Loading...It was a gorgeous, sunny day in late July just about a week before my birthday. I had just signed off on an incredible deal that was going to make my company millions and net me a signing bonus big enough to keep me in very expensive shoes for a very long time to come. As I settled into my high back leather chair behind the great mahogany desk that is the centerpiece of my office, I gave a little stretch and yawn and kicked off my four and half inch patent leather pumps.
I curled my toes, clenching my feet muscles and, feeling that satisfactory tightening, I released them, relishing the feeling of the blood flowing to the tips of my toes and through the balls of my feet. I sighed, crossed my legs and leaned forward to open the bottom drawer of my desk when I noticed that the baby toe of my left foot had a chip in the polish. I frowned and bent down further to investigate. This wouldn’t do at all. I had a date set for later that evening and I couldn’t possibly show up with chipped polish.
Grabbing the phone, I punched in the number to my favorite salon-spa and enquired about an afternoon appointment. My regular pedicurist was completely booked much to my chagrin, but there was an opening with someone who had just been hired two days before. I grimaced, but decided I didn’t have much choice and made the appointment.
Hanging up, I leaned over and slipped my toes back into the patent leather pumps loving the way they felt as they wrapped securely around my feet. Passing through my office door, I gave word to my assistant, Paul, that I would be leaving early that afternoon for an appointment and left strict instructions to patch all calls through to my voice mail. My cell was not to be called except for any emergencies. A pedicure is not something to be disturbed.
I was met at the salon by the usual receptionist who apologized for not being able to slide me into an appointment with my regular pedicurist and was escorted straight away to one of the pedicure rooms where candles were already lit, soft relaxing music was playing and a plush robe was waiting for me.
I stripped, taking my time and delighting in the liberating feeling that always overcomes me as each piece of clothing melts away. As always, I left my stockings and underwear until last because I quite enjoy the image that those articles of clothing create. I stared at myself in the antique full length mirror set in the corner of the room. Black lace thong and self stay black thigh highs with lace edging. Classic, I smiled, turning to the side and checking out the view. I ran my hand down my hip and cupped the cheek of my ass. My date had no idea what he was in for.
Just as I was losing myself in thoughts of what I would do to the poor man as I drove him absolutely wild with want, I heard a click and looked towards the door where a very surprised girl in her early twenties stood.
“I’m sorry….Oh my God, I’m so sorry…I just thought….” She shook her head and turned to leave.
I shrugged, calm and nonplussed. “It’s fine. It’s not as though you caught me stark naked.” I joked and winked. I gathered that this was the new girl and didn’t want to get her in trouble when she’d only been there a few days. Besides, the fault was mine. If I had wanted complete privacy, then I ought to have locked the door.
She looked relieved that I wasn’t going to chew her out and rather than make a big deal out of something so ridiculous, she simply picked up the robe, walked over and, coming up behind me, she helped slip me into it.
“Great shoes.” She commented and, as I tied the robe and slipped off my shoes and stockings, she busied herself getting everything she needed set out on a towel.
I sat myself in the chair, slipped my feet into the warm bubbling foot bath and rubbed the arch of one foot with the toes of the other.
We made small talk as she knelt before me and began the ritual of cleansing, sluffing away any dry skin, rinsing and then drying with my left foot. I closed my eyes, thoroughly lost in the incredible sensations of this girl’s soft hands. Soft, and yet when she started to massage the arch, my heel, ankle and began moving up my calf, I couldn’t help but notice the strength in her fingers.
My eyes flew open as her hands moved higher than my regular pedicurist usually went, and as she touched the back of my knee, I gasped lightly. I was feeling slightly indignant at the audacity of this new girl and yet also oddly intrigued and, to be perfectly honest, slightly turned on.
She looked up at me with these huge blue eyes as if to ask if something was wrong. Instead of saying anything, I closed my eyes and laid my head back. Her hands moved no further than my knee, and she started working her way back down to the tips of my toes. I tried to relax, lose myself in the feeling of her fingers massaging the toes of my other foot, but the image of her hands that far up my leg almost, one could say, between my knees, haunted me. I didn’t know whether to be disturbed or to give in to the feeling of warmth that was threatening to take over between my legs.
Again, her hands moved from my toes to the arch of my foot, then to my heel, up my calf and as her fingers skimmed higher, that light touch on the back of my knee just about undid me. I was shocked at myself.
“Do you know what color you’d like?” She asked softly and handed me a swatch of nail polish colors from which to choose. I sorted through each of them and mused that someone got paid an awful lot of money to come up with the silly little names for this rainbow of hues. I settled on Cherry Crush, a vibrant red.
She set to work painting each toe with laser precision and I marveled at how quickly the task was finished with no messes or mistakes. I’ve often tried to paint my own toes and, though I am flexible enough to reach them without effort, the paint application process never goes smoothly or without error. She grabbed a can of “Quick Dry” and sprayed each toe with a mist of drying agent before rising from her knees and beginning the task of cleaning up while I relaxed, waiting for my toes to dry.
A few minutes later, she knelt back down to inspect her handiwork and a look of sheer satisfaction came over her face. “They’re perfect.” She mused and her finger traced a path down my big toe.
“I’ll admit, I was worried when they told me I would be taken care of by someone new.” I told her honestly. “But you did an incredible job.” I smiled.
“It’s hard to mess up on toes like this.” She continued to stare. “Your toes really are perfect, you know. You don’t know how many feet I see that I’d really rather not touch, but your’s…” She trailed off.
“Mine?” I encouraged.
“Your’s are simply beautiful. Completely perfect. Look at those toes….They look like perfect little ice cream cones with cherries on top.”
I smiled, liking the image and as she gazed up at me, there was a look of desire so intent in her eyes, as though she would love nothing more than to lick each of those ice cream cone toes.
Now here was a dilemma. How unethical would it be for me to seduce someone that I was supposed to pay for services rendered? I gave a small chuckle to myself.
It wasn’t the ethics of the matter. Lord knows I’d crossed several of those lines already in my office, after hours outside of board rooms. No, it wasn’t ethics at all, I realized as I stopped to think about what had me hesitant. It was the fact that she was a…She. I’d never done this with a woman before. How…strange. Well, I mused, there’s a first time for everything.
“And aren’t ice cream cones meant for licking?” I asked, huskily raising an eyebrow.
A slow smile lit her face as the tip of her tongue traced her upper lip. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
She traced the shape of my left foot with her index finger and cupped it in her hand, almost lovingly. Ridiculously slow, her tongue began tracing the tips of each of the toes on that foot and my head fell back, my eyes closed. I’m not even completely certain as to what she did with her mouth because I couldn’t watch. It was that good.
At some point, her tongue swirled around each toe and she sucked my big toe into her mouth all the while flicking it gently with her tongue. It was a technique I use often when I’m giving a guy head. I’ve always been told I give amazing head, and now I realized that if my doing this to a guy’s cock felt as good as her doing it to my big toe was, then I did indeed give one hell of a blow job.
When her teeth sank gently into the arch of my foot, a searing white light of heat pulsed through me and could feel immediately that my thong was incredibly wet. Without much thought, almost on auto pilot, my knees parted and I pushed aside my robe. My fingers found their way inside of my thong. The entire area was throbbing.
As my middle finger stroked my swollen clit, my eyes opened and I stared down at her. She stared back, pure lust written on her face and I saw that she too had slipped a hand underneath her skirt. Setting my left foot down, she turned her attention to my right foot, picking it up with her free hand and torturing my toes with her mouth much in the same manner as she had the left.
I lifted my left foot and slipped it beneath her skirt. My toes found her hand and, with them, I pushed it aside. My foot began to stroke her and I marveled that she was as wet as I was.
She gasped and I felt her hips move against my foot. Ah, so that was what she wanted. I smiled and began to retract my foot. She moved with me trying to keep contact and I continued to retract. I pulled my right foot away from her mouth and she looked up, completely confused.
“Didn’t you like it?” She started. “I thought you liked it. I mean you were….” She stood up.
“I loved it. But I want more. And I know what you want. You want to fuck my foot.” I stated.
“Yes.” She admitted.
“And I’d love nothing more than to do that for you. But, first, I want you to please me completely. Then you’ll get what you want. Trade for trade.” I grinned and stood up, pulled my robe from my shoulders letting it fall to the floor. I hooked my fingers in the waist of my thong and began to pull it down. Then I sat back on the chair, spread my legs and scooted my ass forward. I crooked a finger at her, beckoning for her to come closer.
As she began walking towards me, I shook my head and motioned for her to stop.
“No no…” I breathed. “Crawl.”
She dropped to her knees and moved forward once again. She looked like a cat in heat with her rear end in the air. If she had a tail, I imagined it would be twitching back and forth in anticipation of what was to come.
She moved up between my legs, her tongue tracing wet trails along my thighs. I was certain I would burst when she finally touched her tongue to my swollen clit. The initial shock was so powerful that I jerked uncontrollably. As she continued, my hips began moving with the rhythm of her tongue. It was incredible. She was so soft and gentle and yet so passionate. When she slipped her finger inside of me while her tongue continued to tease my clit, I exploded with an orgasm so intense that I thought I might burst into a million pieces.
She continued to lick and suck soothingly as I came down from the cloud I had ascended to and looked up at me like a puppy that had just obeyed a command and was now eagerly awaiting a reward.
I pulled her up on to the chair so that she was straddling me and I took her face in my hands, kissing her softly and loving that I could taste myself on her lips.
“Stand up.” I told her. “Take off your skirt.”
She did as she was told and I lifted a foot hooking my toe into the waist of her sensible white bikini panties. Gently I pulled them down over her legs and when they fell to the floor, I moved forward in my chair and reached out, pulling her closer. My hand moved between her legs and I stroked her softly, feeling the heat and wetness against my fingers.
“You’re so wet.” I mused. “You want my feet that much?” I asked, knowing the answer full well.
“Yes…” She nodded. “They’re so perfect.” I sat back in the chair and brought my toes to her clit, stroking gently, not knowing exactly what it was that she liked. Her eyes closed and her head fell back for a moment before she opened them and looked down at what was happening. As she began to breathe heavier, I started using the entire top of my foot against her and soon enough, she grabbed my foot with her hand and beckoned for the other one. I lifted it up and she pressed my two feet soles together. She placed them between her legs and pulled them up to the hot wetness again. She began rubbing herself against them – fucking them if you will. I watched with fascination.
Not long afterwards, I felt her beginning to tense and she began to shake. She gasped, cried out and fell forward. I caught her and pulled her against me. Together, we caught our breath and sat for awhile both of us, I think, amazed at what had just transpired.
“Well…” I began after we were breathing steadily again. “I can’t very well take my feet back to the office like this….”
She gave a small giggle and when I caught her gaze, I winked to let her know that I was completely ok with what had happened between us.
She filled the foot bath with new water and treated me to a cleansing and another incredible rub down. She gently dried each foot, rubbed in some lotion smelling of jasmine and inspected each toe to make sure my polish job hadn’t been ruined. Satisfied that each toe still looked absolutely perfect, she watched as I pulled on my stocking and when I was dressed, I sat, allowing her to slip each of the patent leather pumps back onto my feet.
“These really are great shoes.” She smiled.
“Mmm… I agreed. They’re one of my favorites. Nothing beats a classic shoe.” I rose and moved towards the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Rachel.” She answered.
“Rachel.” I nodded and without another word, I left the room and headed to the front desk to pay where I left Rachel with a sizable tip and penciled myself in for another appointment with the “new girl” for the following week.