Angeline's Foot Fantasy

For Angeline...

We agreed to meet in the hotel cafe next to the lobby, where they serve cream teas and light snacks. The last time we spoke, I had persuaded you to let me book and pay for rooms in a slightly more sumptuous hotel than you originally had in mind. After all, much of the pleasure of a good fantasy is the setting.

It is early on a winter's evening. The air is fresh and there is a light breeze. You and your friend are wrapped up warm in winter coats, gloves and scarves. Despite this, your nose is cold. The journey has been easy and you arrive a few minutes early. The foyer is brightly lit and you walk straight across the shiny floor to the desk from where a smartly dressed young man directs you to the cafe.

You've managed to keep the butterflies under control up to this point but, as the two of you make your way into the carpeted restaurant, you can't help wishing that there was just time for a few more deep breaths before our first meeting.

Seated at a small table laid with a starched white cloth, I have been watching the entrance with anticipation. I see you arrive and I stand and walk towards you. I'm dressed as I said I would be in a jacket and tie, and I can't help smiling at the pleasure of at last seeing you. We both say hello as I kiss you on the cheek and you introduce me to Vivian who's feeling a little shy at being involved in this rather unusual situation.

We walk to the table and I help you off with your coat, which I fold and place on the remaining chair. Your friend is feeling even more nervous than you and she folds her own coat. I sit down opposite you and ask if you'd like tea and cakes, just as I did in the written fantasy I had sent you a few weeks earlier. You both say yes and I excuse myself from the table and go to place the order. I have no idea what you are saying about me whilst I'm gone, but I hope I have made a good first impression.

Even Vivian starts to relax as we sit and chat. In fact, as we talk, we forget for a while why we are there.

The last of the tea in the pot has almost gone cold when I suggest that we might go up to our rooms. We are silent as we wait for the lift, the tingling anticipation having returned. Thinking that the two of you might like to speak with each other alone for a while, I hand you the keys and say that I will catch you up.

I am not long and, as Vivian sees me walking out of the lift she quickly whispers a few more words and disappears into her room. You place the key card in the door and I follow you in. We enter a small; well laid out, double room. Heavy curtains hang at either side of a large window through which we can see the city skyline.

You lay your coat across the back of a chair and walk silently into the en-suite bathroom, starting to wonder if this is really happening. I switch on the radio to give you some privacy. I decide that heavy rock isn't quite appropriate for the occasion, and quickly select another channel.

I make myself comfortable by stripping down to tee shirt and shorts. Chinos and shirt might be the right attire for a hotel restaurant, but they aren't quite right for enjoying beautiful feet. Unless, of course, the enjoying happens to be taking place in the restaurant.

I'm lying on the bed reading the hotel brochure when you return. I swing my legs round and sit on the side facing the window, beckoning you to come and sit beside me. I ask if you would like to talk some more, but you say no. You kick off your shoes and lift your feet onto the bed. I take your pillow and place it behind you so that you are comfortable. Another pillow I place under your knees so that your legs and feet are relaxed.

Just before you left for the hotel you had washed your feet just the way I had asked, and had put on a clean pair of socks. Stockings or tights might have felt sexier, but me removing them might be a little too sexy for this occasion, at least for now. I carefully remove first one sock and then the other.

I am sitting in a comfortable hotel room and lying on the bed with me is a beautiful young woman with a gorgeous figure, and the cutest, prettiest feet I have ever seen. We share a fantasy about those feet, a fantasy that is about to be fulfilled.

Taking one foot in my hands I begin to feel it, caressing the smooth top and then firmly sliding the palm of my hand along your sole. I smooth and stretch each of your toes with my thumbs and gently slide my fingers between them. So begins a long and very attentive foot massage.

We begin to talk again as we had in the restaurant. Nothing in particular is the topic of our conversation, which is just as well -- the feeling of a man paying such particular attention to your feet is causing your eyelids to droop as you sink, carefree, into your pillow.

Half an hour of smoothing, massaging and stretching has left you feeling quite content. Indeed, several kisses have been placed along the tops of your feet before you are fully aware that anything new is happening. It is a gentle transition as the firm massaging of my hands gives way to gentle kisses from my lips. A new level of excitement takes hold of you as I press my lips over your feet, but you are no less comfortable with what is happening, safe in the knowledge that I am enjoying every moment; any small doubt is soon put to rest by my obvious sounds of pleasure.

So absorbed are you by the sensation of being so thoroughly enjoyed that, little by little, you have adjusted your pillow until now it supports only your head. Your eyes are closed and your face is relaxed. Occasionally arching your back and breathing deeply, you have given yourself over to the moment. As you drift back and forth almost asleep and not quite awake, it comes to you that this guy, who only a few weeks ago was a complete stranger to you, now knows your feet better than anyone. Even you!

"I'd like you to turn over now." You hear my voice, but it takes a few moments for the meaning of the words to sink in. I gently remove the pillow from under your knees and you drowsily roll over onto your front. Now I can properly concentrate on your soles. As your feet are now so very relaxed, they are receptive to a deeper, firmer massage. You feel so inviting as I press your soles with my thumbs and smooth and stretch your feet.

Gently at first, and then with a firmness that comes only from the strongest desire, I kiss your gorgeous soles and your sweet toes. Over and over again, I cover them in kisses. The wonderful feel and heady scent of your beautiful feet have me lost to the world. You make little noises of pleasure that intermingle with mine as you enjoy being enjoyed.

My eyes have delighted in your beauty and my ears have told me that my kisses feel good. My hands and face have felt the softness of your feet and my head has been filled with their fragrance. The caressing and kissing have been pleasure enough, but there is one of my senses, which has yet to appreciate you.

The feeling that I just can't get enough of you is almost overwhelming. My kisses change and become softer as I open my mouth. You have just begun to hope for the firm kisses to return when the sensation changes again, but you are not quite sure what is different. Then you realise. You know that your feet have been touched before, and you are sure that in some way they must have been smelt before, but now, for the first time, they are being tasted.

My hands hold and caress your feet as my tongue works its way over their beautiful shape, licking, probing and exploring every curve and every crease. Intermingling passionate kisses with caresses from my tongue, I am thoroughly absorbed in your feet. Sitting up, I remove my tee shirt and lie back down to resume the pleasure that is you.

This is not a typical encounter between a man and a woman on a bed. This is a fantasy in the very sexy mind of a truly gorgeous woman. The only difference between this and most other fantasies is that this one is really happening.

Rolling you onto your back, I pick you up and move you a little way across the bed. With your feet now dangling over the edge I replace the pillow under your knees and kneel on the floor. As I resume my enjoyment of your gorgeous soles you know there must be something new about to happen.

After several more minutes of kissing, licking and sucking, there is a pause. One of your feet is cradled in my hands. You can feel that I am looking, and contemplating a new pleasure. For some moments though, nothing happens. Then a gentle, adoring kiss alights on one of your toes, and another, and another; one toe has been singled out for my attention. Gradually the little kisses merge into a loving caress from my open lips, and that sweet, precious toe slips gently into my mouth. Firmly but tenderly my tongue relieves your toe of its delicious flavour. My head is spinning. Waves of pleasure wash over me as one by one each of your toes submits to my mouth.

Lying beside you on the bed, having enjoyed you so much, I am warm, relaxed and happy. You are seated with your back against a pillow, one leg crossed over the other, watching me place gentle, contented, random kisses on the feet to which I have just made love. The most obvious sign that I am most enamoured by your company is still largely out of site; the loose material of my underwear saves plenty for the imagination.

You slide one of your feet a little way up the leg of my shorts and lift the material, "These won't still be hiding you away from me when I return, will they?" Knowing the answer already, you slide off the bed and disappear into the bathroom to change into something befitting what is to come. Having me completely under your spell, you know you can take your time.

Satisfied that everything is just right, you open the door and walk slowly and confidently back into the room. Black bra, black panties, black stockings and suspender belt, and black, open-toed, high-heeled shoes. The transformation is complete; this is power dressing, Angeline style. My eyes feast on the sexy beauty before me. It is obvious that I desire more than just your feet -- waiting for you I had lain back down, but now, on your return, I am standing back up.

Up to this point my desire has been for your cute, pretty feet. Yes, I was already aware that the rest of your body is beautiful too, you sent me the pictures. But you were dressed less exotically ten minutes ago, and that allowed me to focus elsewhere. But now all those gorgeous curves are very real, those smooth arms, that beautiful, soft tummy, those sexy shapely thighs, you are desirable all over. And, now that I am standing naked before you, you can see just how much desire.

You do a twirl and then walk up and down the room. As the craving for your body takes hold of me, you walk right up close and look into my eyes, "You may touch only my feet." This principle rule had already been established between us weeks before, but you are enjoying the power, and it felt good to say it again. You are revelling in the fact that you can tease me as much as you like, and I can do nothing about it except yearn for you.

I walk to the chair and sit down. You approach, stand in front of me and, turning to face away, give your instruction to release and remove your bra. Cautiously, so as to avoid touching your skin, I unhook the band. The straps drop gently over your shoulders and the material caresses your body as I take it down over your arms. I place it carefully to one side.

Turning back, I see that you are seated on the chair, one leg crossed over the other. To say the desire that makes me want to be seated at your feet is entirely sexual would be to miss much of what I am feeling; there is so much more to what it means to be drawn to a beautiful, elegant, confident woman. I kneel in front of you and caress your beautiful breasts with my eyes and imagine how good it would be to feel them.

Carefully removing the shoe from your dangling foot, I place it beside your chair. You swap your legs over and I take off your other shoe. Feet that have just been released from high-heeled shoes should be massaged and stretched gently at first. In fact, it should be more like a caress, which gradually becomes firmer as the feet relax. Occasionally exchanging one foot for the other, you sit back enjoying the massage, and enjoying how you are keeping me in a state of excitement.

Pressing my thumbs firmly into one of your soles, my gaze ambles slowly up your body, lingering at your breasts, until our eyes meet. Deciding that it is time the teasing reached new heights, you stand and walk to the bed. There is something extra alluring about the way a beautiful woman walks without shoes, and I drink in every move you make.

Seated on the edge of the bed, you turn to look at me. I rise and walk towards you. Even if I could hide the desire in my eyes and change the way I move to somehow show indifference to you, there is one part of me that gives away my longing, leaving absolutely no doubt. "I wonder how much more I can make it ache?" You think to yourself as I drop to my knees. "Time to make the teasing unbearable..."

I am expecting to take off your stockings, so I am surprised when you stand up and turn away from me. Then my surprise turns to delight when I hear your next instruction. "Take down my panties." The sight of your wearing little more than your panties is exciting enough, so the thought of seeing you without them makes my heart pound. Despite the gap between us, you feel me let out a long sigh. As I raise my hands to reach out for you, you remind me of the rule, "no touching." Very carefully I begin to take hold of some material at either side of your sexy, black panties. It takes several moments for me to pinch some of the smooth cloth between my fingers and thumbs, giving us both a few more moments to imagine how it will feel when I am looking at a part of you that I have desired to see since I saw those very first photo's.

With a firm grip on either side, I slowly peel your panties down, gradually revealing, inch by inch, your beautiful little bottom. Never before in my life have I had to control such strong desires; the ache to touch you is almost overwhelming. But, the need to pleasure you just the way you want is stronger, just.

I gently slide your sweet panties down your legs and help you to step out of them. An object of desire and a work of art, your bottom has me captivated. I take a long, lingering look at beautiful, gorgeous, sexy you. My warm breath touches you.

Confident that you can tease me as much as you like -- and knowing the effect it will have on me -- slowly, and deliberately, you bend forward over the bed, looking back at me to see what you are doing to me. Waves of desire course through my body with such intensity that I catch my breath. After several moments you turn back and sit down, eager to preserve in your mind that look of overwhelming desire that is painted all over my face and my body.

Placing your left foot against my right knee, you slide your foot a little way up my thigh. I shudder with expectation. Fixing my gaze, you speak softly, "I think these stockings should come off, don't you?" As I lean forward to reach one of your suspenders, your foot presses into my thigh and I feel you grip your toes with the promise of things to come.

Releasing stockings from a suspended belt is not the easiest task, and you forgive the occasional slight touch of my fingers against your skin. It is a gorgeous sensation, for both of us, to slowly peel a shear stocking down your beautiful leg and over your pretty foot. A pretty foot which now rests bare against my thigh. So close. I cradle it in my hands and place upon it an adoring kiss. You are relieved of your other stocking in the same careful manner.

Rising from your seat, you walk around the room so as to properly display yourself to me in all your naked beauty. The clips of your suspender belt pat gently against your thighs as you move. You know that you are completely naked save for a small piece of almost insignificant lacy material around your hips yet, in a strange sort of way, that little lacy belt makes you feel still dressed.

Every beautiful curve of you moves in an alluring way. I want you. I want your body, I want your touch, I want to hold you, I want to feel and kiss all over your body from the top of your head right down to the tips of your toes and absolutely everywhere in between.

Standing in front of me, you run your fingers round the inside of your suspender belt. You toy with your suspenders, taking hold of each one at the belt and slowly sliding along it's length until the clip slips from your fingers, flops back and pats against your thigh. Reaching for the belt, and without the slightest touch from my fingers, I unhook and remove the delicate garment from around your beautiful hips. You are completely naked, there is now no part of you that I have not seen, and every ounce of me wants every ounce of you.

You sit back on the bed and cross your legs as you had on the chair earlier. This time though, with no shoes or stockings in the way, I can enjoy your feet as I had on the bed before. And I do. As I caress and kiss those darling little feet, I gradually lower myself down to the floor. Flat on my back, I kiss the sole of one foot and you begin to rub my body with the other. We continue like this for some minutes, swapping one foot for the other.

After a couple of minutes, a sudden devilish thought enters your head, "Now that I'm naked, why not...". "No", you think to yourself, "I couldn't; it wouldn't be right." But why not? It's your fantasy. Your body is yours to do with as you please. You want to pleasure him, and he has let you know that he gets pleasure from a woman's desires. So it's better than right, it's perfect. And anyway, why should he have all the fun?

Pulling your feet away, you kneel up on the bed. I am eager with anticipation wondering what is to come. You begin gliding your fingers up and down your arms. You have always enjoyed the sensation of touching your own body. You have wished before that men would learn to do this just right. Well, now this one can watch and learn. Not that it will do him any good, as he will never get to put his new found wisdom into practice.

You can see in my eyes, as well as else where, how much I would love to be touching and caressing your body. But my role is merely to watch and to yearn. You run your fingers through your hair, around your neck and down your sides. Stretching out your legs you feel your way up and around your beautiful thighs. "You will never do this", you purr as I gaze longingly into your eyes like a puppy dog not sure what he has done to be treated so cruelly.

Kneeling up again you smooth your hands up your thighs, over your tummy, and gently cup your breasts. I am aching for you more than I have ever ached for any woman, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. And you know it. The thrill of controlling my desire is making the sensation of touching and feeling yourself all the more intense.

You run your fingers back down your body and around your hips. With the softest, feather light touches, you glide your fingers over your pretty little bottom, back round your hips and down and up your thighs. I am spellbound.

"No point in stopping now," you think to yourself. Indeed, you are not quite sure if you could stop now. Touching and feeling your breasts once more, you slide your hands slowly and deliberately down your front. There is, of course, one final place your hands must go.

Feeling up and down the insides of your thighs, back to your tummy and then down again, your hands work their way closer and closer. You position yourself so that I can see exactly what your fingers are doing as you begin, ever so slowly, and ever so gently at first, to pleasure yourself. Slowly and rhythmically you feel yourself. Your fingers know just how you like to be touched, and it feels so good.