Old recluse wins the Latina lottery

This story begins with my decision to employ a housekeeper to help me maintain my grand and, largely unused, home. As a single man living alone, and rapidly approaching my late sixties, I decided that some assistance would be necessary in order to keep my house in a presentable state, not that I had many visitors anyway. I had let myself go in the past couple of decades; I was overweight and certainly not in the best physical condition to be getting on my hands and knees scrubbing and polishing.

I placed an advert online and it wasn't long before I began to receive some responses. The first thing that I noticed was that the vast majority of applicants had names of Spanish origin. I suppose this shouldn't have surprised me as this industry, certainly in my part of the world, is generally dominated by women originally from Latin America. As I mentioned, I received a number of responses, most likely due to the generous pay packet I was offering with room and board included.

One application stood out due to the wealth of experience listed on the lady's resume; albeit, all done in, what I imagine was her home country of, Puerto Rico. Miss Camila Vazquez, forty-three years old. Via the website I had advertised on, I sent a message to Ms Vazquez to invite her to my home for an interview and, after she responded, we set a date for the following Saturday at noon.

Ms Vazquez greeted me warmly as she entered the porch and my first impression was that she would have been a real head-turner back in her heyday but even now, at the age of forty-three, she still had nice curves, in spite of her 5-foot 9 frame, as well as a pretty face and luscious, long black hair. What appealed to me the most, however, was further south than all of that. Her feet were truly delectable and it was a constant struggle for the following hour to stop myself from physically drooling all over them, let alone keep my eyes off them. She was wearing a battered pair of flip flops which she slid off in the porch and this just drove me even crazier as the tan lines they had made on her feet became more apparent. Her skin tone would be best described as caramel; a delicious light brown that complemented the bright red nail polish of her toes exceptionally. Moving on to her toes, they were perfectly shaped and pedicured and there were the faint beginnings of wrinkles on them; another sexy sign of her elegant approach to ageing. Despite her obviously being a working lady, from what I could see, her feet did not appear calloused at all and this reaffirmed my opinion that this woman knew how to take care of herself.

I managed to get over my adulation and began my tour of the house. I showed her round the whole property, including her prospective room which she seemed impressed with. After we had finished the tour, I offered her a cup of coffee and we sat in the living room to have a chat about the finer details of the position I was offering (her English was broken and heavily accented but we managed). She appeared to be very keen and said this was exactly what she was looking for as she had been struggling to find work since moving to the country a couple of months ago. She had managed to obtain a visa due to connections her ex-husband had had but now that he was no longer in the picture, she was on her own and needed some sort of income and somewhere to stay long term. She also had a daughter back home and needed to send money back in order to help her finish her education so that she could gain a scholarship to an American college which would allow them to be reunited.

I told her that I sympathised with her situation and that I would be in touch as soon as I had done the relevant background checks. At the mention of this, I saw her face sink for a split second before perking up into a bigger smile and thanking me. As she slipped her flip flops back on and made to leave, I could've sworn I saw a little smirk in the corner of her mouth as she caught me looking down at her feet. I embarrassedly bid her farewell and closed the door.

In truth, I had wanted to give her the job on the spot but I knew that it was necessary to protect myself by verifying her identity and working rights online. Later that day, once I had found the relevant website and submitted her details, I was surprised to learn that Camila did not have working rights in the US. I rang her up immediately and informed her of my findings;

"Hi, is that Camila?"

"Yes, Mr Harris! You have the job for me?!"

"I'm sorry Camila, but I've checked your details and visa eligibility and you do not have working rights in this country! Why did you lie to me?"

"I am so sorry mister. Please, you must understand. My ex-husband left me with nothing and does not give money for my daughter school. Please you give me this job and you pay cash so no one will know I am illegal!"

I could not believe I was even entertaining this conversation but something about her helpless tone made me believe this was worth pursuing and so I replied;

"Do you realise how much trouble I could get in for employing you? With the money I'm offering, I can easily find another housekeeper who actually has working rights for this country! Thanks for your application Ms Vazquez but..."

She did not let me finish and almost screamed;

"But I can do for you more than they can!"

"Excuse me? What do you mean by that?"

"Please mister, I saw how you looking at my feet"

"You've lost me, I don't know what you're getting at."

"Please mister, they will be all yours. You can do anything you want with them."

A brief pause followed as I considered her offer. I, an unattractive, overweight man in his sixties, who had gone my whole life keeping my foot fetish a secret and, even aside from that, could count the number of sexual experiences I had had in my entire life on my fingers, had now been offered a pair of mouth-watering Latina feet to do with as I pleased. I hadn't even processed the ramifications of this when I replied:

"Anything?"

An unmistakable tone of, almost, regret or remorse, which I am not ashamed to admit turned me on even further, followed: "Yes anything mister. I need the money and I am homeless in one week without your offer. Please give me one chance. I come right now to your house and if you not happy, I leave."

I agreed to this and true to her word, she was at my doorstep again within the hour. She had clearly rushed to get here as soon as possible; she was out of breath, sweaty and her heavy mascara had run slightly (or perhaps this was due to her having been crying). I didn't care either way and looked her up and down like a piece of meat. In this state, I found her even sexier, if that was possible, and invited her in, leering at her the entire time. She hesitantly slipped off her flip flops again and followed me into the living room where I guided her to a seat on the couch next to me. I made no effort to hide my clear lust for her feet and stared at them expectantly until she raised her legs up and placed her feet in my lap.

I instantly became erect and looked upon them as a hungry wolf would look upon his prey; a ravenous and ruthless glint in my eye. I would guess them at a size eight, with thick meaty soles and long toes that were perfectly shaped. She looked away as I brought her left foot up to my nose. I inhaled the sweet scent of her strawberry infused body lotion mixed with a pungent aroma of sweat that had made her feet a little sticky to touch. After a couple of deep breaths, I began my assault with my lips and tongue. My mouth violently slobbered all over her left foot in a barrage of passionate kissing and licking and I felt, and must have appeared to her, like a feral animal. I slowed my pace down after a few minutes and sensualised my approach; now taking each individual toe in turn into my mouth for long deep sucks and exploring the gaps between them with my probe of a tongue. This continued for another several minutes until Camila's left foot was a dripping mess.

During this process, I had cleaned away the powerful odour of the strawberry lotion-sweat mixture and so it was with delight that I brought her right foot up to my nose to experience a sharp blast of it again. At this point, I acutely remembered that this pair of feet that I was truly and thoroughly defiling belonged to a human being and I looked up at Camila to find her watching me intently with a look that could only be described as a cross between wonder and disgust. I did not allow this to distract me and my mouth commenced an assault on her right foot with possibly even more enthusiasm than it had the left. Every square inch of her soft, supple skin was covered by my tongue, including the deep crevices within her wrinkled soles.

Once I was satisfied that both feet had been comprehensively licked and kissed all over and every toe had undergone a thorough sucking, I leant back and started to unzip my pants.

"Espera! Wait, please, mister!"

I pretended not to hear and continued.

"Please! Mister! I said just my feet."

At this point I glanced at her;

"Yes, don't worry Camila, I am going to use your feet, as we agreed. Remember you said anything?"

I watched as it finally dawned on her what my intentions were and I saw that look of wonder and disgust etched on to her face again. She had begun to pull her feet back but when she realised that this was indeed within the remit of what she had agreed upon, let them go loose. By this point, I had released my raging erection from its denim prison and she was greeted by the sight of 5 inches of hairy, uncircumcised cock.

I grabbed her right foot (as this was the most lubricated at this point) and used it to stroke my manhood up and down; whilst placing her left foot back in my face and kissing and sucking her toes again. I told her to carry on as I had been doing and she responded with a look of bewilderment but impressed me with the dexterity of her toes as she brought me closer and closer to an intense orgasm. Eventually, I relented and, with her left foot placed firmly in my face, squishing my nose and mouth, I pointed my member at the top of her right foot and came all over her toes and the top of her foot. It had been a while since I had last masturbated and I released a tremendous load. After a moment of pure ecstasy in which I threw my head back, I looked back down to witness the incredible sight of my white, thick and creamy semen contrasting with the caramel brown of her feet and dripping off the beautiful, bright red of her toenails. When I had come back to my senses, I looked over to Camila who was eyeing her spoiled feet with repugnance. She caught my eye and asked;

"So, I have the job?"

"Yes, you have the job. Go and get yourself cleaned up. You can use the master bathroom since you'll be sleeping in my room anyway."

To be continued...