Foot Fetish Phone Sex

The First Glance

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The dimly lit jazz bar was my sanctuary, a place where the world slowed down to the rhythm of a saxophone’s wail. I sat at the corner table, my red hair cascading over the shoulders of my black silk blouse, a glass of pinot noir cradled in my hands. The soft glow of the candle on the table cast a warm hue over my pale skin, and I felt a rare sense of contentment. It had been a long week—work deadlines, ballet rehearsals, and a failed attempt at baking a soufflé that had left my kitchen smelling like burnt dreams. But tonight, I was here to unwind, to let the music wash over me and remind me that life was still beautiful.

That’s when I saw him. Ned. He was leaning against the bar, his dark hair slightly disheveled, his eyes scanning the room with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. I’d met him a few weeks ago at a symphony performance, and we’d been casually dating ever since. He was charming, intelligent, and had this way of making me feel like the most fascinating person in the room. But there was something else about him, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. A quirk, maybe. Or perhaps it was the way his gaze lingered just a little too long on certain parts of me.

He spotted me and made his way over, his stride confident yet unhurried. “Mary Ellen,” he said, his voice low and smooth, like the bassline of a jazz tune. “You look… stunning.”

I smiled, feeling a flush creep up my neck. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He pulled out the chair across from me and sat down, his eyes flicking to my feet. I was wearing a pair of strappy black heels, the kind that made my legs look endless and my feet delicate, like a dancer’s. I’d always been self-conscious about my feet—they were narrow and long, with high arches and toes that tapered to points. But Ned seemed to appreciate them in a way that made me feel almost… admired.

“Those shoes,” he said, his gaze still fixed on my feet. “They’re… perfect.”

I laughed, a little nervously. “Thanks. They’re comfortable, too, believe it or not.”

He nodded, but his eyes didn’t leave my feet. It was then that I noticed it—the way he was staring at them, not in a creepy way, but with an intensity that made my stomach flutter. It was like he was seeing something I couldn’t.

“Ned,” I said, teasingly. “You’re making me self-conscious. Are you… into feet?”

He looked up, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Caught me,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. “I mean, I’ve never been one to hide it. Feet are… fascinating. Especially yours.”

I raised an eyebrow, both intrigued and amused. “Fascinating, huh? Well, that’s a new one. Most guys don’t notice feet.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “Most guys are missing out. Feet are… art. They tell a story. Yours, for example—they’re graceful, like a dancer’s. And those shoes… they frame them perfectly.”

I felt a warmth spread through me, a mix of embarrassment and something else—something I couldn’t quite name. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment, I suppose.”

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made me smile. “You should. Because it’s the truth.”

The conversation flowed easily after that, as it always did with Ned. We talked about music, books, and the absurdity of modern dating. But every now and then, I’d catch him stealing glances at my feet, and each time, my heart would skip a beat. It was strange, the way it made me feel—not uncomfortable, exactly, but aware. Hyperaware.

As the night wore on, the band took a break, and the room fell into a comfortable silence. Ned leaned back in his chair, his eyes meeting mine. “So,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “I have to ask. Have you ever… given a man a foot job?”

My wine glass paused halfway to my lips. “A foot job?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his expression serious but not lecherous. “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s a weird question, but… I’ve always been curious. And with your feet… I just… I think it would be incredible.”

I felt my cheeks heat up, but I wasn’t offended. There was something disarmingly honest about Ned, something that made me want to explore this side of him. “I’ve never done it before,” I admitted, setting my glass down. “But… I’m willing to try.”

His eyes lit up, and he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

I smiled, feeling a thrill of excitement. “Why not? Life’s too short to not try new things, right?”

He grinned, reaching across the table to take my hand. “You’re amazing, Mary Ellen. Truly.”

The band started playing again, a slow, sultry number that seemed to match the mood perfectly. Ned stood up, offering me his hand. “Dance with me?”

I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. As we moved closer together, I felt his eyes drift down to my feet again, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he said, his lips brushing against my ear. “But I’m also grateful. For this. For you.”

We danced for what felt like hours, our bodies moving in sync, the music wrapping around us like a warm embrace. But the entire time, I was acutely aware of Ned’s gaze on my feet, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

When the song ended, he led me back to the table, his hand still in mine. “I have an idea,” he said, his voice husky. “Let’s get out of here. I want to show you something.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what’s that?”

He smiled, a slow, wicked smile that made my heart race. “Just trust me.”

I did.

Ned’s apartment was a reflection of him—sleek, modern, and filled with an eclectic mix of art and books. He led me to the couch, gesturing for me to sit down. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

I sat, crossing my legs and smoothing my skirt over my thighs. “So, what’s this all about?”

He knelt in front of me, his hands resting on my knees. “I want to worship your feet,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “If you’ll let me.”

My breath caught in my throat. Worship? The word sent a jolt of desire through me, something primal and unspoken. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He nodded, his hands sliding down to my ankles. Slowly, reverently, he began to unstrap my heels, his fingers brushing against my skin in a way that made me shiver. When the shoes were off, he placed them gently on the floor, his gaze never leaving my feet.

“They’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.

I felt a rush of heat, my cheeks flushing as he took one of my feet in his hands, cradling it like a precious treasure. His thumbs brushed over the arch, his touch firm yet gentle, and I let out a soft sigh.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“Yes,” I whispered, my eyes fluttering closed.

He smiled, his lips brushing against the top of my foot. “Good.”

His mouth moved down, his tongue tracing the delicate bones of my ankle, his lips pressing soft kisses along the length of my foot. I felt a tingle spread through me, a sensation I’d never experienced before. It was intimate, yes, but it was also… exhilarating.

“Ned,” I breathed, my hands clutching the edges of the couch.

“Shh,” he murmured, his mouth moving to my other foot. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.”

His tongue was warm and wet, sliding between my toes, sucking gently on each one. I felt a moan escape my lips, my body arching slightly as pleasure coiled low in my belly. His hands were firm, massaging my arches, his thumbs pressing into the tender spots that made me gasp.

“You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin.

“Yes,” I admitted, my voice shaky. “I do.”

He smiled, his lips brushing against the sole of my foot. “Good. Because I’ve been dreaming about this.”

His mouth moved back up, his tongue tracing the curve of my ankle, his lips pressing kisses along the sensitive skin. I felt my breath quicken, my body tensing as the pleasure built. It was strange, how something so simple could feel so… intoxicating.

“Ned,” I whispered, my hands tangling in his hair. “I—”

“Shh,” he said again, his voice firm but gentle. “Let me show you.”

He stood up, his eyes locking with mine. “Stand up for me, Mary Ellen.”

I did, my legs slightly shaky as I rose to my feet. Ned stepped back, his gaze raking over me, his expression hungry. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, reaching out to trace the line of my jaw with his thumb.

I felt a rush of desire, my body aching for him. “Ned,” I breathed, my hands resting on his chest.

He smiled, his hands moving to my waist. “Trust me,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

I nodded, my heart pounding as he guided me to the center of the room. “Lift your foot,” he instructed, his voice steady.

I did, resting it on the edge of the coffee table, my leg slightly bent. Ned stepped closer, his hands sliding down to my calves, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin behind my knees.

“Now the other one,” he said, his voice a whisper.

I lifted my other foot, placing it on the table beside the first. I was now standing with my legs spread, my feet bare and vulnerable, and Ned was kneeling in front of me, his eyes devouring me.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his hands moving to my ankles. “Now, wrap your feet around me.”

My breath caught as I realized what he meant. I shifted my weight, my feet sliding off the table as I brought them together, my legs still spread. Ned reached down, unbuckling his belt, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

I shook my head, my heart racing as he unzipped his pants, his cock springing free. It was thick and hard, the head glistening with pre-cum, and I felt a rush of desire at the sight of it.

“Wrap your feet around me,” he repeated, his voice urgent.

I did, my toes curling around his shaft, my heels pressing against his thighs. Ned groaned, his hands gripping my hips as he leaned forward, his mouth brushing against my ear.

“Fuck, Mary Ellen,” he whispered. “You feel incredible.”

I moaned, my head falling back as he began to move, his hips thrusting gently at first, then harder, his cock sliding between my feet, my toes tightening around him. It was strange, the sensation—the warmth of his skin, the hardness of his shaft, the way his muscles flexed with each thrust.

“Ned,” I breathed, my hands clutching his shoulders.

“Yes,” he growled, his voice thick with desire. “Say my name again.”

“Ned,” I moaned, my body arching as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping forward, his cock sliding between my feet with a wet, slick sound.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping my ass, pulling me closer. “So fucking tight.”

I felt myself teetering on the edge, my body trembling as pleasure built and built. Ned’s breath was hot against my neck, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate.

“I’m close,” he panted, his voice strained. “Tell me to cum.”

“Cum,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Cum on my feet, Ned.”

He groaned, his body tensing as he thrust one last time, his cock pulsing between my feet, his cum spilling over my skin, hot and thick. I moaned, my head falling back as he came, his hands gripping my hips, his body shuddering with release.

When he finally pulled away, my feet were slick with his cum, the scent of sex heavy in the air. Ned collapsed onto the couch, his chest heaving, his eyes never leaving me.

“Fuck,” he whispered, a smile spreading across his face. “That was… incredible.”

I laughed, a little breathless, as I stepped out of his reach, my feet leaving wet prints on the floor. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He grinned, reaching out to pull me onto the couch beside him. “It was more than a compliment, Mary Ellen. It was… perfect.”

I leaned into him, my head resting on his shoulder, the warmth of his body wrapping around me like a blanket. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I murmured, my fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

He kissed the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. “I did. And I have a feeling this is just the beginning.”

I smiled, a sense of contentment washing over me. “I think you might be right.”

As the jazz music from the bar downstairs drifted up through the open window, I felt a rare sense of peace. Ned’s foot fetish had opened a door to a new kind of intimacy, one that was raw, unapologetic, and utterly exhilarating. And as I lay in his arms, the scent of sex and satisfaction lingering in the air, I knew one thing for certain: this was just the first chapter of our story.

The Happy Dragon Spa: An Unexpected Sexual Awakening

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I had heard whispers about The Happy Dragon Spa from a few of my friends, all raving about the unique and satisfying experiences they had there. Intrigued, I decided to book myself a little treat—a foot massage. As a woman with a penchant for high heels, my feet could certainly use some pampering.

The spa was nestled in the heart of New York’s Chinatown, a vibrant and bustling area that always made me feel like I’d stepped into another world. As I entered the spa, the scent of incense and the soft, soothing music instantly calmed my nerves. The dim lighting and the gentle sound of a waterfall created a serene atmosphere, a stark contrast to the lively streets outside.

I was greeted by a small, elderly Chinese woman with a warm smile. Her name tag read ‘Li,’ and she had a gentle, welcoming aura about her. Li led me to a private massage room, the soft fabric of her silk robe whispering as she walked. The room was dimly lit, with candles casting a warm glow and a soft blanket of steam filling the air. It was the perfect setting for relaxation.

I settled onto the massage table, my body sinking into the plush cushions. Li instructed me to lie down and get comfortable, her voice calm and soothing. I did as she said, my red hair cascading over the edge of the table, and closed my eyes, already feeling the stresses of the day melting away.

Li began by placing a warm, damp towel over my feet, the heat soothing my tired soles. Her touch was gentle and deliberate, and I could feel her years of experience in every stroke. As she removed the towel, her fingers began to work their magic, kneading and massaging my feet with just the right amount of pressure.

The sensations were heavenly. Li’s skilled hands seemed to know exactly where to apply pressure, finding knots and tension I didn’t even know I had. As she worked, I felt my body relaxing, my breath slowing, and my mind drifting to a place of pure bliss.

Then, something unexpected happened. As Li was massaging the arch of my right foot, I felt a jolt of pleasure. It was as if a bolt of electricity had shot straight from my foot to my pussy, causing my back to arch slightly off the table. It was a strange, yet intensely pleasurable sensation.

I opened my eyes, a little startled, to find Li looking up at me with a knowing smile. Her dark eyes seemed to see right through me, and I felt a flush of embarrassment heat my pale skin. I thought it might have been a fluke, some random nerve reaction, but then it happened again.

Li’s thumb pressed firmly into the ball of my foot, and a wave of pleasure rippled through me. This time, I couldn’t deny the intention behind it. Li was deliberately stimulating my feet in a way that was sending shivers of pleasure straight to my core.

I was shocked, but also intrigued. I had never experienced anything like this before. As I lay there, speechless, Li continued her sensual massage, her touch becoming more purposeful with each stroke. The pleasure built, starting in my feet and spreading like wildfire throughout my body.

I felt my pussy growing wet, my breath coming in short gasps. Li’s hands moved up my calves, her fingers gently caressing my skin, and I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. She looked up at me, her smile widening, and I knew she was aware of the effect she was having on me.

“Relax, Mary,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the spa music. “Let go and enjoy the sensations.”

Her words sent a thrill through me. I had never been one to explore my sexuality in such a way, but here I was, surrendering to the pleasure Li was so expertly delivering. Her hands returned to my feet, and she began to work her magic once more.

Li’s touch was firm yet gentle, and she seemed to know exactly which spots to target. As she massaged the pads of my toes, I felt a tingling sensation between my legs. My hips involuntarily shifted, seeking more contact, more pleasure.

“That’s it,” Li murmured, her breath warm on my skin. “Let your body respond. Don’t hold back.”

I felt a sense of freedom in that moment, as if I had been given permission to let go of my inhibitions. I allowed my body to react naturally, my hips moving in rhythm with Li’s touch. Her fingers traced circles on my soles, and I felt the tension building, coiling tightly within me.

The pleasure was intense, unlike anything I had experienced during sex. My mind was overwhelmed with sensations, all centered around my feet and my aching pussy. I could feel my orgasm building, a pressure that needed release.

Li seemed to sense my impending climax. Her hands moved faster, more urgently, and her fingers pressed into the arches of my feet with just the right amount of force. I felt my breath catch, my body tensing as the pleasure peaked.

“Yes, Mary,” Li whispered, her voice encouraging. “Let it go.”

And I did. My orgasm hit me like a wave, crashing over me and sweeping me away. I cried out, my body trembling as the pleasure coursed through me. It was unlike any orgasm I had ever experienced, and I felt a sense of wonder and surprise at the intensity of it.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, I lay there, panting, my heart racing. Li’s hands gently stroked my feet, soothing the post-orgasmic sensitivity. I felt a mix of emotions—surprise, pleasure, and a touch of embarrassment.

“That was…” I began, searching for the right words.

“Incredible, wasn’t it?” Li finished for me, her voice soft and understanding. “The feet are powerful pathways to pleasure, often overlooked.”

I nodded, still processing what had just happened. I had never imagined that a foot massage could lead to such an intense sexual experience. Li helped me sit up, her hands gently supporting my back.

“Thank you, Li,” I managed to say, my voice hoarse. “That was truly something special.”

She smiled, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re welcome, Mary. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Remember, pleasure can be found in the most unexpected places.”

As I left the spa, my feet felt lighter, and my mind was buzzing with the events that had just transpired. I had discovered a new side to my sexuality, one that involved the power of touch and the incredible nerve connection between my feet and my most intimate parts.

This unexpected orgasm had opened my eyes to a whole new world of pleasure, and I couldn’t wait to explore it further. The Happy Dragon Spa had certainly lived up to its name, and I knew I would be back for another foot massage, eager to surrender to Li’s skilled hands once more.

A Foot-tastic Encounter

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Jane strolled casually into the shoe store, her eyes scanning the shelves filled with countless footwear options. With her short blonde hair bouncing with each step and her bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement, she was the epitome of a fun-loving, bubbly woman in her prime. Her perky breasts moved gently beneath her tight tank top, hinting at the sensual delights hidden underneath. Jane had a knack for attracting attention, and today was no exception.

Among the staff, a particular man, Steve, couldn’t help but notice her. With his light brown hair, piercing green eyes, and a charming smile, he exuded a certain magnetism. Steve was a man in his late thirties, with a sharp wit and an intelligent mind. Little did Jane know, Steve’s interest in her went beyond her charming personality and stunning looks; it extended to her feet.

As Jane browsed the store, her fingers trailing along the colorful displays, Steve approached her with a warm smile. His heart raced as he admired her slender figure and the graceful way she moved.

“Hi there,” he greeted, his voice smooth and confident. “Can I help you find something special today?”

Jane turned, her pretty face lighting up with a smile. “Oh, hello! I’m just looking for some new sandals for the summer. Something that’ll make my feet look good, you know?” She giggled, her bubbly personality shining through.

Steve’s gaze briefly flickered to her feet, his heart skipping a beat. Her feet were petite and perfectly shaped, with delicate toes peeking out from beneath her cropped pants. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. “I’d be delighted to assist you. I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve. I’m Jane.” She extended her hand, and as their fingers touched, a subtle spark of electricity seemed to pass between them.

Steve led Jane to the sandal section, his eyes discreetly admiring her graceful stride. “So, Jane, what kind of sandals are you looking for? Something casual or dressy?”

“Hmm, maybe something in between. I love showing off my pedicure, but I also want to be comfortable.” Jane sat on a nearby stool, crossing her legs casually, unaware of the effect her exposed feet had on Steve.

As Steve knelt down to fetch a few boxes, his eyes feasted on the sight of her bare feet. Her toes were perfectly manicured, the polish a vibrant shade of red, and her soles were smooth and soft. He fought the urge to reach out and touch them, knowing it would be inappropriate.

“Here are a few options,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. He placed the boxes in front of her, his fingers brushing against her ankle as he did so. Jane’s eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t pull away.

“Oh, these are lovely!” Jane exclaimed, picking up a pair of strappy sandals with a modest heel. She slipped them on, her feet sliding into the soft leather, and stood up to admire them in the mirror. “What do you think, Steve?”

Steve’s eyes traveled up her legs, his gaze lingering on her feet as she wiggled her toes in the new sandals. “They look incredible on you, Jane. Your feet are… well, they’re absolutely stunning.” His words tumbled out, revealing more than he intended.

Jane’s cheeks flushed with pleasure, and she giggled. “Why thank you, Steve. I do love a good compliment. And I must say, you have an eye for detail.” She leaned closer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I bet you notice all sorts of things about people, don’t you?”

Steve felt his face heat up, knowing he couldn’t hide his interest any longer. “Well, I guess I have a… particular appreciation for certain things,” he admitted, his voice low. “And your feet… they’re just…”

Jane’s eyes widened in realization, and a playful smile curved her lips. “Oh, Steve, are you a foot guy? Is that why you work here?”

Steve nodded, a mixture of relief and embarrassment washing over him. “I guess you could say that. I’ve always had a thing for feet, and working here lets me indulge my passion.”

Jane’s laughter was infectious, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch electric. “Well, Steve, I must say I’m intrigued. I’ve never met anyone with a foot fetish before. Tell me more.”

Steve’s heart raced as he found himself opening up to this captivating woman. “It’s more than just a fetish, Jane. Feet are beautiful, sensual, and so expressive. I love the way they look, feel, and taste.” He paused, his eyes searching hers. “And yours are simply exquisite.”

Jane’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt a tingle between her legs. She had never considered her feet to be particularly erotic, but Steve’s words were awakening something within her. “And what do you do with feet, Steve? I mean, besides selling shoes.”

Steve’s gaze darkened with desire as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I love to worship them, Jane. To kiss and caress every inch, to suck on those perfect toes, and to feel a woman’s pleasure through her feet.”

Jane’s mind reeled at the explicitness of his words, but she found herself wanting more. “And do you… do you like it when a woman returns the favor? You know, with her feet?”

Steve’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh, absolutely. There’s nothing like the sensation of a woman’s feet on my cock, stroking and caressing until I explode.”

Jane’s heart was pounding, and she felt a warmth spreading between her thighs. She had always been adventurous in bed, and the idea of exploring this new realm of pleasure was tantalizing. “Well, Steve, I think I’d like to learn more about this foot fetish of yours. Maybe we could… continue this conversation over dinner?”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t believe his luck. “I’d love to, Jane. I can show you just how amazing this can be.”

As Jane stood up, her feet slipping out of the sandals, Steve couldn’t resist any longer. He reached out and took her foot in his hands, gently massaging her arch, his touch sending shivers up her leg.

“Oh, Steve,” Jane breathed, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned against the display shelf. “That feels incredible.”

Steve’s lips found her ankle, his kisses trailing up her calf, his tongue flicking out to taste the smooth skin. Jane moaned softly, her body responding to his touch.

“I want to show you so much more,” he murmured against her skin. “Let me take you out, Jane. Let me worship your feet the way they deserve.”

Jane opened her eyes, desire burning brightly within them. “I think I’d like that, Steve. I want to explore this with you.”

As they arranged to meet later that evening, Jane couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation. She had never imagined a simple trip to the shoe store would lead to such a tantalizing encounter. And as for Steve, he couldn’t wait to introduce Jane to the world of foot fetishism, where every touch, every kiss, and every caress would bring them both unimaginable pleasure.

The first chapter of their erotic journey had just begun, and already, the heat between them was palpable. Little did they know, the coming nights would be filled with toe-curling, foot-centric pleasures that would leave them both breathless and craving more.