Footspotting

"Would you have accepted?" she shot back.

Roger just shrugged his shoulders. He probably wouldn't have.

"Saturday," he said. "Tomorrow night. Dinner and a movie. I think there's a new shitty superhero movie out. We can watch it and make fun of how predictable and unoriginal it is. There's a Red Robin, a Chili's and a Joe's Crab Shack right by the theater—whichever you want."

"Like that's even a question," she scoffed, a smile coming to her face. Their eyes met as they responded in unison:

"Red Robin."

They shared a chuckle. They were getting back to their normal rapport.

"I will be wearing sneakers!" Ingrid warned with a sly smile.

"Fine by me," Roger said, returning the smile. "Now, can we get back to mocking the absurd constellation of tattoos on this dude's back?"

Ingrid laughed and they picked up their voyeur session as if nothing had happened.

***

Their date, and that's exactly what it was, on Saturday went great. The movie was as terrible—in a fun way—as Roger had predicted and the burgers were top notch. True to her word, Ingrid kept her perfect feet hidden. He tried to not think about them too much, which was not as difficult as he thought it would be. He focused on the things that he had never noticed about her, back when he had just thought of her as a homely nerd. Her cute, quiet laugh. Her coy smile that she had whenever she made a sly insult at something. Her chest, which had always seemed quite boyish, looked much better in the more form-fitting shirt she wore that night.

Making conversation with her was easy, as always, even though they were on a date and not on a rooftop. As they parted ways at the end of the evening, Roger stepped in close and they embraced as they had their first kiss, slow and soft. It left him wanting more, much much more.

They met for their normal Monday voyeur session, which went on pretty much as normal. But they skipped their Wednesday meeting to have drinks at a local coffee shop instead. Ingrid brought a board game made for 2 players, giving him an entry into this realm of nerdom. They skipped Friday pool-watching too to have an early dinner at a pizza place downtown and then walk around window shopping.

These dates always ended with a kiss, but not anything beyond that. If she wanted to take things slow, Roger was okay with that. He felt like he had to really prove to her that he genuinely liked her a lot, beyond just liking her feet.

And he had seemingly succeeded in this. Saturday afternoon, the day after their downtown date, she sent him a text message:

"Do you want to come over to my place tonight?"

Such a simple question, but loaded with possibilities. Roger agreed, trying to not show his excitement, and she gave him the address of her apartment and some other details.

Roger arrived at the agreed upon time, after dinner. He knocked and she soon opened the door and invited him in.

The more imaginative part of his brain had pictured her greeting him in a revealing silk robe, ushering him into a candlelit dwelling complete with soft jazz playing in the background. But this would have been out of character for her. So, he wasn't disappointed when he saw her wearing her usual t-shirt, jeans and sneakers, and was led into a messy, cluttered apartment.

"Sorry for the mess," she explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. Dirty plates, bowls and mugs littered the coffee table and kitchen counter. Empty Amazon delivery boxes of all sizes were strewn about the room. "Not worth the argument to get my roommates to clean up."

Roger had heard her complain about these roommates before. Reliable with their part of the rent, but definite slobs.

"They're both out for the evening," she added, with just a slight grin.

Roger stood awkwardly, unsure where to sit.

"My room's back here," she explained, leading him down a short hallway. Roger eagerly followed.

Ingrid's room was a shocking contrast to the living room, although completely fitting for her personality. A neatly made queen sized bed took up most of the space, but there was a desk with an office chair too, at the foot of the bed. A couple of bookshelves housed board games of all sizes, as well as D&D books, textbooks and novels.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to the office chair. "I'll be right back."

With that, she disappeared into the on-suite bathroom. Roger sat nervously, scrutinizing the names of the board games as he waited. A very short time later, Ingrid emerged from the bathroom. She was still fully clothed in her shirt and jeans, but one very important thing was different—she was barefoot.

Roger stared unabashedly at her feet as she slowly walked toward him. She had painted her toenails, a deep shade of maroon. It wasn't as exciting of a color compared to, say, bright red or green or blue, but it looked fantastic with her brown hair and eyes. She sat on the edge of her bed, feet dangling just above the floor.

"You like them?" she asked shyly.

"They're fantastic," Roger said breathlessly.

She extended her knee to rest her right foot on his thigh. His hands instinctively moved to grasp it, but he looked up at her for approval. She smiled and nodded her head.

He began with the arch, running his thumb along it, from heel to toe. The skin was impossibly soft and warm. He thumbed the outline of her big toe—such a perfect shape and size. He held the whole foot in his hand as he used the other to run a finger across the toes, slowly moving across the base of each, down to the toe cleavage, and on to the next toe. He then took each toe, one by one, between his fingers and rubbed the pad and the nail.

"You can kiss them, if you want," Ingrid offered. From the tone of her voice, Roger could tell she was finding pleasure in the act. But he knew there was no way she could be enjoying it as much as he was.

He slipped out of the office chair and fell to his knees, kissing everywhere he had just touched—along the arch and down from the big toe's nail to the pinkie. He pressed the top of the foot to his cheek, nuzzling its smooth softness as he began to massage the instep and soles.

"That feels good," she moaned softly.

Hearing her vocalize her pleasure turned him on even more and he began to massage her heel as he kissed her ankle.

"Now, this one," Ingrid directed as she moved one foot back and offered up the other. Roger attacked this one with the passionate fervor that he had shown the first.

His erection strained painfully against the confines of his pants. But, even so, he felt like he could spend hours happily doing nothing more than kissing, massaging, worshiping her perfect feet.

"Now, I want to do something," Ingrid eventually said. "Take your pants off and sit down again."

Reluctant to stop kissing her feet but excited for what was to come, Roger took down his pants and underwear and resumed his seat in the office chair.

Ingrid stepped off the bed to pull down her own pants. Her legs were skinny but looked very pale and smooth. She kept her plain white panties on. Roger noticed a darkening of the fabric at the crotch—a confirmation that all of this was turning her on.

She sat at the edge of the bed, stretched her legs to bring her feet to him. Roger rolled the chair forward until he was in the perfect position. She began by running one foot along his thigh, the soft instep caressing his skin as it slowly made its way to his now throbbing erection. When the foot arrived at its destination, she pushed gently, lightly stroking the side of his cock with her arch. She rocked her ankle, pressing her heel gently against his balls and wiggling her toes in his pubic hair.

Roger reached down to caress her calf and shin, but she gently stopped him.

"No hands," she whispered.

Roger gripped the arms of the office chair to prevent his hands from wandering. He relaxed as he let her take over.

She soon brought in her other foot, again running the length of this thigh at a teasingly slow pace before arriving at his crotch. She moved a little awkwardly at first, but soon managed to sandwich his cock in between the soles of her feet, working her legs up and down to stroke him off.

The grip wasn't as strong or as agile as a handjob would have been, but seeing her perfect toes wiggle against his shaft with each pump made the experience pleasurable beyond comparison. Roger soon felt his cock leaking copious amounts of pre-cum.

Her legs likely getting tired, Ingrid paused and leaned back in the bed to grab something from her nightstand—a big bottle of lube. Without a word, but with a very reassuring smile, she applied this liberally to his cock. Her feet returned, rubbing the liquid all around, coating his shaft, his balls, and her soles.

The light friction of her soft feet had felt good before, but the slickness of the lube allowed her to make stronger, faster movements. She pressed one foot against his cock and positioned the head between her big toe and second toe. Squeezing and wiggling, she sent shivers up his spine as she stimulated his frenulum. The other foot pressed against his balls. The clenching and unclenching of these toes kneaded his scrotum as the balls of this foot applied gentle pressure to his testicles.

Roger was delirious with pleasure and breathing hard. Ingrid must have sensed his impending climax, because she soon switched to her final position. She angled one foot behind his cock, pressed against his lower stomach, allowing the shaft to rest in the pocket of the arch. Her other foot pressed its ball forcefully against his shaft, stroking quickly along its length.

She didn't stop as Roger's hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning as his cock released successive shots of cum, which soon coated the toes of both her feet. She slowed as his breathing became less intense, but she kept his erection sandwiched between her feet.

"Was it worth the wait?" she asked teasingly.

Roger wanted nothing more than to kiss her in reply, but their current position would have made it awkward.

"Absolutely," he sighed. "That was incredible..."

"Well, I looked up some stuff online to see how to do it," she admitted, somewhat shyly.

Roger just smiled up at her. She was so nice. So eager to please. He wanted to please her too—just as soon as he recovered...

Ingrid let him enjoy his post coital glow, until the lube and cum began to dry around his now softened penis. She withdrew her feet, grabbed a handful of tissues from her nightstand and cleaned as best she could.

"I think I need to wash up..." she said with a chuckle.

"Hey, I'll be right behind you," Roger quipped playfully. He smiled to himself as he watched her walk awkwardly to the bathroom, stepping on her heels to avoid getting too much lube on the carpet. Soon the sound of water from a bath faucet came from behind the bathroom door and Roger grinned. He had really drenched those feet in cum.

She emerged a short time later, her beautiful toes clean and dry, and tossed a towel to Roger.

"All yours," she said.

Roger cleaned himself up as best he could and returned to find Ingrid sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the bathroom. She was still dressed in a t-shirt and her underwear. She patted the space beside her and Roger, still nude from the waist down, joined her on the bed. He clasped her hand in his.

"Now, how can I make this evening perfect for you?" he asked with a grin.

She leaned in for a kiss before answering him.

"I want you to fuck me," she whispered and kissed him again.

"Well, that's easy enough," Roger replied between kisses.

She stopped and leaned away.

"Well, the thing is, I'm actually a virgin," she admittedly sheepishly.

Roger considered this. It was true that, during their rooftop conversations, she had never mentioned ex-boyfriends or any specific sexual encounters. But she had never been shy talking about masturbation and sex and had spoken with the authoritative air of someone sexually experienced. He had just assumed that she had had sex before, at some point.

It didn't change anything for Roger, although it was clearly a source of embarrassment for her. He embraced her reassuringly and kissed her forehead.

"It's okay, I've looked up some stuff online to see how to do it," he explained. He felt her mouth curl into a smile as he kissed her lips.

He went slow. Partly for her sake, but also because he was still recovering and needed some more time before he could get hard again.

His kisses wandered from her lips, across her cheek and up to her ear. Pulling back her long brown hair exposed her neck and he planted more tender kisses along its pale, smooth skin, down to the shoulder. His hands rested on her thighs, although he made no moves beyond them... yet.

Her own hands hung limply at her sides. Too overwhelmed to know what to even do with them, Roger figured. But that was okay. Her quiet moans as he kissed her body were all the reassurance he needed.

When Roger returned to her lips, he did so with more intensity. His open mouth enticed her to do the same and their tongues danced across one another between kisses.

At this point, his hands advanced, wrapping around to caress the small of her back and slowly working their way up. Ingrid pulled back from their kissing to remove her glasses to the night stand and pull her shirt up over her head.

Roger smiled at her before kissing her again. He liked her glasses, but they hid so much of her face. Without them, her entire face looked, somehow, more tender. More innocent.

His hands eagerly, but slowly, explored the newly exposed skin of her back, her shoulders and arms. He broke from her lips to kiss her neck down to her chest.

Roger was willing to go slow, but she was clearly hungry for more and quickly pulled off her sports bra, exposing her petite breasts. He gingerly cupped one as he kissed around the areola. She responded with a sharp gasp and a motion of her arms that brought them to his shoulders, holding him desperately. Mindful of her obvious sensitivity, he slowly ran his tongue around the nipple before gently running over it. Her body shook as he did this and she let out a loud moan of pleasure.

Roger was definitely hard again.

Wanting a sense of symmetry, he repeated his gentle tonguing on her other breast, eliciting the same intense response. After that, Ingrid fell to the bed, rolled to her side and grabbed something from the nightstand drawer. She handed him the condom as she lifted her butt and pulled off her panties.

"I'm ready now," she said, sounding and looking giddy with anticipation.

Roger tore open the package and rolled the condom on his erection, noting with curiosity that it was the exact same brand as the ones he had brought, currently in the pocket of his pants, on the floor beside the office chair. He positioned himself atop her and brushed a strand of hair from her face as he looked down into her eyes.

"I've used a lot of sex toys over the years," she whispered to him, "so it's not going to hurt or make a mess. But please be gentle anyway."

"Whatever you want," he replied, kissing her forehead, and then her lips. She parted her legs, opening herself up to him. He gently rubbed his cock against the lips of her pussy, wet with arousal, before slowly guiding the head inside.

As he entered, her arms wrapped tightly around his back and shoulders as her thighs pressed firmly against his hips. He thrust slowly, putting just another inch or so in before pulling back and thrusting again.

Like before, he was willing to take it as slowly as he needed to, but she wordlessly directed him to increase his pace. Her right hand reached down to cup his buttock, squeezing and pulling him in deeper and deeper. Her legs tightened around his and her kisses came with a wild flurry. She had wanted it gentle, but it was now clear that she was ready to have it rough.

He thrust deep and hard as her own hips rocked against his. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, soon joined by her unrestrained moans of pleasure. He felt her body shudder in climax as she let out a final, deep groan of satisfaction. His thrusts continued until her hands on his thighs pushed in signal for him to stop.

They lay, still coupled together, both catching their breath.

"So, my dick's better than some old vibrator, right?" Roger joked.

"No," Ingrid replied with a sly grin. When Roger made a confused and hurt expression, she clarified. "A dick will never pulsate, vibrate, rotate or buzz quite like a toy can. But your chest..."

She pressed both hands gently against his broad chest, running her fingers through his sparse chest hair.

"Your shoulders..."

She wrapped her arms around his, gently massaging his back and shoulders.

"Your hands..."

She craned her neck to the side to kiss his wrist.

"And your lips..."

Roger lowered himself to her, sharing a single, long kiss.

"Are all so, so much better."

"Wow, that's a good answer," Roger said. Ingrid giggled at this, producing a pleasurable ripple of contractions on his cock, still inside of her.

She must have noticed how this affected him, because she quickly came to a realization.

"Oh, crap, you didn't come with me, did you?" she said with disappointment.

"It's okay," Roger said with a smile. "I already came once tonight. The second time can be pretty tough sometimes."

A devious grin spread across Ingrid's face.

"I bet you could come if it's on my feet again..."

Roger returned her smile, pulled himself out of her and moved to stand by the side of the bed. She sat up and turned to face him, her feet tucked against her body, positioned at the edge of the bed. Roger shucked off the condom and began to stroke himself over her feet. He was already a lot closer to the edge than he had thought.

Ingrid smiled warmly at him as he masturbated, gently rocking her heels back and forth.

"They really want a second coating of cum tonight," she said playfully, flexing and wiggling her toes.

It was more than Roger could handle. He let out an involuntary grunt of pleasure as he blew his load across her feet. He squeezed out every drop of cum onto her toes, admiring how its opacity altered the color of the nails and how it pooled in the toe cleavage.

"Do you want to take a picture of your handiwork?" she asked him as he caught his breath.

Roger furrowed his brow. It was an amazing sight. But he had a better response.

"A picture would be a beautiful thing to remember you by," he said thoughtfully. "But I get the feeling I'm going to be seeing a lot of these feet in the future. I think I'd rather have you than a picture."

"That's a good answer," she replied.

They both smiled and leaned in for another kiss—one of many, many more to come.