Feet Fatale Ch. 02

Andrew was sitting at his desk, trying to look busy but really wishing the afternoon away, when his cellphone beeped on his desk. He reached over and picked it up - a text message.

5:15, little boy. Anderson's Mall entrance. Don't be late.

There was no signature line, and the phone number was hidden, but there could be no boudt who it was from. His Goddess. His Mistress. Hell, he didn't even know her name, but he knew she had the most gorgeous feet she had ever seen.

His cock sprang to life immediately at the recollection of her toes, slowly and carefully bringing him to the most amazing orgasm he'd ever had. He squirmed at his desk, feeling as though his too-hard dick must be obvious to eveyone else in the office. There were two hours to wait. God, it seemed like forever. There was no chance of him getting any work done now, of course. Every time he tried, his thoughts drifted back to those incredibly sexy toes, their taste, the warm soft feel of them on his shaft .... oh, fuck yes.

At five, he packed up his desk and left as quickly as he could, awkwardly holding his jacket to try to cover the telltale signs of his arousal. He managed, somehow, to escape with his reputation intact, and half-walked, half-ran the few blocks to Anderson's.

Inside, he lurked near one of the stores, surreptitiously watching the entrance, watching mainly at foot level - he'd know those feet when he saw them. He was watching intently, waiting. It was 5.25 now. She was ten minutes late. Then again, she hadn't said SHE would be there on time, and he'd wait all damn night if he had to. He was musing on these thoughts when a sudden tap to his shoulder made him jump. He turned, shocked at the thought that someone from work might have run into him, and then melted. It was her.

She was doll-like, perfect, exactly as his memory had promised. Long, bottle-blonde hair tumbling loosely over her shoulders, full pouty lips in a sweet plum colour, eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. She was dressed in a white blouse, a shade too tight so that the buttons strained to keep her breasts contained; a skirt which was just short enough to tease, just long enough for the office; long, brown legs leading down to those utterly sexy feet. She wore subtle, light pink polish today; the same toe rings, and high heeled white sandals.

She spoke suddenly, just softly enough for him to hear, a low-pitched,sultry voice. "If you're through gawking, little boy, you may kneel and kiss me hello." A slight movement of her big toe was enough to make it clear where she expected this welcome to be bestowed.

Andrew's eyes shot open wide. "Here?" he stammered. "in the middle of the mall?"

She half-turned away, shrugging. "Have it your own way."

Andrew took a deep breath and fell to his knees, as she'd known he would. Having knelt so far, he found he could not bring his lips to her feet without placing his hands on the floor and really leaning down. He did so, closing his eyes and trying to block out the giggling of a group of schoolgirls walking past, or some bitch's comments that "THAT was the way to treat a man." In moments, though, his humiliation was rewarded as his nose caught the scent of her feet, and his lips caressed the most perfect toes he had ever seen. They were delicious, and he suddenly found he did not want to stand up. But stand he did, when she indicated by a slight lifting of her foot that she'd had enough.

Standing, of course, meant that he was washed with humiliation once more as he saw the grins and laughs of passersby. Nobody he knew, thank goodness. He didn't have time to dwell, however, because She was already walking away. "Come along, darling," she said over her shoulder. "We're going shoe shopping."

Andrew's jaw dropped, but he scurried to catch up to her. Shoe shopping? He had assumed that the shopping centre had served its purpose, had provided a ready-made audience for his humiliation, and that now they would head to her place for him to worship more seriously ... but apparently not. She wanted to play some more. He caught up with her, and she slipped her arm through his with a grin, for all the world like his beau on a date.

She led him into La Monne, a fairly standard franchise store, where she browsed beside him, picking up pair after pair ... "Wouldn't these look lovely on me, darling?" she'd purr. He could only agree. In th end, she found a pair of pearl-white, three inch heels, straps around the ankles and just open at the front far enough that the tiniest hint of her toes peeked through. She pronounced them adorable, and asked the sales girl for a pair in her size.

The girl, a cute young redhead of seventeen or so, soon returned and knelt down to one knee to help try the shoe on, but Andrew's goddess was having none of that. "It's okay, honey," she said. "My footslave here will do the honours, won't you darling?"

Andrew nodded and stammered that he'd be delighted. He went to his knees and slowly, carefully removed her sandals. When they were off, she wiggled her toes again and whispered, "I think they want another kiss."

This time he didn't hesitate, but the mirrors made the situation a thousand times more embarrassing. Everywhere in the shop, it seemed, was another reflected image of Andrew, on his knees, kissing her toes tenderly. People stopped and stared openly. Andrew's face burned crimson with embarrassment, but he concentrated on her feet - that much, at least, was easy - and by the time he had done up the last buckle, people had begun to move on.

"Don't you love them?" she asked, standing and twirling for his benefit.

"Oh yes," he said softly, standing and giving the salesgirl his credit card, not quite looking her in the eye. His foot-goddess hadn't asked him to pay, of course, but he knew it was expected, and worship had its price. She smiled sweetly at him and gave him a wink which promised rewards later. She left her new shoes on and gave him her old ones to carry, then took his arm again and they left the store. This time, at last, she led him to the car park, and used her keys to buzz open her cute sporty little red car.

He got into the passenger's seat, and she slid into the driver's side, then swung her feet over into his lap. "Take my new shoes off, lover," she said. "I don't like to drive in heels."

Andrew undid the buckles and eased her feet from the new shoes, one at a time, placing them back in his lap, where she rubbed them gently against his rapidly-stiffening cock. He left one foot there to continue its magic, and liften the other one by the ankle, far enough that he could kiss the underside of her big toe, then slowly plunge his mouth down over it, sucking gently on her toe, tasting the slightly acrid nail polish and the ever-so-slightly musty taste of her feet. She let him go until his dick was hard as a rock, then firmly withdrew her foot from his mouth, and swung back into position, firing the ignition as she did so.

The trip to her place took about twenty-five minutes, but Andrew lost track of both time and direction, watching her bare foot working the clutch, flicking over to the brake, and back to the clutch again. Every move seemed to emphasise a different curve of her feet, and just occasionally the car's position would allow a ray of sunlight to reflect from her toe ring, dazzling him. For her part, she remained silent, letting him enjoy the show.

Soon enough, they arrived at her place and she let him in. "I'm going to go change," she said. "Why don't you go kneel near the couch and wait for me."

After the indignity of kneeling to kiss her feet in the shopping centre, kneeling by the couch was no trouble at all. He dropped to his knees and waited, ears straining for the sound of her, his eyes looking around the inexpensively but tastefully decorated living room. Soon enough, he heard the muffled click-clacking of heels on carpet. He cast his eyes downward, and sensed rather than saw her standing over him.

"So, darling," she half-said, half-whispered. Do you like my outfit?

His eyes drifted upwards, and his jaw suddenly dropped. She was a dream in black, a tight velvet teddy covering her ... wrapping her, lace accentuating the look just so, long black stockings running down to a pair of gorgeous black high heels. "My god yes," he breathed. "You are beyond delicious."

"Well," she said, half-teasing and half-mocking. "If you undress for me, perhaps I can thank you for buying me those shoes.

Andrew couldn't undress quickly enough. His fingers fumbled with his belt. and his tie threatened to choke him, but within a minute - sixty seconds which seemed to him like two years - he was undressed, his cock rock hard and testifying to her utter sexiness. He dropped back to his knees before her, where she had settled on the couch.

Silently, she lifted one foot towards him, touching it to his navel and slowly, carefully tracing it up his body until her shoe caressed the side of his face. Relaxing her foot a little, she dropped it onto his shoulder, and started the same slow, gentle, caressing tease with the other shoe, over the slight swell of his stomach, pressing just a tiny bit harder over his nipples, along the line of his chin, and finally settling, so that both of her feet were on his shoulders.

Andrew turned his head gently to kiss the exposed, stocking-clad sides of her feet gently, first her left foot, then her right. She sighed happily, then began using her ankles to draw him in, closer and closer to her pussy, until his nose just touched, ever so barely, the satin of her lingerie. One final tightening of her ankles, and he found himself pressed urgently into her. He began, slowly, using his now, his lips, his tongue, to tease and caress her through the smooth satin, the moisture from his tongue combining with the moisture from her pussy to soak the sating from both sides. Writhing, she reached down to pull aside the satin-and-lace panel and he responded with long, slow licks up and down the soft, pink, shaved lips of her pussy. She tasted like honey, and he wanted more.

She responded to his enthusiasm with soft, heavy breathing which soon led to a catch in her throat and strained, almost reluctant moans. He stiffened his tongue and slowly, delicately fucked her with it, swirling it on the inside of her pussy, and moving his whole face so that his nose ever so gently teased her clit. That did the trick. She was moaning with abandon now, all restraint gone, her legs locking tighter and tighter, vice-like around him. He didn't need to be encouraged, let alone forced, but she liked holding him there anyway.

Andrew started alternating between tongue-fucking her and sucking, gently at first then harder, directly on her clit. Soon, he began to feel involuntary trembling in the legs locked around him, and felt the pulsing muscles around her pussy shudder. Suddenly, like a wave breaking, she started cumming, holding him in place, wailing an inarticulate cry of sexual joy, moaning for more, more, more, until it began to hurt and her legs released him, and she rolled away, panting deliriously, trying to catch her breath and get her mind working again.

She reached down and took him by the chin, lifting his eyes to meet hers.

"That," she said, "was fantastic." He blushed, and whispered. "I hope so."

Little by little, she recovered and sat on the couch upright, her long legs crossed, Andrew still kneeling naked in front of her. One heel had slipped from her shoe, and ti hung delicately from her toes, seeming ready to fall at any moment. He watched, transfixed, and she noticed. "Darling, " she said softly. "I want you to slide that gorgeous cock of yours between the sole of my foot, and the sole of my shoe."

His eyes widened, and he kneeled up higher to try to bring his penis in line with the shoe. She teased him a little, just moving the shoe far enough to make him chase her, but eventually she let him slip it between her foot and her shoe. Andrew was in heaven. The soft, soft skin of her foot was so warm and smooth, and the leatherof her shoe just rough enough to stimulate. He started stroking his cock in and out, fucking her foot, fucking her shoes.

She bit her lip, watching. It was a fantastic, highly erotic sight. She started moving her foot against, him, offering counterstrokes, intensifying the feeling. Andrew's pace increased, but his rhythm grew ragged. He was trying desperately to restrain, to hold on, to prolong the moment, but it had been such an erotic few hours. "Oh, fuck," he whispered. "Oh, fuck yes."

He moaned, loud, and she responded. "Cum, you sexy fucking footslave! Cum on my foot, and my shoe. Spray it, spray it now!"

With a final moan, and a final thrust, his cock exploded, showering cum onto her foot, her shoe, her leg, the carpet. Andrew continued to thrust, moaning so hard he was sobbing, stroking his cock through the cum on her shoe, until she pulled it away, ran her little finger through one patch of cum, and put it to her lips. Yum.

She stood, then, cum oozing out from beneath her foot. She drew him up to stand, and placed a soft kiss on his lips, a goodbye until next time. "Thank you," he whispered, and dressed for home.

In the cab, heading for his place, his phone buzzed again. "Don't make plans for Friday afternoon, little boy," he read. "We have a date."