Author’s Note:  This is a work of erotica if you’re under the age of eighteen, LEAVE NOW.  Another short story from a book I haven’t gotten around to submitting.  This time–foot fetishes!

          I wanted him hard, stiff and unable to touch me.  That was my plan and it was a good one since Dale and I have been together for fifteen years.  We married right out of high school.  Our oldest, Jason was now fourteen and his sister, Hannah was eleven.  Romance and sexual exploration went right out the window after our seventh year together.  It’s too hard (and dangerous) to be playing out any fantasies when you son or daughter can come waltzing through the door or banging on it if it’s locked.  Interruptions during this sort of thing can lead to really bad feelings or emotional scarring.

            I’d been preparing for this particular weekend since my mother called up and invited the kids to fly out to Colorado for three days.  Dale was working a new job and didn’t have vacation time.  Me?  Well, let’s say I saw the opportunity and took the chance.  Begging off my mother’s invite with the excuse we couldn’t afford airline tickets for me (which was true) I began plotting and planning for the remaining two weeks.

            I had begun watching my husband watch me.  No, not in that lust-filled way but just noticing which particular feature he seemed to be drawn to.  After a decade and a half I was a bit surprised to figure out my husband had a thing for feet.  The first instance was during a trip to the shoe store.  Dale’s eyes seemed to get that far-away look when I took off my shoes to try on a pair of pumps.  He began fidgeting in his seat—that my-crotch-is- uncomfortable kind of squirming.  That sealed it.  I set my sights on putting my foot down.

            Starting off the day with a pedicure at the mall I began pondering my feet trying to see the attraction Dale had.  I’m five-foot, six inches tall and still possessed a petite figure.  Not my hips, unfortunately—childbirth had seen to expand them.  But it gave me curves, a less boyish frame.  While the Asian girl buffed my toe nails I got just a brief understanding of Dale’s obsession.  My feet were slender and my toes were cute—in a roundabout way.  The arch of my foot was reminding me of a low-slung bridge across a small stream.  While the woman began to rub lotion on me I relaxed and planned out my naughty surprise for my husband.


            He came home.  Dale set his lunchbox on the kitchen counter and got a glass out of the cabinet. 

            “Bad day?” I asked.

            “You could say that,” he said filling the cup with water.

            “The kids made it to Mom’s okay.”

            “Good, I was worried.”

            “You look beat—why don’t you take a shower and a nap while I cook dinner?”

            “Sounds like a good plan.”

            No, it doesn’t… I have a much better plan in mind! I thought amid a tremor of excitement.

            Dale kissed me and headed for the bathroom.  Dinner was hard to concentrate on since my arousal at driving my husband crazy and the hot sex we’d have afterwards made my mind wander.  Carousing down erotic lanes I had to bite my lip to keep my attention focused.


            Sitting in the living room watching TV Dale and I talked very little.  He was focused on a news story about a fifteen car pileup on the freeway he used every day to go to work. 

            “Quiet without the kids, isn’t it?” I said, venturing into the start of my seduction.

            “Yeah,” Dale answered, “I forgot what silence sounds like.”

            “Do you really want to watch this?”

            “Not particularly—why, do you have something in mind?”

            Do I? I thought and almost spoke.

            Standing up I offer him my hand, he starts grinning as if he knows what I’m up to.  I try not to laugh because I know what Dale’s thinking is going to happen will be a far cry from reality.  We move to the bedroom.

            Letting go of his hand I start lighting the scented candles I’ve placed around the room.  They smell of jasmine.  I press the play button on the CD player and romantic classical music begins to issue out of the speakers.  He’s moving to kiss me so I let Dale do it.  Our lips meet.  Our tongues begin to dance together and his hands go around my waist.  While the strains of Bach rise I undress him slow and without hurry.

            One button at a time I bare his chest.  Caressing the curly hair he has I’m running my fingers over his pecs and stomach while his breathing increases.  I watch his nostrils flare with every intake of air and his eyes close.  Down I run my hands until I reach his jeans.  Tugging loose his belt I push my left thigh into his legs.  My hip is bumping across the beginnings of his erection.  The snap-sound of his jeans is quickly followed by the rip-tear noise of his descending zipper.  Heat pours out of the opening, wafting across my trembling fingers.  From the top of his underwear I can see the tip of his cock pushing upwards.  He’s hard already.

            The pants hit the floor covering his feet.  I kneel down and he lifts one foot at a time so I can tug off the legs of his jeans.  I make him lift them again so I can remove his socks.  Dale’s hands are on my head, his touch gentle while his fingers wander through my hair.  I pull off his underwear revealing the thatch of black pubic hair curling around the base of his rampant cock.  Marveling at the sight I drink in the twitching head, the jutting veins and the pearly drop of pre-come glistening at the tip.  I want him—in my mouth, pussy and a few other places but I have to tell myself to slow down, to stick to the plan.

            “Been so long since we could take our time,” I hear him say.

            “That’s true,” I reply standing up.

            “Your turn…”

            “No, I’ve got a surprise.  Sit down on the bed, please.”

            He gives me a look of confusion and I’m forced to take his hand and lead him to our bed.  Dale takes a seat and I help him into position.  His back is against the brass headboard, his legs spread apart with his knees straight. 

            “What’s going on here,” Dale says when I show him the soft purple rope I have pulled from under the bed.  I’d bought it at a sex shop a few days ago.

            “Shush,” I tell him, “just play along, okay?”

            “Sure, Zoe.”

            His voice is filled with both a sense of erotic wonderment with just the right arousing sprinkling of nervousness.  Dale’s eyes get a bit wide when I begin to tie his wrists to the brass headboard. 

            “I… um… are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked.

            “Absolutely,” I answer.

            Once he’s secured I pull out a white-and-red bag from a lingerie shop, blow him a kiss and leave the room.  He starts to say something but decides against it. I almost sprint to the bathroom.  Tossing off my clothes and dumping them into the hamper I pull on the pink teddy, tiny thong and slip my feet into the feathery mules I bought.  The pink tips of my painted toenails are jutting out of the provocative shoes.

            “Okay, just relax,” I tell my reflection, “he’s going to like this—trust in yourself.”

            I clomp my way back to the bedroom and present myself with a raised arm, cocked hip and (hopefully) my best sultry smile.  Dale’s gone slightly limp, his prick at half-staff almost touching the scented sheets.

            “Ta-da!” I announce.

            “Oh my… you are so beautiful!” Dale exclaims.  “Is this the surprise?”

            “Part of it.”

            Climbing on the bed I work into position until I’m facing him.  I sway to the music, Bach’s concerto has picked up steam and I begin to caress my breasts to the rhythm.  Through half-closed eyes I see Dale’s interest rise as well as the cock between his legs.  Twisting around I show him the pink slip of fabric running between the swells of my ass-cheeks.  I run a finger from the base of my pussy up through the hills of my bottom before jutting out my hips to push my rear closer to him.  Dale’s breathing, hot and heavy tells me my performance is satisfactory.  Wiggling my ass at him I tug down the thong, slow and seductively.  When my rear is fully exposed I let the thong dangle off my right foot.  That’s when Dale notices the mules I’m wearing.

            “Those shoes,” he says, “when did you buy them?”

            I don’t answer because I want him to wonder, to indulge in visions of me buying even more naughty footwear while he’s at work. Dale leans toward my foot and my underwear but I swing my leg away and slither off the bed.  The thong drops off to parts unknown.  Grinding my hips and running my hands up and down my sides (occasionally over my breasts) I send him into a silenced staring contest between his eyes and my undulating body.  I pluck at my breasts, tweak my nipples and run a finger slowly up the wet labia of my cunt. 

            “Oh, this is so hot!” he breaths out in a sudden husk.

            Tugging at the strings holding the teddy on me I let it slide off.  Now I’m nude except for those shoes.  Climbing back on the bed I drape one leg over each of his and squirm against the sheets.  Dale can’t stop his occasional glance at my mule-encased feet.  I dangle them off my feet, precariously hanging just shy of hitting the mattress.  When he finally sees my painted toes I hear him suck in a ragged, desperate breath.  Laying on my back I push my elbows into the backs of my knees, splaying my legs far apart and putting my feet just above my pussy.  I’m open, vulnerable and Dale’s gasping for air.

            “W-what are you going to… oh s-shit!” he moans when I begin to touch myself.

            I pull apart the lips of my pussy, stroking it gently before circling the outer fringes of myself with one pink nailed finger.  My feet dance in mid-air. 

            “Ooooh,” I groan when I slip a finger into myself. 

            “Z-Zoe,” Dale sighs, “you’re killing me here”

            “Not yet… not by a long shot, baby.”

            His cock is flexing in quick jerking flicks.  He can’t touch himself let alone me so the frustration is mounting.  Dipping another finger into my moist slit I moan and grind on the bed.  Dale is trying to lean towards me, his efforts making the headboard creak and groan.

            I think I have his attention, I laugh to myself.

            Scooting back on the bed I flick off the mules and extend my legs towards him, stroking his face with my feet.  Dale’s eyes close and he heaves out a ragged, excited breath.  Every touch of the balls of my feet against his shaven face causes his cock to bob up and down in a quick jerk. 

            “I figured out something about you I never knew,” I tell him.

            “What,” he replies in a dreamy, hungry voice.

            “You like my feet.”

            I hold them up to his mouth.  Tentatively, like I’m going to either yank them away to tease or because he thinks I’m grossed out he extends his tongue.  I let Dale lick my toes, one at a time.  Having them sucked so lovingly I find I’m aroused by it.  I only giggle when he runs his tongue over the ticklish spot on the soles. 

            “You like this,” I say.

            He doesn’t answer but then I rub them against his chest, dragging them softly to his navel while Dale’s body goes into spastic convulsions.  Sweat is beading on his brow, shoulders and chest and it glistens in the candlelight. 

            “Oooh… yeah,” he moans when my right foot caresses his stiff cock.

            I’m afraid he’s going to cum right there from that single stroke but he manages to hold it off.  His eyes are fixated on my feet as he leans forward when I curl the arches of my feet around the thick shaft of his prick.  I rub them together and run them up his quivering shaft.  At the end I squeeze the tip and let the drop of pre-come ooze between my toes.  Dale is husking for air, deep gasps and lip-quivering exhales send a warm breeze across me feet.

            “You want to cum all over my feet?” I ask, “Want to watch your naughty sperm squishing between my toes?”

            “Yes, oh hell yes,” he groans loudly.

            “I’m going to stroke your cock with my feet until exactly that happens.  Then, since I’ll be so worked up you’ll have to eat my pussy until I cum, agreed?  Then I’ll untie you.”

            “Yes… yes a-anything…”

            I push his prick against his stomach with one foot and rub it.  With my other I begin to stroke his nuts with the ball of my foot.  Dale is gasping for air, moaning soft and low while I play with him.  I manage to spread my big toe apart from the rest and push the tube-shaped bottom of his cock between it. 

            “Ooohh… ah!” he cries out when my other foot rubs the small piece of skin between the base of his cock and his puckered anus. 

Dale raises his legs, bending his knees while spreading himself as far apart as possible so I can toe-thumb his butt while rubbing his prick with my other foot.  He can’t speak—he’s overwhelmed.  My pussy is so damp I can look down and see the sheet beneath my ass is wet with my dripping juices.

            “S-so close… oh Zoe… I’m so c-close,” he gasps.

            Taking my other foot away from his rear I put his cock between my arches and begin to jerk him off.  He’s moaning in primal need.  A deep guttural sound mixed with just the barest hint of a desperate whine.  I feel his prick expand between my arches, his chest thrusting out with every breath while I give him a foot-job.

            “Oh.  Yes.  Oh. Y-yes,” Dale sobs.  “Zoe… make me c-c-cum!”

            The time has arrived and I feel the jerking tremor rising up through his cock and just before he shoots I cover the head of his cock with my toes. 

            “Y-y-yes!” he cries out loudly.

            Warm, thick shots of his sperm squirt out between my toes and hit him on the chest.  Each spew from him grow stronger and covers more of my feet until I’m stickily anointed from ankle to toe.  Dale’s body lunges forward with every spastic cum-shot and his eyes are squeezed tightly shut.  Only a soft whine escapes his clenched, white lips.

            With a few final spurts he’s done having given me his all.  Dale opens his eyes and lets out a long, deep moan when I begin to suck my toes clean.  Luck for him I’m still as flexible as I was when I was a gymnast back in high school.  As I tongue away the salty-sweet dollops of his seed I find myself desperate for any sort of sexual release.  My pussy is literally thumping with pulsating need.

            “That was fun,” I tell him.

            “N-now what?” he asked.

            I stand up and slide one leg at a time over his shoulders and put my hands on his head. 

            “You’re gonna eat me out until I get off,” I say.

            I know I’ll be sore by Monday when I go to pick the kids up at the airport but I don’t care because the magic is back in our sex life. Feeling like my heart has dropped near my cunt, the thundering beat of it centered on my wet pussy I begin to untie him.  Filing away his reaction to my toeing his butt I put this away for future reference.  Dale starts devouring my excited, throbbing pussy and I let out a long moan.

            “L-lick me slowly,” I say with a shudder, “we’ve got all weekend.”

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