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I Want Holly

Category: Fetish
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Not long after graduating from college with my bachelors, I moved into a house with some of my frat brothers for about two years. I was lucky enough to find a great job that I knew from the start would lead to bigger things if I worked hard enough. The hours were limited, however, so I found myself with more free time on my hands than I wished for.

For nearly a year I found myself either working hard or hardly working. That is, until we got a new neighbor that changed my life.

Her name was Holly and she was a single mother of a 7 year old boy. She and her son

moved in to small single story house right next to mine. I first got to meet them the day after and discovered that not only was Holly nice and charming, but easily the most beautiful woman I had ever met.

Holly was a short caucasian lady, only standing at about 5 feet tall, give or take an inch. Not only that, but she had a petite, fit figure that made her look tiny next to me at 6 feet tall and slightly muscular. She had her short blonde hair layered to salon perfection, hooded eyelids under her thin brows, and beautiful smile to cap it off. It was like she was out of some kind of magazine.

We immediately became friendly and got to know each other quickly. I soon learned that she had divorced her workaholic husband and was starting a new life with her only son Connor. The boy was shy around me at first, but soon began to like me and talk to me about all the things he liked to do.

“He usually doesn’t warm up to people so quickly,” Holly explained to me, apparently impressed.

After getting settled in her new home, Holly started working as a head nurse at a local clinic. She appeared to have no problem supporting her son, the house and herself with her income. From the get go I took every opportunity I could to talk with her. My roommates soon notice and began to tease me.

“Going for the MILFs are you Adam?” one had joked..

Personally, I never liked the word and felt it was very disrespectful. However, a part of me couldn’t deny that I found Holly very attractive. She was 32 at the time and I was 23. I wondered how weird it would be to date someone that much older than myself, especially since it seemed the oldest one in a relationship was typically the man. Hell, even my own dad is three years older than my mom. The idea of dating Holly never left my mind, but I felt I could not begin to voice my thoughts.

Holly’s job wasn’t like mine. It required her to work six days a week for about 9 hours at the least. She told she felt like her ex-husband, spending too much time and work and not enough with her son. Since she was working after school hours were over, Holly hired a female sitter to watch over her son five days a week. The sitter, a 20 year old goth chick, hardly seemed like a good fit for Connor, but perhaps his mom did not have the time to look around for a better one.

Three weeks passed by and my normal routine hardly changed, other than when I had a chance to chat with Holly or hang out with Connor a bit.

“She doesn’t want to ever play with me,” Connor said concerning his sitter. “All she does is text on her phone, watches TV or listens to loud music.”

In all honesty, I began to feel bad for the kid. Coming home to a girl that look liked Ozzy Osbourne nearly every day was hardly enjoyable.

Connor didn’t have to suffer through that though for too long. The night after talking with Connor I saw two cop car in front of their house and automatically assumed the worse. I saw Holly talking with an officer, unhurt but flustered. As I approached her, she finished talking with the officer, who then reassured her of something and walked back to his parked car.

“What’s going on?” I asked in a concerned voice, as I reached her.

Holly was on the verge of some kind of breakdown, but managed to get it out first. “I came home early from work and found the sitter shooting up in my bathroom.” Her voice was shaky, but she continued. “I called the police, but she ran off. They are looking for her before she gets herself killed.”

The young woman began to sob, and I immediately took her in my arms to calm her. She felt small in my arms, but it felt like she almost belonged there. Sobbing into my shoulder, she cried for about a minute or so. I just let her get it off her chest. The waterworks finally stopped and she thanked me for comforting her.

“I’m not sure what I’ll do,” she said with a worried tone. “I work tomorrow and I need someone to look after Connor.”

Without a second to deliberate, I jumped on the wagon. “How about I watch him tomorrow? I’m off from work actually.”

Right away, Holly’s face turned from deep concern to a beaming smile. “Would you Adam?! Oh thank you thank you! That would be great!”

So I watched Connor the next day when he got off the school bus around 3:30 p.m. that day. He already knew that I was watching him, so he had spent his entire day planning our time together. We played catch in the backyard, I made him a bomb grilled cheese for dinner (about the only food I’m good at making), and we watched Cars on the big screen in the living room for the rest of his night. After a couple of protests begging for more time to play with me, I finally got him to bed and made him promise to go to sleep if I did this again soon.

When I felt sure that he was staying in his room, I returned to living room and turned on some TV, keeping the volume way down so I could keep an ear out for Connor. As an hour went by I didn’t hear a peep from the little rascal. I went to his room to check on him and was pleased to seem him sound asleep. Again, I went back to living room and watched the beginning of Letterman. It was nothing but a crappy rerun, an episode I had already seen. I didn’t change the channel, but rather went into deep thought about Holly. My feelings for her hadn’t changed in the past few weeks, yet I felt like I could do nothing about them. I had admittedly tried masturbating to the thought of her, but it never could get the right image in my head. I would feel slightly guilty and stop or just pull up a quick porno to get my mind on something else.

And there I was, watching her kid in her own house, beginning to feel very bored. Just as I was about to fall victim to my boredom, I looked over at the front entrance to her house. There lay a red rug in the entryway and a closed closet next to it. The rug was for shoes, and currently only Connor and I had our shoes on it. In that closet, however, there had to be plenty of Holly’s shoes. The thought began to interest me, and slowly I walked over to the closet to check it out for myself.

Since my early teenage years I’ve had a minor foot and shoe fetish. Getting through high school was only that much tougher in early fall/late spring when all the girls would wear cute open toed shoes and show off their feet in earnest. In recent years, my interest had somewhat abated. College was a whole new ball game for me, and I tried my hardest to keep my creepy desires in check. The girls that I had dated while studying at the university had terrible looking feet. I was never a fan of long, narrow feet with slight hammer toe like those girls. They didn’t arouse me in that way in the slightest. Holly, however, unknowingly introduced me to those desires again.

Since I first began to see her, I took note of her shoes and feet. As a nurse, she was required to wear comfy white tennis shoes to work as part of their dress code. Many times I saw her was when she was heading off to work. Only on a two seperate occasions did I get a glimpse of her feet.

I had reached the closet door and quickly opened it, only to find myself frowning from the contents. A few light jackets were hung up neatly, a broom and dustpan in the corner, and a single pair of white Nike sneakers were all that were inside. I picked up the sneakers and gave them a few sniffs. To my disappointment, the shoes seemed to be brand new and smelled like a Walmart.

“Must be backup shoes or something,” I thought to myself as I put the useless shoes down.

I had seen Holly wear other types of shoes before, so I knew they had to be somewhere. On those two occasions I had seen her wear a simple pair of black flats and than some high heels when she was going out with some coworkers. She had even joked that she loved high heels because it was the only way she felt tall. I began to wonder where Holly would keep all of her shoes and possibly her work socks as well.

It didn’t take me long to consider checking the laundry room, and I went to the other side of the house to see. Again, I found myself disappointed as there was no laundry even in the room at the time. The only clothing was a rather skimpy black dress hanging up to dry. I began to picture Holly in it, complete with a nice pair of sexy stiletto heels.

The thought only made me want to look more for her shoes. I checked my watch for the time. 10:41 p.m. Holly promised to be home at the latest by 11:30 p.m. This gave me a limited window to look around the house. It then hit me, like running into a brick wall; her bedroom.

As I walked into Holly’s bedroom only a minute later, the first thing I noticed was how large the bed was. It was a queen size bed that two people could easily share. Someone as small as Holly had more mattress than she could ever need. She probably never had to worry about finding a cool, comfy spot after a long day working. My eye quickly moved on and scaled the dark room, lit only by the moonlight from the nearby window to right of the bed. A dresser and large mirror on top stood on left in the room. Everything seemed tidy and neat. On top of that, the dominant color of the master bedroom was a light pink color. Not the “wow that’s a lot of pink” pink, but a more neutral pink color that reflected a more mature taste. I finally spotted another closed closet beside the dresser.

“Bingo!” I thought to myself, and swiftly but quietly approached the closet.

The sliding door made hardly a sound and I pushed it open to reveal one side of the closet. Mostly casual outfits, a few hats and jeans galore. I closed that side and then went for the next side, for sure that her shoes awaited me there. Lo and behold, a rack of carefully place shoes was right there on the carpeted floor. An array of different kinds of shoes greeted my eyes; sneakers, flips flops, flats, a single pair converses, wedges and a several pairs of heels were stacked neatly by type. Holly’s collection was small and simple, but she still seemed to have great taste in footwear.

Now another question began to form in my mind; which pair would be the smelliest? Odor was important to my fetish, hence my disinterest in the first pair of fresh shoes I had found in the front closet. I began by carefully picking out the blue converses out of the bottom half of the rack. The shoes looked worn in, but as I took a whiff I was not greeted by any discernible smell. It simply smelled like plain shoes. Disappointed again, I put them back in they way I found them.

I tried the flip flops next, although I felt I knew they too would be disappointing. Foot imprints were on most of them, but any smell flip flops get are usually gone in a few hours after they are taken off. The wedges were next on my menu. Holly seemed to only have two pairs right now; a white pair and a black pair both with the usual brown rubber heel. I inserted my eager nose into both and found only a slightly smell from the white pair. She must have wore it recently, but not for horribly long it seemed. The faint odor was a pleasant mixture of sweat, lotion and shoe sole. Still, it wasn’t the stink I craved.

The flats seemed promising, so I tried the pair I’d seen her wear previously. They were simple black flats with a small bow on them. Despite my fetish, I’ve never bother with brand names and such. All I cared about was the smell, which the flat’s mirrored the white wedge’s. The three other pairs of flats smelled, funny enough, flat.

Two types of shoes remained; the heels and sneakers, which were the most likely to smell. Again, I went for a pair that I recognized. They were four inch heels with sexy straps across it. I tried sniffing down the sole of the heels. No distinct smell hit me. I didn’t bother trying the other heels I saw.

It was my last chance. She had only two pairs of sneakers in the closet. One was a running pair and the other was another pair of white sneakers. Both looked promising, but I wasn’t getting my hopes up. I tried the white shoes first with a long, hard sniff. I was finally greeted with a decent stench. Those shoes seemed to be a bit more sweaty, and the lotion I had sensed from the white wedges didn’t hit me. My nose remained glue to the inside of the shoe for good two minutes before I decided to move on to the running shoes.

These shoes looked older, but taken well care of and possibly expensive on purchase. A good pair of running shoes that Holly obviously loved. They were Nikes again, black with the logo in red. Definitely quality shoes for someone that I had noticed go on regular runs since she moved here.

Thinking about this made my appetite grow, and I plunged my nose into the opening. What greeted me could be described as heaven on Earth for the common foot fetishist. Those shoes reeked of sweaty feet and dirty socks. I continued attacking the inside with sniff after sniff. I began to imagine the hot little size 5 peds that had previously occupied them. From my occasional glances, I noticed that Holly kept good care of her feet and seemed to favor black polish on her tiny toes.

As I continued smelling, I felt myself getting hard as a rock. I unzipped my pants and began to stroke my hard on with a free hand, while holding the shoes in the other hand. I began to stick my tongue inside and tasted the saltiness accumulated from all the sweat. My hand was going to town on my hard on, inspired by failed fantasies of Holly for the last few weeks. Though this was not Holly’s own foot per say, it was a welcomed alternative.

Speaking of alternative, another one sprung in my head. A laundry basket stood next to the shoe rack. I put the shoes down and went through the dirty clothes in search of socks. They happened to be in on the top half and I delightfully began to smell them as well. The plain white socks smelled fresh as well, prompting me to jack off even faster. I soon began to fill my balls swell with cum. Panic came over me as I realized I had nowhere to cum. As swiftly as possible, I ran to the bedroom private bathroom and open the lid. I made it in the nick of time, and shot my load safely into the toilet bowl. My body started to relax. When I finished, I looked again at my watch. It was now 10:52 p.m.

“That didn’t take me long,” I thought. Despite still having enough time, I decided not to risk it any further. I flushed the toilet and then went back to the closet to put the socks and shoes back as I had found them.

About a half hour later, Holly pulled in the driveway. When got inside I was sitting comfortably on her couch with the TV on, acting like nothing had ever happened.

“How was he?” she asked, seemingly tired from her long work day.

“He was great, no problem whatsoever,” I told her honestly. “He wants me to do it again sometime soon.”

Holly seemed glad about the report, and gave me one of her pleasant smiles. “I’m so happy to hear that,” she said. “He never liked the sitter. I think having a guy watch him made him feel comfortable.”

“Which is why I’d like to help you with that,” I told her. “I have my days off and I’m off at 4 most days.”

“Oh Adam, I couldn’t ask you do to that!” Holly replied. “You must have plenty on your plate already.”

I shook my head. “Honestly, I really haven’t be able to find anything to pass my free time. I’ve earned his trust, so why not?”

Holly looked torn, but she only deliberated for about thirty seconds or so. “Ok, but I insist that I pay you the same as the last sitter.”

“Ok deal,” I brought out my hand and shook Holly’s small hand. We said our goodnights and I left with the biggest grin ever. I knew I would be the beginning of something great, but I had no idea just how crazy things were going to get.

For the next three and a half months I watched Connor at his house 4 days a week. He quickly began to see me as a brother figure, and would glow each time I walked in the door to watch him. I enjoyed my time with him, not having any younger siblings of my own to play with like this. Because he liked me so much, he rarely misbehaved and would do as I told him. Connor even began to do house chores his mom left him when I stayed with him.

But Connor was not the only part about this sitting job I loved. Many times I watched him, I would have to stay well past when he fell asleep. That gave me plenty of opportunities to smell Holly’s shoes. It became quite the ritual for me. After I was sure that Connor was asleep, I would sneak into the room and begin smelling her shoes. Most times she had some stinky socks as well. I came load after load over that period, always making sure to leave no evidence of my exploits for Holly. I even stopped myself from licking the shoe soles, just as an extra precaution. New shoes began to pop up and some pairs began to take on odors. I felt like I could this forever. However, fall and the colder months came and with that the hot sweat. Less and less, Holly would go on her runs. By the time December rolled in, her shoes lost most of their stench and I began to have problems getting off from them, even her socks.

During all of this, Holly and I also became closer. She trusted me more and more and even began to talk about more personal stuff with me. I learned that her husband was a well respected surgeon and spent a lot of time at work. They had been happy together at first, but soon found themselves concentrating on their careers rather than their marriage. Holly had spent the most time with her son, calling in numerous times to take care of Connor while her husband worked. The last straw came when she learned that he was seeing another woman behind her back. Holly filed divorce and was given custody of Connor, with her husband getting visitation rights.

As we began to get closer, I started to wonder if indulging my fetish like this was right. My feelings for Holly still continued to grow, emotionally and sexually. I believe Holly began to notice too. However, she didn’t make any moves until one day after work.

It was December 23rd, and I had put Connor to bed three hours ago. Holly was running late tonight, but it didn’t matter to me. Die Hard was on, so I was content to just watch TV. The idea of jacking off to Holly’s shoes and socks didn’t really appeal to me at the time. I was tired of doing it.

I soon heard her pull into the driveway. It was snowing that night, so there was a fresh powder on the ground that I could hear the tires roll over. A minute later, Holly walked in and greeted me.

“Sorry I’m late Adam, lots of paperwork to do before my leave,” she explained. Holly was taking work off until the beginning of January.

“No problem, just hoping you were safe driving out there,” I replied, giving her a reassuring smile.

She returned the smile. “Oh no, the snow isn’t bad yet. Very beautiful right now.” Holly took over her coat and shoes and put them in her closet. I noticed her wearing bright red Christmas socks.

“Do you like them?”

I looked up. “Excuse me?”

“My socks,” Holly continued. “I see you checking out my new socks. Do you like them?”

I blushed slightly at being caught. “Yes, they are really cute.”

“I’ve been getting compliments about them all day,” she replied. “I thought they might be just a little bit dorky.”

“Oh no no, they aren’t dorky,” I reassured her. “When did you get them?”

“I think I got them last year as a present,” she said. “I guess I like them, but they make my feet so sweaty.”

Holly removed her socks and revealed her dainty little feet. Indeed, they glistened with hot sweat. They were recently done it seemed, with a pleasant french pedi. “I’ve been on my feet all day too. I could go for a nice massage right about now.”

I realized that this could be a great opportunity to get to know her feet intimately. “Well why don’t you take a seat a let me help you with that?”

She gave me a funny look. “Oh Adam, you don’t want to rub my gross feet do you?”

I gave her a little laugh. “Don’t worry yourself Holly. You’ve had a long day. Just let someone take care of you for once.”

Another one of her trademark smiles greeted me. “Adam, you are seriously the sweetest man I’ve ever met. Here, let me get a drink.” Holly went to the kitchen and soon came back out with a tall glass of pinot noir. She sat down on the couch with me and place her feet on my lap. “My toes are killing me the most.”

“Then let’s start there,” I said, talking her cute little digits into my hands and pulling on them gently to relieve the pressure.

Honestly, I had no idea what I was doing. I had never massaged a foot before, so I was going off what I had seen and heard about rubbing feet. Whatever I was doing, at least Holly seemingly enjoyed it. She began to close her eyes and relax herself on the couch. From the get go, I noticed that Holly’s feet reeked. A smell of sweat permeated the room. Though I was quite familiar with Holly’s foot smell, this stench was stronger and more arousing than any of her shoes. My mouth began to water, as if her feet were a big juicy steak. I wanted to suck on these toes badly.

“Sorry if my feet smell bad,” Holly said, still relaxed and with her eyes closed. “I hope it doesn’t bother you too much. Everyone tells me I have foot odor problems.”

“Oh no!” I exclaimed. “It’s not bad at all. I think your feet are just fine.”

She giggled. “Fine? That’s the last word anyone uses for my feet. Adam, you seriously are the sweetest guy I know.”

Her compliment made me smile. “Just trying to make you feel good, that’s all.”

I restrained myself for what seemed like hours, but was actually minutes, as I massaged her feet. Holly then sat up and looked at me, apparently satisfied with my job.

“Thank you Adam,” she said, her face bright red. “I have no idea what I would do without you.”

“Give yourself some credit Holly,” I replied. “You are a single mom taking care of your kid and working to pay for you both. I couldn’t do that.”

“No, that’s not exactly what I mean,” she continued in a shaky voice, blushing even deeper now.

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused at the sudden change of behavior in her. Normally, Holly was composed and glowing. Right then, she was nervous and seemingly timid. Her next words explained everything.

“Adam, since I met you, I’ve had these feelings,” she explained to me. “I thought it was just a silly little crush, since you are so handsome.” She paused and looked at me to gauge my reaction for a second before continuing. “But I can’t fool myself: I think it might be more than that.”

Then it was my face that was turning crimson. I had long since had feelings for her, but never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined her returning those feelings.

An awkward silence followed her confession, and we just looked at each other. Holly’s green eyes reflected both doubt and concern, as she expected some kind of response from me and continued to sip on her wine. Finally, I spoke up.

“Holly, I have the same feelings towards you,” I admitted.

As if something massive was lifted off her shoulders, Holly returned to a more relaxed state. “Oh my god, I thought you would find it weird that an older woman likes you honestly,” she said with a laugh. “I mean, you probably attract plenty of women your own age and-”

“But I want you,” I interrupted. “I’ve wanted you since we first met, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. You’re my neighbor after all.”

Holly was caught off guard by my interjection, her eyes wide open. She took yet another sip of her drink. I began to wonder how strong that drink was, and if it had anything to do with her openness.

“Can I ask you something Adam?” she asked timidly.

“Anything Holly,” I replied.

“Do you have a thing for feet?”

Now it was me caught off guard. “Yes,” I answered simply.

Her face began to twist into one of those “I got you” smiles. She was beginning to understand the attraction. “And what about my feet?”

I smiled back. “Well, why don’t I show you?”

Holly nodded and raised her feet to my face and I plunged my nose in between her small soles. I began sniffing like a curious dog near a fire hydrant. Her feet smelled delicious, and I savored my first time getting to directly smell them.

“How do they smell?” she asked, amused at my enthusiasm.

“Heavenly,” I told her simply, as I continued sniffing.

“I’ve never met a guy who found my feet attractive or like the smell,” she laughed. “What else do people like you do with feet?”

Rather than simply reply, I stopped sniffing and slowly brought my tongue out and licked the soles of her dainty feet. Holly’s mouth opened wide, but no protest came out. My tongue began to explore her sexy wrinkled feet, which tasted very sweaty and salty. This apparently tickled Holly, as she started giggling, but tried hard to restrain it. I found the tastiest part was the underside of her little toes, and as I licked them they would react by wiggling uncontrollably.

“Oh my god, that feels so weird!” she exclaimed. “Why have I never tried this before?”

“We are only getting started,” I told her. With that said, I opened my mouth and engulfed three of her toes on her right foot. They too proved to be extremely sweaty, and apparently ticklish too.

“Bahahahahaha!” Holly laughed. “Please go easy on me! I’ll wake up Connor!”

I suddenly remembered the boy was still in bed. Holly moved her feet away, red in the face from my onslaught.

“Let’s go to my room,” she suggested. “He’s less likely to hear us in there.”

We crept quickly to the master bedroom, unknown to her how intimate I was with the room and it’s shoe closet. Holly ushered me in and gently closed the door. I began to notice a new side to Holly was emerging. A playful, giggly side. She jumped on the bed with a laugh, much like a five year old. I began to wonder if Holly had any sort of sex life after her husband, but my train of thought was quickly interrupted when she put out her feet on the edge of the bed.

“Please do that again Adam!” she asked in a very sensual tone. “I want my toes in your mouth again.”

She didn’t need to ask me twice. I got down near her feet and started on her right foot. My fantasies had not included toe sucking in so long that I forgot how much I desired it. That salty, sweaty taste returned to my mouth as I sucked on her toes in earnest. They were small enough that I could fit several in at each time, even her juicy big toes.

“Oh Adam!” she gasped, seemingly not as tickled anymore. “I love feeling my toes in your hot mouth.”

No argument from me. I continued devouring those tasty toes, lost in my own little world. While I did that, Holly, still in her scrubs, began feeling up her perky little breasts. Something began to rub against my leg, nearing my crotch. I took a second to look down and sure enough, Holly’s left foot was making it’s way down to my fully erect cock. Prompted to smile, I proceeded to lick the sole of her foot again. My sensitive tongue could feel each wrinkle, glistening with delicious flavor.

Then I felt her left foot hit my pole. It began to tenderly caress my throbbing manhood, sending shockwaves all over my body. I hadn’t felt like this in a long time, nor could my late night adventures with her shoes compare to this. And we were just getting started.

Her dainty, skilled foot pinpointed where the tip of my cock was in my pants. Thought I was on Cloud 9, I did feel a bit uncomfortable having my erection confined. So I unzipped my pants and let it fly, surprising Holly.

“Someone’s happy to see me,” Holly teased, as her toes began stroking the head with gusto.

“I’m always happy to see you,” I replied, though I realized immediately that was quite cheesy.

Holly actually laughed though, and tugged her right foot away from me. She next wrapped both her heavenly feet around my cock and began pumping away. I found myself quite surprised at how fast she could go and still have a strong grip. My balls were already filled with cum before she did began her stroking, but now I was about to shoot my load.

“You do that so good Holly,” I told her, drunk in pleasure.

Suddenly, she stopped. Just as things were getting good, she stopped. I could feel the pleasure quickly dissipate, like air out of a balloon. I gave Holly a questioning look.

“I’m not ready for you to cum yet,” she announced, then retreated her feet away from me. As one could imagine, I was a bit disappointed. But that didn’t last very long. Holly unbuttoned her scrubs, moving her hips around like she was doing a little strip show. She slowly pulled off her shirt, revealing a very showy white bra underneath, followed by her pants to reveal matching panties.

“I didn’t want to make you cum with my feet.,” she said, beckoning for me to get on the bed. I took off my pants and laid down next to her, and immediately she got on top of me. “I want this to last a little longer.”

With that, she shoved her face into mine and stuck her tongue down my mouth. From playful to aggressive, Holly was showing yet another side of her. While I was caught off guard at first, I soon regained my senses and attacked her mouth and tongue with equal furiosity. While our tongues wrestled, Holly began to grind on my cock, giving it new life. We made out for several long minutes before she finally broke it off. Her face was messy with saliva, and her neat hair was in the same boat. The look in her eyes told me she was willing to go all the way.

I took my chance to take the initiative, and grabbed her roughly, prompting a yelp. My mouth found her right breast and I started sucking on her nipple with an appetite. Holly’s moans grew louder and her breathing heavier. I would have worried that Connor would hear, but I was fair too distracted to care. Her left breast proved just as sensitive for the young mother, as I sucked and slightly bit on that next.

“Adam, I need to be eaten out!” she said, basically screaming at this point. “Do it Adam!”

A part of me might have been unhappy that I was being ordered around, but I didn’t protest whatsoever. I pulled her back, ripped her panties off her legs, and buried my face right into her shaved pussy. It smelled damp and sweaty, much like her feet. It took became very intoxicating, but my focus was on her pleasure. I drilled my tongue inside of her, and Holly screamed louder and higher than ever before.


Holly evidently had not be touched here for awhile. She was very tight and seemingly very sensitive. In fact, everywhere seemed sensitive to this divorced woman. I admit that doing this wasn’t exactly my favorite part, but it sure as hell was her’s. Holly’s screaming only went higher in pitch. My tongue didn’t stop licking her juices until I could feel her shaking. Now it was my turn to take control again.

I stopped licking her sex and looked her straight in the eye. “I want you,” I told her simply.

Her eyes stared back at me, unblinking. “Do it,” is all she said.

Without hesitation I brought her down, and got myself into missionary position. I stuck my cock inside her wet entrance and slowly inserted myself inside of her. Holly held back a yelp, seemingly in control of herself again. That didn’t last long, just as I started pumping my manhood inside of her, she became to scream bloody murder. Somehow, this only turned me on more and I went faster and harder on the luscious blonde hottie.

While I went to town on Holly, her feet were right to the side of my shoulders. I carefully brought her left foot to my mouth and began licking them feverishly. The pre-cum on her soles didn’t bother me, as I bathed every inch of those feet, and then took her toes into my mouth. Nor did my fucking slow down, and I could feel both of us were near the finish. I took one last mouthful of her hot juicy toes, then let them go and went for the kill.

Mustering up all my strength, I pumped even faster. Holly was so lost in pleasure, squeezing her breasts and red in the face. There was only so much more this woman could take. I suddenly felt her cum as I continued fucking her. Moans escaped her lips, and she started going limp in exhaustion. With one last thrust, I push myself deep inside of her and shot all that built up cum. With that, I pulled out and slowly collapsed on her.

We both were exhausted and spent. For maybe a minute or so, we could only just catch our breath. Finally, she started to laugh a little. Strange enough, I joined in too. I wrapped my arms around her and she warmly accept my embrace.

“That was the best I’ve ever had,” she told me.

“I was just thinking the same,” I replied, looking deep into her beautiful blue eyes.

We kissed again, but this time slowly and calmer. Like more civilized lovers. We fell asleep just minutes later, tired from our exciting night.

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