I traced my thumbnails from the rounded ball of her ped down into the depths of her arch. Her skin was warm and supple. She bit her lip and her foot quivered slightly, and I hastened to take advantage. I lifted her foot higher and boldly thrust out my tongue, licked at her heel.
‘Oh,’ she murmured, sinking back into the chair.
I was brimming with sexual energy, but I managed to oh-so-slowly run my wet tongue over her heel, across her sole, up into her toes. Then I did it again. And again. Slow and sensuous, dragging my tongue over her sensitive foot-bottom. It took a monumental effort to stop myself from just devouring that incredibly edible foot, but I made it. I didn’t want to frighten that trembling ped back into its shoe.
I licked and licked at Melinda’s silky sole, and her hands strayed onto her braless breasts. She gently cupped and squeezed her large breasts as she watched me lap at her sole. I swirled my tongue all over the tender flesh, and her body jerked and her foot-bottom crinkled. She moaned when I plugged my tongue into her toes, swept it back and forth across their curvaceous undersides. Then she out and out shrieked when I tilted her foot down and swallowed her toes.
‘God, that feels so … strange,’ she breathed, eyes half closed, hands kneading her breasts.
I inched my lips forwards on her ped, taking in as much as I could, then slid her foot back out of my mouth until her toes reappeared, glistening with my wetness. I sucked on them, pulled on them, all at once, then individually, revelling in the sweet taste of them, their shapely plumpness.
Melinda closed her eyes and pinched the stiffened imprints of her nipples, her chest heaving. I tugged on her big toe with my mouth, then moved down and bit into the slick material between her big toe and the next in line, tearing at the fabric with my teeth.
‘Jesus,’ she gasped, eyes open and staring, fingers frozen on her nipples.
I ripped the stocking tip open, baring the woman’s pale, gloss-painted big toe. I shook the stocking like a dog shakes a bone, until the run widened to reveal all of her toes. Then I captured the five of them in my mouth again, skin-on-skin this time, hot and wet.
Melinda rolled her nipples between her fingers and groaned as I sucked on her naked toes, squirmed my tongue around underneath them. She urged me on, wriggling her toes in my mouth, lifting her other foot and crossing it over the one I was sucking on, presenting it to me.
I disgorged her foot-digits and dropped the gleaming threadbare ped in my lap and anxiously attacked her other stiletto-clad foot. I pulled away the tease-shoe and placed it on the carpet. Then I inhaled the heady fragrance of her spectacular foot for a moment before gorging on it, devouring her stockinged toes, sucking on them.
She squirmed around in the warmth of my mouth-embrace, the blowtorch heat given off by my fondling hands and tongue. I encircled her ankles with my fingers and caressed them, rubbed her muscled calves, wagging my tongue back and forth across the ball of her foot as I tugged on her toes.
‘Oh my God,’ she exclaimed, jerking her foot away as a thought suddenly struck her. ‘Somebody could see us.’ She stared at the plastic security shutters draping the front of the store.
‘So?’ I replied, rubbing her feet together, catching my breath.
She looked at me, perhaps now fully realising the awesome power of my foot need. ‘Well, uh, is there someplace a little more private … where we can continue … this?’
I lowered the woman’s saliva-slick feet to the floor, then jumped up and pulled her out of her chair. I led her by the hand into the back of the store, into the break room, watching as she tiptoed after me like my own private ballerina.
The break room’s small – a sink, a counter and a couple of cupboards; a small white fridge and brown couch – but any ped-port will do in a sexual storm. I’d used it before, with extremely satisfying results. I pushed Melinda down onto the couch and knelt in front of her, in front of her feet, brushing her ped-tips off before taking up where I’d left off with her left foot.
I bit into the damp fabric of her stocking and savagely tore it open, exposing her creamy white toes as I’d done with her other foot. I teased them with my tongue, getting them all wet and wriggly, then sniffed them.
Melinda shrugged off her jacket and fumbled her blouse open, revealing her lush, pink-tipped breasts. She grasped and pushed them together, squeezed, primping her hardened nipples and moaning softly as I sucked and sucked on her toes.
I pulled her tootsie out of my mouth and slithered my tongue in between her toes, one at a time, down the wiggling row and then back up again from the other side. Did the same with her other foot. Then I pushed her peds together, side by side, and swiped my tongue back and forth between the delicious pair, licking and sucking toes as she shoved up a breast and licked and sucked her own nipple.
‘Let – let me kiss your feet,’ she finally whispered.
‘Shure,’ I slurred, mouth full of foot.
But as I climbed to my feet, the blood suddenly rushed from my head into my pussy, and I saw stars. I gazed down at the ped-heavenly lady, my head spinning and my pussy dripping with lust. I needed to come, and come now. ‘Take off your clothes,’ I hissed.
Melinda scrambled to her feet and hastily pulled away her blouse, unzipped and dropped her skirt and peeled off her panties. I had her beat by a heartbeat, and we stood there in our stockinged feet – hers considerably more tattered than mine – nude except for our sheer, sexy leg garments.
She reached out and fingered my blonde hair, closing her eyes and puckering her lips. But I was having none of it. Foreplay was over. I wanted, needed, to fuck. I pushed the naked hottie onto the couch and climbed aboard myself, positioning our limbs so that we were scissored pussy to pussy, fur on fur – one of the best ways for women to fuck while keeping their peds in play.
I undulated my hips, sliding my soaking blonde pussy back and forth over Melinda’s dark, springy wetness. She groaned. I groaned back when she clasped one of my red-stockinged legs and brought my foot into her mouth.
‘Yes, yes,’ I urged, her sucking mouth feeling so very good on my outstretched toes.
She grabbed at the lacy top of my stocking and pulled it down and off my leg, swallowing my bare toes and tugging on them. I closed my eyes, my body flooding with heat, shimmering with excitement. I did what she was doing to me, sucking on her right foot, the two of us pulling on one another’s toes as we rubbed our smouldering pussies together.
We moved faster, more urgently, the wet friction priming us for explosion, our ripe, rubbing clits tingling to the point of bursting with juicy orgasm. Melinda raked her fingernails up and down my leg, her tongue writhing in between my red-tipped toes. I sucked on her big toe, slotting my fingers in between her other toes and clenching them, digit to digit, in an intimate embrace.
‘Jesus, I’m coming,’ the foot-blessed babe yelped, her hot breath steaming over my slick toes.
Her body tensed, then jerked, her breasts shuddering and feet jumping as she was jolted by ecstasy. I desperately ground my pussy into her pussy and sucked on her big toe, until my own clit tingled out of control and orgasm detonated inside me. I hugged Melinda’s trembling leg and quivered with raw, white-hot joy, my head spinning and body melting.
Eventually, we managed to unglue ourselves. And as I held and caressed Melinda’s feet, she explained why she looked so familiar to me: we both had the same pedicurist. And it was that loose-lipped foot beautician who had tattled to Melinda about my ped peccadilloes.
It seems my reputation for loving ladies’ feet is spreading, foot by foot. I can only hope there are more women like Melinda who want to take my passion for a test walk.
– H.T., Manitoba, Canada
Cheating
I know this is going to sound weird to a lot of guys, but I get off on being cheated. That probably makes no sense to you at all, but look at it this way. Where you might like big boobs, or leather, or whatever it might be, I like to watch another guy fuck my wife. Maybe you think I should hav
e my head examined, but I prefer to face the truth. I’m a dirty little wanker and I deserve what I get.
I’m not worthy of my wife for a start. I can’t keep her satisfied, and who needs a weedy little pencil-dick like me anyway, when the world’s full of real men? She only keeps me around for the money, and because she thinks it’s a laugh for me to know what she’s doing with other men. Sometimes she even lets me watch.
I was always like that. I always knew I was unworthy. Women are just so far above me, and other men too, although men should always worship women. Even when I was young I knew it, and with the other boys I would look at porn mags with every bit as much lust, but in horror too, for my own dirty thoughts and for the mind-numbing outrage of me daring to look at a naked woman. I knew it was wrong, I could feel their disgust emanating from the pages, but I still looked, and alone in bed at night I still wanked my dirty little cock.
I really am truly pathetic. I’ve never been able to control myself or do what I know is right. No man should be privileged to look at a naked woman without her specific permission, and no woman should ever, ever be obliged to expose herself for the entertainment of men. Yet again and again I find myself masturbating over dirty magazines, lost in grovelling worship of the beautiful, divine beings displayed so cheaply in those flimsy pages even as I tug my cock over them. I can’t help it.
All through my teenage years and my twenties I was completely useless with women. I knew none of them could possibly be interested in me, but still I dared to dream, of being an obedient, servile husband to some wonderful woman, or any woman, but what right do I have to pick and choose? None whatsoever.
I ought to be whipped for just daring to think I might be allowed a preference, let alone expressing one, or just plain spanked, naked over the knee of some magnificent woman, any woman, spanked like the dirty snivelling little brat I am. And when I’ve been soundly spanked and I’m snivelling on the floor, she should tie my hands behind my back to stop me playing with myself and make me watch while she makes love to some powerful masculine man, a real man, with a cock big enough to satisfy her.
I’m very lucky indeed to be married. Certainly I don’t deserve my Mistress, but She deigned to have me and to make me Her husband. To me She is the Goddess, the perfect being, and so far above me I’m not even worthy to use the name She does with her friends. To them, other women and real men, She is Katrina. To me, if I am privileged, she is Mistress Kat or, usually, just Mistress. I hate it when other men don’t address Her respectfully, and yet who am I to criticise?
At first, I think, She just regarded me as somebody who could be helpful to her. She is from Poland, and wanted to live in the UK, so answered one of my many pitiful attempts to attract a wife. Although uncertain at first, She very soon learnt what I was, and since shortly after our marriage has treated me with the contempt I deserve. I serve Her in every way I am able to, I support Her and count it a privilege, and while I do not claim to have any right to witness Her pleasuring herself with other men, that is what I desire more than anything else in the world, and which I am occasionally permitted.
More usually, I am simply left at home while She goes out to meet men. If She finds somebody she likes She will either go home with him or bring him back to the house, in which case I pretend I am just a lodger. In the first case I will do my chores until about midnight, then go upstairs to masturbate as I think of Her with Her man, imagining his cock sliding in and out of Her body, even in Her mouth, a privilege I have never been and will never be permitted, or even in Her anus, into which I would never even dare to think of intruding my penis, but in which She sometimes enjoys other men’s, and which I am occasionally permitted to kiss. In the second case I will wait until they have gone up to Her room and creep into the box room next door, in which I sleep, from which I will listen to them making love, until I can bear it no more and am forced to take my cock in my hand.
Then there are those very rare occasions when She finds somebody who doesn’t mind if I watch, occasions that for me represent the pinnacle of Heaven. Most men wouldn’t put up with having a little wanker like me tossing off in the corner while they fuck my wife, but a few don’t mind, and fewer still actively take pleasure in it.
Seven times in all it has happened, five times with men who are prepared to tolerate me, twice with men who enjoyed my presence. Mistress prefers black men, who she says give her more pleasure, and of the seven, six have been black. The very first was a young man with the body of an athlete She met in a bar one night and brought home. She had told him She was married and that Her husband wouldn’t interfere but would like to watch. He had agreed, far too strong and confident to care if a little shit like me was there or not, or whether I lived or died.
Oh how I hated it, every second. Watching him kiss Her. Watching him take off Her clothes. Watching him touch Her divine body and comment rudely on the size of Her breasts. Watching him take out his big black cock and demand that She suck it. She did. She took that huge dark penis in Her hand and then into Her mouth and She sucked it, enjoying every moment, while I know for a fact that the thought of my penis makes Her feel physically sick.
They didn’t care that I was watching at all. After a bit I think they’d forgotten I was even there. They did all sorts of things, the sorts of things that make me so excited and so jealous, but which I know could never be permitted to me. She even allowed him to enter Her from behind, on Her knees, a position no woman should ever have to adopt for any man. How that hurt, to see my Mistress despoiled, to see Her most intimate secrets exposed to his lust-filled eyes and to see that long black cock slide into her body, to hear Her moans of pleasure for what he was doing to Her, and how it excited me. By then I had spunked in my hand.
There have been similar scenes with four other men. Some were utterly indifferent to my presence, some were irritated by me, and who can blame them? Three of the five told me to stop wanking and I had to be content with finishing myself off over the memories of what I’d seen and the thought that he was still in bed with Her, enjoying Her body while I lay alone in my room masturbating like the perverted little wretch I am.
Then there were the two, the two who took pleasure in me being made to watch as they despoiled my beautiful Mistress. The first was one of the biggest men I’ve ever seen, maybe six foot six, and so full of confidence and power it made me cringe on the floor just to look at him. Mistress thought he was wonderful, a real man among real men, as She told me while kissing him and stroking his ebony skin.
He enjoyed being cruel to me, and laughed as She showed me his penis and told me to pull out my own. Mine looked like a maggot next to his, and She told me to make myself erect while She did the same for him, leaving me wanking naked on the bedroom floor while She caressed his magnificent cock and balls, stroking and licking until She had coaxed him to a full, towering erection. He was twice as long as me, and more than twice as thick, a real man’s cock.
How they tormented me, for hours. I was made to kneel in one corner with my hands tied behind my back to stop me wanking at my dirty little cock while they made love. He talked to me as they did it, showing me my own wife’s body, Her breasts and bottom and sex, which he touched intimately, as if he possessed Her, and She didn’t mind. He told me that he was going to put his cock in Her mouth, and as She sucked him he told me how good it felt to be in my wife’s mouth.
Never had I felt so wretched, or so excited. My cock had stayed rigidly hard, sticking up like a pathetic little finger to betray my feelings. Yet I could not touch, could not bring myself to that much-needed climax, even as I watched my Mistress lie back to accept him inside Her. He took Her legs. He rolled her up into a thoroughly vulgar and inappropriate position, with Her sex spread to his monstrous cock and the cheeks of Her divine bottom split apart to show the tight orifice I have occasionally been permitted to kiss in worship. He put his cock to Her sex and rubbed it around, telling me how wet She was and how excited She was for him, not for me, Her grovellin
g little dirt bag of a husband, but for him. He put his cock inside Her, and as he did I nearly came despite having no power to touch.
As he fucked Her he called me a shit and a worm. He told he how good it felt, using dirty words like ‘slut’ and ‘cunt’ to describe my divine Mistress and Her perfect body. Oh how I writhed, how I begged for release, but they only laughed at me and grew more passionate still. What he then did I shall remember to my dying day. He had fucked Her well, leaving Her in such bliss that Her dignity was forgotten as She lay with Her thighs wide in acceptance and Her hands on her breasts. He asked Her to roll over, and my heart jumped at the outrage of such a suggestion, that my Mistress, my own perfect Mistress, should be asked to adopt such an undignified position.
Yet She did it, perhaps because She knew how much it would hurt me to see her so abused, and with Her bottom lifted She allowed him to penetrate Her from behind. That, I thought, would be the climax of their encounter, but no. He gave only a few firm pushes and then withdrew once more, his long black cock now glistening with my Mistress’s juices, and he pressed his face between Her open buttocks.
I thought, naturally, that he was worshipping Her, giving obeisance to Her as a man should to a woman, if She permits it. But no, he was licking Her not to show how low a creature he was beside Her, but to prepare Her for the ultimate degradation, sodomy.
How I stared. It was hard to take in, to believe that he really intended to do such a thing, and worse by far for the soft moans and sighs issuing from my Mistress’s mouth. I could have cried, and when he stopped and held apart Her cheeks to show Her now moist and open anus I screamed in pain. He laughed and jerked his thumb at me, calling me white boy and making a joke of how I didn’t want to see Her sodomised. She laughed too, and told him to do it so I could see.
He did. He held Her cheeks open as he put the head of his cock to Her anus, so that I could see Her hole spread to take him, pushing in and then opening around the thickness of his meat. I watched as it went in, the full monstrous length. I heard Her moans and pleas to go slowly, and Her breathless ecstasy as She was sodomised. He came inside Her, up Her bottom, and in the dirtiest manner imaginable, with half his cock inside as he masturbated inside Her. Worse still, he had reached around Her belly and made Her climax while he was still in up Her bottom, and as She came, She called out his name.
Nexus Confessions: Volume Three Page 11