Holly's Seductive Toes Ch. 02

byBacomicfan©

I laughed, too, though my heart wasn't in it. Frustration isn't a good precursor to humor. My launch sequence had been initiated, and the boosters, though not yet at full blastoff level, were nonetheless having trouble powering down. Which, again, amused Holly no end.

I sat there throughout the remainder of the drive with my penis hanging out of my pants. Every now and then, Holly looked over at it, smiling at it's slowly deflating state. Her twinkling eyes would then look up into mine. Her eyes held all the power, mine held only compliance.

"We're here," she said, finally. I looked around and saw the rustic looking restaurant with it's country store appearance. It looked like a large log cabin. "They have the best food here," she said, "and nice roomy booths where I can play footsie with you." She winked. "Now," she said, pointing, "put that away. I'll play with it later. Right now, let's go eat. I'm famished. But first, gather up my shoes and come around to my side of the car and put them on my feet for me. And open my door for me like a perfect gentleman."

I found both her shoes and did as she "asked." I fumbled with the driver side door, because my hands were shaky and still sweating just a bit. When I finally got it open, she swung around on the seat, an amused grin once again inhabiting her face. When I knelt on the asphalt beside her to place her shoes on her feet, she said nothing...but with a sudden flurry of movement, I unexpectedly found my face full of nylon and wiggling toes. Holly laughed gleefully as she pushed both feet into my face, shoving her toes against my nose and mouth, forcing my head backward. I wasn't prepared for it, and fell backward against the door, gaining my equilibrium only an instant before flailing wildly to the ground. Even as I was on the verge of falling on my back on the pavement, my only thought was to protect Holly's shoes from getting dirty, so I caught myself with my empty hand.

Not one to let my surprised state deter her, Holly once again propelled her arrogant feet directly into my face, this time not quite as hard, perhaps, but still determined to have their way. As I gained my balance and focused, she continued as if I'd never been taken by surprise at her dual soles-in-the-face attack. "Sniff my pretty feet, foot boy," she chortled. "Sniff sniff! Get a good whiff! You know you want to!" She was excited, giddy. As she mashed my face with her demanding toes and soles, she was laughing so hard that tears began to stream from her eyes and she could barely catch her breath.

I finally captured her feet with my hands and held them firmly. Her shoes dangled by the heels in my left hand, so my right had a firmer grip on her left stockinged foot, just behind her ankle. With Holly laughing in the background, I pressed my nostrils against the undersides of her toes and inhaled their scent. She enjoyed every second of this...very, very much...for she sighed even as she giggled. I was sighing, too, once again bathing her feet with my panting breath.

But since power was Holly's thing, she didn't approve of the fact that I'd taken control of the foot sniffing. SHE wanted to be the one running the show. So she quickly wrenched her feet from my hands and immediately shoved them back into my face the way SHE thought it should be done. Once again she smashed them into my mouth and cheeks, rubbing her nyloned soles briskly all over my reddening face. Her evil cackle rose in a seemingly never-ending crescendo, which began to worry me since we were in a restaurant parking lot.

"Mmm...good boy. I just love how eager you are to make me happy. Now you can put my shoes on, and we'll go eat." Apparently, Holly's whims were appeased for the moment. But, for just a few seconds before letting me put her shoes on her feet, she rested them on my shoulders, a self satisfied grin on her face as she examined by pink face and disheveled hair.

She finally lowered her feet and allowed me to encase them in their sexy high heeled pumps. Then I stood up and backed away, holding the door open for her. She got out of the car, still smiling widely, and kissed me on the cheek. Together, we walked toward the restaurant. As we walked, Holly reached behind me and squeezed my ass, openly groping both cheeks one at a time with her right hand. She had a definite spring in her step. She only stopped fondling my butt long enough to smooth out my hair where her feet had made a mess of it. When that was done, her hand returned to its fascination with my buns.

"You'll love this place," she said, "and I'll want you to kiss my feet throughout the meal. And I'll be playing with you in other ways, too, just to get you hot and horny for later. I love when men are horny. They're so easy to control when they're like that."

When she saw the concerned look on my face, she added, "Oh, we'll try to be discreet, of course. But if someone should catch you smooching my toes, I don't consider that a valid reason for you to stop. The way I see it, you should never be embarrassed to kiss my feet...no matter who might see you. I think keeping me happy should be more important to you than your own macho pride. Don't you agree?"

Again those dark eyes locked onto mine. They waited for their answer...and it had damn well better be the RIGHT answer, too. My tongue was dry and stuck to the roof of my mouth, so I just nodded my agreement, though a cold shiver shook me to the core. I'd just given Holly, the High Queen of the Underworld, a green light to humiliate me in public if the whim struck her.

I tried again to say something to her - I don't know what, for I knew it was no good to try to contradict her - but we'd gotten to the entrance, and Holly was already looking at me with that "Well....why aren't you doing such and such?" look of hers, expecting me to do something. I squelched my unspoken comment, and in a second or two I realized she wanted me to open the door for her. Fumbling again, I grabbed the long wooden rod in the shape of a miniature building log that was the door's handle. I pulled the large oak door open, holding it for her as she strutted through to the dimly lit interior of the Boogaloo Crick Ale and Steakhouse. As always when I was with Holly, I was filled with both apprehension...and a vibrant tingle of excitement. Thursday evenings were apparently only a moderately busy night for Boogaloo Crick. Although there was quite a bustle of activity going on, there was no wait to be seated. As the waitress was gathering up menus in preparation for seating us, Holly took her aside and spoke quietly to her, glancing over at me as she did. The waitress looked at me, too, then nodded and smiled. When she got us to our table and slid the menus onto it, she looked at me one last time, still smiling.

"This private enough?" she asked Holly.

"Yes, thank you," she replied, "this'll do nicely."

"Great," the waitress said, "would either of you like something to drink to start off?"

"I'll have coffee, thanks," Holly said, slipping her purse off her shoulder and putting it on the seat of the wood and fabric booth. "Do you want anything, foot...uh...Tom?" she asked, covering her amused lips with manicured fingertips at the near slip. With an undisguised smirk on her face, she sat in her seat next to her purse.

"I'll have coffee, too, thanks," I said, sure that I had to be blushing. I looked into Holly's eyes, wondering if the near slip was on purpose or not. Was it an accident, or just another way for her to embarrass and humble me for her own amusement? I sat in my own seat, across from her, still looking into her dark, mischievous eyes.

One last time the waitress smiled at me...a knowing smile that sent a chill down my spine. When she finally walked away, I could swear I heard her chuckling quietly, see her shoulders bobbing with the force of that stifled laugh.

"What did you say to her," I asked as soon as she was out of earshot, "when she was getting the menus?"

"Oh," Holly replied with a grin, "I just told her you're my boy toy for the evening, and that we wanted privacy...that's all."

I looked at her, shocked, though I don't know why that shocked me. My wide eyed look apparently once again amused her, because she said in a motherly tone, "Oh, relax, I never said you were my foot boy...or that you'd be licking my toes during dinner...or..." she winked, "licking something else AFTER dinner." Her tongue snuck out between her smiling lips and her eyes twinkled. She was once more enjoying herself immensely. All I could do was blush and look away, embarrassed but turned on more than likely as much as Holly was.

The next few minutes we engaged in small talk. Holly wanted to know if I'd missed her since our first meeting, and I told her I had. She liked that. She also asked me if I still had her stockings, and I must have blushed when I said yes. She pried and prodded until I admitted that I slept with them and spent a good deal of time worshipping them. Her eyes lit up like neon lights when I admitted that. But she didn't make a big deal out of it...just stored the information, as she did so much information. Holly never seemed to forget anything....especially if it was something that could turn out to be useful later.

I was probably still blushing from my stocking confession when the waitress returned with our coffee. She smiled politely as she handed Holly her steaming cup and creamers, but once again grinned knowingly when she gave me mine. Now knowing what Holly had told her about me, my crimson hue must've increased fourfold as I noticed those informed eyes twinkling almost as impishly as Holly's own.

"Ready to order?" the waitress asked, still smiling, looking me up and down as if I was one of the entrees on Boogaloo Crick's menu.

"I believe we are," Holly replied. She immediately ordered her meal and when through, handed her menu back to the waitress. I followed suit, ordering what I wanted. With a slight tremble in my hand, I also handed my menu back to the waitress. I smiled a sheepish smile, and the waitress's returned smile was a tightlipped one that fought desperately to hold something back. I could only guess what. Off she went to give the chef our orders so she could eventually, hopefully soon, bring us our food.

The waitress wasn't gone thirty seconds when I heard Holly's shoes clunk to the floor. I looked into her eyes and she smiled. "I see your radar is still working just fine," she grinned. I blushed again, but I was by now getting used to being embarrassed in Holly's presence, so I don't think the hue was nearly as intense as in the past. At least my face didn't feel quite as hot this time.

I felt two distinct thumps, one on each of my thighs. I knew what I would see when I looked down, and I was exactly right. But I didn't congratulate myself, because it was pretty much a no brainer. There, frolicking to and fro on my lap, were the two feet I'd come to know quite intimately in just the past few days.

I looked at Holly's twinkling eyes. "You know what to do," she said, "massage my feet while we wait for our food. And give them a really nice rub...firm and soothing. There's nothing in this world better than a really forceful foot rub. My feet can really use some t.l.c. right now." She waited about ten seconds, her smiling at me, and me smiling back...and then giggled, saying, "Hop to it, foot boy...rub my feet. Get cracking." Being bossy seemed to charge Holly's entire body with crackling energy, a kind of kinetic energy that hummed inside her until it found the proper outlet. I wondered with mixed dread and anticipation just what that outlet would eventually be.

Instinct made me look around as I took her feet one at a time in my hands and massaged them. Holly sat back and cooed and sighed, being none too quiet about it. So, though I kept rubbing, I also kept looking around to see if anyone was noticing either my hands on Holly's feet, or her undisguised sighs and moans.

"Oh, you are such a good foot boy," she said aloud, making the hairs on my neck stand on end nervously. A chill shot down my spine as my eyes darted from corner to corner of the restaurant, knowing that SOMEONE must've heard her say that.

"Oh," Holly said, smirking, "did I say that out loud? I'm such a bad girl." She made no attempt to hide her giggle, watching with joy as I squirmed in my seat. Then, in a whisper, she added, "Is this better, foot boy? After all, I wouldn't want my foot boy embarrassed that he's rubbing my feet in a public place, now would I?"

"Holly," I fumbled, "I'm not embarrassed to rub your feet...honest. I'm..well...proud, actually. It's just that...well...."

"No need to explain, hon. I fully understand. I just enjoy making you fidget and worry. It keeps you humble. I like my men humble. But, then, you know that. I'll try not to be quite so vocal anymore." The wink that followed led me to believe that the impish Holly wasn't being entirely truthful.

"Oh...thank you." I breathed a cautious sigh of relief. Even as I thought I'd gotten off easily, another chill danced along my spine...for Holly was again grinning. With all the grinning this woman does, I thought, how is it her mouth isn't frozen in a PERMANENT smirk?

"You're quite welcome, foot boy," she said, in a louder whisper than I would've liked. "But, since I was so nice to you, you can be nice to me in return." Another shiver backpacked from the base of my skull to the tip of my tailbone. I looked at Holly, knowing I was in trouble.

Her feet jumped from my hands. I looked down, beads of sweat racing downward from my temples. Holly had lifted her feet as high as she could, until her insteps were stopped by the underside of the table. Ten painted toes wiggled as if they were ten independent life forms. I knew this couldn't be good. Or rather...it was bad, but in a wickedly good way.

"Smooch time, foot boy. Kiss my toes nice. Your firm hands have my toes all jazzed up and wanting more. So bend down and kiss my feet like a good boy."

My head was halfway down to those animated toes, my eyes looking to my left to see if anyone was watching or if the waitress was bringing our food at precisely that instant, as would normally be my luck. Seeing no one, I let my eyes focus on the needy toes. But before my lips were even fully puckered, Holly again switched gears on me.

"No...wait!" she said, in another loud, excited whisper. "LICK my toes! Yes....lick them. Lick all along that seam at the tips of my toes. Oh, that'll be so hot to watch....you licking the toe seam of my stockings. Oh, yes....do lick my toes!" She was so excited she could barely contain herself. I noticed that her pupils were dilated as she watched her own toes waiting for my tongue. She herself was fidgeting now.

Now I KNEW someone HAD to be watching, and laughing their asses off. But another quick glance about showed me that my public humiliation was once again to be delayed...but how long could I keep outrunning fate?

"Lick, lick, lick, foot boy! C'mon...my toes are getting impatient. Besides, the waitress could return any second now. And I positively WON'T let you stop licking until you've licked all along the toe seams of BOTH feet, the entire length of it. Even if the waitress comes back, or if other customers come in, you can't stop licking until you're done...so you better get going!" She was as animated as when she'd shoved her feet in my face in the parking lot. She was so giddy and ecstatic that I just knew she had to be getting wet. And THAT made my inhibitions recede a bit...but ONLY a bit.

Still nervously looking about, I stuck out my tongue and began to lick along Holly's toe seam, my tongue again feeling that now familiar nylon sensation. I licked quickly along the row of toes, from one end of the seam to the other...from little toe to big. Then I moved to the other foot, licking from big toe to small. When I was done, I sat back up and looked around. Thankfully, no waitress, and not customers. My luck was much better than usual. Or so I thought.

"Oh, you're too quick," Holly pouted. Then her face lit up again. "So...now you have to SUCK my toes. Suck my stockinged toes. Make it a sloppy, wet suck, too. I want to feel it through the nylon. Go on, suck my toes right here in Boogaloo Crick!"

I looked up at her with a "hey, that's unfair!" look. After all, I had done what she asked, but now she was changing the rules. It really wasn't fair...but that meant nothing to Holly. Apparently, to her, "fair" was just a concept...meant to be exercised by others, but not by the Goddess Holly. Maybe the word wasn't even in her vocabulary.

"Oh, all right," she sighed, "you still have to suck my toes, but if you do it before anyone sees, then we'll eat our meal without you having to do anything to my feet. Well, except massage them, of course. That you MUST do. But I won't embarrass you by making you kiss or lick or suck my feet again...at least not while we're in the restaurant. So, go on...suck my toes now...before someone sees."

Another nervous look around, and I plunged her right foot into my mouth, sucking all five toes at once. I did as she wanted, making sure I slurped her toes wetly, while doing it as quickly as I could. Then I did the same to her left foot. The toes of her stockings were drenched with my saliva and clinging to her toes by the time I was done. My mouth vibrated from the nylon and the excited movement of her toes inside it. Looking about again, I wiped my mouth and looked at Holly. She grinned from ear to ear. Satisfied...finally...for now...she lowered her feet back down onto my lap. I couldn't tell which was more satisfying to me...her contented grin, or the long, drawn out sigh that accompanied it.

And when I turned my head to the left, I saw our waitress bringing our food. She was about thirty feet away...grinning. I knew in an instant that she must've seen me feasting on Holly's toes. I felt as if my face was in a furnace...hot and sizzling. I even imagined flames and smoke rising from my scarlet cheeks.

"Here's your order," she said, placing Holly's plate in front of her, and then mine in front of me. With a grin and two sly winks - one first at Holly and then one at me - she added, her eyes focused on mine, "That is, if you're still hungry." Holly almost choked, she laughed so hard. I was too embarrassed to laugh, rubbing my red, burning face with my hands and looking sheepishly toward the window. Pleased with her joke, the waitress then asked, very professionally, "Is there anything else I can get for you?" Holly shook her head, still recovering from her laughing fit. I just kept looking at the window. The waitress chuckled as she walked away.

"Well, I think I like her," Holly said. "I do believe I'll give her a nice tip...for her help in finding a lonely, quiet booth, and for her wonderful sense of humor. Don't you think she's just lovely?"

"Yeah," was all I could say. My mind was still battling the stark vision of my facial flesh melting off my skull in liquid sheets from the heat generated by my embarrassment.

What followed was, thankfully, a more normal period of time. We ate like any other couple, enjoying our meal. The only difference was the conversation. Holly, it seemed, could talk about fetish sex and kinky ideas as if she were discussing her favorite cooking recipes or the next week's weather. Most of what she talked about I'd never heard of before. Some of it boggled me, some amazed me, some titillated me. But all of it interested me on one level or another. Holly was a fascinating woman, who spoke openly of her sexual tastes and desires. She showed no embarrassment, no apprehension at discussing almost any form of sex.

It was truly a learning experience. Aside from what we had done together in her car a few days ago, I had learned more about Holly and kinky sex in that last hour than I had in my half dozen years since puberty had kicked in. She was an incredible person, and was not shy about anything...not even the words she used to describe things. She didn't worry about being "polite." She called a spade a spade. A cock was a cock...not a penis. She talked about things she liked being done to her pussy as if she was talking about which perfume she preferred. She was living, breathing sex...of a decidedly different nature. And I was fascinated, and turned on, by every word she spoke.

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