Dr. Allen's New Patient Ch. 18

Sally got a call back from a company she had applied to recently for a job. It was for a clerical position, and the firm's headquarters were situated Downtown a few blocks from her old workplace; not too far from her former therapist's office, either.

With what was going on in her life lately, Sally had almost forgotten about her precarious predicament of being unemployed. Even though she had recently recovered her "moving-out money", she longed for the security of a steady job, to replace the one she had hastily abandoned.

After securing herself new employment, she would resolve to resume her apartment search. For a while now, living in the boarding house had put a real damper on her privacy, not to mention her sanity. Her "windfall" money in her hands though, could finally get her that independent space she had been wanting. Besides, Vincent and his obnoxious "frat" buddy were fucking annoying, giving her all the more reason to ditch the house.

"First thing's first. I have to get a job", she reasoned, and so she wasted no time in scheduling an interview for the following workday, bright and early.

"I hope there aren't good looking guys at this new place", she muttered to herself.

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Sally awoke unusually early the next morning, nervous about meeting a prospective employer. And as she could not think of arriving late to any meeting, instead of going back to sleep for more rest, she decided to get out of bed.

Yawning and stretching out her limbs a bit, she looked out the bedroom window. It was barely light out, and she reckoned everyone in the house was still asleep. With ample time to kill, she considered taking a long hot bath. That was sure to calm her jittery nerves.

Along with toiletries and bath towels, Sally took her phone into the bathroom. She needed to switch the light on, as the sun hadn't fully risen yet. Setting her things down, and still in her bathrobe, she sat on the edge of the tub. She started her bath, watching the steam emitting from the thick flow of gushing water. She poured in some iridescent-looking, fruit smelling soap, which immediately generated foamy bubbles. Grabbing her phone to open up "YouTube", she put on soothing aromatherapy music. Then she set the phone down and waited for the tub to fill up.

Dipping one small toe in, Sally gauged the bath's temperature, satisfied with how it felt. She untied her hair and let it fall over her scarred back and shoulders. Then she opened her bathrobe and let it fall to the floor, carefully stepping into the tub. Her backside had healed up sufficiently from the encounter with BDSM, so she took a deep breath, held it, and immersed, head and all, into the steamy water.

Safely "cocooned" from the outside world that she never quite understood, Sally felt absolute contentment lying in the smoldering bath. The water swirling around was gently caressing her skin. She wished to revel in its heated comfort forever, wanting to postpone reality indefinitely.

Submerged for almost a minute, she finally emerged and then reached nearby for her pink bath sponge. Using its softness to gently scrub her breasts, she brushed lightly over the nipples, which became erect at the touch. A dreamy image of Sebastian's green eyes flashed before her then, prompting a look down at her breasts, closely examining the pink areolas. Sebastian's piercing eyes lingered in her thoughts, and then she imagined them closed, as his mouth gaped open. She pictured his lips slowly approaching her left nipple, and then, instinctively, he began to suckle...

Sally felt her pussy heat up, and then juices trickling out.

When she finally climbed out of the tub, she looked at her fingers, which were as wrinkly as prunes. She bent down to pick up her robe.

Usually, after showering, Sally avoided looking at herself in the bathroom mirror. Today, for some reason and from an unknown place, she mustered up courage. Bathrobe in hand, she looked at herself from a few feet away. Staring at her small naked body, she remarked that the soap residue had made the skin on her breasts look slick, the dampness shining off the bathroom light. She then looked down between her legs and saw her recent secretions clinging to her thighs.

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Back in her little bedroom, a serious-minded Sally felt the need to look well groomed and properly dressed for her interview. As she peered into her closet for something neat to wear, she also noticed that she was feeling a lot more relaxed now that she had soaked in the hot bath.

The weather outside was the hottest it had been in a while, so she decided to forego her customary knit tights. Instead, she looked in her dresser for something light and cool to wear. She put on the sheerest nylon stockings she could find, at the same time wondering if the number of panties in her underwear drawer had been dwindling. Never mind, she didn't have time to think about trivial matters at the moment.

Sally took advantage of her still damp hair and tried her best to put it up into a professional-looking bun.

Next, because of the sweltering heat, she threw on a plain white short sleeve blouse, and a gray skirt that extended just below the knee. She would leave her black cardigan sweater in the closet for now, finishing off her "business" look with sensible black flats and her usual thick glasses.

As a little piece of "insurance", she fastened on her pretty canary diamond bracelet, the one Damian gave her a lifetime ago. A little token of luck couldn't hurt, she thought.

Feeling polished enough for the meeting, she would go downstairs, get something to eat, and then head out.

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Colin was eating his breakfast cereal and looking at his phone when Sally walked in. He immediately looked up, pleasantly surprised to find his enigmatic housemate looking nicer than he remembered. Her hair was not its usual messy nest with stray strands all over her face. He could see her legs for a change, and discovered they were surprisingly shapely. Was she wearing nylons?

He also noticed she was sporting a little bling on her wrist. At that instant, he wondered how she would look with a glittery bracelet around her ankle...

With a slight nod "Hello" to acknowledge her housemate, Sally hurried over to the fridge to grab some yogurt. Within seconds, she was out the door and on her way to her interview.

Witness to yet another awkward interaction, perhaps one of many more to come, Colin struggled to make sense of Sally. A good ten minutes after she was gone, he was still at the kitchen table posing several questions: What would she look like without those nerdy coke bottle glasses? Why would a "normal" chick like that choose to fuck old geysers out on the street? Why would she go to someone who'd beat her up? Why does she bother venturing out at night, when dudes right here in the house would gladly fuck her? Does she only spread her legs for nutcases? Would she be open to "being" with a normal guy her own age for a change? Would she consent to having a casual drink with him? What would he have to do to get her alone, drunk, and on her back?

Colin figured that a gorgeous "high quality" chick, "girlfriend material" for instance, would take considerable time to win over and get in the sack. But he speculated that scoring a fuck with a chick like Sally wouldn't need that much work. She would probably show her true slutty self in very little time. He contemplated devising a quick strategy to get to her goods. If he played his cards right, and fed her the right corny lines, coupled with and a lie or two, she'd be begging for it in no time...

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It was around 7pm, and since Vincent hadn't bothered to answer the knock on his door, Colin ended up sitting there all by his lonesome, eating leftovers from the salad his new landlady had prepared. He figured Vincent was holed up in his room and couldn't be bothered, probably because he was jacking off to porn, fucking a blow up doll, flirting with catfish on a chat site, or all of the above. Or maybe Vincent was just studying. What a jackass...

Since moving into the house, Colin also discovered Mrs. Perry had a green thumb, and that her impressive sized garden out back supplied tons of fresh organic vegetables, almost year round. She even used her homegrown herbs to make the salad dressing he was currently enjoying.

His landlady had prepared such a copious amount of vegetables, that she used her big gigantic serving bowl in order to accommodate the entire house. The humongous dish had been left out on the kitchen table for everyone to enjoy, with a thin layer of Saran wrap on top to ensure freshness.

"Too bad the old bag doesn't grow grapevines out back, so I could enjoy free wine with my meals", Colin lamented, as he took an especially big bite out of his salad. Taking time to properly chew it, he observed the variety of bright stuff nestled in his bowl: tomatoes, squash, celery, spinach, carrots, onions, and cucumbers. He was also savoring Mrs. Perry's tangy salad dressing; he could tell it contained generous amounts of oil.

A few minutes into enjoying his dinner, Colin got up to open the fridge and look for something to drink. He would have preferred wine with his salad, but alas, he guessed accurately that Mrs. Perry never kept alcohol in her kitchen.

Scanning the fridge up and down, he noticed a huge canvas bag containing what he guessed had been harvested from the backyard earlier that afternoon. Included in the bunch of vegetables were a handful of cucumbers, which in his dirty mind resembled a splendid array of phallic objects. It was at that minute that his puzzling female roommate invaded his thoughts again. She seemed ubiquitous these days. Colin's imagination went into overdrive. Boundless, limitless fantasies...

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He had just received a big chunk of Financial Aid money to buy his textbooks and school supplies. Instead however, Colin opted to take a hot girl out to the mall with the money. He intended to take his sexy baby out on a "special" shopping spree. The girl would allow him "carte blanche", and he'd be squealing in delight buying her "fun items", ones they would both actually enjoy. No more would he be relegated to merely admiring image galleries and reading message boards on WikiFeet. Now, he had some real cash with which to access his very own "secret garden".

First, he would take the girl, who was hot as fuck, to a posh and trending nail salon, blissfully shelling out cash for her to get the pricey "French Mani & Pedi". But instead of waiting out in the lobby, he would accompany her to the station where her nails would get worked on.

As if watching a tantalizing scene from an erotic movie, he'd have optimal view of his Sugar Baby perched up on the elevated salon chair, getting her feet washed, massaged, slathered in lotion, and being pampered as they rightly deserved. Enjoying the scene front and center from a coveted voyeur's seat, he couldn't help drooling at his girl's feet being spoiled, and spoiled rotten.

Before long, he wouldn't be able to resist unzipping his pants right then and there, all out in the open. With little to no shame, he began stroking himself, watching the expensive nail polish being applied to the girl's delicious toenails. Indeed, he held her feet in high esteem.

There was one exception to her "carte blanche" however. She would not let him cum. He'd have to wait. And because he had been instructed to edge, Colin ended up in as "anxious" of a state as one could imagine. What's more, in impatient anticipation of finally being given permission to shoot his load, he decided to splurge on a shiny toe ring for his honey, so she could show off her feet all the more.

After the nail salon, he would take his girl to an "upscale" shoe boutique and pick out a handful of elegant heels for her to try on, all in front of him. Well knowing he was generously indulging her, the girl took liberties in playfully sliding on and off the shoes, pair by pair. She turned her feet at all different angles, happy to put on a titillating show for her Sugar Daddy, the naughty tease. They would ignore the strange curious looks from the other customers.

Not surprisingly, Colin began to develop an imposing hard-on after mere minutes after watching his girl "model" for him, in front of everyone in the "high class" shoe establishment. As if it were a religious experience, he would pay homage to his girl's feet, now decked out and bejeweled in flashy shoe bling. Hers were the feet of a goddess, he decided, and so they deserved nothing less than absolute worship.

It went without saying that, after stroking his cock for a minute or two, Colin was feeling the urgent need to ejaculate again, and again, he was denied permission.

Ultimately, in deciding which shoes to purchase, he chose the most flattering pair, as only a designer name brand with an exorbitant price tag was worthy of adorning the girl's precious feet.

At the cashier, the middle aged saleslady took his credit card with a big smile and rang up the expensive sale. She then carefully packed the shoes in delicate tissue paper and placed them in a shiny black box, and later in a huge black shopping bag. She then handed the bag to the girl with a mischievous knowing wink.

With that, they were done with the shoe transaction, and after Colin put his wallet away, he insisted on holding the bag for his girl. He needed something to cover up the "woody" currently tenting out his pants while walking through the mall.

As their last shopping destination, they stopped at a classy lingerie shop to look for a cute little see-through apron, as well as some sensual massage oil.

The shopping spree now over, he was anxious to drive them back to his apartment.

The girl walked three steps ahead of him as they made their way to the parking lot. Shameless as fuck, she shook her ass freely, as if she were sauntering down a catwalk, allowing him the delightful pleasure of ogling her from behind.

As he opened the car's passenger door for her to climb in, she hiked up her skirt in an exaggerated manner, and flashed her beautiful legs up to the thigh, giving him another little show.

After making sure she was securely fastened in her seat, Colin put the shopping bags in the backseat.

As their car entered the freeway, the girl got up from her seat, reached back, and grabbed the black designer bag that had been tempting her the last few minutes all the way from the backseat. She quickly fished out the newly purchased items. She would put the heels on for him to resume slobbering over, in the car.

Colin was now on a busy highway going 75 miles an hour, but he couldn't resist looking over at the passenger seat. The impertinent girl was taking her sweet time slipping on her sensational new heels, and he marveled at the ethereal beauty of her feet. He felt privileged.

Then, in an indignant move, she raised her feet up to rest on his lap.

New shoes strapped snugly on her feet, the insolent girl began to lightly massage Colin's crotch through his pants, noticing he was already semi-hard. In fact, it didn't take long for his dick to start throbbing all over again. The girl then leaned in and slowly unzipped Colin's pants, while intensely looking into his eyes.

He was trying his damnedest to keep his eyes on the road, but the girl had just freed his prick out into the open. It would now be allowed to breathe.

Not caring what kind of risk he was taking, Colin nonchalantly rolled down his driver's side window, in case any passerby wanted a free show.

His Sugar Baby's feet, all tricked out, were now profusely stroking his naked cock. Of course, she wouldn't hear of allowing him to unload his balls while driving (safety first).

She told him, however, that when they got back to his place, she'd finally let him cum, inside the new shoes.

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Having become quite the connoisseur of women's feet, Colin had developed a penchant for "foot activities". Still within the furthest reaches of his imagination, he continued indulging in elaborate fantasies that featured endless twists and turns.

He visualized the sexy girl sitting on a queen's throne, a footrest situated in front of her. He himself would be her court servant, ready and willing to cater to Her Majesty's every whim.

Sitting at her feet, he held a big cucumber straight up on the footstool.

Her Majesty then lifted up her royal skirts and petticoats to reveal her precious stockings. Such taboo! The servant then slowly removed the stockings from Her Majesty's feet. Fuck...

He wanted badly to sniff them, to kiss them, to lick them, and to rub them all over his face. He had an overwhelming urge to shove her foot into his mouth, too. He wanted to suck on Her Majesty's toes, one by one.

He longed for Her Majesty's naked feet to walk all over him. He wanted her to insult him, to humiliate him, to call him a pathetic perverted depraved loser for wanting all of this.... but he knew Her Majesty would not be amused to learn of his freaky foot fetishes, so he kept quiet.

Snapping out of his daydream, the court servant now feasted his eyes on Her Majesty's "secret beauty", fully exposed.

Suddenly, Her Majesty started "stroking" the cucumber with the soles of her feet, while the servant poured generous amounts of oil all over the concoction. Exemplifying the old saying, "slippery when wet", Her Majesty went to town performing a "royal foot job" on the poor unassuming cucumber.

Afterwards, Her Majesty would be waiting for her court servant downstairs in the castle's kitchen, standing in exquisite open-toed sandals, wearing a dainty rose-colored apron and nothing else. Her soft hair would be tied up in a charming twist, and her toenails, freshly painted, would be showcasing delicate white, clear, and flesh-colored polish. The little pinkie toe ring on her right foot would round out her flirtatious outfit.

As a denouement, she would take a vegetable peeler and expertly use it to prepare the notorious cucumber for a scrumptious salad, especially for him.