Just three days ago, I’d happened to bump into Tanya, en ex-teacher of mine, and one thing led to another, culminating in me worshipping her feet and enjoying a steamy sex session back at her place.
At the time, I thought that it would be a thrilling one-off experience and although we’d exchanged phone numbers as I left her house, I thought nothing more of it but I felt a shiver of excitement when I got out of the shower at my budget hotel room early next week to see she’d texted me.
She wanted to know how long I was in town for. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” I replied. Did she want another round of foot fun? I would definitely be up for that. She really seemed to have enjoyed herself when we’d met the other night so perhaps she’s up for it too, I mused.
My phone went quiet as I dried myself and got dressed. It’s a weekday, I thought to myself. She’ll be at work, likely busy with meetings and classes. I had work to do too, but I couldn’t concentrate. I found my attention wandering; every few minutes or so I would find myself drifting off imagining her beautiful feet in my face, in my mouth, rubbing my erect cock.
I wondered all sorts of things: What colour nail polish is she wearing today? Which shoes has she got on? Is she still thinking about me?
Ping. Another text. I scrambled to grab my phone, which I’d left on the unmade bed behind me. “Where are you staying?” she’d asked.
I replied with details of the hotel. It was only a couple of miles from her school but a little further from where she lived.
“Lunchtime meeting?” she posted, with a winking emoji.
Yes, please, I thought, smiling broadly. “You bet,” I typed. I guessed if she was coming in her lunch break, she would want to get on with it so I gave her my room number, advising that the reception was rarely manned so she should be able to pop up without causing any undue suspicion or embarrassment.
“I’ll be there around 12.15.”
The rest of the morning dragged. Really dragged. My hands shook a little as I tried to type, my work-rate slowed to a crawl by constant thoughts about what fun I would be having later with my former teacher’s feet.
Five years ago she would have been standing at the front of the class discussing the finer points of some classic work of literature. I would be sat somewhere near the front, casting glances at her feet whenever I could, secretly fantasising about them.
Now, here I was, indulging that fantasy; not once, but twice in the space of a few days.
After what felt like hours, the time had arrived. I’d showered again, made the bed and sure enough, just after 12.15, there was a soft knock on the door.
I opened it and she strode in. She’d clearly come straight from school, wearing a smart grey two-piece suit and black stiletto heels.
“I’d offer you a drink, but there’s no minibar here,” I joked.
She smiled, kicking off her heels and laying back on the bed. The answer to one of my questions earlier was pink. Bright pink nail polish adorned her toes. It suited her, I thought.
Lifting her feet up, she wiggled them suggestively, and asked me, “Want some more?”
Another enormous smile ripped across my face. I didn’t need to say anything. She knew full well I wanted more. And seemingly, so did she.
“You know, you really awakened something in me the other day. I’ve always made my feet look good, but I never realised they could make people feel good too!”
I was sitting on the bed, gently stroking her feet, gazing adoringly at them. I picked up one of them and stuck one of her big toes in my mouth. I gently sucked, using my tongue to make sure every inch of it got some attention.
I could see she was enjoying this. I could imagine no better stress relief after a hard morning than having one’s toes sucked.
“Look,” she began, her words coming slowly as she gasped while I carried on sucking her toes. “Do you mind if I help things along a bit? This does need to be a quickie.”
Neither breaking eye contact nor stopping sucking, I nodded.
“Thanks,” she replied. As she leant to her handbag, she continued, “I don’t know why, but the older I get, the hornier I get.” She pulled out a long white dildo and as if I weren’t even there, eased it towards her pussy. She let out a long moan as she slipped it inside her.
I heard a click as she turned it on and could feel its vibration via her feet in my mouth. I didn’t mind. Quite the opposite in fact; I loved how brazen and kinky she was being and how clearly comfortable she was with me.
I paused for a second. “Does that feel good, Tanya?” I ventured.
“Oh, yeah,” she said. “Love it when you suck my toes.”
“I could suck them all day. Does it really turn you on?”
She sighed. “You know, it’s really nice, but on its own, I don’t know. I love the idea that you want to worship my feet – that’s a turn-on, for sure…”
“Hence why you need the vibrator,” I interrupted. “It’s okay, I understand.”
“That’s good,” she said, clearly relieved.
“I love it. You know what you want and how to get it.” We both laughed before settling back into our rhythm. She thrusted her dildo into and out of her pussy with increasingly quick movements while rubbing her clit at the same time. I sucked her toes and massaged her soles, snatching a rub of my own hard cock when I could.
This was, I reckoned, close to my own version of sexual nirvana and we carried on for some time. I loved the taste of her feet as well as the feeling that my mouth, my tongue, and my fingers were making her feel good too. And she was having the time of her life.
I could sense from the way her body was writhing around more and more that she was about to bring herself to orgasm. As her elegantly manicured fingers flicked her clitoris and she held the dildo inside her as it vibrated, I jammed my tongue between two of her toes.
“Yes!” she screamed. “That’s the spot! That’s the spot!”
I’d struck gold. I worked my tongue quicker and quicker in between her toes until the unmistakable climax came. There was no holding back and as she came to a loud scream, the force of her body’s response threw her feet out of my mouth, leaving me grasping thin air with one hand and my dick with the other.
She sighed a deeply contented, completely satisfied sigh. “You know, maybe I was wrong. When you lick between my toes like that…yeah, that’s a turn-on!”
I smiled again. I thought that would drive her wild. It drove me wild too, having her thrashing around and orgasming with her foot in my mouth.
“Have you got time to finish me off?” I asked.
“Of course,” she said. “What do you want me to do?”
I knew exactly what I wanted her to do, and I didn’t think it would be very difficult. I asked her to smother my face with her feet and wank me off. “Shouldn’t take too long,” I told her.
She pressed her feet against my cheeks, allowing me to feel her soft soles against my face. “Like that?” she asked, her face close enough to mine to be able to feel her warm breath thanks to the size of the single hotel bed.
“That works,” I said, closing my eyes, allowing myself to get lost in the moment as I felt the soft touch of her graceful hands firmly grip my erection.
She carefully stroked my cock, building up speed while I manoeuvred her feet, so her soles and toes were covering my nose. The smell of her feet continued to drive me wild and the quicker she stroked my cock, the closer I was to orgasm.
“Like that?” she asked again, this time nodding her head towards my dick.
“Yes,” I gasped, knowing I was close to exploding. “Keep wanking really hard,” I told her. “Oh God! That’s so good,” I cried, my voice tailing off as I breathed harder and harder.
She laughed. “Now who knows what they want and how to get it?” If my face wasn’t buried under her sumptuous feet I’d have told her how much I love it when women engage in my fetish. I loved how she genuinely seemed to care about me having a good time as much as she was concerned with her own fun. I loved how at ease we both felt pleasuring each other.
I’d seen how quickly she had been thrusting her dildo earlier and now she was bringing me off with equally fast hand action. If I could bottle this feeling up and sell it I’d be a rich man, I thought, as my body started convulsing – much as hers had earlier.
She knew exactly what was going on and whether voluntarily or not, as she wanked me harder and harder to the point where I couldn’t hold back any longer, she was pressing her feet even more firmly into my face.
As she wiggled her toes, I took one last deep breath with my nose and that did it. My scream of pleasure as my cock could hold on no more was muffled by her soles as cum spurted onto her hands and my legs – but her reaction was not.
“Oh! Yes! So much cum!” she shrieked, giggling as she slowed her stroking of my dick and moved her feet away from my face. I hoped she hadn’t got any on her clothes – that might be a tricky one to explain upon her return to work.
She didn’t seem to be bothered, or if she was, didn’t let on. As I lay naked on the bed, completely spent, she calmly got up, collected her things, and put her shoes back on.
Looking at her watch, she told me she’d best be getting back. “That was the best lunchtime I’ve had in a very long while,” she said.
I grinned. I bet it was.
“Where are you living now?” she asked as she opened the door to leave.
“Norwich,” I told her, as I shuffled into a seated position, reaching for a tissue. “Cheap living costs.”
She nodded. As she turned and headed out into the corridor, she left me with one more tantalising tease.
“Maybe I’ll come visit one day.”