Subject: Feet First: a variation on a fantasy
From: mkoven@morgan.ucs.mun.ca
Newsgroups: rec.arts.erotica
Date: 12 Nov 1994 14:18:57 -0500
Keywords: mf
Review: 5: well written, novel theme, but odd non sequiturs
Archive-name: feet-first

* * * * * * * *
Feet First
a variation on a fantasy

She is asleep on the sofa. The living room is large, with high
ceilings and a picture window on one side overlooking the park.
There is no furniture, apart from the sofa and a small desk; just
books piled up in the corners. A small electric heater warms the
room as snowflakes lightly dance on the window pane. The camera eye
pans 360 degrees to reveal this.

He is awake in the middle of the floor surrounded by papers and
open books and file folders. He watches her sleep. Empty wine
bottles litter the floor, her wine glass knocked over drunkenly by
her unsteady hand, his wine glass is in his hand as hand as he
takes a brief sip. Close up of his eyes. Watching over the rim of
his wine glass.

He and she have been working late that night discussing what
should be done with the project at hand. They have discussed many
alternatives of organisation and presentation, and perhaps even
come to a few conclusions. It is tiring work, compounded with the
wine, and she is exhausted.

She is wearing a big sweatshirt and sweatpants and is barefoot,
with her feet up on the arm of the sofa. He is in jeans and a thick
sweater, white sport socks, sitting in middle of the floor

He looks at his wristwatch and sees that it is late. He is also
tired. But the sight of her bare feet is more intoxicating than the
wine they'd been drinking. Quietly, he stands.

Moving with the quite assurance of obsession he approaches her.

Her feet are small, wide, and slightly pudgy with a high arch
and good definition in the sole. He had seen her touch her own feet
earlier and by the ease of the flesh could tell that her feet were
soft too. He's been sitting in positions all night trying to hide
the growing lump in his pants.

To sneak a purloined kiss of an unknowing foot is a awkward
situation. The potential for embarrassment, of revealing such a
less-than-mainstream fetish exposes more about oneself than should
be revealed. This is what he thinks.

It is late enough that he can dry kiss her big toe, and should
she wake up suddenly he can give the excuse of being about to leave
and didn't want to disappear without saying goodbye. How heavy a
sleeper is she?

He bends over her feet, and quietly inhales the salty popcorny
smell which brings saliva to his mouth. And places a single dry
kiss to the pad of her big toe.

Nothing.

No movement from her.

He kisses her toe again.

Nothing.

As dryly as possible, he licks her big toe.

Small movement from her.

He stands upright, about to make a quick exit.

Nothing.

He bends over and inhales deeply the scent of her feet again.

He draws his tongue across the ball of her foot, under her toes,
and a kiss in the arch.

She moves. Turning over onto her face. Her feet are now soles
up, toes hanging down.

He positions himself underneath her toes, and delicately sucks
each one. Tasting their dried sweatiness each in turn.

She moves, back onto her back, but does not awaken. He knows he
is pushing his luck, but must continue, compelled to continue. His
erection is actually painful.

Her feet back pointing up, he gently draws his cheek across her
soles.

He then notices that her hands are deep down her track pants and
that she is masturbating silently in her sleep. He smiles and
gently licks under her toes.

"Wha?" she says, awaking very suddenly, and a bit confused. She
sees her hand down her pants and realises what has happened. "Oh,
God, I'm so sorry. I'm really embarrassed. I don't know what you
must think of me."

He thinks she doesn't know what *he* thinks of *her*?

"Hey," he says, trying to be as cool as possible, "masturbation
is natural. Not something to be embarrassed about."

"It's still embarrassing."

"Actually, I was in the process of leaving." He bends over her
foot and is about to give it a goodbye peck, when she raises her
other foot and snuggles it into his crotch.

"That felt nice."

He holds one of her feet, while the other is rubbing his crotch,
and gently licks her sole. She is blushing, still glowing a bit
red, puts her hand down her pants and continues her clitoral
self-stimulation.

Slowly.

Methodically.

He takes each toe into his mouth and gently sucks them in turn.

Her mouth is smiling, and now a grimace, and now she comes, with
a throaty gasp and her mouth open wide. Her eyes widen in pleasure.

Her feet point into a stretch, as far as they can, and he licks
her soles wetly.

She squirms in her wet pantied pleasure.

He licks his saliva off her foot.

"Hmmm," she says quietly

"I should be going. It's late."

"Hmmm. Do you have to?"

"Yeah. I think I should. We work together and should probably
keep things ..."

"Probably right."

"Believe me, I'm going straight home to jerk off for a week."

She laughs.

He gives both feet one last semi-dry lick, and is out the door.

The camera follows him out into the wintry night.

End.