Footboy Tales 1: Psychic Foot Love

"You're crazy!" Helen exclaimed in a whisper that was anything but. "Are you trying to get us thrown out of here?" But Jim noticed that not only was she smiling, but she was tittering excitedly.

"Hey," Jim grinned, proud of himself for thinking of it, "You were the one who suggested I have your feet for dessert. I aim to please. I'm surprised you didn't read my mind and know that was coming."

"I was too mellow from you rubbing my feet. You caught me off guard. I can see I'm going to have to try to keep my wits about me with you around. You're sneaky."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you," he replied with a Snidely Whiplash upraising of his eyebrows.

Helen shook her head, but was beaming a warm smile, and though Jim couldn't see it, she was trembling with excitement, and more than a little arousal. Her feet started wiggling again, this time wanting more than just a massage. By way of retaliation for Jim's sneak attack, Helen forced one leg between his legs and started kneading his crotch with her toes. "You're playing with fire, mister," she said, with a look on her face that verified that very sentiment. Jim felt he was up to the challenge. That was debatable at that moment, however, as her toes massaging his little head made his big head fuzzy.

"Jim," Helen said, leaning forward and whispering seductively, "What do you say we get out of here? Let's get to the movie."

Jim was surprised and bewildered. Her sauciness seemed to indicate she wanted to go someplace private and start getting very intimate. But then she mentions going to the movie instead. He was getting mixed messages, and her toes playing with his groin didn't help matters much either.

"The movie?" he asked, "But I was thinking... "

"Oh, no, no, no, footboy Jimmy, you don't get my feet that easily. A romantic dinner, a much too short foot rub and one little toe suck and you think you've earned some time with my lovely tootsies? Oh, no, that's not how it works. You yourself said it will be an honor to kiss my feet. Well, sir, honors must be earned. I want you to sit through a two and a half hour movie and think about my feet the whole time. I want you to watch Captain America beat up bad guys for hours before you get to take me home and get my shoes off again. When you've earned my feet, Jim, they'll be all yours... but not until."

"Hey, now," he retaliated, "You want your feet worshipped as much as I want to worship them."

"Well, then, maybe we both need to prove we can show some restraint. Maybe it's good for both of us to show we can control our desires for a little while. Besides, won't it be all the more sweet if we deprive ourselves for a bit?" Then she thought for a minute, and added, "No, Jim, I want my feet worshipped, but I think you're more horny for it than I am. So I think you having to wait after you just tasted my toes is going to drive you nuts. By the time the movie is over, you'll be so crazy for my feet you'll kiss them and lick them and suck them until your lips are swollen and your mouth starts having muscle spasms! I definitely think I have the advantage here. When you finally get my shoes off me, you'll be ready to beg for my feet. And then, footboy Jim, you are going to worship my feet like no other feet have ever been worshipped before."

Helen actually had a smug look on her face. Jim knew that she wanted her feet pampered and adored in every way possible, and she was even eager for it. But he also knew that she knew he was twice as eager to get on with it, and she was absolutely right... advantage Helen. She wanted it bad, but they both knew that he would cave long before she would. Resigned to his fate, Jim said, "Okay, let's go see Cap kick some butt," but he did so with a sad look on his face.

"Oh, don't look so sad, Jim. While we're watching the movie, I'm planning on giving you a reward for this lovely evening and for your patience. I thought you might like a little 'preview' of what's going to happen later tonight. We'll sit way up in the back row where it's nice and private and I will slip off my shoes and... oh, here comes the check."

Jim had been completely focused on her every word, and Helen obviously took a tiny bit of cruel delight in leaving him hanging. She was just absolutely ecstatic at how much he wanted her feet. Not only did the looks on his face as she talked about her feet make her squirm, but the delicious thoughts he was thinking made her literally vibrate with anticipation of what she planned for the theater and for what would happen afterwards. Oh, she was planning on getting her feet worshipped by Jim until the poor boy was too tired to even breathe. And she had a feeling she'd get her way. Oh, yes, he was going to give his all for her pretty, pretty feet. And he would do so gladly.

Jim could barely function as he drove to the theater, which prompted Helen several times to ask, "Are you okay, Jim? Do you want me to drive?" But she read his mind and found it clear enough to get them to the movie in one piece. His brain was able to remember all the rules of the road and the many functions of an automobile, even with thoughts of nuzzling Helen's feet jumbled in with them. Those lovely thoughts had Helen smiling... and squirming a little.

They arrived at the theater in one piece. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, Jim's brain had improved to about ninety percent. He appeared to be functioning mentally much better. Helen smiled at that, knowing that what she had planned would reduce that number substantially. And what she was going to do to the poor boy might be just a tad cruel, but, well, he was the one who wanted to worship her feet. He might as well get used to just how often she wants it done. She was sure he wouldn't object, anyway. He was going to smile through every second of it, no doubt. And that's what makes it such a win-win situation. Ah, life doesn't get any better than that!

"Helen," Jim asked as he purchased the tickets, "What made you decide you wanted to see Captain America? That's not the kind of movie women generally like. Well, except geek women, and you don't strike me at all as a geek." He looked at her with curiosity as they walked down the corridor leading to theater number seven, which played their movie.

"Well, let's see. First, Captain America has a bod on him like an Adonis. Second, I enjoy super hero movies, even though I'm not a geek. And third, I'm willing to bet you've already seen it. Am I right?"

"Yeah. How... oh, you read my mind?"

"Guilty," she admitted. "Sorry, sometimes things just jump right into my mind."

"So why did you want to see a movie I've already seen?"

"Well," she cooed in his ear, "That way it won't be such a loss for you when you have to miss it this time."

"Miss it? What? But, then, why are we here...? I don't... "

"Jim, dear, I'll be watching the movie... but you won't." Her grin was positively obscene. Poor Jim was still clueless. His jumbled thoughts were making Helen laugh as she hurried along the corridor, even her hand over her mouth unable to quell the rush of laughter. Jim knew something was up, but had no idea what she was laughing at. And that made her laugh all the more.

When they entered the dimly lit theater, Helen hurried in front of Jim, grabbing his hand and pulling him along behind her. Up the steps she went to the very back of the theater, dragging Jim along. She was so excited about her plan that she kept tugging at his hand even as he stumbled up the steps behind her. She heaved a sigh of relief that there were no other moviegoers occupying that back row of seats, and since the movie should begin shortly, she was willing to bet there wouldn't be. Thank God for small favors. The whole plan might've been a bust if anyone else had been up there.

"Okay, Helen," Jim said when she'd moved to the center of the row and seated herself, "What are you planning, you little minx. What do you mean I'm not going to see the movie. If I'm not... "

"Shhhhhhh. Be patient, Jim. Wait until the movie begins. Then I'll let you in on it."

"But, wait... just tell me... "

"Shhhhhh. When the movie begins. Not a minute sooner. Now hush." She tried to give him a stern look, but she couldn't keep from smiling. Oh, how surprised he was going to be... and how delighted. He would probably go home that night and add her to his will. And oh how she loved stringing him along. By reading his mind she knew he wasn't faking it - he really was clueless, though he knew SOMETHING was going to happen. She couldn't wait to spring it on him, to see the look of utter joy on his face, mixed in there with the surprise. He was going to love her surprise as much as she was loving springing it. And then the dim lights got even dimmer, slowly fading out entirely.

After the ridiculous common practice of showing a boatload of commercials, an equally unending parade of movie previews lit up the screen. Helen was getting antsy, eager to spring her surprise. She was afraid Jim would figure it out and that would ruin her hopes of seeing that precious look on his face when it finally did happen. She gritted her teeth throughout the twenty minute pre-movie crap parade. Jim was antsy, too, knowing that whatever Helen was planning, he was probably going to like it. He liked her - she seemed to do everything right. So there they sat, both of them barely able to endure the wait. And finally the pre-show nonsense came to an end.

The movie began. The animated Marvel Comics insignia and flipping comics panels that had become known as the Marvel introduction brightened the screen. Helen bit her lip and waited for the first scene to begin. Finally, there it was. It was go time. Jim was watching the screen.

"Jim," she whispered, "It's time."

"Time for what?" he whispered back. He looked at her. In the light from the movie screen he thought she was beautiful. She was smiling a smile that was ten times as bright as the images on the screen.

She leaned forward and put her lips very close to his ears. "You're not going to be watching the movie, Jim," she whispered, letting her lips graze his ear. "I'm going to, but you're not. You see, I want my feet worshipped... right now. But just kissed. No toe sucking or foot licking yet. We'll see about that for later. And how much of that you get depends on how adored my feet feel when you're done kissing them. I want you to take my shoes off my feet, pucker your lips, and make my feet feel loved... and I want you to do it for the entire length of the movie." She watched his face, waiting with more anticipation than she'd ever experienced before.

Jim's face went slowly morphed from confusion to understanding. As the realization of what Helen had just said struck him and her plan became clear, his face beamed. That slow transformation of his face from cluelessness to finally grasping the situation was priceless to Helen. She giggled and hopped in her seat,

watching Jim's stupefied smile grow larger and larger, his eyes brighten with pure joy. He looked like the happiest man on the planet... which was exactly what Helen had hoped she'd see. Although Helen's excited antics earned a few hisses and "be quiets" from other moviegoers, Jim didn't notice. He was grinning like a loon at Helen, who was getting giddier by the second.

Jim was still grinning stupidly when Helen finally calmed down. But she was missing the movie, and she was also eager to get Jim's lips busy on her impatient feet. So this precious moment, thoroughly enjoyed by both it seemed, had to end and the real business of the evening had to commence.

"Jim," Helen whispered.

"Yes?" he barely squeezed out, thanks to malfunctioning lungs.

"Jim, hon, did you get what I said?" She was enjoying this immensely.

"Uh, yeah, you said you wanted me to... wo... wor... worship your fee... feet."

"Yes, I did. Throughout the entire length of the movie."

"Uh huh," he still stared at her stupidly.

"Well, Jim dear... the movie's begun. And I don't feel any lips on my feet."

"Uh... no... I guess... I haven't... started yet."

"So what's the holdup?"

"I don't know. I'm not thinking right. I think I'm in shock."

"Well, my feet feel neglected. That's not a good thing. And if you want to lick them and suck on them later, I think you'd better stop making them feel that way, don't you?"

"Yeah, that sounds right."

"Well, then, slip off my shoes for me and start kissing my feet. Doesn't that sound like it might be a good way to begin?

"Oh, yeah. Uh, right." Jim thought she was going to put her feet on his lap so he could remove her shoes. After a few seconds, when she hadn't, he looked at her, his face again blank.

"What's wrong now, Jim?" she giggled, "Is something stumping you? I thought you were the great foot worshipper. You're not impressing me so far." She could barely keep from laughing.

"Well, put your feet on my lap and I will, Helen."

"On your lap? I never said... oh, I see. No, Jim, you misunderstand me. There's no way you'll be able to kiss every inch of both my feet with them on your lap and you bent over. No, you can't possibly get your lips everywhere they'll need to be. The angles would be all wrong. No way you can properly worship my feet like that. No, you'll have to sit on the floor next to my seat and I'll stretch out my legs. We'll both be more comfortable that way. And if you're more comfortable, you'll be able to do a better job of worshipping my feet, don't you agree?"

Jim was blinking his confusion now, looking as if something had gotten caught in his eye. Helen covered her mouth so she wouldn't burst out laughing. Slowly Jim was understanding why Helen had said that he wouldn't be watching the movie with her, that only she would. This woman was awesome! "Yes," he said to her with a dawning smile. He grinned at her and felt like Heaven had opened up just for him.

"Jim?" Helen whispered again.

"Yes?" Jim answered, short of breath, grinning, falling in love.

Helen pointed down. "My feet?" she said, lifting her legs. "Isn't there something you should be doing for my feet? We're already five minutes into the movie. I'm missing out on both the movie and my foot worship."

"Yes, ma'am!" Jim said with a grin that nearly split his face in two. It was louder than it should have been and received another round of hisses and "quiet!s". Neither Jim nor Helen cared. No one else in the world existed, only themselves.

Slowly Jim got up off his seat and sat on the floor facing Helen. She turned to her side and held her legs straight out so that her feet hovered just beneath his chin. She wiggled them, but said nothing. Jim reached out and slowly removed first one sexy slide, and then the other. Even in the dim light of the theater, he could sense how beautiful those feet were. His memory pulled up every minute detail of both feet, and his eyelids fluttered with the beginnings of passion. He placed her shoes gently down on the floor and then took one of her feet in his hands. He savored its warmth. He caressed it, not believing he could be so lucky. But Helen was impatient. A wiggling foot rose until it was directly in front of his face, demanding to be kissed, demanding its very much wanted and deserved worship.

Jim wanted to kiss every inch of that foot at the same time. He wished he could put his lips everywhere at once, adoring her entire foot in one passionate kiss. He felt so grateful that this beauty of a woman was allowing him to worship her feet. He ached to kiss those feet, and finally, he did. He couldn't keep from sighing on her feet as he kissed them. He panted his desire, nuzzling his face in her feet between kisses, rubbing them against his face, feeling the softness of the soles, burying his face in the delectable arches and inhaling their alluring scent. Helen's feet were incredible. He wished he could see them better, but that didn't matter. His every other sense was taking in everything they could about Helen's feet, storing each bit of information into a memory already overflowing with sublime sensations.

Jim kissed every inch of every one of Helen's toes. He kissed up one side of each toe, then the tip, and then back down the other side, squeezing his lips into the spaces between the toes to make sure nothing was missed. He kissed the top and bottom of it. He held each toe firmly between gentle fingers and made sure each orange toenail was worshipped. Her toes Jim bent back ever so gently, exposing the soft, warm area below the pads so that he could squeeze his lips in there and dutifully kiss the base of each toe and give it a loving show of affection. No effort was spared to give Helen's toes the worship they deserved. Each toe was lavished with no less than twenty slow, deliberate, adoring kisses. Two hundred kisses just for Helen's toes alone, and Jim felt they deserved even more than that, which he would gladly give them when he repeated the entire process as many times as necessary later on. But until then, the other parts of her feet needed and deserved just as much attention.

It took more than three hundred kisses to adequately worship the sole of just one of Helen's amazing feet, and Jim counted them so he wouldn't give one foot more attention than the other. He sighed repeatedly as his lips caressed those soft soles and lit his brain up with desire. Kissing deep into those gorgeous arches nearly drove him mad. Her heels only required some forty kisses between them, but another twenty were required to adore from there up to the pretty ankles, which Jim had a fondness for. Kissing behind Helen's heels was just a bit tricky, but well worth the effort. Besides, Helen appreciated the effort.

The sides of those feet were warm and soft as Jim's lips marched from big toe to heel, around the heel and back up the other side to the little toe. Another hundred plus kisses per foot. Another two hundred instances of bliss for Jim's lips, though this time, admittedly, he lost count as he was so into the silky texture of her feet that he may have forgotten his numbers. Lastly, the two insteps, smooth and creamy and delicious. It took a lot of kisses to do them justice, but Jim's lips enjoyed the challenge.

And all of that was BEFORE Jim's passion got the better of him. Yes, he nuzzled her feet, savored everything about them, inhaled their aroma, put his lips everywhere he could get them - letting them linger many, many times, sighing and softly moaning as he adored her feet. But his passionate worship of them was yet to come.

That first "cycle" of worshipping Helen's feet was, his passions notwithstanding, more of a gentle kissing of her feet, his lips adoring her feet and showing them his gratitude and the respect the feet of a goddess deserve. But after that first cycle, Jim could no longer hold back his emotions. His kisses became more passionate. His lips pressed into her foot flesh with vigor, sometimes gently sucking at her feet before moving on, savoring their sweetness. As he kissed the balls of her feet his nose would play with her toes, sliding back and forth along the pads, his mouth sighing as toe after toe bounced off the tip of his nose in rapid succession. He took to kissing her heels and ankles with his mouth open, wanting to suck them but holding back, saving that joy for later. He kissed her soles rapidly, hungrily, open-mouthed and with his lips dragging along her skin, wishing he could openly taste her feet. At one point he had her sole pressed so hard against his face as he kissed it, that it could be arguably considered that he was actually massaging her foot with his smiling, sighing face, which he considered at that moment to be the luckiest face in this or any other universe. He was lost in worshipping her feet, and neither himself nor Helen was the least bit ashamed at the pleasure they were receiving from it.