Car Problems

As usual, I awakened to begin my day at the word processor, to work on my

current book. I had to revise and rewrite several chapters, so, I got out

of bed, made coffee, and took a good hot shower. While drying off, I walked

into the living room of my apartment and opened the door to take in the

clean, fresh Arizona morning air. It was one of the rare days in Scottsdale,

when it rains. The air was cool outside, and it was good to feel it

whispering into my doorway after my hot morning shower. I finished drying

and got dressed in my sweatshorts and a tee shirt--my standard comfortable

attire. Oh, and I liked to open my front door for another reason, too.

There is this girl in the apartment directly above me. I found a nice

little slice enjoyment, as she walked past my door every workday morning.

I was very familiar with her routine. I'd here her door slam above mine,

then, the sound of her high heels clicking down the stairway and past my

apartment, which is located by the breezeway, leading out to the covered

parking area. She'd pass in front of my door daily, between 7:30 and a

quarter of eight. Her name, Jessica, the girl upstairs--about 26, great

figure, and the sexiest legs one could imagine. She'd always dressed

professionally, yet with enough flair to show off her maiden formed body and

gorgeous legs, too.

The rain was steadily coming down as she hurriedly passed my opened door

and made her way to her car. I looked at the clock above my entertainment

center Hmm, almost eight o'clock." This day we didn't have the

opportunity exchange the morningtime pleasantries--I knew she was running

late for work. I did, however, catch a quick glimpse of her black patent

leather pumps and her black stockings, as she flashed by my apartment.

I'd often imagined what it be like to see her relax, kick her shoes off, and

expose her small, sexy feet to me--up close and personal. A wild dream,

indeed--since she had a boyfriend, and needless to mention, always seemed in

a hurry every time I saw her. Nonetheless, she and I were friendly towards

one another, and it was a pleasure just to have my day begin with her

sticking her head into my dooway and saying hello, and buzzing off to her

workplace.

The sound of her heels faded into silence, as I went about preparing my

customary cup of morning coffee. Suddenly, I heard the sound of her heels

again--returning from the parking area. The sound stopped at my doorway. I

turned. There she stood--rainwater dripping from her hair.

Well good morning Jessica, how are you this fine wet day?

Terrible. She stepped inside, I'm soaked, late for work, and my damn car

won't start.

Not a problem, I replied, If we can't get your car started, I'll run you to

your office. I began to think of her frantically pumping her gas pedal with

those sexy patent leather shoes on her tiny, little feet. Let's go see if

we can get it started.

I placed my coffee mug by my computer desk, and I grabbed my car keys.

Are you possibly out of gas? My heart began to race, for I knew I was mere

moments away from seeing this vision of beauty mashing away at her gas

pedal, while I'd be standing close by watching and wishing it was my

stiffend cock under her pumping foot. I looked down to the ceramic tile

entry floor to see the wet shoes on her little feet.

No, I filled up last night--on the way home from work. She stepped back

towards the threshold.

I looked up to her eyes--she clearly viewed where my eyes had been fixed.

She apologetically spoke, I'm sorry for messing up your floor--my feet and

shoes are soaked, I stepped in a deep puddle. I'll mop up my mess.

I quickly replied, Thank you, but don't you worry, let's get you going--I'll

get it later.

She smiled at me, I owe you one--and I appreciate your help.

We walked out of my apartment--I walked behind her, watching her

stockinged feet squish in those black pumps. The rain had slowed to a steady

drizzle as we stepped from the curb and entered the parking area. Thank

goodness we have covered parking--it doesn't help much, does it? She

inserted her key into the door's lock. "And... this is a brand new car,

too.

I told her that it was a rather nice car -- she drove a moderately priced

Infiniti J-30. You really shouldn't be having problems with a new car.

She opened the door and stepped inside. I walked to her side and watched

as she placed her foot to the pedal. She turned the ignition switch and

began pumping the pedal. The car didn't start. I felt that, all too familiar,

bulge forming in my sweatshorts.

She continued to pump the pedal, then pressing it completely to the floor. I

was getting weak at the knees. I'd never dreamed that I'd ever have the

opportunity of getting that close to her--much less watching her perfectly

shaped foot pounding away at the pedal of her new car.

My eyes were, again, fixed on her feet.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her turn to look at me--I thought...Oh,

shit--I'm caught again. I couldn't take my eyes off of her feet, too quickly,

so I slowly shifted my view to meet her eyes and made a comment about her

popping the hood to her car.

Oh never mind, she said, I'm late for work anyway--I'll call in and tell

them I need to have my car taken to the dealership for repairs.

She was upset, to say the least. We ran back to the breezeway to avoid the

rain. We were both fairly drenched by the time we stepped up on the curb.

I had my opportunity--I siezed the moment, Please, call your office from my

apartment, and I'll fix you a cup of coffee while you dry off. We were

almost to my apartment.

She was frowning, No, I'm soaked and pissed--I won't be good company.

I encouraged her company, again, as we stopped at my doorway, I insist,

besides; we've never really had the opportunity to visit--I'll get you a

towel and a good cup of hot coffee. Come on in.

When she agreed, my body began to tremble with delight. Okay, I was

running late this morning, anyways and haven't had my morning coffee--that

does sound good!

We walked into my apartment and I pointed to my love seat, Here, have a

seat. I walked into the kitchen, and turned around to suggest that she

remove her wet shoes--but, to my surprise, she had just kicked them off. I

was excited. Her feet were encased in reinforced toe nylons. I could tell

that her feet were small because of her shoes--but they were slende, petite,

and soft looking, from my vantage point.

I poured her a cup of coffee, grabbed two towels, and went to her side,

closing the front door as I returned. I sat her cup of coffee on the

occassional table and offerred her one of the towels. I was still trembling

with excitement at the idea that this lovely young maiden, I've admired many

times, sitting in my apartment with shoes removed.

She dried her hands, thanked me for my kind hospitality, and lifted the cup

of coffee to her lips. I knelt beside her and picked her shoes. I could feel

the warm dampness from them as my hand touched the inside portion of the

shoe leather. I placed them in the towel and began to dry the outside of the

highly glossed leather's surface.

She took a sip of coffee and quickly said, Oh, you don't have to do that,

they're all wet and smelly--please, I'm embarrassed.

I lifted the shoe to my nose and enhaled the wet leather deeply into my

lungs. I also saw 'size 6' stamped into the inside edge of the spiked heel

shoe. I looked at her as I lowered her shoe. See--there is no offensive

smell at all, matter of fact, I love the smell of your leather.

Her grimace turned to a smile as I carefully wiped the beautiful shoes.

Her sexy smile told me that she wasn't offended by my comment, nor by my

actions. I stood up and walked to my desk to retrieve the cordless phone.

My swelling hard-on was showing, although I hadn't yet, become fully erect.

I didn't try to hide the obvious excitement located between my thighs.

I walked back to her, set the cordless in her hand, and took my seat again,

within reaching distance of her sexy little feet.

Looking at the buttons on the handset, she asked, How do I turn this thing

on?

I kneeled reverently at her feet, allowing her toes to touch at my knees.

She slightly lifted her toes to feel that our skin was touching and quickly

withdrew them to the edge of the love seat. Gosh, my heart was racing.

Yet, I couldn't resist. I pointed to the 'talk' button on the phone and

touch the top of her foot, Just press that button--oh, I can feel that your

feet are soaked, here--let me dry them while you talk on the phone.

I was waiting for her to tell me no, when suddenly, she lifted her feet

together and pointed them in my direction. As she began to dial her office,

she said, I thought you'd never ask--you'd dried my shoes beautifully, I was

wondering if you could do the same for my tootsies--wait, let me help you

now. As I sat at her feet, she stood with the phone pressed to her ear with

her shoulder and removed her black and lacy-topped thigh high stockings.

As she stepped out of them and sat back down, she wadded the stockings

and tossed them toward the trash can beside my desk. I inched my way

toward her legs. She crossed her leg and pointed her toes right at my face.

She spoke slyly and seductively, There, let's see if you can dry them before

you wet them. I couldn't believe what she said to me. I wanted to ask her to

repeat herself, but when she dropped her foot to my bulging shorts and

lightly pressed her size six foot onto to my hardening shaft, I decided that

I heard exactly what she'd said.

A co-worker answered the call from her, and I began to dry each of her

perfectly shaped toes as she started to explain her car problems to her

office. Her feet were ticklish, and she wriggled them as I applied my tender

loving hands to her soles with the towel. I heard her say that a very close

friend had offerred to assist her and she would be at work as soon as she

could get there--but had no idea hon long it would take.

I could tell that the person she was speaking with, was a female friend,

by the way their conversation unfolded. Then she began to giggle and she

shook her foot. I suppose that I got carried away with the fact that her

ticklish foot was too tempting to avoid me offerring a little tickle.

I could almost hear the voice on the other phone querey about her laughing

--by her reply. Oh, it's really nothing much -- this friend of mine is so

helpful, she placed her soft, sexy foot precisely on the head of my raging

hard-on. He's trying to get my car started, as we speak. She began pumping

my cock just like a gas pedal and she moved her hand to her inner thigh.

Well, I better go -- I think he'll have it running any minute.

She dropped the phone and put her other foot on my hardness. Oh, I love the

way you feel under my feet -- it is such a turn on when you sensually

tickled my feet. She leaned back and faced the ceiling as she moved her

panties to one side, and began to finger herself--offerring me a fantastic

view between her spread legs.

I felt my throbbig cock begin to lurch under the pressure of her bare feet.

I looked down to her feet. Her red painted toes contrasted nicely to the

creamy white color of the top of her feet. Her pink soles were flawlessly

smooth and soft -- from heel to toe. I moved her feet quickly to my thigh

as I raised my shorts to expose my hot and hard shaft. I guided her feet

back to my cock and continued to watch her feet, as she inched her toes to

the tip. Her movements caused by her masturbating, made her heels dig in to

the base of my shaft while her toes pressed an wriggled at the tip.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her intoxicating toes. I saw the pre-cum

oozing from the tip of my cock and stringing onto the tips of her slender

toes as she wriggled them wildly on my cock's head.

She began to moan and orgasm -- the first deep breath that she took and

held caused her to freeze for a brief moment. Her toes locked down on my

cock. I felt a deep throb erupting where her heels were planted. I exploded.

As I twitched and jerked, I saw no cum. Then, she lifted and flexed her

toes and I watched as my cream splattered the bottom of her foot and began

to seep between each of her tiny flexing digits. I was drained.

She sat motionless in extacy -- as my throbbing subsided. She slowly moved

her cum-soaked feet to my thigh and sighed, My boyfriend loves my feet, too

-- but is afraid to admit it. I'm glad I had car problems.

As she moved her feet on my thigh I could feel how wet I made her feet --

almost as wet as the rain. I lifted her foot to wipe my cum from her feet

with the towel. She suddenly stopped me. No! I want to feel you all day --

put my shoes on me -- I need to get to work.

I asked, What about your stockings?

Oh, they're no good now, I think that I snagged them--just throw them away.

I thought -- Yeah right, sure, I'll throw them away.

I placed her shoes on her re-soaked feet and asked her if I could take

her to work. She agreed and stood and placed her high heeled foot on my

wet thigh. Friday my boyfriend is going to be out of town -- would you like

to come up and watch a video with me, this weekend?

I replied, Not a problem--I'd love to--consider your Friday night dance card

filled!