Working for Alex

Somehow I managed to survive the balance of the day and return to the job at hand, putting my momentary lapse behind me. Alex went about her chores and the two of us co-existed peacefully. Since she had no time to look for an apartment I offered to let her stay another night. With her sleeping down the hall from me I found it almost impossible to sleep and when I finally fell into the throes of slumber I dreamed of serving those legs with the devotion they deserved.

The next morning, I watched the clock tick by, anticipating her break. Eagerly waiting, I was hoping for a repeat performance and a chance to view those delectable legs again. Nothing seemed more important than seeing those lovely feet and more importantly, watch her expose those exquisite legs again. Disappointment sank in as I realized that touching up her nails was not a daily task.

The next time she worked on her nails, a few days later, I moved closer, watching from the doorway, still hidden, or so I thought. The angle was good and I was able to get a peek between her legs. It looked like she wore plain, white, cotton panties. For some reason, I expected something a little more exotic, a silk thong or a satin French cut, but after further consideration, the cotton briefs seemed more suitable to her earthy appearance.

The third time she retired to the envied task I put my fears aside and boldly joined her. The final touches were being applied to her fingernails when I walked in on her. Once again, she sat on the couch, the beautiful, expensive leather couch. The television was tuned to some soap opera when she started on the toenails.

Sort of sneaking in, I used my anonymity to observe the proceedings. The thin, flowered skirt rode mid-way up her thigh revealing her perfect leg. By now, I had grown enamored with the luscious legs. Using every opportunity I could, I snuck quick glimpses at the gorgeous gams whenever I thought she wasn't watching.

One of my favorite images, the one I fantasized about in the shower, was the time Alex bent from the waist as she filed away some reports. The cabinets, fortunately, are placed directly in front of my desk, to the side of the door. As she bent from the waist, the cooperative skirt rose from just above the knee to almost the bottom of her bottom, revealing the perfect gams and giving me a terrific shot at her equally gorgeous derriere.

It seemed that every time I saw her she seemed sexier, even more desirable. Maybe it was the fact that she hardly wore anything but a simple sun-dress and panties. How did I come to find out that that was all she wore? Discovering she went braless was purely accidental.

One afternoon, as she picked up a file from my to-do box, Alex bent over the desk just a little to ask me where it went. Quite by accident, my eyes wandered to the gap exposed by her posture. Naturally, gravity caused the top of her dress to reach for the ground providing me with a spectacular view of her rounded mounds, not quite to the nipples. Full, supple, enticing, and quite delicious looking, her breasts only added to the enchantment she was weaving around me.

After that stupendous moment, I paid more attention to the area, drawing my salacious eyes up from her lower extremities. Sometimes, if I concentrated, I could just make out the dark areolas beneath the thin fabric of her skimpy sun-dresses.

"Need any help with that?" I asked cavalierly, pointing to her feet as she strained to reach the toenails. Fortunately, the more she reached, the further up her thigh the skirt rode. Tipping my head slightly, I could just make out the white panties. Naturally, I was besotted with unbridled lust.

Alex looked up at me. Her stare was as intense as it was strange. It seemed apparent that that I could see practically all of her but she didn't seem to care.

"Sure. I need the rest." She handed me the brush and leaned backwards, settling into the comfort of the couch. Her eyes studied me intently as though measuring my worthiness. "You can finish, but do a good job."

Like an eager student, I took the tiny brush and the jar of polish from her hands. Having not thought this part out, I hesitated for a moment trying to decide the best position to perform my task. Since her feet were on the ottoman, the floor seemed the logical spot to be so I sat down, directly in front of her and waited for instructions.

"Have you done this before?" she asked as she placed a bare foot in my lap. The sensation of her skin against my trousers caused an immediate reaction and my little guy stirred against her heel.

Some tiny section of my brain went numb and I felt somewhat subdued.

"No. Not really," I stammered, holding back the fact that at one time I used to play around with polish on my own feet and fingers. Sitting at her feet, gazing up at her, I felt like a pauper kneeling before his queen. There was something humbling about my position yet very befitting, as though I was finally where I belonged.

"Well, I'll direct you this time but you need to learn quickly. I don't tolerate slow learners." She had an imperial manner and I obeyed, willingly beginning my task with the humility and devotion it required.

Holding her beautiful foot in one hand like a precious jewel, I leaned over, getting closer, to apply the clear polish. A scent of ambrosia came to me and I felt the beginnings of intoxication. Licking my lips, and with solemn deliberation, I was very careful applying the polish, taking my time, making a special effort to do it correctly. My body, as well as my mind, detached itself from the normality of the world and became engrossed in the task at hand, lost in a world of blessed servitude.

It was an odd state, the place I found myself, almost in a zone of euphoria. It was as if I was transported above the place on the floor. Part of me wasn't there, the part that existed when I was in control. An overwhelming feeling of rapture consumed me as I performed this humble activity.

With her sensual foot held gently in my hand, I snuck a peek upwards, following the smooth flow of skin up her calf, past a dimpled knee, beyond a curvy thigh and between her legs. Enchanting panties stretched across her womanhood, her throne of power.

Beneath the sheer fabric I could distinguish the shadow of pubic hair.

Alas, I was caught in my indiscretion and nudging me with her other foot, in a not too gentle manner, Alex indicated her awareness of the naughty inspection of forsaken areas. The rude prod in the side also signified her disapproval. Like a good servant, I took the gesture to mean that I should return to the duties at hand, at foot rather, and not pursue any extracurricular activities. Besides I was a little embarrassed at peeking at her private domain.

It's true; Alex had a special way about her. Words, often, need not be spoken—a look, a gesture or small hints, like a swift kick, were adequate demonstrations of the way she felt. Abashed at being caught at my little indiscretion, I went back to work.

After about fifteen minutes I finished with the first foot. As I sat back, Alex raised it from my gentle hands to examine it. Waiting for approval, I held my breath.

The gesture placed the lovely foot directly in front of my besotted face. I was mesmerized by the exquisite appendage.

A soft aroma, one almost sensual, drifted from the nearness of her skin. Inhaling quietly, I drank in the sweet scent. It filled my senses, working its charms like an aphrodisiac.

The examination completed, Alex lowered the foot to gaze into my eyes. At that moment, I was simply a vessel that she filled with desire, lusting for my beautiful queen.

"You did ok," she deemed. "I would say the job is satisfactory—almost."

Her eyes pierced mine, searing a blaze of raw emotion all the way to the inner part of my soul. "But if you want to continue performing this privilege you'll have to get better." She rested the sweet foot on my thigh. "Do you want to continue?"

My face flushed with joy, I squeaked out an eager yes and she interchanged her other foot. This time I concentrated painstakingly on the task. Carefully, almost reverently, I devoted myself to the beloved chore.

Finally, when I had completed the job, Alex examined the nails. Taking her time to study each toe, she held the lovely foot right in front of my face again like she did last time. If I thought about it, and I really didn't, I imagined I looked sort of silly, pathetic really, sitting there on the floor with one foot on my thigh and the other in front of my face. There was no sign of the wealthy executive in this room. There was only a Queen and her servant.

Tiring of holding the appendage while the examination took place, Alex rested the darling foot on my face. The arch pressed against my nose and her heel was almost at my mouth. As though caught in a rapturous web, my eyes closed—not so much from the contact as from the significance of the gesture.

Sitting in silence, a sensation of subservience washed over me. A state of calm settled over me and I knew that I would sit in the position as long as she wanted to—as long as she wanted to use me.

Finally, she removed her foot from my face. As she did my lips puckered quickly and I planted a quick kiss to the bottom of her foot. I don't know if she realized it or not, she must have, but I didn't care, I just had to do it. I sat kneeling in front of her, waiting in silence for another command for three or four more minutes.

When she left the room, I remained on the floor, glued to my position, lost in the sensation, savoring the memory.

The following day I awaited the opportunity to do her nails again. She didn't go into the living room like she did before and I began to get anxious. Instead of taking a break, she stayed in the office finishing the work. Out of sheer frustration I broke down and asked her why she hadn't stopped.

"Boy I'm tired," I announced as I stretched for emphasis. "I need a break, how about you?"

"No, I'm fine," Alex responded. She was squatting at a lower drawer filing away the latest report. Her skirt drew up her legs and exposed the gorgeous thighs. The only problem I had of the sexy picture was that I was behind her with only a view of her side. Wouldn't it be exquisite to be in front where I might get a glimpse up her dress?

"You don't need your nails done today? I was looking forward to it." I tried to sound cavalier, to make light of the comment. Instead I was afraid that my remark sounded too anxious.

"No," she answered, not even glancing at me, "if you do a good enough job they only need to be done once or twice a week."

"Oh." Disappointment showed in the sad response. She peered at me knowingly. I tried at new tactic. "I was just thinking that since it was my first time doing your nails that they probably needed touching up. I'm sure that I didn't do a very good job. They probably could use another coat."

"They're ok," she said dismissively.

"No really Alex. I'm a bit of a perfectionist and I'd prefer it if I could make sure that they're done properly." Even though I attempted to sound sincere I know my explanation seemed more like pleading. I tried to turn the tide. "You're the one who said I needed to do a good job."

She twisted her head and studied me carefully, remaining squatting at the file cabinet, almost as if making some important decision.

"Ok, I guess. If you feel you have to." Her reply made it seem as though she were doing me a favor.

Waiting until she stood, I followed along behind her as she strode to the living room. My mind was already shifting into that servile zone that had been overtaking me lately. As she sat on the couch, I assumed my position on the floor. Watching me closely, she placed her royal foot in my hand.

After a momentary pause, I began my chore. Again, unable to help myself, I snuck quick peeks up her leg to view her panties. Again I noticed the plain, white cotton material, so earthy in nature.

From where I sat, I was certain that a few golden hairs poked out from the sides. My breath caught in my throat. Glimpsing these hairs was the closest I had come to the beloved area I craved.

Taking painstaking effort to the task at hand, I concentrated diligently as I carefully applied the polish to the brightened nails, trying desperately not to become too enraptured in the occasional glances at the simple panties.

After finishing, I sat like a patient supplicant awaiting further instructions. Part of me wished that the pleasant chore never ended and part of me eagerly anticipated the next step in our new arrangement.

Casually, majestically, Alex rested one foot on my face, placing it there as though it was my duty in life, examining the work I had so meticulously done for imperfections. I sat silent and posed like a piece of furniture, not moving, barely breathing. When I did inhale, it was only to smell the sweet fragrance of her foot.

Because of the way she pushed my head back I had no trouble viewing her panties. For the first time I could make out the outline of her mound. Using my imagination, I could envision the beauty of her blessed vulva right in front of me. Unintentionally, I was becoming exceptionally hard.

Suddenly, deliberately, she placed the other foot directly on my crotch. Her eyes forced me to look deep into their controlling depths. The combination of her control, the sight of her pussy encased in her panties, the feeling of the foot on my face and the slight pressure of the other foot in my lap caused me to erupt in a fantastic gush.

I groaned in ecstasy.

"What do you say?" she asked as she removed her foot from my face and placed it before my mouth.

"Thank you," I muttered and planted a quick kiss on her foot.

This behavior continued daily. Getting up earlier than her I rushed to complete her chores so we could get to the time when I could do her nails. More and more often I was doing more of the chores. I fixed her lunch and made the coffee. In the mornings I worked hard, anticipating the moment she took her break. Finally when the moment came and she left for the other room, I waited a few minutes before following her.

She sat on the couch, her dress always riding part way up her thigh. I knelt on the floor directly in front of her. If her nails needed work she merely placed a foot on my leg, silently bidding me to perform the task. If not, sometimes she allowed me the opportunity to massage her feet.

Each day began the same way; a gentle graduation process, she called it. She allowed my servile hands to creep farther up her leg. Cautiously, reverently, I kissed her a little higher after beginning with her foot. Lingering at the soft contact, I inhaled her sweet fragrance. The scent stayed with me, intoxicating me, captivating me, haunting me long after she shooed me away like a pesky pest.

The next day my lips were blessed with a momentary caress on her ankle. Remaining glued to her soft skin until she kicked me away I found solace in the surrender. The next day, watching her eyes closely I moved up to her shin, breathing deeply as I tasted her. The next day I was at her knee. This allowed me a closer peek at the valley between her legs. Finally the day came where I arrived at her thigh. The softness was narcotic. My eyes drifted to her crotch. I was ecstatic at the sight, so close to those panties. The soft yet firm thighs aroused me.

That night I hardly slept. I knew what the next day might bring. At last, my dream might come true. In my sleep, visions of her cotton panties dominated every scene. I tossed and turned all night as the sight of her sitting above me, her beautiful legs spread invitingly, my tongue drooling kept me on the edge of mental orgasm. When I awoke my member was straining against the sheets in anticipation of the day of reckoning.

Would I finally be allowed to place my worshipful lips to the shrine?

The morning dragged on, each minute seeming like hours. At the appointed time, Alex beckoned me to the living room. As I scurried into the room I wondered briefly when the last time she had done any work. Probably the same time I begged to polish her nails. Somehow, those legs of hers had taken over.

I worked for her now.

Throughout the task her legs parted gradually until I was allowed a nice view of the smooth, white panties. After the application, I held the feet in my lap as the polish dried. Her toes rested against my growing penis.

"I know you're in a hurry," she said. "They will dry faster if you blow on them."

With these instructions, I raised each one and blew gently until the polish hardened. The wait seemed endless yet was tantalizing. The view was spectacular.

Finally, I kissed the toes of the foot I held. My lips caressed the skin gently. Now was the time to begin the climb to the heaven between her legs.

The smooth slope above her toes felt cool against my lips. Her ankle tasted sweet as though she applied perfume there. I pressed my lips against her shin, the bone unyielding. I moved around to the side to press my lips to the soft muscle of her calf.

At her knee I paused to glance at the object of my desire. The panties beckoned my arrival, the fabric spread tightly over her pussy. With a groan, I worked my way up to her thigh, spreading her legs as my body squeezed between them. Now her legs held me as I kissed my way up. The ultra soft area of her thigh, right before her panties, was almost too much. My little cock throbbed wildly in my trousers, aching for relief.

Finally, I was there, at the junction of her womanhood. With reverence, my lips pressed against the warm and slightly moist fabric. A sensual heat penetrated through the thin covering. The sweet smell of her essence possessed me and I mouthed the mound gently.

With a sort of adoration that was inspired by a deep lust, I continued the soft caresses over the face of her panties. The nearness to heaven was almost overwhelming but I followed the set rules and controlled myself. Today, my job was worshipping the panel in front.

Tomorrow might be different.

Wetness soaked the cotton, a combination of my saliva and her precious juices. My lips applied their tender manipulations until she arched her back and silently climaxed.

The next day I started again at her feet, touching up the nails. The chore came easily to me now and I was proud of my accomplishment. When I finished, she rested a foot on my face, pushing my head back, her heel on my chin, her sole on my nose and her toes on my forehead. The effect was immediate. A cloud of lust spread across my feeble mind and I drifted into a state of submission.

With devotion, I kissed her foot.

Finished with this part of the ritual, she removed her foot from my face and placed it on my thigh.

This was the sign for me to begin my journey. A tremor of excitement charged through me. I worked my way up, slowly, tantalizingly. Minutes later, I reached the white cloth of her panties. I placed my worshipful lips on the fabric. I could feel the outline of her clitoris and I massaged it with my lips. She allowed me a few seconds there.

Moments later, she pushed me away and left the room. I sat there, the feel of the cotton, the taste of her sweet nectar still on my lips.

The next day the routine continued. After I worked my way up her luscious leg I remained longer glued to the outside of the cotton fabric. Maybe the soft caresses were getting to her because the following day she didn't wear any panties.

I was on my knees, foot in hand, applying the polish to her toes when I first noticed. As usual I would sneak peeks up her legs to glance at her panties. With her legs slightly parted my glimpse spotted her nudity.

Unbelievingly, a perfectly trimmed bush stared back at me. I almost dropped the applicator.