I had been sitting there for some time just relaxing and de stressing near the fire after a very taxing week. Feeling the heat of the flames warm my skin I glance up as you walk into view. I vaguely recognize you as you apologize for wrecking my view, I refuse to accept your apology saying you are but adding to it. You then come and sit next to me and we begin to converse, our conversation continually being interrupted by others. But as if we were old friends our conversation picks up again where it left off and we continue to discover each other. The moving shadows of the flames reflecting of your stocking encased legs keep distracting me and I have to keep forcing my vision else where so as to keep on track with the conversation. I tease you about never having left Melbourne something I know I will regret later for I should not be disparaging a woman of such beauty. The conversation turns back again to my love of the female foot. Just one small aspect of my very intricately detailed life, of which in simple terms lays at the center a servants heart.
Such a humble piece of the human anatomy is the foot yet a vital one for our existence and one that I have had an affinity for since childhood. I confess this rather shyly still not feeling totally at ease and not wanting to break the mood. Our conversation digresses onto other things then you ask me if I'd like to give you a foot rub. I hope against hope that you aren't just teasing me and I manage to ask without stuttering and making a fool of myself if you are serious. You confer that you are and I watch in amazement as you swivel and place your left stocking clad foot in my lap. Fighting against every sinew in my body that is longing to have that foot against my face feeling your stockings rub against my face being allowed to kiss it and suck and lick your toes. With these thoughts running through my head I gently pick up your foot in my hand and gently starts massaging it. Knowing you've been wearing heels for the last two days and feeling jealous I softly ease my thumb into your arch massaging away your aches and pains sliding my thumb over the soft material of your stockings. You remark that you have a fetish for stockings and get them imported from Italy.
As if I've been slipped a truth serum I again find myself confessing to you that I have to agree with you that I too love stockings and agree that the best come from Italy. I am in complete unbelief how great this night has been. I felt special enough being invited knowing that not many do, and the mixture of the warm fire and friendly nature of everyone has been so relaxing and welcoming I would have been happy to leave without touching anyone or being touched, but you've just made this night that much more special again. Feeling your foot relax and not knowing how much longer I shall have the pleasure of being able to serve you this way I gingerly ask if I may kiss your foot before I start on the other one. You nod your consent as I gingerly lean over and softly press my lips against the top of your foot and my whole body sighs. I feel sad as you retract your foot from me but it is soon replaced by the other another sigh and I am happy again.
I repeat my ministrations to this foot as we continue to converse about what makes each other tick. I don't usually let men touch my feet I hear you say through the haze its as if I'm in a dream I think they're all bastards. I feel even more special and honored and privileged than what I already did with this new information and just wish I had a pair of feet half as delectable as yours connected to a woman a quarter as enchanting as you that I could come home to each night and ease her aches and pains away after a hard day. Knowing I probably don't have to ask again but something inside me just propels me too. May I kiss this foot too I ask meekly? With your renewed consent I lean over your foot softly kissing the ladder running for about two inches along the top of your foot. This time feeling a little more game I move to the toes kissing them as well and moving around to your sole I lay a few small kisses on you arch and ball. Burying my nose beneath your stocking encased toes I breathe in deeply slightly surprised that I detect no odor its at this moment I know that not only are these beautiful feet but well looked after even if you don't have time to enhance them with a coat of polish. Going as far as I feel I should I barely put the tip of your big toe in between lips and let it slide out again, wishing so much to kiss and suck and lick every single toe and even your whole foot as I envisage your whole foot in my mouth, I leave one last kiss as I know your wanting to leave. You whisper thank you as you do so and I cant believe you are thanking me I cannot express my thanks enough. As you glide away I close my eyes and melt back into the chair a smile on my face bigger than the Cheshire cats. I reminisce and smile even more dreaming about peacefully lying on the floor beneath you both of your feet on my face and feeling at home.
I fight against the sleep that wants to consume my whole being and gaze distractedly into the flames of the fire. Stretching my legs I place some more wood on the fire then go outside for some fresh air and to keep that fire going too. With the fire restocked I spot you in the spa with the other ladies and walk over to bid my farewells. Wishing I could just kiss your foot once last time especially now as its wet and naked underneath the water but feeling to shy with everyone else around I dare not. With a slight sadness in my heart knowing that we may never meet again I depart, knowing that my train will soon be pulling away from the station just as your foot did from my lap, which puts a smile on my face again knowing that for a few brief moments in time I really was living a fantasy.
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