[Note: This is a fictional story submitted by a Foot Lover]
"The Therapist" by CJ
A grateful client who knew about my issues recommended her to me. She saw me wince at each movement; getting out the car, reaching to get my whiskey out of the cabinet, giving her good for nothing stalker ex-boyfriend a deserving boot in the ribs.
My name is Ray. I’m the guy people call when they think the spouse is running around on them, when they think the business partner is doctoring the books, or when some guys just can’t take no for an answer. Lisa; my client gave me this chick’s number, said she specialized in therapeutic massage and could adjust a back as good as a chiropractor. Lisa said she also did energy work and inner healing, whatever the hell that was. We did everything by text, Sara; that was her name, said she wanted a cold meet, said that she knew enough about me from Lisa to know that I’m cool, that she could relax around me, but not enough to have too many pre-conceived notions about me. She said if Lisa said I was good, it was all she needed to know.
The rendezvous was at her place and scheduled for midnight. A cold front put a chill in the air and that along with the cool, steady mist put an ache in my joints that aggravated my arthritis as I went up the stairs to her apartment complex. I enter a door which takes me to a darken hallway with apartments on each side. It immediately feels like a set up. I’ve been down paths like this before and I’ve always had “Angel” by my side, a .40 caliber Glock I won in a poker game in the backroom of a Mexican whorehouse in Nuevo Laredo, Mexico ten years ago. The gun proved its worth when its former owner protested the win when he caught me taking a leak in a gutter a couple of hours later. I left him and his amigo laying there as I tore ass back across the border and into Texas, but now was different, she rested under the seat of the truck while I was here. I look at the number on the door, #2418 and realize I am here. Per her instruction, I text and not knock to announce my arrival and a moment later the door opens as if by magic revealing a room illuminated by candlelight. I enter the room and turn only when I hear the door close behind me. I discretely place a white envelope on the counter.
“Hello, Ray: I’m Sara,” a poised voice of moderate tone and soothing gait greeted. I shake the extended hand and take in the woman before me. She was tall, around 5’8 and 150. Her shoulder length hair was curly and dirty blonde; her skin was the color of honey mixed with cream and just as smooth. Her eyes were dark brown pools that sparkled with life and depth and her mouth was broad and curved into a warm, friendly smile. My eyes fell upon the rest of her body, sheathed in a very thin knee length beige silk sheath that blended into her skin tone. Between her upper arm and elbow tattooed into her flesh was a colorful mosaic of Far Eastern origins, most prominent of the artwork was an orange koi fish, the symbol of yin and yang, a red Kabuki mask, a winding multi-colored Asian dragon and a tsunami wave of turquoise and white. The way she stood and gazed at me told me all I needed to know about her. She was a woman, and I don’t use that term to mean female. I use that phrase to describe the exquisite blend, of emotional, intellectual, spiritual and physical maturation that comes together to form the ultimate in feminine perfection. I never understood the guys that went for the teen queens with the high and tight bodies. A woman like this had so much more to offer. I was impressed to say the least, and then my gaze fell below her knees and my breath left as quickly had someone kicked me in the gut.
Her feet: my god, I guessed she wore a size nine or ten, with long toes and deep nail beds painted a dark red. Her nails were slightly longer than average and perfectly pedicured. I swallowed hard as I saw delicate gold rings on the second and third toe on her left foot and a subtle gold chain around her left ankle. I saw her right foot held no jewelry.
I have a foot fetish. I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it. I couldn’t get rid of it if I tried, which I had in my younger days. I’m more at ease with it now as a middle-aged man than I was as a kid. I realize that it’s how I’m bent. However, it wasn’t information I was willing just to surrender. It was still a weakness, a big weakness. A pair of pretty feet had the same effect on me as ass and tits did to other guys, except unlike most guys, it turned me to water. It did to me what Kryptonite did to Superman.
My gaze drifts back up to the eyes that are studying me as curiously as I’m studying her. A slight knowing smile embarrasses me for I know she knows my secret. Although my attention fell upon my weakness for only a second, she saw it, she read me like a book.
“Very nice to meet you, Sara,” I said while covering my shame.
“Please, sit,” she offered to me while showing me her sofa. She sits next to me, her body turned to face me. “Lisa told me about you,” she began. “Told me what you did to help her, I appreciate that,” she said. I shrugged.
“She’s a good kid,” I told her. She nods and looks at me, examines me silently. She leans back and crosses her legs, and I sneak a glimpse of her barefoot while she does it.
“So, what are you looking for, Ray?” I look at her face in the flickering candlelight and saw this wasn’t a whimsical, shallow probe but more of a profound inquiry that reached beyond the flesh. I, however give the answer to the question that leads me here to begin with.
“I hear you give a good, therapeutic, deep tissue massage. My knees, back, and shoulders are shot and I was hoping you could help with that.” She nods and I watch her move as she adjust herself next to me. I was really digging her vibe, which was a sophisticated hippy chick/gypsy feel.
“I do the therapeutic work you describe,” she explained, “but all theses ailments tend to come from deeper within. I can treat that also.” She waves her hand to a pallet on the floor near a wall. “Please, disrobe completely and lay on your back. I would like to do an assessment of where you are physically and spiritually.” I do what she says and I’m soon nude on the floor. I watch her glide back and forth for a moment, my eyes fixed upon her feet. Each step of her foot was a fluid, heel to toe rolling motion that stirred my loins uncontrollably. I’d been looking for these feet for thirty years. They were the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, so perfect in every way. She gracefully kneels besides me, braced on her arches, toes splayed under her, her full butt on her heels. I can’t resist it, hope she doesn’t look down upon me for it, but it’s something I have to do. I reach out with my right hand and caress the exposed sole of her foot. It was soft and smooth yet firm, the skin pulled tight from her position. I examine her face for any sign of negative reaction and to my relief she gives me a comforting smile.
“How long have you had a foot fetish, Ray,” she asked knowingly.
“All my life,” I said with a hard swallow. “You don’t think it’s weird?” She shakes her head.
“Not at all,” she said with an acceptance uncommon to me. “I feel the love and affection in your touch. Gentle, firm and soothing,” she said looking at my erection. I hear the rain increasing outside and start when a flash of lightning illuminates the room. An amused smile spreads across her face at my reaction. She takes a deep breath closes her eyes and lightly runs her hands over my body. She starts with my face and her gentle caress makes my heart sing. I study her expression as her hands go down my chest, touch my belly and down my legs. A pained expression creased her otherwise serene features a few times, as she conducted her examination. Lisa told me more than a few times that Sara wasn’t a sexual hook-up, just a heeler so that wasn’t an idea even on my mind. I am a man however and press certain buttons and you will get certain reactions. When Sara’s hand reached my erection, she showed no shyness or awkwardness. Her eyes still closed, she cupped my balls and gripped my cock. The sensation causes an involuntary thrust of my hips and she greets me with her pained expression again. Her hands drift back to my stomach.
“You are structured and orderly,” she said softly, eyes closed and hands on my abdomen. “Everything has a time and a place with you. You are a hard man, afraid of very little, but you’re empty inside.” Her face frowns again as she continues her accurate assessment of me. “Your energy is chaotic, much turmoil is within you.” She opens up her eyes and looks at me.
“Well,” I asked somewhat caught off guard at her precise description.
“When was the last time you were touched?”
“Touched?”
“Yes, when was the last time an affectionate hand were laid on your body?”
“Years,” I admit to her.
“Are you married, Ray?” I nod and she returns it with a knowing sigh. “Your body absorbed my touch like a dry sponge would a spoonful of water.” She lovingly caressed my face; my cheek turned, and nuzzled into her palm, my reaction was as involuntary as my erection. “You see what’s happening,” she said while holding her hand in place. “You’re like a man travelling in the desert who has come upon an oasis. Your body is searching for an attachment to mine.” I’m not a weak man but I feel a longing I haven’t felt in years and I feel this is the woman to take care of that. “I can treat your surface pains, but honestly it won’t do any good if I don’t treat the cause of your ailments which is deeper than any physical injuries you have suffered. Everything on you is out of alignment and you need spiritual nourishment badly. I can take care of that but it will take a long time.” I nod.
“Okay, whatever you say.” She swings a leg over me and straddles my body. She lowers herself on to me and my arms automatically enclose around her. She places her hands under my shoulders and pulls me close to her.
“The purpose of this is to instill calm to your energy,” she spoke softly into my ear. “I want you to concentrate on matching your breathing to mine, your heartbeat to my heartbeat.”
“Okay,” I agree feeling anything but calm but enjoying this sensation. I concentrate on what she tells me and soon feel a tranquility fall over me although it didn’t show in my cock, which was still hard and leaking. Soon however, I find myself melting into Sara, feeling her heart gently caressing my chest. I find myself matching her breath for breath and soon feel our hearts in sync. Her hands find my face and she caresses me tenderly and gently. A powerful sigh escapes me and I feel her press deeper into my body.
“Very good,” she whispers. “Just breathe deep and relax, baby.”
“Will you be my oasis,” I blurted softly. Our noses touch as she stares into my eyes.
“Of course,” she answers. “Despite what you do, your spirit is gentle and I enjoy helping you. I think we will be a great match.” She slowly spins from me and places both hands on my knees. Her feet were near my face and she smiles at me when she reads my eyes. “You can worship them if you want.” Sara’s feet were side by side and I press them close then rub the soles in my face. I inhale their sweet aroma and achieve a high I didn’t think possible. I place flat of my tongue against her heel drag it up to the top of her toes which I take into my mouth. She tasted as good as she looks and as sweet as her personality. “Thank-you,” she said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had any attention like that.”
“Thank-you,” I said. “This is an unexpected treat.” I slid my tongue between her toes and licked her dark red nails as she massaged my knees.
“Your fetish is powerful. Has anyone ever satisfied it?”
“At times, but nothing I could count on.”
“I need to increase the blood flow to your knees,” she said as the rain intensified. “It requires me to stand on you, is that okay?”
“Sure, whatever you think is best.” Sara reaches for a bottle of oil and a towel. I swallow hard as I watch her pour a liberal amount of oil onto her feet and rub it in. She rises and stands on the towel besides me. My manhood twitches uncontrollably as I focus on her oily feet, her toes glistening in the dim light.
“Lay with your knees facing out a bit,” she instructs. I do what she says and she nods slightly when I achieve the position she wants. She slowly stands on my inner thigh and leans on the wall. She kneads my quadriceps with the soles of her feet. I watch her feet at work and enjoy the firmness of her soles. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, you have no idea how good I feel.” She nods.
“If your cock is any indicator of how you’re doing, you’re doing okay,” she smiled with a wink. “My feet are having that effect on you?” She carefully moves to my pelvis and groin area.
“You have very beautiful and talented feet,” I say. She transitions to my other leg.
“I guess you like dark red toes?”
“Yes.”
“Lucky for you that’s my color,” she winked. “Do you feel your blood flow increasing to your legs?”
“Yes and other places.” She smiles and looks towards her window as a clap of thunder and a flash of lighting resonate across the sky.
“I’ll release you,” she smiled. “That’s too much tension for you to have built up.
“Thank-you,” I said with a relief she could feel radiating through the soles of her feet.
“No problem, no love making, just masturbation,” she tells me.
“I understand.” She continues her work and my muscles feel good in a way I’ve never felt before.
“I never understood the legal hang-up with masturbating a client during a massage,” she mused. “To me massaging your penis is no different than massaging your foot, your neck or anything else. In Eastern philosophy, it’s one in the same and that’s how I treat it. I normally wait until the second time with a new client but since Lisa turned you on to me, we can forego that. I know I will be seeing you again.” She steps back on the towel and sits with her back against the wall. I watch as she applies more oil to her feet and wraps her toes around my erection. A loud whimper suddenly escapes me as I stretch my cock within her grip.
“Are you okay,” she asked me, her voice laced with concern. I nod, somewhat embarrassed.
“Sorry, it’s been a while.”
“I can tell,” she said with a friendly smile. I watched her as she effortlessly glided her shiny red up and down the shaft with a fluidity that stunned me. Her grip was sure as her ankles moved up and down taking me to dizzying heights.
“You’ve done this before,” I stated.
“Oh yeah,” she said with a naughty smile. “You aren’t the only man with a foot fetish. More than a few have found bliss between my soles,” she said in a conversational, yet confident voice.” My eyes roll in my head as her big toe expertly massages my sweet spot. I watch her toes work and gently caress her feet as she takes me to heights rarely achieved. Another bolt of lightning ripping the night sky open draws her attention to the window but I was flying in rarified air, thanks to my sensuous pilot Sara so I barely took notice. “Breathe, babe,” she cooed extending her hand to my chest. “Don’t hold it in, let the air out.” I did and it came out as another shameless wail. “Good, let it out,” she smiled. My hand finds her and our fingers interlace tightly. I felt my abdomen sink and my hips push-up. The friction of her soft feet is more than I can stand. Sara studied me as pushed harder between her soles and nodded with a slight smile when my legs started trembling. “Breathe,” she continued to tell me. “Breathe deeply, babe, concentrate on the sensations you are feeling. Don’t hold it in, let everything out,” she told me. I watch her look at me and nod. “I’m taking you over the edge now,” she said as she pressed her soles tighter around me and slid up and down. I met her push for push and found myself short stroking her soles, the sweet spot of my cock pressed firmly into her instep by the arch of her foot. The wave of ecstasy encompassed my entire being as I squeezed her hand and twisted in to her. The scream that escaped me equaled my physical contortion and the violent ejection of my seed as I flung it further than I ever imagined. “Let it out, babe, good,” Sara stated as she rode the crest of the surge that erupted from my body. She held my hand as I went through my transaction to the here and now. She reached over with her other hand and stroked my face. Sara watched me go slack and still held my still leaking cock firmly, her feet streaked with my essence, her red toes resembling candy stripes due to the streaks of white on them. When I came down, she cleaned us with a towel then laid on me once again.
“Oh god,” was all I could say.
“You exploded,” she stated. “You really needed that.” I can only groan my response, the sudden release of energy has left me unable to move or focus. I know the only thing that matters is the warmth and presence of the woman and her benevolent control over me. At this moment, she was the entire universe. I know if she got up now, denied me her warmth that I so desperately needed, my world would end. “Let’s work on getting our heartbeats as one again, it should be much easier now.”
“You’re my goddess,” I told her.
“I knew that as soon as you walked in, tough guy,” she said with a smile and a kiss on my cheek. “Now back to work.”
Written and Submitted by CJ from Austin, Texas
