A Train Encounter Pt. 05

Author's note:

Please let me know in the comments if this installment is too long. These were originally much shorter blog posts that were written from my journal a day or two after they happened. I'm trying to consolidate them into fewer chapters.

A Train Encounter - Part 5

I didn't see Tracy for a few days, but that was normal. She had a staggered schedule and sometimes had weekdays off to make up for working weekends. The next time she hopped on the train she was her old happy, carefree self, looking like a pseudo punk in an army style jacket, black skirt, black stockings with a diamond pattern, and Steve Madden combat style boots. I made a comment that she looked dangerous today, and she answered "you know it" before breaking into a good laugh.

We started talking about work and other normal stuff, until she thanked me for waiting for her the other night. She said that it was a long, stressful day and she was really looking forward to getting together but was worried that I wouldn't be there when she got out so late. I told her it was my pleasure, and that after seeing the state she was in by the time we got to her car I was glad I waited. Tracy replied that she had been exhausted and half out of it, and apologized for everything. I was a little surprised, so asked what she was sorry for. She had been feeling guilty about putting her boots on my chest, smushing my face around to give herself a massage on my cheekbones, (even though it really felt good), and just how sweaty her feet were. I told her to stop, that I loved every second of it, and would have stayed longer if she wasn't too wiped out to drive.

Tracy smiled and thanked me again, then went quiet for a couple of minutes before saying "umm... did I stick my toes in your mouth?"

I laughed louder than I should have, then quieted down fast. When I got control of my laughter I said "no, why?"

She said she didn't think so but wasn't sure, and would have been mortified if she did. I told her not to worry, it didn't happen, but why did she think she had done that. She blushed a bit and said "I don't know, I guess I was thinking about doing it when I was pushing on your mouth towards the end there. My feet were pretty nasty though so I'm glad I didn't."

I told her that yes, her feet were really sweaty, but I wouldn't have minded; in fact I would have enjoyed it. She looked at me and just said "Good to know. Anyway, thank you".

The next few weeks were fun, we met most days to go into work, and matinee Wednesdays pretty much turned into massage Wednesdays. One week I suggested that we move to the back seat so she didn't have to maneuver around the center console. She pulled an amazing array of random junk out of the back seat and moved it into the trunk, and from then on we sat in the back seat for her massages. Around the middle of July she told me that her lease was up and she was moving back in with her folks for a little while to save money. I was kind of bummed until she told me it would just put her two stops past me on the train line so she would be getting on before me in the mornings and staying on past my stop in the evening.

The next Wednesday Tracy was on the train in the morning, but not at night. I waited through the next few trains and finally went home alone. The following day she explained that she wasn't feeling well at work and left early. I told her I was sorry to hear that, and I missed our Wednesday massage. She said "me too" but I could tell something was wrong. We met a few times over the next few days on the way to work. Everything was pleasant, just different.

The following Wednesday I had to go in early but met her on the way home. I was kind of excited because she had on that punk outfit again and I really liked the black pattern stockings and her combat boots. They were worn out, mid-calf, lace up boots with a thick, treaded sole and chunky heel that was about 2" high. I asked if she was ready for her massage and she answered "I guess", so I asked her what was wrong. If she was feeling uncomfortable we could stop, she just had to let me know. She said "it isn't that, but can I ask you something?" The tone of her voice and look on her face worried me, but I said of course.

That's when she asked "are you really divorced?"

I was shocked, and stared at her, finally blurting out "of course, why would you ask that? It was probably the last thing I would expect her to ask. Well not divorced yet, but I'm separated, my wife moved out, and my divorce papers are going through the courts."

She said that she realized on the day she got sick that she didn't have my cell number to let me know, and started wondering why we always met in her car at the lot for her train. I told her that my car, a two door wrangler with a stick shift wouldn't quite work, and then I asked for her number. She gave it to me and I sent her a text so she had mine. She seemed to accept that, but said she still felt weird, and the more she thought about it the more she felt like she was the other woman in something.

I told her that I understood, but that just wasn't the case, and if there was anything I could do to prove it I would. She suggested meeting somewhere that we wouldn't be scrunched up and hiding from other commuters. I agreed and told her that any time she wanted to go somewhere else it was fine with me. She suggested my house, and I told her sure, any time. She responded "how about now?"

I was a little surprised and felt that she was up to something, so said sure and suggested picking up my car and taking both to my house. I didn't want her to ever feel like she couldn't leave if she wanted to. She thanked me for the thought, but said no, let's just go. She told me much later that she really felt that I had someone at home and didn't want me to have a chance to make up a story. Didn't matter, the only one living with me was my dog.

We got to my house and I brought her in, told her to make herself at home while I went downstairs to get a couple of drinks. Tracy was much closer to being herself when I found her outside on the deck and handed her a cosmo. She had time to look around the house and realized that I actually was living in this big house by myself.

She felt really bad and started to apologize, but I told her I understood. Our friendship path really did look like a married guy trying to have an affair.

We finished our drinks and went inside to get another round. As I was making them I asked if she still wanted a foot rub or if she just wanted to hang out. She definitely wanted one, but was embarrassed to bring it up after giving me such a hard time. I assured her that I wasn't offended or upset, and walked her into the living room.

I had her sit on the couch, then sat on the floor in front of her and started unzipping her boots. I got them off and she immediately pressed her feet onto my face, greeting me with that wonderful smell. Not as strong as her brown boots, but still a very intense smell with more of a leather scent.

Tracy joked that this was her way of being nice to me since I put up with her nuttiness and started rubbing her feet on my face. She said that it was nice that she could finally stretch out a little and didn't have to reach for my face, but that it was actually easier in the car. I asked what she was talking about, and she said that there was nothing behind me so she couldn't push her feet on my face.

I laughed and said it was ok, and started working on her left foot while she kept her right foot pressed to my face. After a while I switched feet, and she cupped the toes of her left foot around my nose. Tracy leaned forward to grab one of her boots, which was cool because she really pushed her feet into my face to get there. She looked at it, shrugged, and took a small whiff of it, then immediately held it away from her and tossed it back on the floor.

"I really don't know how you can stand this, but I love that you do."

I really didn't know what to say so I just shrugged and mumbled that I don't know why I like it, I just do.

The ball of her left foot was pressed against my mouth in order to keep her toes curled around my nose. I had closed my eyes and was enjoying the feeling and smell of breathing in and out between them. My mind started drifting, wondering what she would do if I opened my lips a little and dragged my tongue across her foot where it covered my mouth. Then it drifted to imagining Tracy pushing those beautiful, sweaty, stocking covered toes into my mouth. I even daydreamed about her standing on my chest, her strong, solid legs encased in those black stockings moving up and down as she used all of her 125 lbs to walk all over my chest.

But none of that happened. Tracy just leaned back on the couch and sighed, occasionally wiggling her toes or squeezing my nose. At about the hour mark I put her foot down and asked how it was. She said she was so relaxed that she almost fell asleep. She lifted her right foot and rubbed the side of my face, then switched feet and did the same, before finally pressing both feet onto my face and sighing again.

We agreed that we should probably go pick up my car so she could get home. During the drive she said "you know, I looked at you a few times and you looked about as content as I felt. I really don't know how you put up with, let alone enjoy, the smell and feeling of her feet on your face right out of her boots."

I told her that I just can't explain it. I know that the dampness of her stockings, the intensity of the smell, the taste on my lips after she takes her foot off my mouth, there's no valid reason to enjoy any of it, but I do. The combination of all those things does make me content, and set my imagination off to think of everything we've done and talked about, so yes, I have that same feeling of contentment.

Tracy just smiled and said "well good, I'm glad it isn't one sided." She stayed silent for a few minutes as we pulled into the parking lot before grinning at me and saying "The taste on your lips, huh? I should probably let my feet air dry for a minute next time before shoving them in your face." and laughing a little.

I responded "Don't you dare! What you did tonight was perfect."

"Ok, sweaty lips it is. Just remember that you asked for it."

As I was getting into my car she asked "So if it was perfect, what did your imagination have to think about?"

I told her "what you did was incredible, and definitely perfect just the way it was, but we've talked about a lot of things, some have happened and some haven't, but I'm loving every minute of our Wednesdays. And on that note I'll say goodnight and let your imagination work it out".

I laughed at her expression as she started moving and followed her out of the lot.

To be continued...