My Co-workers Feet

I had been dealing with a raging hard on for most of our conversation, and it was rock solid now. I made a conscious effort to make good eye contact and keep my eyes off her feet. Her bare thighs were directly in front of me, her face to my right, and those tempting feet to my left. So, I did my best to not focus on anything, but my eyes drifted to her feet more often than not as I was trying hard not to stare at her tits.

At one point my eyes drifted to her feet again, and the big toe almost waved to me. Then it did it again. There was a pause, then it waved to me again. One second later, after the third wave, it almost seemed to point backwards towards her torso a few times, almost directing my attention that direction.

'Oh shit! Busted?' I thought anxiously to myself. 'Am I freaking busted? Please let her just be stretching them again!!!'

My eyes moved past her thighs, her bare belly, and then her bikini covered tits and I re-established eye contact. I almost immediately shit my pants at her reaction. A huge knowing smile stretched across her face. She knew exactly what was going on. Her face said it all, but her next words confirmed it beyond any doubt:

"Do you like my feeeeet, Jeeeeeeffffff?" She asked coyly, exaggerating "feet" and my name for effect.

Chapter 2: The hot tub situation escalates for Jeff

"Do you like my feeeeet, Jeffffff?" She asked coyly, exaggerating "feet" and my name for effect.

'Shit fucking God DAMN!' I thought to myself. 'What the hell am I going to say? I travel with her all the fucking time!'

'Did the rum make me careless? This second drink is pretty strong...' I thought as my mind raced for an response

Lucky for me, I have always been quick with responses in social situation.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh Please!" she exclaimed. "You are joking, right?"

"I don't know, I...." I trailed off, suddenly unsure what to say.

"Come on Jeff, let's be honest here, we both know I caught you staring at them three times before I waved with my toes. You know I caught you, right? We both know. I mean, I smiled a little smile cuz it was kinda cute and harmless, but you know I saw you do it. Right?" Her smile only widened, if that were possible.

'Damn, OK, maybe time to come clean a bit without looking like a perv...' I thought to myself. I had to respond:

"Well, I mean they were right in front of me, so maybe I did. Sorry if I did, it wasn't deliberate. Honest." I said, hoping to put this growing fire of an issue out ASAP.

"Really? How old do you think I am?" she said, her smile disappearing for the moment. "You aren't going to deny it, are you? It's OK, you know I'm not going to go all "Me Too Movement" on you." She said in a bit of an exacerbated tone, using air quotes at the "Me Too" social movement that had outed so many men over recent years.

"I know that, but you are right across from me." I said, knowing as soon as it exited my mouth that it was not going to throw water on the fire.

"Ok, I thought about that, and I had a theory that I tested." She said, the huge knowing smile returning as her face seemed to light up. "I caught you looking at my feet and not my crotch or boobs despite the fact I'm in a skimpy bikini. I mean honestly, everything is on display here, right?" She said, holding her hands over her boobs as she did so. "So, this last time I got out I sat this way on purpose. I wanted to see if your eyes followed my boobs or my feet. Then, we both know I got my answer!" She said in a bit of a bratty way, letting out a sexy and somehow dominant laugh as she spoke the words. She stared on me with that smile and beaming look on her face, awaiting my response.

"Well, I'm not sure what to say." I said truthfully, unsure of what came next.

"It's your turn to talk. I told you my side. I told you it was OK. Talk to me. Maybe start by answering my question about liking my feet or not."

She said that last line in an almost nurturing tone, encouraging me to open up.

"Man, I don't know what to say..." I stammered a bit.

"Ya better say something."

"OK, I guess we both know you know, so yeah, I like them. They are super cute, the blue toes match everything. I had never seen your feet before, I was curious." I started to open up. I only let out a little, unsure of how much to say.

"Never? Seriously? I guess I don't wear sandals at the bank, do I?" she replied as she considered the statement I had just made.

"No. Believe me, I have checked." I said with a light smile and laugh, trying to lighten my anxiety a bit.

"And never in our travels?"

"No, not that I have noticed... and I obviously would have noticed!" I joked, poking fun at myself a bit, hoping to steer us off the topic of my being busted and outed as a foot lover.

"Ok, well you got your fill now!" she quipped, bringing us back to the issue at hand. "If I were your wife, what would you want to do with my feet? Could I coax a nice foot rub out of you some night?"

"Ha, I don't know if that's a good idea." I said, unsure if she were joking.

"Ok then, back to my question: in a perfect world where what happens in the hotel stays in the hotel, what would you want to do with my feet?"

"Kelly, I don't know if I could..."

"Oh come on, Jeff!" she teased with a laugh, "We are both adults. I'm not cheating on my hubby with you or any other man, so that's off the table if it were ever on a table. Just answer the question."

"I used to rub my wife's feet, yeah. I miss it now that we are divorced."

"And...." She urged me to continue.

"Well..... I..... oh, screw it," I said as I gave up and opened up to her "I would lick her feet, suck on her toes, and massage and caress every inch of both of her feet. I would do it until my mouth was tired, tongue was tired, or until she went to sleep or got up and did whatever. Other times I wanted her feet to be on my face, she didn't have to do anything, just rest her soles and toes on my face or chest or something like that."

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?!" she said in a sarcastic yet nurturing tone. "And did I hear you say you miss it? Do you have anyone to play footsy with now a days?" she asked, her tone changing to a curious one. The tone in her voice and look in her face told me she honestly wanted to know, I didn't think there was any subterfuge here.

"Well, not exactly no. I do have a.." I paused, unsure of how to describe my friend with benefits. "...friend I see periodically, not quite weekly, but I haven't told her about my foot thing..." I said, trailing off before putting all the details out there.

"Why not? She may like it? She may LOVE it?" Kelly questioned, trying to dig deeper into the subject.

"Maybe. Maybe not? The relationship, or whatever it is, is moving slowly and I'm not sure if she is ready to take the next step and even be exclusive." I paused for another drink of my rum mixer that I didn't think I needed, but I drank anyway and continued:

"I'm trying not to do anything to scare her away. I pressed for the next step weeks ago and she didn't go for it. I hope someday soon maybe, but I'm content to wait and slow play it with her."

"Ok. Do you want to know why I asked?" she said.

"Um, sure?" I replied, unsure where she was going.

"I love getting my feet pampered but my husband just isn't into it. He just doesn't do feet. It's just not his thing. He will if I really ask, but I know he doesn't want to, so I don't usually ask. It's also not as fun when its one sided, ya know what I mean?" She started to open up a bit in response to his admissions on the subject. She continued:

"It's amazing to have a foot guy worshiping my feet. I love it. I freaking love it! My boyfriend in college was a foot boy and we talked about it a lot. He also took very good care of my tootsies!" she said with a giggle as she wiggled all ten toes.

"But, we talked a lot about how so many guys have a foot fetish for women's feet that they hide in shame. He had a foot fetish, so he knew when other guys did by just hearing comments they made or watching them check out a girl's feet. He knew the signs, we talked a lot, now I know the signs too.

"Then we broke up, I met my hubby not too long after that, now my feet are lonely. Then here comes Jeff, showing every tell in the "hiding my foot fetish" playbook." She said, using air quotes as she spoke. "I think we can help each other out: do you want to lick my feet and suck my toes?"

My jaw probably dropped.

'Did she just say that?' I remember thinking. 'How drunk am I?'

"You serious?" I asked with an upward inflection implying a question.

"Hell yeah! Didn't I just say we were adults and I'm not cheating on my hubby with you or anyone else? I don't see the problem. He doesn't like feet. You do. But if I were to guess, you don't get to play with any right now and probably haven't for a while. I want my feet pampered and adored. We are both sitting here. Why not?"

"Now?"

"No, how is your December?" She joked, but continued, "Yeah, now! Refill your "Coke" (her air quotes came out again) and I will be in your room in 10 minutes after I change. You can even wash the hot tub water off my feet!"

'Change? God dammit' I thought silently. 'This would be so much more amazing if she kept the bikini...'

"Well? You in? The suspense is killing me!" she joked and pressed the issue. It seemed I thought to myself a few seconds too long.

"Cool!" I replied, still stoked at what may happen. "Yeah, I'm in!"

"Great!"

She got out and walked away and back to her lounger with her clothes. I stared at her ass every step of the way. I had a thought, but I had to move fast or the moment would be gone.

'Ah screw it, she is almost more into this than me. I'm going for it!' I thought as I spoke:

"I'm in 209, but one more thing..." I said as I got out and she continued to dry off, still in only the bikini. "Why change? You look so good right now and why wait the 10 minutes. I guess I'm ok..." I tried to sound diplomatic, but I'm sure I had a huge grin on my face. "..if you don't change and just wear your swimsuit. It does look comfortable."

"Jeff, are you trying to keep my from putting my clothes on?" she asked. I was unsure what was happening or how she took that, so I thought fast:

"It's your call, obviously I would cover up to walk through the hotel if it were me, but I'm OK if you wear your swimsuit through some foot fun."

"Ha! I'm sure you would be! I'm sure you are only worried about myyyy comfort." She said, exaggerating the word "my" to make fun of my rationale for trying to keep her in her bikini.

"Well, if that's what you want." I replied smoothly (I thought...)

"Jeff, you charmer.... I'm going to have to watch that! I'm still going to my room for wine. Turn up the temp in your room: I'm not wearing this if it 65 degrees in there!" she said, running her right hand up and down her torso. "75 degrees, minimum."

"Yes ma'am." I replied obediently.

"That's right!" she said, brattily while snapping her fingers at me.

She got dressed and left the pool area as I followed, gawking at her ass as her gym shorts slowly soaked through that telltale pattern of the bikini they were covering.

I got to my room, cranked the heat to 75, waited for it to kick on, then sat and pondered what had just happened. Was this really happening? Was she actually going to come back, strip to a bikini, and let me worship her feet? Would she get cold feet (no pun intended) and text me an excuse for why she can't follow through?

As my head raced, there was a light knock at the door. I answered in an instant, nearly running to the door.

"Can't wait for these feet, huh?" she teased playfully, "I like that." she continued.

"Now, about my feet, I want them washed first. That hot tub water could be just gross, and I can smell the chlorine in that room. If they are going in your mouth, they need attention." She continued as she walked by me, entered the bathroom, put the toilet lid down, and sat on it.

"Come here, I thought maybe the fun could start with you washing them for me?" she said in an unconfident tone, seemingly unsure if she was crossing a line. I felt I should go with it and make sure she is comfortable with everything that I hoped was about to happen.

"Yeah," I said cheerfully, "I would be happy to wash them."

I knelt down and scooted forward after grabbing the body wash, washrag, and hand towel. I leaned over the tub, turned on the water, and let it pool in the bottom of the tub. As it pooled, she silently lifted her feet out of her flip flops and put them in the tub.

I wetted the rag in the water pooling in the tub, lathered up some body wash, and reached for the closest foot. She had other plans, crossing her right leg over her left and presenting that beautiful right foot for me to wash.

I savored the moment, inspecting every inch of her foot up close as I washed it thoroughly. I checked out her heel, as I started there, and found it smooth and moisturized with so major dryness or callouses. I moved to her soles and found them to be as soft and supple as they looked when I was staring at them in the hot tub just a bit ago. I caressed them with the rag lightly as not to cause discomfort but enough to clean them. I moved to her toes and took my time to gently clean each toe as well as between each toe. I was I heaven! I could only hope she was too...

"You are good at this Jeff. This is the cleanest my foot has been since my last pedi." She complimented. I beamed inside.

'Holy shit this is happening! Holy shit I may get to lick her feet! Holy shit she may strip to that bikini again!' my mind raced with excitement as I tried to live in the moment as best as I could.

She put her right foot down and lifted her left foot as she spoke more commands:

"Now I can't cross my legs to make it easy on you, you might have to have to hold my foot up as you wash it. Gently, and nothing north of my mid-calf. I hope that's OK."

There it was again, that uncertain tone. I obeyed again without question or hesitation, and I worried again she may be uncomfortable. I thought fast and spoke:

"Totally fine, I just want to make sure you are enjoying and cool with everything."

I cleaned as I spoke, again taking in the moment and trying to memorize every inch of her feet. When I got done, she spoke again.

"How could anyone not like this kind of attention." She replied.

I finished and she lifted her legs to take her feet out of the tub and put her flip flops back on. I held up a finger in that universal "Hold on a minute" gesture.

"I have an idea that would keep your feet this clean. I don't know how clean the flips flops are, and they are damp with hot tub water. How about this?" I said as I crawled backwards (I was scared to try to stand, a boner in swim trunks stands out as much as a boner in sweatpants) and grabbed a bathtowel and laid it out on the bathroom floor.

She took her feet out of the tub, put them on the towel, and looked down at me:

"This towel isn't long enough to take me to a comfy seat, Jeff." She said in a playfully challenging tone.

"Yes ma'am" I said as I grabbed the other three towels and spread them in front of her as I crawled in reverse out of the bathroom. Once out of view I stood and fixed the raging boner threatening to rip through my shorts.

She walked out on her white carpet until she reached the end of the last towel. It was still not close enough to reach the bed, so I walked back to the beginning, picked up the first three towels, and laid them down in front of her. Now, her feet didn't have to touch the dirty hotel carpet. I was insanely turned on as I dutifully rolled out the "red" carpet for her

"Good job Jeff, I'm sure that's why we are paying you the big money: your attention to detail!" she said.

"Thank you, ma'am" I replied

"OK, we might have to stop with the ma'am though. I like the term of respect, but you are older than I am! What else do you have? I do like the idea of a nickname for me when you are tending to my feet."

Her tone changed for an instant as she finished the thought. Maybe a hint of dominance came out? Maybe some honest entitlement or brattiness? I wasn't sure, but it was gone as quick as it appeared. I liked it. I wanted more of it.

"I don't know, let me think on it."

"Deal. Where shall I sit?"

We talked a bit about what would be most comfortable for her while putting her feet in a good spot for me to attend to. It was a bit awkward to talk about, but the conversation was short and to the point. We decided she would sit in the office chair, and it would be between the two beds. She could lean back against the nightstand and watch TV as she liked, and I could sit on the floor and pamper her. I laid a towel in front of the chair so she could rest her newly cleaned feet on it and not the nasty carpet.

She stood in front of the chair, on the towel, and looked at me as I stood at the foot of the bed. There was an awkward pause, and she broke it by bringing back her unsure tone:

"So, I guess my clothes come off now, right Jeff?." she taunted through a smile as she continued, "Ya know, for myyy comfort? And since you are so worried about myyy comfort..." she said with a mischievous smile as she peeled off her top and then shimmied out or her gym shorts.

Here I was, standing before her, taking in her barely covered body, seconds from putting her perfect feet in my anxiously waiting mouth. I felt I had to say something, so I said:

"You do make that swimsuit look very good, Kelly."

"Ha!" She clapped back, "but it is a small price to pay to get my feet pampered for a little while. So, how does this start anyway?" she said as she sat down in the office chair and leaned back slightly.

"You aren't going to make me beg, are you?"

"No ma'am." I started, "Wait, no, sorry, not ma'am. No Kelly, I think I should be the one begging you for this." I said, trying to recover quickly from the "ma'am" comment she just told me to stop using.

"Maybe next time you can beg, I'm already here." she said as she lifted her right foot and wiggled her toes. This movement forced me to my knees before her. Once there, I sat on my heels and reached for the foot currently seducing me. I paused and spoke:

"We sure about this?" I asked stupidly, immediately regretting saying it and giving her a way out of the situation.

"Well, I think so?" she said through that same unsure voice, exaggerating the word "think" for effect.

"Ok, just making sure you are Ok."

"I'm OK Jeff. My feet are yours, be good to them." She said confidently as she wiggled her toes again. This made me feel so much better. This was going to happen!

I went for it. I leaned forward, flattened my tongue, lifted her foot up just a bit, and licked from heel to the end of her big toe. She giggled as I licked across her arch. I tasted a bit of coconut from the body wash, but sadly her foot didn't have much of a taste.

I smelled between her toes, but there was not a distinct smell outside of the coconut body wash again. They didn't smell as they were a bit too clean, I realized. My ex-wife's feet always had a distinctive taste and smell of feet, specifically the smell of feminine feet. These had none of that.

'God damn that shower and hot tub!' I thought as I continued to smell between the toes. 'I wonder what they would smell and taste like fresh out of shoes?'

I continued to lick the bottoms of her foot and gently nibble on her heel. I immediately felt better as I did.

'Screw it!' I thought. 'This is amazing, I don't care if they are too clean or not. This may be the only time I ever do this with her, I better frickin' make the most of it.'

I moved up and began to lick between her toes. I started with the big toe and the next toe, and when I did so she let out an ever so subtle moan of pleasure. I looked up and made eye contact and saw she was staring right back at me.