The Foot Job

Feb 22

There is a reason you are asked to present an essay of 150 words or less when inquiring about mistress fun.

For one , it tells me you know how to follow directions and secondly, and most importantly, to find out what the hell you are thinking. After all I want to be on the same thing age as you and your fantasy. And, finally it tells me if you are serious about meeting..

When he asked about my feet and my flexibility, I asked for essay. He wasted 5 days of his time sending me emails asking this and that and royally pissing me off, before he got with program and put a pen to paper and sent his essay.

He wanted to spend time with a woman who would allow him almost complete access to her feet. Complete Pedicure with massage and nail polish change. Then he wanted an erotic massage with feet involved. All while we both wore our masks.

Dude then wasted another few days, sending his screening info to me. Once he cleared screening, and paid booking fee, it was scheduled as soon as I had hot water flowing.

(( I’m in Texas and went thru that horrible weather and electrical outages and limited water. ))

My feet, usually in great shape went they some crap being snowed in. A bit drier than usual. It welcomed some attention. This man came in with his own sterilized tools. And his little stool. Cute. He went at feet and I was impressed. My size 8.5 now felt like a baby’s bottom and was pink. Thank goodness for the mask that hide my face as he used that heavy duty callus remover.

When I had him on his stomach, and started his massage. I used my hands and feet on him, but when I turned him over, was I surprised! I know size doesn’t matter but shit. Dude had it going on.

He grabbed the oil and oiled his monster and my feet. His length fit perfectly between my pink soled feet. And the dance started. He could not just lay back and take a foot stroking, he had to watch. He tried sitting up a bit. It was too intense.

Back on his back, I continued to stroke, he was trying so hard not to grab my feet and fuck them, I could tell in his eyes. We continued this way for a bit. Every few strokes he would yell, shit. At last with his eyes looking dead at me, he exploded all over my toes while saying shit, over and over again.

I was asked to stay where I was, no problem. He returned to me and using hot towels wiped my feet. After a towel wipe up of feet , they were placed in a portable foot bath and he proceeded to give my feet a bath with bath salts and essential oils. As my feet dried in a towel, he took a shower.

It is so wonderful to be trusted with your secrets.