Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Freshly showered after my mid-morning gym session, I lay on the couch with a bowl of cereal, determined to catch up on all the TV shows I had missed during the past week. Setting the air conditioning at full blast, I gazed lazily through the window and could already feel the temperature outside rising. Summer had fully settled in Sydney and today promised to be a scorcher.
A sharp knock on the door awoke me from my dazed state and I shuffled towards the noise, jingling through my keys to open the lock. As the door opened, I was greeted with a familiar face. Standing at an average 5’6″ with her brown hair in a ponytail, Amanda, my next door neighbour, gave me a warm smile. Barely into her early to mid-thirties, her slim figure and sunny disposition belied the fact that she was a stay-at-home mother of one girl and two sets of twin boys.
‘Hi Vincent,’ she said, with a tinge of tiredness in her voice.
‘Hi Amanda, how’ve you been?’ I replied, glancing at the light flowery sundress that hugged her pleasing form. On her feet were a simple pair of black Havaianas flip-flops, and I could not help but notice the thin gold anklet that shimmered on her left ankle.
‘Fine thanks,’ she said, ‘I just left the kids at their grandparents’ and thought I’d drop by to discuss the strata plans, if you’re free that is.’ The unit block I lived in was undergoing front yard renovations and needed approval from the home owners before going ahead with construction.
‘Sure, I’ve nothing planned all day. Please come in!’
As she entered the cool environment within the house, she shivered slightly and let out a huge sigh of relief.
“Sorry,” she said wearily, “David is out of town for the week and it’s been a hectic couple of days. To top it off, the air conditioning in our house is spotty and won’t work properly on hot days like these.” David, her husband, worked as a sales executive and was often out of town on business.
I guided her through the hallway towards the lounge area. As she passed me by, the scent of her light perfume mixed with her faint womanly aroma was intoxicating. She had obviously spent an hour or two outside and her slightly tanned skin glistening under the light was a sight to behold.
Her swaying hips accentuated her tight bottom pressing against the sheer dress, revealing the outline of her panties. My gaze drew slowly downward towards her toned calves and ending at her beautiful size 7 feet. With every flop of her thong, those deep arches, creamy instep and soft looking soles flashed in all their glory. Her unpainted toes were flawlessly straight and dainty, gracefully balancing each step with the litheness of a seasoned dancer.
My eyes must have lingered for a couple of milliseconds too long as I looked back up to see her looking back at my face with a curious glint in her eye.
“Uh…here we are, have a seat anywhere.” I stammered, picking up my pace to arrive to the lounge area. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Any cold drink would be great, thanks.” I scampered towards the fridge to get a couple of cans of coke.
“Ohh,” she groaned in relief as she plopped down onto the plush couch, crossing her legs and dangling her flip flop from her raised foot. “It’s nice to finally be able to sit after running around all morning. My legs and feet are killing me!”
My ears immediately perked up. This beautiful woman, whose feet I had pined for ever since meeting her about a year ago when moving into my house, was sitting on my couch and presenting me with an opportunity too perfect to pass up. I placed the two icy glasses güvenilir bahis onto the coffee table, steeled myself and said:
“Here, let me help with that. Would you like me to rub your feet?” I extended a hand towards her feet without reaching, but positioned my body to indicate that I was indeed serious about the proposition.
Her face became slightly perplexed and confused.
“Oh…That’s kind of you to offer but it’s ok, thanks. It’s really not that bad and my feet are probably quite sweaty and dusty. You wouldn’t want to touch them.”
“Really,” I assured her, “it’s no trouble at all. I can do it while we discuss the plans.” “Plus,” I added, “I am experienced in reflexology and am really quite good at it. I might be a little rusty, but I can promise you that you’ll feel better in no time.” The truth is I had only taken an introductory reflexology course as an elective back when I was studying for my undergraduate studies, and the latter had not only taught me a few basics of massaging feet, but was finally paying off as the perfect clutch.
Sensing her lingering apprehension, I gazed at her knowingly and gave her a slight nod, with a smile that let her know that it wasn’t a burden to me at all, and inviting her to accept my offer.
After a couple of seconds, she finally slipped her shoes off her feet and began shifting her body so that her feet were pointing towards me. I handed her one of the half-dozen throw cushions and got her to sit with her back against one end of the couch. I scooted over towards her, placed a small cushion on my lap, and slowly took both her feet and gently placed them side by side.
This was it, the moment I had been fantasising about for so long. Up close, her feet were as wonderful as I had imagined: perfectly symmetrical with not a toe out of line and soles as smooth as silk. I caught a whiff of the sweet aroma emanating from them and silently congratulated myself for the strategically placed cushion over my lap; my bulge was quickly growing and pressing uncomfortably against my pants, with the cushion being the only thing saving me from potential embarrassment.
I began by slightly brushing my fingers over her soles, swiping away a couple of particles that had stuck to them. The pads, outer edges and heel of her soles were slightly dusty, which contrasted beautifully with her soft and creamy insteps, further accentuating her high arches. I grabbed her left heel in the palm of my hand, and as casually as I could, started gently rubbing her soles with my thumb in small circular motions.
Feeling my touch, Amanda’s body tensed slightly, still aware of the awkwardness of the situation. Once the gentle kneading started, though, she gave in and let out a barely audible purr, her body sinking slightly deeper into the couch and her face showing subtle relief.
“So, let’s get to it then.” I said as I carefully tugged on each one of her toes.
It turned out to be a rather straightforward matter and twenty minutes later, we had both looked over the blueprints and had agreed on the plans. Within that time, I had switched to her right foot and was palming her feet while flexing her ankles. The initial tension was completely gone and Amanda was visibly enjoying every stroke, albeit not as much as I secretly was. My cock was at full throb and I could feel the endless stream of pre-cum dripping and pooling within my boxers.
A couple of minutes later, Amanda pulled back her feet and gingerly started sitting back up.
“Thanks,” she said softly. “You really do have a great touch. This was honestly great.”
At türkçe bahis the realisation that the moment was literally slipping out of my hands, my heart sank. A measly twenty minutes of pure ecstasy was nowhere near enough. I needed to do something. Quickly.
“You know, you mentioned that the air conditioning in your house was down. It’s probably boiling outside. If you want, you could hang around a bit longer and have a couple more drinks.” I asked tentatively. “Also, there are a few massage techniques that I’ve been wanting to practise and your feet are already warmed up.”
Amanda looked outside. The sun was blazing and the heat was already radiating through the blinds. It was an easy decision.
“Well,” she pondered, “I still have a couple of hours before I need to pick up the kids and I would be stewing in my house alone till then. That foot rub also sounds really appealing… Sure, I’ll stay for a bit then, only if you really don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” I said, grinning from ear to ear.
I quickly got up and fixed us a couple of ice-filled drinks and immediately got to work. This time, I had her lay flat on her back, taking the whole length of the couch. I resumed my position at her feet and firmly grabbed her ankle. Using my knuckle, I dug deeply into her left sole, just below the ball of her foot.
Surprised by the pressure, Amanda jumped up and let out a small squeal of pain, retracting her feet.
“Sorry,” I said, “I should have mentioned that this technique requires a bit more pressure. Would you like me to go more gently?”
“No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting it.” She eased back and put her feet up again.
As I resumed the massage, she winced but this time didn’t budge. A minute later, I looked back up to check up on her. She had grabbed one of the throw cushions and was clutching it tightly, squeezing it harder as I pushed into certain pressure points. Her face was contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure, alternating between a grimace and pure release.
“How is it?” I enquired.
“It hurts…but you’re hitting just the right spots. Please…don’t stop.” She replied, her breath choppy.
I happily complied. For the next half-hour, I made sure that every square millimetre of her foot was taken care of, from the top of each cute toe to the bottom of her heel. Amanda had closed her eyes and seemed to be feeling every knead, sporadically letting out soft moans. She had grabbed another cushion and placed it firmly on her crotch, her whole body writhing against it as her breathing got gradually heavier. It definitely seemed that her enjoyment had reached a new peak. I revelled in her enjoyment and focused my effort on finding the exact areas on her feet that caused the greatest reaction and tugged and kneaded as hard as I could, milking every ounce of pleasure out of her.
Another thirty minutes went by and I was exhausted. My efforts had paid off though. Her soft moans had evolved into stifled screams of pleasure and her legs had tightened against the now flattened cushion, desperately balancing pain and the impending orgasm. At last, her body tightened, her breath cut short, she arched her back and convulsed into a glorious, shivering, full-body orgasm.
As she climaxed, the tightness in my pants became too much to bear. I grabbed her left foot and shoved all five of her toes deeply into my mouth, letting my tongue run in between the gaps of her dainty toes, sucking and tasting the salty and sweaty goodness of her foot. With my free hand, I grasped the other foot and firmly set it over my crotch. At the güvenilir bahis siteleri mere touch of her precious feet onto my cock, even through the layer of clothes I was still wearing, I exploded and creamed the biggest load that literally soaked my pants.
I crumpled in exhaustion. My fingers were numb, my forearms burned deeply, but the satisfaction I felt at that moment was godly. As we both came back to, we looked into each other’s eyes and burst out into laughter. Our inhibitions had vanished in thin air as we had just enjoyed a moment so intense that neither of us could have even imagined being capable of.
“I must say,” She caught her breath, “I had noticed you looking at my feet a few times before but had no idea how good you are. You really are a magician!” she flattered.
“Well, your gorgeous feet deserve only the best!” I returned, “I was pleasantly surprised by the way you react to the pain. I’ve never seen anyone respond to it that way.”
‘Yeah, I kind of surprised myself too. Guess I discovered something new today.” She said sheepishly and smiled.
“Guess we both did…” I grinned back.
We downed the rest of our drinks and I asked her to flip over on her stomach while I refilled our glasses. Dead hands or not, I was determined to make this dream last as long as I could. I once again diligently resumed my position at her feet and lightly ran the back of my fingers across her soles. She let out a small giggle. Her soles had turned a hot shade of pink from the intensity of the massage and had become warm to the touch. The friction and heat had also made them sweaty and slippery, the aroma of her womanly scent mixed with her foot odour now present throughout the whole room.
I took a sip of my drink and let a couple of droplets of condensation from the glass drip onto her soles. Sensing the sudden cold, Amanda breathed in sharply and looked back, only to meet my eyes as I gave her a reassuring nod. She slouched back into a daze.
“Hmmm…that feels lovely.” she purred, as my cold fingers spread the droplets between her toes.
I spent the next hour or so fondling Amanda’s feet as thoroughly as I could. Alternating between light tickles on her soles, caressing her silky insteps and running my fingers between her dainty toes, every touch brought out a giggle or squirm, as she twitched, pointed and flexed her feet. I was intent on capturing and memorising every minute detail of this once-in-a-lifetime experience.
It all ended as abruptly as it had started. A text from her mother to pick up her children and it was all over. As she sat up, I bent over and grabbed her flip flops.
“Allow me,” I kneeled down and reached for her feet one last time. Amanda smiled and ceremoniously extended both feet right in front of my face. I pushed my face into her soles, caught one last whiff, and planted a kiss on each heel before delicately putting each shoe back on.
As we reached the front door, she turned and hugged me in a tight embrace. I felt her soft breasts against my chest and my hardness pressed against the damp spot where her juices had seeped through her sheer dress.
“Thank you for the wonderful time,” she whispered in my ear.
“Believe me, the pleasure was all mine. Please drop by anytime, there are still a few techniques I’d like to try out, especially now with the newly discovered information.” I said cheekily.
“I will, definitely.” She promised.
A fleeting kiss on the cheek and she was gone. I shuffled back towards the lounge tried to let everything sink in. What had just happened? Had this even happened?
My hand wandered and found the battered cushion, stained with a large wet patch. Bringing it to my face, I inhaled deeply and cracked a huge smile.
Yeah. It had happened alright. Better yet, this was just the beginning.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32