tagLesbian SexRomance was Afoot

Romance was Afoot


I was so happy when I landed my new job. It was a bit more money and a really nice office filled with quiet cubicles. Although the workplace was nice as far as the furnishings and such, it turned out to be a little strange once I settled in to my work.

Although we had a couple dozen people - all like me, cube-dwellers in the mid-twenties age group - no one seemed to fraternize with each other. My previous office jobs had been enhanced by camaraderie and the usual friendliness of people all stuck together for at least the eight hours a day, five days a week work life. Not this place. Conversation was at a minimum and except for some smiles and head nods in the hallways, we hardly said boo to each other. It wasn't the management's rule or anything - people just kept to themselves. Oh, well. I did my job like everyone else and kept to myself, also.

One afternoon in my second week, I received a curt email from one of my coworkers about something I had sent through for processing. I hardly knew the sender but I wanted to resolve whatever had caused the problem. I got up and found the sender's name on her cubicle wall.

"Hi, Irina. I'm Jennifer." I said brightly as I leaned against the cubicle post.

Irina jumped a little at the sound of my voice and I realized it did seem out of place to speak aloud in such a silent workspace. Irina turned her head to me from where she had been typing furiously on her keyboard. She said nothing but continued to look a bit startled at my interruption. I regained my composure and began to ask about the problem with my transmission.

Irina nodded with what seemed like impatience. "Yes, it's all taken care of." She resumed typing and I felt that I was dismissed.

An odd encounter with a strange co-worker. I replayed the work error and my interaction with Irina over in my head for days afterward. In a strange way, I had been hoping that my work error might be a way to make a personal contact with one of my coworkers. Instead, it had merely confirmed the oddness of my new office. Perhaps because she was the only person with whom I had any interaction, I found myself thinking about Irina even in my off-hours. I was intrigued by her.


How to describe Irina? She had this maddening personality trait of seeming always to be annoyed while interacting with another human being. But after a few (admittedly brief) interactions with her myself, I began to believe this was not so much annoyance as being unskilled at communicating with others. I chalked it up to being foreign born - Russian, I think - and her halting accent which belied a difficulty of finding the right words sometime. Physically, Irina was attractive when I studied her more closely. One needed to study her closely to see her beauty because she did nothing to enhance her appearance. She had deep brown hair but the cut was all wrong for her face, in my opinion. She used little or no cosmetics that I could detect. Her work outfits were professional and conservative but appeared outdated and a bit severe for a modern young woman. However, I noticed also that those clothes camouflaged a fit body and a particularly well-shaped pair of legs. I don't mean to say that she was a Miss Universe hiding in plain sight but I began to think of her as a thoroughbred that needed a chance to get her legs and run confident and free. I surprised myself by realizing I liked her.


Thus began a day-by-day, week-by-week campaign to befriend Irina. It was not easy. I always verbalized a "hello" with what I hoped to be a warm smile when we crossed in the cube pathways. I invented work reasons to talk to her about business during the days, always using friendly smiles and conversational gambits. My attempts were met with polite smiles or what most would consider slightly rude put-offs. But compared to my also silent neighbors - in whom I had no interest at all - I believed I was making inroads to my mysterious Russian-born office mate. I guess it was about three weeks in when I decided to try a more direct approach to what I perceived her grudging acceptance of our workspace friendship.

At 3PM one afternoon, I sauntered over to Irina's cube. I knocked against the cube post. Irina took a moment, and then turned to face me where I stood in her cube opening when I spoke. "Hi. I'm going shoe shopping after work. Would you like to come with? Try on some shoes; maybe get a drink or something to eat after?" I asked in my best friendly voice.

Irina looked at me blankly, turned her eyes to the side at empty space, and remained silent. Finally, she nodded almost imperceptibly and said, "Yes. I will come."

"Great. Around 5:15, then?" I asked. We all of us in the office worked a little beyond the 5PM end of day to seem like we weren't clock-watchers to management.

Irina nodded intently and turned her head back to her computer screen.

I practically skipped back to my cube. I couldn't wait for the two hours and fifteen minutes to pass as I finished my day's work. What in the world would this "girls night out" be like with the enigmatic Irina, I wondered? I spent my idle mental moments trying to think of conversation with her even though my head was full of questions about her. I didn't want to seem overly interested in her - although, quite frankly - I was interested to the max. Finally, 5:15 rolled around and I went to collect my mysterious "date."

Silent as ever, Irina and I rode down the elevator with nary a word between us. I pointed her up the street towards the big discount shoe place a block away from our building. "Tootsies" was one of those large, serve-yourself discount shoe stores. I stopped quickly near the entrance and admired a high heeled sandal. When I held it up for Irina to see, she shook her head as though she wouldn't be caught dead in them. We walked back to the section for size 7's which, it nicely turned out, was both of our sizes.

Irina busied herself examining low heeled work pumps while I examined everything. I was surprised when she pulled a box off the shelf and sat to try on a pair of sensible pumps in navy. I picked down a high heeled sandal similar to what I had seen upon entering and sat next to Irina on the low bench. "We can try each other's." I said.

Irina again shook her head at my selection. "Too much exposed." she said quietly while she unwrapped her pair from their box.

I thought that perhaps my workmate had ugly toes accounting for her reluctance towards sandals. But when she slipped off her work shoes to try on the new pair, I was surprised to see that her toes under her pantyhose (she was the only woman I knew who still regularly wore pantyhose) were quite pretty and carefully pedicured. I studied Irina as she took some small steps in the new shoes. With her well-shaped calves, the gentle sheen of her pantyhose, and a shiny new pair of pumps, I began to appreciate Irina's understated (very understated, to say the least) sexiness.

I strapped on the high heeled sandals I had chosen and put my legs out for Irina to see.

"Very pretty." She said simply.

I guess now would be a good time to tell you that I have a foot fetish. I can't recall when it kicked in but I remember that when I started to have an attraction to other girls (when I was younger myself) or women (now...and forever), my crushes had to have cute toes and clean, soft soles for me to develop any erotic feelings. My own feet are pretty (IMHO) and despite my sporadic affairs with women, I've never been able to indulge my foot fetish in sexplay to any large degree. So when I saw Irina's cute piggies and despite her less than enthusiastic friendship, for some reason I was optimistic about bringing her around.

I tried to entice her to try a pair of peep-toe pumps, even joshing her that they were not "too much exposed." She demurred politely but admired the same pair when I tried them on. Irina kept trying on pumps and flats and each time she took one pair off, I zeroed in on her unshod stockinged feet. Between my growing hope for friendship (and perhaps more than just friendship), and watching her pretty feet slipping into and out of new shoes, I was getting a little turned on.

I had picked a couple pair of high heeled sandals to purchase and Irina - ever sensible - had a box of low heeled pumps in her hand. "Let's check out and maybe get a glass of wine." I said brightly, encouraged that my workmate seemed more personable out of the office even if she was still pretty quiet.

Irina seemed to think about my suggestion, then nodded assent. We made our purchases and returned to the busy avenue. I suggested a couple of restaurant bars nearby but Irina did not seem enthused. That didn't surprise me and then I had an idea.

"You know, my apartment building is only a few blocks from here. I have wine and some nibbles. Would you rather just go back to my place?"

As was her standard practice, Irina thought briefly then nodded and said "Yes."

Something had told me that Irina, borderline antisocial Irina, might prefer the private confines of my apartment rather than the noise and bustle of a happy hour bar. We walked the city streets the short distance to my building mostly in silence but every so often I could get her to acknowledge something I said or pointed out. We rode the elevator to my floor and my small one-bedroom apartment.

I opened a bottle of white wine and made a quick spread of mini carrots and ranch dressing, pita chips and some cheese I had in the refrigerator. It wasn't much but Irina dipped a carrot in the dressing and sipped her wine. "Thank you." She said as she looked around.

I carried the tray to the coffee table and bade my quiet guest to sit on the couch. We plopped down in the soft cushions together. I was able to engage Irina in some conversation and to my surprise she answered freely, if not in great detail. She even asked some questions of me, and surprised me when she laughed at one point. "Holy cow." I thought to myself. "She is actually starting to seem normal."

Things were going so well, I opened a second bottle of wine after we had finished the first and cleared the picked over food tray from the coffee table. I poured us fresh glasses of the gentle golden wine and sat back in the sofa cushions. I placed my unshod feet up on the edge of the table before us. Irina sighed and did the same. I admired once again her pretty feet as we sat back. I playfully nudged her stockinged foot with my own. She pushed back with a giggle.

"You know," I started to say, realizing I was just a little buzzed from the wine, "You have pretty feet and you should try some sexy shoes to show them off."

"No, I'm not comfortable with that." Irina answered in her simple manner, back to seriousness.

"I hope it's not because you are self-conscious, Irina. Because you're really quite beautiful." I said. I looked over at her after I said this to read her reaction. I wanted to see if she would reject my statement out of hand which would indicate she suffered from low self-esteem.

Irina just looked back at me with her blank face to which I had become accustomed. It seemed like she was about to say something but nothing came out. We were looking at each other side by side and when Irina swallowed her thought without speaking it left us staring silently into each other's eyes for longer than seemed normal. Irina may not have been showing anything with her facial expression or verbalizing any thought but her eyes were silently saying something as they pierced into my own hazel orbs. She leaned over and oh, so gently, kissed me.

"Is alright?" Irina asked with her soft accented voice after we parted.

"Yes." I answered simply.

We shared some soft kisses then. We embraced after a short while of cautious kissing. When our arms were on each other and our lips had parted to explore each other's mouths, the passion increased. We fell into an awkward horizontal tussle on the sofa as we made out. When we started to tug at each other's clothing to get our hands on breasts and under skirts to touch intimately, I breathlessly got us to our feet and led us to my bedroom.

Yes, we made love and it was beautiful and the unexpectedness made it even more beautiful. But that was only the beginning of our story so I'll leave that episode without further mention.


What began after that evening was everything I had hoped for when I began my career in the city and took the new job that led me to Irina. We became a pair although we maintained our separate apartments. We jointly decided that we would not let on to anyone at work about our friendship - much less our status as lovers. We delighted in our secret in the office and we pleased each other sexually and emotionally outside the office. There were evenings upon leaving the office when we practically ran to my apartment or her apartment so we could make love as soon as we could close the door behind us. It was difficult to remember how Irina seemed so cold and distant when I first tried being her friend. Two weeks ago, she ripped my blouse apart as soon as she kicked her apartment door closed behind me and pushed me to the floor of her living room where we made love in the semi-dark evening light.

Beneath her implacable public demeanor, Irina had a playful sense of humor that she allowed me to see, if no one else. One morning, I went to her cubicle and when she turned in her swivel chair to face me, I was surprised to see that she was wearing a pair of brand new peep toe pumps. She gave me a secret smile and crossed her legs in mock seductiveness. I said nothing and simply retreated to my cube where I fantasized about our inevitable after work lovemaking. I had introduced my foot fetishism into our sexplay and despite her initial discomfort, Irina allowed me to indulge my fetish with her impeccable feet. The peep toe pumps were a small demonstration to me that she had accepted my unusual desire.

That evening, we walked together after work to Irina's apartment. It was strange to see her wearing a fashionable pair of heels and I couldn't take my eyes from the barely peeking edges of her exposed toes as she walked the city streets. At a street corner, we waited for the light to turn green and we both gripped each other's arms as if holding back from running into traffic. It was the kind of thing we did to let us touch in public without drawing attention to ourselves. I can't speak for how Irina felt during that evening walk but I was bursting at the seams with desire. I kept trying to give her meaningful looks as we quick-stepped along but it was Irina's idea of fun to torture me by seeming to ignore my extra-sensory messaging.

When we finally got behind closed doors, I squealed with delight and dropped to my knees where I bent to kiss my lover's open-toed shoes. I licked the two exposed toes on each foot. I ran my tongue up her instep and circled back down along that tender area on the inside edge of her feet. She playfully resisted me taking the shoes off.

"Is good surprise, hey?" She giggled above me.

"Fuck, yes." I garbled into her toe cleavage where the tight leather creased her soft skin.

Eventually, I got Irina's new shoes off her pretty feet and after covering them with sloppy kisses, we stumbled into her bedroom, me on all fours trying to stay as close as possible to the objects of my lust. We made overheated, sweaty love after our half-mile walk, without even freshening up before stripping naked. Irina was usually so buttoned up and aloof that I actually enjoyed her when she was, well, a little musky, a bit dirty.


I know I seem to be glossing over the intimate details of my lovemaking with Irina. And I will get into details a little later. But I want to give you a fuller portrait of our affair of the heart and mind. I guess we had been seeing each other for a couple of months when I talked my reclusive lover into a night at the movies and drinks in a small bar afterwards.

It seemed that I did most of the talking when we were out in public together although I was not a naturally garrulous type myself. We were having a pretty good night on the town, for us, anyway. The movie was okay (we shared a tub of popcorn and a soft drink with one straw like sweethearts), we walked on the darkened city streets to a dimly lit restaurant bar and perched on high stools sipping wine (and sharing meaningful looks over the glass rims). Irina was talkative and I enjoyed both listening and watching her as she spoke in her accented English. When she made a small joke and hiccupped a laugh into her wine glass, I realized she was a little buzzed and I felt a small knot in my throat as I realized how much I cared for her.

We settled our check and when we stepped outside, it was wet from a brief rainstorm that broke while we were having our drinks. We were making our way back to my apartment and we dared to hold hands as we walked on the darker streets away from traffic. As we passed through the corner of a small city park, we were confronted with a huge puddle in the walkway. I impulsively kicked my shoes off and over the swath of water. I splashed across the puddle in my bare feet. Irina looked behind us to make sure we weren't being watched and did the same. She had a look of girlish delight I had never seen before. We hopped and ran back and forth through the puddle several times, splashing and laughing at our silliness. We stopped to catch our breath in the middle of the puddle. We embraced in the shadow of the tree lined park - alone, yet surrounded by millions, barefoot in chilly rainwater. We kissed like lovers. Irina played her bare foot over mine as we kissed. Our wet tongues were joined above and our wet, soft feet were touching below. I was in heaven. I think Irina was also.


That tipsy, puddle-soaked kiss was something of a turning point for us. Even though we had been sexual lovers since our first "date," ours was more of a friendship than a true relationship. What I had felt and what I suspected that Irina had also felt that night in the wet park could not be contained. Oh yes, we hurried home that night and made passionate love (glossing over the details again, I know) but in the days that followed, I think we both realized how deeply we had fallen.

The following months of summer and into the fall found us mostly inseparable although we maintained our separate apartments. We alternated bouts of charged sexual romps with slow rolling nights of romance. Irina at first indulged my foot fetish and eventually she took to it herself. I would caress, kiss, lick and nibble on my lover's pretty feet and toes as foreplay that would make me aroused just short of orgasm. Irina brought her earnest intensity to her attentions to my feet. The first time she sucked my toes I could feel myself juicing and dripping and rubbed one out while she still had her mouth full of my middle tootsies.

Irina told me she was going to fly to Russia to visit her parents outside Moscow over our Thanksgiving holiday week. I decided to use the same week to drive the 200 miles back upstate to visit my folks. I returned to the city on Sunday early evening. Irina texted me from her airport cab back into the city.

"Come over at 8." The words said simply. So like her to skip pleasantries.

I arrived promptly, joyed at seeing Irina after our longest time apart for months. Irina kissed me as I came in and we walked back to her single bedroom. Her filled suitcase was still sitting by her bureau. We sat on the edge of her bed, seeming oddly out of practice being together after our separation. Irina brought a small wrapped box out from a gift bag on the bed behind her.

"Oh, Irina, you shouldn't have." I said, truly feeling sad that I had nothing to give to her. "I didn't get you anything. I'm such a dummy." I whined at myself.

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bygrayshade© 2 comments/ 15770 views/ 21 favorites

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