooking the park. There is no furniture, apart from the sofa and a small desk; just books piled up in the corners. A small electric heater warms the room as snowflakes lightly dance on the window pane.

The camera eye pans 360 degrees to reveal this: He is awake in the middle of the floor surrounded by papers, open books and file folders. He watches her asleep. Empty wine bottles litter the floor. Her wine glass is knocked over drunkenly by her unsteady hand. His wine glass is in his hand as he takes a brief sip.

With a close-up of his eyes, we see him watching over the rim of his wine glass. He and she have been working late, discussing what should be done with the project at hand. They have discussed many alternatives of organization and presentation, and perhaps even come to a few conclusions. It is tiring work, compounded with the wine, and she is exhausted.

She is wearing a big sweatshirt and sweatpants and is barefoot, with her feet up on the arm of the sofa. He is in jeans and a thick sweater, white sport socks, and is sitting in middle of the floor He looks at his wristwatch and sees that it is late. He is also tired. But the sight of her bare feet is more intoxicating than the wine they'd been drinking. Quietly, he stands.

Moving with the definite assurance of obsession, he approaches her. Her feet are small, wide, and slightly pudgy with a high arch and good definition in the sole. He had seen her touch her own feet earlier and by the ease of the flesh could tell that her feet were soft, too. He's been sitting in various positions all night trying to hide the growing lump in his pants.

To sneak a purloined kiss of an unknowing foot is a awkward situation. The potential for embarrassment, of revealing such a less-than-mainstream fetish exposes more about oneself than should be revealed. This is what he thinks. It is late enough that he can dry kiss her big toe, and should she wake up suddenly he can give the excuse of being about to leave and didn't want to disappear without saying goodbye.

How heavy a sleeper is she? He bends over her feet, and quietly inhales the salty popcorny smell which brings saliva to his mouth. And places a single dry kiss to the pad of her big toe. Nothing. No movement from her. He kisses her toe again. Nothing. As dryly as possible, he licks her big toe. Small movement from her. He stands upright, about to make a quick exit. Nothing.

He bends over and inhales deeply the scent of her feet again. He draws his tongue across the ball of her foot, under her toes, and a kiss in the arch. She moves. Turning over onto her face and stomach. Her feet are now soles up, toes hanging down. He positions himself underneath her toes, and delicately sucks each one. Tasting their dried sweatiness each in turn. She moves, back onto her back, but does not awaken.

He knows he is pushing his luck, but must continue, compelled to continue. His erection is actually painful. Her feet back pointing up, he gently draws his cheek across her soles. He then notices that her hands are deep down her track pants and that she is masturbating silently in her sleep. He smiles and gently licks under her toes.

"What?" She says, awaking very suddenly, and a bit confused. She sees her hand down her pants and realizes what has happened. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I'm really embarrassed. I don't know what you must think of me."

He thinks she doesn't know what he thinks of her? "Hey." He says, trying to be as cool as possible, "Masturbation is natural. Not something to be embarrassed about."

"It's still embarrassing." She says with a red face.

"Actually, I was in the process of leaving." He tells her.

He bends over her foot and is about to give it a goodbye peck, when she raises her other foot and snuggles it into his crotch. "That felt nice." He holds one of her feet, while the other is rubbing his crotch, and gently licks her sole. She is blushing, still glowing a bit red, puts her hand down her pants and continues her clitoral self-stimulation.

Slowly. Methodically. He takes each toe into his mouth and gently sucks them in turn. Her mouth is smiling, and now a grimace, and now she cums, with a throaty gasp and her mouth open wide. Her eyes widen in pleasure. Her feet point into a stretch, as far as they can, and he licks her soles wetly. She squirms in her wet pantied pleasure. He licks his saliva off her foot.

"Hmmm." She says quietly.

Not wanting to overstay his welcome, he says, "I should be going. It's late."

"Hmmm. Do you have to?" Is her reply.

"Yeah. I think I should. We should probably keep things ... you know ..." He's not quite able to quite finish his sentence.

Interrupting him, she finishes it for him. "From getting too serious.... probably right."

With all sincerity, he tells her, "Believe me, I'm going straight home to jerk off for a week."

She laughs. He gives both feet one last semi-dry lick, and is out the door. The camera follows him out into the wintry night.