Kelly's Perfect Feet Pt. 02

Note from the author: Thanks to those who offered feedback and encouraged me to continue the story. I'm glad I did and hope that you enjoy it. I always try to make my stories believable and psychological. I hope you might consider reading my non-fetish stories, too. Happy reading and thanks again for your feedback.

*****

I knew exactly which liquor store Jim was headed for to pick up the tequila. Kelly had asked him to get some limes as well, in order to "buy us more time," but I seemed to remember that store selling limes, too. But then again, maybe not, which would have required Jim to walk a bit more out of his way afterwards to the supermarket. These were the calculations flying through my head as Kelly and I walked back in the house to continue the foot massage on the couch. I figured Kelly and I had at least another 15 minutes alone, or potentially up to half an hour before Jim got back.

I should reiterate that Kelly and I were very good friends, but this was the first time we had spent any amount of time together without Jim. That aspect alone might have made it awkward enough for Kelly under more ordinary circumstances. But there we were, after my having just come out to her as a foot fetishist and an avid admirer of her feet in particular, on her boyfriend's couch about to... well, I wasn't yet sure; at the very least, to continue the foot massage I was giving her, and hopefully more.

Kelly and I had positioned ourselves on the couch so that we were on diagonals facing each other, as if, well, as if we were on a first date about to make out or something. But no, that was not at all the energy between us.

"So..." she led, with a curious smile on her face. In that brief yet suspenseful silence I got the feeling that she was fully aware of how madly turned on I was. Whether or not she realized it already, I was putty in her hands, so much so that I would have crawled to the ends of the earth for the privilege of kissing her feet. She delicately slipped out of her flip flops and lifted her legs, displayed generously in her little shorts. She swiveled from her hips to turn towards me and gently rested both of her gorgeous bare feet on my outer thigh.

"Where were we?" said Kelly, in a manner that toed the line between friendly and flirtatious. It was obvious that she was more than comfortable having her feet massaged. What I couldn't be so sure of was whether or not she would be game for more. When the three of us discussed my fetish earlier, there was some talk about foot jobs as this sort of "out there" sex act, but the topic of foot worship never came up. I wondered how she might respond were I to reach down and kiss her feet just once, but my courage was waning a bit.

"Well, I believe you were getting a much needed foot rub," I answered as I held her right foot and began kneading her soles with my thumbs. Again, she hummed with approval and tilted her head back. She arched her back as she sank into the couch. As she did so, the bottom of her tank top came riding up to show a bit of her midriff. She realized her belly button was showing and reached with both hands to tug her shirt back down. As she did this, her arms hugged her boobs, and a bit of cleavage emerged from her top. Right then I appreciated anew that Kelly possessed not only my ideal pair of feet, but also a downright hot little body by any standard. Jim is a lucky man, I thought. But it also occurred to me then that he can't quite appreciate Kelly the way I do - from the top of her head to the very tips of her toes.

"So..." Kelly broke the silence before things might have felt awkward. "You used to do this all the time for Lucy?" she asked, referring to my ex-girlfriend.

"Yup. I made sure she never knew though," I answered, "you know, that I like feet. It was torture at times."

"I could imagine. Must have been hard having to keep a secret like that from your girlfriend for so long," said in a sympathetic tone.

"Well, sure, that was part of it. It was also uh..." I trailed off as I continued to massage her foot.

"Also what?"

"It was also having her feet right there, so close, but not being able to... um, well... You have to fight these... urges... ugh, I don't know. This is getting embarrassing..."

"No, no, tell me. I'm totally curious. What were you so dying to do?"

"Well, nothing crazy, really," I finally came out with it, "I just wanted to... kiss them."

Kelly didn't seem shocked or disturbed at the thought of it. I imagined that she might have been surprised that it wasn't something stranger.

"Kiss...her feet? That's it?" she asked with a comforting smile.

"Yeah. Toes, especially. Every time I massaged Lucy's feet, it was like... It was like there was a gravitational pull," I explained. "It felt like my mouth was getting drawn in toward her feet, and I had to physically fight myself not to plunge in and kiss them. Like I said, torture."

I felt like I managed to explain that pretty well, all while continuing to rub Kelly's foot. By then the kneading with my thumbs had gradually shifted to a more sensual caressing of the length of her foot, up to the base of her toes.

"Well..." uttered Kelly, breaking another silence. "Are you in torture now?" she asked as a mischievous smile began to creep in at the corners of her mouth.

"Yes, I kind of am. No, well, I don't know...This is both pleasure and torture at the same time. Your feet are so perfect they're... they're driving me fucking crazy. I hope you don't mind that I'm telling you this."

"Not at all!" By this point her smile had spread ear to ear. She was glowing. Was it simply that she was flattered? No, it was more than that. Reflecting back now, I think, in that moment, she felt powerful. Of course she did. Here I was, literally at her feet, wanting nothing more in the world than to worship her, fumbling my words as I gazed in awe of perfection. There's no way Jim could ever have made her feel so empowered.

As that thought crossed my mind, I remembered something important: Jim was on his way back from the store. How many minutes had passed since Jim sent his last text? My mind was so transported I had no idea, and again, my courage was draining. It occurred to me to maybe just get up from the couch immediately, in fear that Jim might bust through the door any second.

"Shit, how long has it been since Jim texted you?" I asked breathlessly.

"Oh god," Kelly suddenly mirrored my panic. "At least 20 minutes. Wait I'm not sure. Shit."

Kelly kicked her legs away from me, to my great disappointment, and hurriedly got up from the couch. She darted around for a second and found her phone. "It was 25 minutes ago!" She immediately began texting.

Her message read: "WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Come on, Jim! Answer!" she implored as she glared at her phone's screen. There was a sense of urgency on Kelly's part that was surprising. She didn't want this to end either.

Jim's response came: "ON MY WAY"

That could have meant 5 minutes; it could have meant any minute now. Kelly seemed to think it meant closer to 5 minutes.

"Come here," she commanded, as she plopped herself back on the couch. She laid her feet on the couch where I'd been sitting before. "We have a few minutes."

I awkwardly sat at the edge of the couch, my ass half hanging off. I reached for her feet and began rubbing both of them. She shot me a look of disapproval.

"You've given plenty of foot rubs in your life. Don't get me wrong; you're great at it. But you always wanted more. Show me what you always wanted to try but were afraid to."

For a moment I froze. It was as if my wildest dream was about to come true, but I was also acutely aware that Jim could have been turning the corner ready to bust through that door.

"Come on, Erik. Show me. Just a bit. Before Jim gets home. This can be our little secret."

Then, as if she'd flipped some switch within me, I abandoned all inhibition. I drew her left foot toward my mouth and my eyes got sucked into her red toenails. I felt a surge in my balls and lost control. I leaned forward and planted my lips right at the base of her toes. I held for a moment right there, letting the moisture of my lips attach to the softest skin imaginable. I breathed in the sweet, intoxicating smell. My eyes rolled back as a single, violent shiver shot down my back. This was a level of arousal previously unknown to me.

Kelly kept an eye out the window with a good angle down the sidewalk Jim would take home. I trusted she would stop me the moment she saw the faintest silhouette of Jim approaching. And so I went on, this time taking her right foot, kissing up the length of her arch. My lips reached the joint between the ball of her foot and big toe and stayed there for a moment. I took in the smell again as my hard-on raged farther upward. I needed a taste.

"Oh god..." I muttered, "I'm going crazy. I've wanted this for so long."

I let just the tip of my tongue wet the base of her big toe. I glanced up for a reaction from Kelly. She took her eye off the window to look down at me and flashed another one of her devilish smiles, as if to say, 'keep going.' Encouraged, I parted my lips wider and took in her candy-colored big toe in my mouth. Kelly let out a high-pitched moan that fanned the flame. I sucked her gently and swirled my tongue around, which was met with further vocal approval: "Oh my god... that feels fucking wild."

Just as my wildest dream was becoming reality, it had to end. Kelly reached down, touched my hair, and drew her feet away. She saw through the window that Jim was now just down the street and approaching swiftly. Time was up. She slipped on her flip flops and hopped off the couch without a word. I suppose it went without saying: act naturally.

Jim swung open the door cheerfully singing our college's fight song on "da da da." I don't think he ever knew the words to that damn song, but it was pretty clear that he was tipsy and ready for more booze.

"Eriiiik, you ready for this shit??" He triumphantly raised his arms, a handle of cheap tequila in one hand and a bagful of food in the other.

"Yeah man, let's do this," I answered, as we headed over to the kitchen. Kelly was preparing ice for our margaritas, twisting the ice cube trays less than adeptly. One of the ice cubes popped up and landed on the floor right at her feet. Knowing Jim was facing away from us slicing limes, I reached down to pick up the ice cube and stole another close look at her pretty red toes. It occurred to me then, that my face might never come so close to her feet again. Was her curiosity with my fetish already satisfied? Might there be something in it for her, to be so worshipped by me? Might we ever pick up where we left off? These thoughts swirled in my brain while I lingered there a moment, staring at the picture of perfection.

"DUDE!"

Jim had turned around to find me kneeling down at Kelly's feet. I sprung back into attention, but it was pretty clear what I was doing. I couldn't tell in that moment whether he was amused or upset.

"Were you checking out Kelly's feet?"

I got up immediately and showed him the ice cube that I picked up. "No, no. This fell on the floor."

"Oh come on, man. It's ok. Admit it; you were checking out my girl's feet."

"I uhh, I...No...! I really wasn't," I stuttered back.

"Jim, it's ok. Don't embarrass him. He wasn't doing anything." said Kelly.

"I'm telling you, Erik," he said calmly, "it's ok if you were. Seriously, man. I mean, as far as feet go, I'm guessing Kelly's are pretty good-looking, right?"

I didn't know what to say, but I had to say something. I told the truth, albeit a gross understatement. "Yes, Kelly's got great feet."

Kelly raised her eyebrows, as if to appear surprised, and exchanged a glance with Jim, who smirked and shrugged. "Well, we can drink to that," he said, "that's high praise from an expert! You should be flattered, Kelly!"

I watched Kelly respond with an awkward chuckle, but Jim was still smiling. It seemed that everything was ok. "Well, let's get drinking and grilling, shall we?" said Kelly, seemingly eager to change the subject.

And we did; we began by discussing whether we wanted our margaritas blended or on the rocks. We decided on the former, whipped up a batch, and headed out to the porch to grill our food. Jim complemented me on how hot the grill had gotten from the coals Kelly and I prepared. Little did he know that I did nothing more than light them, leave them, and proceed to massage and worship his girl's feet.

I felt guilty, really guilty, but I also wasn't absolutely sure that Jim would necessarily think of what happened as cheating. I wasn't yet sure how Kelly thought of it either. I imagined that maybe the thing she felt most conflicted about, if at all, was not that it happened, but that we were keeping it a secret from Jim. Really, I can only guess how non-foot-fetishists think. For me, what happened with Kelly while Jim was gone was extremely erotic, and even intimate, and definitely a violation of friendship. Part of me wanted to fess up; part of me hoped it would happen again and again; and yet another part of me questioned whether or not the two scenarios were necessarily mutually exclusive.

I decided I would tell him a revised version of some, not all, of what happened. I could tell him that the conversation the three of us had drove me crazy, and that I begged Kelly to let me massage her feet. I wanted, as best I could, to put it all on me, in order to implicate Kelly as little as possible.

"Jim, I need to tell you something..." I saw Kelly's face turn pale. "While you were out..."

"Aww shit!" Jim interrupted, as it began to rain. It came on suddenly and quickly turned heavy. We covered the grill and brought what food we'd already cooked, along with our drinks, back in the house. We all took our shoes off, and of course my eyes involuntarily darted down to watch Kelly slip out of her flip flops. We set our food down at the dining table, which Jim never much liked to use, in fear that he might spill something on Kelly's prized table cloth. But it was now pouring out with the patio table uncovered, and the kitchen table was a bit of a mess, so we sat down at the dining table, Jim and Kelly on one side and me across on the other.

From all that hassle I had momentarily forgotten that I was within just a few words of confessing to Jim that I massaged Kelly's feet while he was gone. We were all starving, though, and needed something in our stomachs to soak up all the liquor we were having, and so we began to eat. Jim left the table to grab some chips from the kitchen.

Kelly shot a severe look at me from across the table, as if to say, 'don't you dare rat me out.' Without speaking, I tried to convey to her, 'don't worry I know what I'm doing,' but she looked unconvinced and anxious. Jim returned with a bowl of chips and sat back down next to Kelly.

"Erik, you were about to say something." His tone remained casual.

"Ah, right. Yes. Well, I don't really know how to say it, so I'll just-" I froze as I felt something brush up against my crotch. It was Kelly's foot under the table, her leg extended yet entirely concealed by the table cloth. Jim was none the wiser, though he was puzzled that I stopped mid-sentence. Kelly was staring directly at me, and the corners of her mouth hinted another devilish smile. My cock twitched and began to grow immediately.

"I, uhh...well, while you were out, I-" Again I stopped dead in my tracks, as Kelly started to glide her foot up and down my crotch. Her toes found and stroked my shaft struggling against my shorts.

"Erik, just spit it out, man," said Jim, still completely oblivious to what was happening under the table. Kelly had hijacked my confession, controlling me with every caress, as my cock felt out the contour of her perfectly proportioned foot. This was simultaneous ecstasy and agony, and I didn't want it to end. By this point Jim looked totally confused.

"Well, I, uh..." I fought not to let my arousal show in my face, but it was difficult; my voice quivered, as Kelly continued her torture, her gaze fixed on me completely. "I...uhh... broke one of your wine glasses."

I couldn't believe I lied, or that I could even come up with such a lie on the spot. It was as if Kelly was controlling me like some evil genius puppet master.

"Oh, that's all? Dude, forget about it, man. I got those at IKEA." Jim, unmoved, unsuspecting, took another bite of sausage.

"Yeah, Erik and I cleaned up all the broken glass," Kelly chimed in as she moved her foot away. "I told him that we have enough of those glasses, and we were going to get nicer ones some day anyway." Jim confirmed with a simple, "Yup, no worries."

And, well, that was about it. The rest of the day proceeded more or less normally. We ate and drank some more. The rain cleared, and Jim went out to put out the coals. Kelly and I did not exchange any more knowing glances. In fact, she behaved, quite convincingly, as though nothing had happened. I volunteered to do the dishes and take out the trash primarily to ensure that Jim wouldn't notice that there was, in fact, no sign of any broken glass in the trash. That all went smoothly, and the last thing we did was watch some TV on the couch while Jim and Kelly cuddled a bit. I left after a while, though not before being greeted with a remarkably normal hug from Kelly and a typical, bro-y hug from Jim.

When I got home, I legitimately thought for a moment that the whole day might have been an elaborate dream. In one day, I came out to my friends as a foot fetishist, massaged and kissed Kelly's feet, the ones I'd always fantasized about, sucked her toes, even. And to top it all off, she nearly rubbed me off with her foot under the table unbeknownst to Jim sitting next to her. This was no dream, and I had the pre-cum on my boxers to prove it.

My balls needed some serious relief after everything Kelly put them through. I wacked off replaying the incredible events of the day. I was glad to find that masturbating using my imagination is much more vivid and gratifying when I can reference actual events.

In my mind I sat myself back on that couch with Kelly, my lips up against the base of her toes. I kissed up and down her elegant arches. I took her smaller toes in my mouth and moved on to give her big toe a good luxurious sucking. As I felt myself close to coming, my imagination transported me back to the dining table with her foot stroking me. This time, however, I imagined myself exposed with my shorts down. My mind was so alive I swore I could almost feel her angel soft feet teasing me, caressing me. Placing my cock between her two arches, she stroked me gently at first and gradually faster. My mind's eye zoomed in on the image of her cherry-colored toes, as I came harder than any other time I could remember.

It might have been the most fun I'd ever had masturbating, but obviously there's nothing like the real thing. And there's nothing in the world like Kelly's feet. I thought back to the incredibly sexy way Kelly behaved when we were alone. She was a different creature altogether, not at all the straight-laced, elementary school music teacher I knew. Maybe it was the revelation that she possesses such beautiful feet that ignited something in her. I liked to think that I might have awakened a different side of Kelly's sexuality, one that remains unknown to Jim.

I continued to reflect on all this until I heard my phone receive a text. I pulled out my phone and gasped to see what was displayed on the screen: a photo of Kelly's feet. It was sent by her, and she must have taken the picture herself. The angle taken in the picture was just right. I could tell she took it on her bed and that she made sure to show off her pedicured toes, as well as the delicate curve of her arches and soft heels. What an incredible treat.