The Foot Massage

Every year my wife and I attend the annual Hospital Foundation Gala. I look forward to it every year. The food is great, the open bars flow freely, and the room is full of beautiful women between 25 and 40, dressed to impress in their sexy best.

As an added bonus, this year I escorted two beautiful women. My wife's best friend Michelle was in town for Gala. Her husband was on a boys' weekend trip, and my wife invited her to spend the weekend with us. My wife went to high school with Michelle. Although they attended different colleges, they remain best friends. Michelle and her husband moved to Dallas about 2 years ago. I like Michelle. We get along well, but I have never felt like I have really gotten to know her. She is stunningly beautiful and grew up in a wealthy, but troubled family. Probably because of that environment, she seems a little insecure, which can come off as being a little bitchy if you do not know better. Her insecurity is a little ironic since she is a beautiful and smart woman, who is one of the rising stars in the corporate law department where she works as an in house lawyer. I have always kind of had a harmless crush on her, but could never tell what she thought about me. She has beautiful long blonde hair and could pass for my wife's sister, except she is relatively petite in comparison to my willowy 5'9" wife.

I was already dressed in a suit from work, so I waited downstairs while the girls finished dressing. I could hear them talking and laughing from upstairs. Finally, I heard the sound of their high heels clicking as they came down the stairs. Wow! They both looked stunning. My wife was wearing a short tomato red knit dress over black matte super opaque tights and black suede Sam Edelman t-strap platform pumps with 5 inch heels. Michelle looked just as stunning, and her outfit may have even been a little more edgy. She had on a dark gray ultra-suede dress that had a fitted bodice and flared out at her waist with a short skirt. Michelle also had on black out tights with the sexiest black suede booties I have ever seen. They had a one inch hidden platform, an almond toe, and a sky high stiletto heel. They snuggly followed the contour of her foot up her ankle with a suede fringe on the back zipper. I had to try not to stare so much as to cross the line into creepy territory. Dallas was treating Michelle well, and she seemed to want to flaunt it tonight.

The Gala was a mob scene as usual. I hung back, visited with friends, and had a few cocktails while I enjoyed the eye candy. The girls browsed the silent auction items. I kept the girls supplied with drinks and checked in with them every now and then until they tired of shopping and joined me. The band started, the drinks flowed, the party really started. After about another hour of a lot of drinking and a little dancing, we decided to head home for a night cap or two on the sofa.

The girls were more than a little tipsy when our Uber pulled in front of the house, and we piled out. Michelle and my wife plopped down in the den while I poured us all more wine and joined them, sitting on the other end of the sofa from Michelle. As I sat down, Michelle exclaimed "my feet are killing me from standing on that concrete floor in these heels"

"Jeff gives an awesome foot massage," responded my beautiful and generous wife with a knowing side glance that said "you owe me."

Much to my delight, Michelle swung her legs onto the sofa and into my lap. "I accept your kind offer," she said with wine driven laughter as she reclined against the sofa arm.

I was beside myself with perverted glee as I tried to not to show my excitement. I slowly lifted her foot, unzipped the back of her exquisite bootie, and slid it off, exposing her dainty size 7, tights coated feet to the cool air. She exhaled with relief. I repeated the same enchanting ritual with the other bootie, placing it on the floor leaving her feet in my lap. Her tights were darkened at her feet by perspiration from standing and dancing within the suede confines of the booties. I picked up her foot and began to rub it softly through the damp smoothness of the tights. The sweet scent of the new suede enhanced with the dewy moisture from her feet was subtle, but intoxicating.

She was very sensitive and ticklish initially, moving her foot on reflex and pointing her tights cover toes like a ballerina. Trying not to show how turned on that made me; I held her foot firmly until she became more accustomed to my touch. I increase the pressure, kneading the bottoms of her feet. "That feels great," she purred, her eyes now closed as she reclined.

I felt her other foot brush slightly against the swelling bulge in my pants, never to know whether it was intentional or not. I repositioned myself at the end of the sofa and rubbed her toes through the smooth blackness of her tights, working my way down to the ball of her foot as she moaned contently. I then gently rubbed her high arch, which gave her foot a graceful artistic beauty under the black tights that hugged her arch like a black second skin. Encouraged by the sounds of pleasure, I moved to her heel, using my knuckles to massage deeply into the tissue of her heel. My knuckles slid over her tights from pressure point to pressure point in her heel. Her sounds of appreciation became almost sexual, much to my delight.

I switched to her other foot, as she again left me wondering whether the pressure from her foot on my lap was intentional or not. I tried to look at her face for any hints of intent while I began massaging the other foot. She simply purred with pleasure with her eyes lightly closed and listened to my wife share the latest gossip. I lifted her other foot up in front of me and worked my way down, kneading deeply into her muscles as she was now fully accustomed to my touch and was luxuriating in a deep state of relaxation, relief, and pleasure. I breathed deeply, inhaling more of the delicious perfume dampening her tights.

My wife looked on with vicarious pleasure derived from Michelle's almost orgasmic satisfaction and from an acute awareness of my own perverted delight with the tights covered toys that she had given me. With mischief in her eyes, she raised the stakes, "you should have him massage your feet with lotion. That feels even better."

Further encouraging her friend who was still reclining in pleasure while I continued to deeply knead her heel, my wife stood up and walked to the kitchen to retrieve a tube of "peppermint foot butter" she keeps in the kitchen. She bounded back into the room and playfully wiggled it in front of Michelle's face as she opened her eyes sleepily. "You have to try this stuff. It feels fantastic. Let him rub your feet with it."

"I am game."

Michelle slowly pulled her feet back form my lap, again grazing over my confined, but now full erection, seemingly ever clever to keep me guessing whether it was incidental. Using her feet as leverage she somewhat drunkenly raised her bottom off of the sofa, reached under her skirt, and pulled her tights down to above her knees, nonchalantly giving me a virtually full view of black satin thong. The view only served to heighten my arousal from this highly erotic evening. She then gave me an even better view when she sat back down, lifted her legs, and peeled the black tights down her legs and off of her feet, freeing them for further attention from my eager hands. She placed the tights on the floor next to her booties, and returned her feet to my lap. Her highly erotic dance left me wondering whether she was intentionally teasing me or whether she was just drunkenly trying to take her control top tights off, with me as the beneficiary of her inadvertent peep show.

My wickedly enabling wife brought me a towel for my lap so I would not get the lotion on my suit pants. I squeezed a large dollop of the peppermint lotion onto my hand and began to gently coat Michelle's foot with the cool fragrant lotion. "It feels cool and tingly, very nice," she cooed.

Once I had Michelle's foot slippery with lotion, I began to vigorously rub her foot up and down her foot almost like I was jacking her foot off. The slippery sounds of my hand sliding up and down her foot combined with the sounds of pleasure from her lips were obscenely sensual. My wife watched Michelle with voyeuristic fascination as Michelle closed her eyes and her mouth hung slightly open.

Urged on by her soft moans and driven by my intense craving to give her pleasure, I moved to the end of the sofa so I could massage the lotion into the bottom of her foot. Her naked foot was beautiful. It was soft and dainty with cute, plump bubble toes topped with girly pink painted nails. I pressed my fingers between her toes and rubbed the balls of her foot, sliding my fingers along the pressure points with the benefit of the slippery lotion. I dug deeply into her foot to try to separate and stretch her muscle fibers to ease all of the stored tension and the soreness from standing in her sexy, sky high stiletto booties.

I listened carefully to her breathing and the soft sounds coming from her supple open mouth to insure that I was using the right amount of pressure. I was fully engage in her pleasure as I softly grabbed her toes and folded them back and forth before moving them around in a circle to loosen them up. I gripped the front of her foot with one hand and the back with the other and rotated her foot in my hand, resulting in louder moans as more tension left her foot accompanied by the soft cracking of her joints releasing stress. I then used some reflexology techniques on the bottom of her foot which brought forth further sounds of pleasure. I felt a heightened intimacy with her. Giving her this very personal pleasure seemed to connect us on a deeper level.

"You are amazing" she slurred softly. "My husband would never spend this much time rubbing my feet. I am going to have to visit more often."

"You are welcome anytime, although I am a little jealous of the foot rub. He really is great with his hands," my wife replied, seemingly trying to teasingly raise the sexual tension already in the room. "I am next," she replied as she reached under her dress and peeled off her tights.

"I am not going to give him up that easily," Michelle whispered, entranced in the pleasure of my touch.

I was in no hurry to let go of her yummy little feet and the thrill of her soft sounds of pleasure. I worked on the bottom of her foot for a few more minutes and then gently put her foot down and picked up the other foot. My inner impression that her pleasure was bordering on sexual were confirmed when I picked up her other foot, "inadvertently" spreading her legs and providing a secret peak at the crotch of her black thong. Much to my delight, it was soaked through giving away her secret arousal. There could be no better motivation as I continued to repeat my performance on the other foot, drawing purrs, moans, and more verbal praise for my efforts. Her reactions left me furiously wondering what she was thinking about behind her softly closed eyes.

My wife loves a foot massage, but I had never experienced someone with this level of sensitivity. Massaging Michelle's beautiful feet was like playing a human musical instrument. Once she was completely relaxed, every deep stroke or other pressure drew a soft response of appreciation and pleasure. As the now enthralled giver, I could only fantasize about how wonderful it would be to massage all of the other areas of this wonderfully soft, sensitive, and seductive creature. I had the sneaking suspicion that my wife knew that Michelle was highly sensitive and responsive and had given this wonderful experience to me as a gift to my perverse nature. I am sure she also knew I would thank her appropriately for her loving generosity.

As I worked my fingertips into the bottom of her foot, Michelle was now almost humming with soft moans of pleasure with her mouth hanging open and her bottom lip in a soft, alluring pout. I was now addicted to her response and kept going for another 10 minutes going up and down her beautiful foot repeating the deep massage into her foot with my fingertips, before backing off and finishing by gently rubbing lotion over her now supple, relaxed, and buttery smooth foot while my wife looked on.

Michelle was almost asleep when I began to reluctantly ease my efforts. My wife gently woke her "I am going to bed; I want a raincheck on my turn until tomorrow night."

Michelle stirred, coming back into consciousness as I dried the excess lotion off of her lovely foot with the towel. "Fuck that was better than sex. Thank you!"

"He's pretty damn good at that too!," my wife teased, again naughtily toying with the sexual tension in the room.

Michelle leaned down to give me a sleepy hug, surprising me with a kiss ambiguously between my cheek and my lips and a squeeze that went beyond any prior connection we had ever had.

I slowly got up off of the sofa and followed them upstairs, Michelle sadly to the guest room and me and my wife to our room.

When I returned to the bed from washing my face and brushing my teeth, my wife reached under her red dress and removed her black bikini panties and handed them to me with a knowing smile. "You are going to sleep in these tonight, and I am going to get my time tomorrow. I might even let you come, but probably not." Resigned to my fate that there would be no relief tonight, I pulled on the panties and snuggly compressed my sadly swollen member beneath the black satiny fabric, only then realizing that the crotch of the panties was soaking wet from my wife's enjoyment of her voyeuristic viewing of her friend's nightcap of pleasure.

In my dreams that night, my wife and I ravaged Michelle's beautiful, soft, sensitive, naked body with our mouths and hands, drawing guttural moans and sensual screams of pleasure as she climaxed over and over. Our efforts concluded with my wife's mouth covering Michelle's smoothly shaved mound, her tongue rhythmically dancing across Michelle's clit as she impaled Michelle with her fingers and stroked the spongey pleasure spot at the top of her buttery pussy. We both held her quaking body tightly as her sphincter spasmed and gripped my probing tongue before she exploded in a final crashing climax.

In reality, I am up early while the girls sleep in, locked in the downstairs bathroom. I am wearing my wife's black tights, pilfered from the den floor and pulled down in the front with one foot of Michelle's tights over my cock and the other one held in my mouth. I pitifully fuck the inside of Michelle's sexy black suede bootie with my tights covered cock and inhale the sweet perfume of the dried perspiration on the other foot of Michelle's tights dangling below my nose. I am overcome with perverted pleasure from the thrusts into the toe of her bootie, but not allowed to finish because of my wife's command. My queen maintains the power to give me pleasure and the power to take it away.