My father was doing roaring business selling oil seeds in Gulburga, before shifting the family to Mumbai after my only sister got married. Our new house in New Bombay was luxurious to say the least and my father was making more money, quicker than what he did in our hometown, thanks to his new passion in the stock market. My mother who used to be a timid housewife at Gulburga soon started changing herself to the surroundings of Mumbai and within a couple of years after reaching Mumbai, my mother looked like a typical Mumbai modern lady with her short hair and excessive cosmetics.
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She sat cross-legged on the ground with the large book in her lap, her palms up on either side. Her head tilted upwards toward the cloudy night, he watched in stunned silence as her chest rose and fell and the clouds parted to reveal the subtle light of the blood moon. As is typical of harvest time it was large and round tinted with the rusty color of the fallen leaves. She rose, letting the book fall to the grass, keeping her palms upwards she moved her arms up toward the glowing sphere above them. He watched intently as her lips moved, breathing the seductive whispers of the ancient art.
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Victoria didn't know why she bothered. If she had known, she wouldn't have spent so much time on her outfit.
She arrived at Simon's place a little after sunset, so she wasn't too worried the neighbors would spot her in her slutty clothes. But... just to be safe, she put on a long skirt and overcoat as camouflage. She used the key Simon gave her last night and stepped inside the duplex.
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I had seen him around the halls a few times, but he had only smiled weakly at me and glanced at the ground. For the longest time I didn't even know his name. I assumed he must be an adjunct professor at my prestigious graduate school; he dressed professional, and his silver hair was a clue to his age bracket.
For the life of me, I do not understand why he was so intriguing. He stood about six feet tall, and his body-type was that of a wrestler or rugby player;
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He was rude to me when I first saw him, which is one of the reasons I remembered him. The other was that he was drop-dead gorgeous.
This was in the souk (Arab market) in the Muslim Quarter of the Old City, one dull Saturday morning, and I was shopping for a Quran. Not some paperback English translation, but something really nice, an ornate Arabic copy I could display in my office at home.
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Ann and I were married for a little over 53 year. Actually, it was 53 years, one month and two days. For the first 40 plus years, we each had our own careers and friends, but we spent our spare time together. That union produced three Wonderful sons and six beautiful grand children. We kept very busy.
Ever since we both retired, we spent almost every hour of our life together. We had been High School sweethearts. She was the first girl I ever kissed, let alone had sex with.
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Rinsing the bubbles from my hair and turning off the steaming hot water, I step out of the shower into the chilly air of the bathroom. Towelling my body dry, I take extra time drying my sensitve nipples and running my hands over them, pinching them softly. I turn on the blow dryer, working my fingers through my tangled hair, working out the snarls and knots. I pick up my brush and begin to dry my hair in earnest when I think I hear a noise downstairs.
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This is the story of my first foot fetish experience, I hold nothing back and will try and embellish nothing. First a very little background, I am 21 years old, and a lover of female feet. I have been seeing the girl in the story, Christine, for about 2 years on and off. We shared everything. First as friends, then transcending that line and into our sexual desires. Before this we had not made love, our kisses and caresses were the slow, careful ones of a couple physically new to each other.
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It was a quiet afternoon at the office. My last appointment for the day had to cancel at the last minute, and the bosses were all at a convention out of town. Nothing was happening, and although it was a good time to catch up on paperwork, I was tired so I thought I'd get an early start on the weekend. I didn't expect my girlfriend, Paola, to be home when I got there, so I was surprised to hear the television when I walked through the door.
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Browsing around the adult store, I looked at everything as though I hadn't seen it all for the hundredth time. This was my favorite pastime whenever I was in the city and early for an appointment. I loved all the different sized dildos with their dazzling colors and features.
I picked one up and felt it, running my hand up and down the thick, veined trunk and feeling instantly excited.
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