by Ella Ford
After a few minutes, Maria began to relax. Her actions became more skillful, more intense. She plucked at my toes, and massaged the ball of my foot. Her hands followed the line of my leg, pressing my calf muscle and sending jolts of pleasure up my body. I shuddered at her intensity, somehow more thrilling than Jane’s almost mechanical actions.
The green-eyed Jane seemed to sense herself losing ground as she glanced over at the resurgent Maria. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes and she turned to me, lowering her gaze and smirking. “Sister, may I…” she paused, lingering on her request, “may I use my mouth?” she asked.
Maria and I gasped in unison, shocked by Jane’s forthright request.
I allowed myself a brief moment of consideration, in which a million scenarios played out in my mind in parallel. Then I nodded and Maria groaned at the implication.
Jane smiled and lifted my foot, studying my soft sole. She traced a single finger lazily over the wrinkled flesh and I squirmed in pleasure. I found myself lifting my own hand to my chest, brushing my fingers over my breasts in eager anticipation. Then Jane locked her eyes on mine and slowly wrapped her red lips around my painted toes.
I felt the warmth of her mouth and the eager wetness of her tongue, which skipped over the tips of each my toes. I sighed deeply, a bafflingly intense warmth building in my pussy. Unable to take my eyes off Jane as she sucked on my foot, I heard Maria moan, her massage temporarily suspended while she considered her options.
“Sister,” she finally began, “may I use my mouth too?” Her voice was rich with resentment and something else. Excitement? Desire? I wasn’t sure, but there was a definite sense that her protest was purely for show.
I nodded, and tore my eyes away from Jane to her sorority rival. Maria lifted my foot and curled her lip, flicking her eyes to the left as though considering her actions one final time. Then she squeezed her eyelids tightly shut and plunged her mouth around my toes. Her motion was graceless and frantic, as though desperate to rip off the bandaid and get it over with. But it was no less thrilling. At once, my body was alive with the twin feelings of pleasure surging up my legs from my feet as the two girls eagerly devoured my toes. A feeling of warm wetness, of being utterly consumed by another person. I dropped a hand between my legs without even thinking about it, fascinated by the unique thrill of the two girls’ attention.
Jane shifted her focus, pulling my toes from her mouth. She dropped her head, pressing the flat of my sole against her face, breathing in deeply with her nose nestled in the space between my toes. I shuddered as she began to run her tongue along the length of my arch, slowly covering me in her wetness, provoking a new wetness between my legs. The green eyed beauty seem to be entirely lost in her task and I wondered, not for the first time, if she loved feet as much as I did. She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself.
Maria, meanwhile, was slowly working her way along my toes, sucking each one in turn. She seemed apprehensive at first, unable to fully let go. But with her nervousness there came the subtle thrill of submission. She was acting because I wanted her to, not because she did. I was giving her the privilege of my foot and she was taking it, with increasing enthusiasm. She shifted slightly and lifted my leg, peering at the underside of my foot, studying it with a different expression - fascination. Was she finding her own thrills in this sordid act? Before I could ponder it further, she began to nibble down the length of my arch and my mind exploded.
The intensity of sensation that was washing over my body was overwhelming. Two tongues and two mouths, both fixated on my pleasure, lost in their tasks. But I never for one moment considered progressing further with the pair of beautiful, obedient girls. The thought simply never appeared in my mind, so deep was my enjoyment of the relentless, wet attention. Then Maria glanced around at Jane, shooting the other girl a resentful scowl. The green eyed brunette was too absorbed in the task of worshipping my foot that she never even registered Maria’s hawkish stare.
Maria turned to me. She appeared lost in thought, my big toe still held between her full, red lips. After a few seconds, she pulled my foot away from her face, a thin strand of saliva linking us together still. Then an impish smirk appeared on her face as she seized her chance.
“Sister,” she purred, “may I eat your pussy?”
I gasped, shocked at her sudden request. Beside her, Jane pulled away from my foot, blinking in surprise. She obviously thought that her relentless and skillful attention had won her this competition, but now Maria’s sudden escalation threatened to see her beat. She turned to me, eyes wide and pleading, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she uttered a brief, quiet mewing sound, like a dog begging for attention.
I could scarcely believe that these two beautiful girls were fighting to be the one to take my lesbian virginity! It was unbelievable, terrifying, exquisite!
I sighed with anticipation and apprehension, then pulled my legs back. Without even thinking, I gathered my knees and lifted my hips up, collecting my skirt around my waist and hooking two slender fingers into my panties. The I pulled the delicate underwear over my soaked feet and tossed them aside with casual disregard and not a hint of self-consciousness.
Without taking my eyes off the two girls, each studying me with curiosity and trepidation, I slowly spread my legs apart, inwardly thanking the lesbian goddess that I’d been waxed earlier that week. Then I reached down and stroked two fingers over my pussy lips, shuddering at my own touch and sighing as I found myself dripping wet down there. With tender care, I parted my pink lips and returned my attention to the girls.
“Girls, there’s no need to fight over me, there’s plenty to go around,” I breathed, my heart hammering in my chest, utterly unable to believe how I was acting.
I pulled my legs further back and hooked my arms behind my knees. Maria and Jane gazed at my exposed pussy and asshole with greedy expressions, any hint of trepidation evaporating in a flash, replaced by looks of animalistic intent. They seemed to have forgotten their rivalry, at least for now.
“Don’t just stare at it girls,” I said, “tuck in!”
Oh god, did I really say that? The corniness of my porno-persona seemed to escape Maria and Jane, who seemed lost to reason or absurdity now. The two girls turned to each other and, in perfect harmony, skillfully freed each other from the burdensome cotton dresses that they wore. I studied the way their hands brushed against each others’ skin, provoking gooseflesh and gasps of pleasure. Then they turned back towards me, naked beauties with full breasts and shaven pussies, pink and brown nipples like hard nubs of frozen desire. How had I ended up here?
I could stand it no more. I thrust my hips upwards, willing them forwards, urging them to satisfy me with wide eyed eagerness. They capitulated without further delay, crawling towards my exposed sex like stalking panthers. Then, as one, they dipped their heads and plunged their tongues into my dripping lips.
They both made contact at the exact same time, kneeling side-by-side, their eager tongues flicking together on the soft, wet flesh of my pussy. I screamed out, surprised by the surge of pleasure that rippled outwards from my loins, a sudden surge of warmth that lit up every nerve ending I had. I threw my head back and pushed down into the soft mattress, unable to contain myself.
I regained my wits, fighting against the strong desire to come there and then. I lifted my head and saw the two brunettes between my thighs, heads bobbing imperceptibly up and down. They each lifted their eyes as their tongues dueled inside me, meeting my gaze, a look of utter devotion on their pretty faces. As I watched, they turned slightly towards each other, the action of their tongues on my pussy lips turning momentarily to the other and becoming a passionate kiss. I gasped at how hot they looked, devouring each other inches from my pussy, mouths smeared with my hot juices. Then they turned back to me and redoubled their efforts, concentrating their twin assault on my clitoris, flicking it, lapping at it, pushing it against my body.
I moaned audibly, not caring who heard me. I lowered
my hands, resting my fingers on each girl’s head, encouraging them with a gentle pull, forcing them onto me, signalling my enjoyment. Then I felt myself being entered, first one finger, then two, then three. I couldn’t see whether it was Maria or Jane, it could have been either, but whichever one it was began to drive her hand back and forth, stretching open my aching pussy hole until I felt that the sensation would drive me crazy. I screamed out, begging them to stop, pleading with them to fuck me harder, faster, longer.
Inside me, I began to sense a towering wall of utterly pleasurable oblivion, bearing down on me with an inescapable intent. I tried to turn away from it, tried to send my mind elsewhere, to ignore the exhilarating motion on my clit, two tongues working in perfect unison, or the endlessly thrilling piston like violation of my sex by three slender-but-insistent fingers.
Suddenly, Jane pulled away, and the distraction of change held my climax at bay for a few precious seconds. Maria shifted, revealing herself as the one ramming her hand into my pussy. She moved to her right, burying her tongue deeper in my pussy, sucking my lips into my mouth as her eager fingers continued their assault inside me. Meanwhile, Jane climbed up on the bed beside me, a hungry look in her eyes. She kneeled beside my body and I watched her move with rapt fascination.
Gingerly, she took hold of my raised ankle and guided my foot back to her mouth, then reached a hand down between her own legs and began to manipulate her pussy while she turned her attention to my toes. She glanced down, flashing me a guilty expression that made my pussy roar with approval! Jane was a foot-slut! Just like me!
It was too much. The relentless Maria and her insatiable tongue and driving fingers, the sight of Jane, my foot jammed in her mouth and trancelike expression of utter ecstasy frozen on her face as she flicked her fingers over her own wet sex.
The orgasm broke over me, a tidal wave of sensation that flooded through my entire body, spilling out from my pussy in concentric spheres of intensity. I felt the warmth take hold in my belly and rush down my arms and legs. I felt myself becoming detached from the world, engulfed with an uncanny feeling of soaring skyward, and I allowed the orgasm to take me where it would. From somewhere far away, I heard a female scream, a piercing vocalization that dripped with molten pleasure. Then another voice joined it, and I realized that it was my own voice, and that of Jane’s, her voice muffled by my foot.
My body went rigid and my hands flew to the bed beside me, grabbing handfuls of bedsheet. Every nerve ending seemed to be on fire. I tightened my thighs in response to the relentless intensity, gripping Maria’s head in place. She moaned a muffled protest, her mouth still locked on my pussy.
My body spasmed one final time and I exhaled a long and deep sigh, feeling the furious storm that had raged inside me abating. I felt myself deflate, limbs losing their previous tension, collapsing to the bed beside me and over Maria’s captive body. Above me, Jane was released from her own orgasm. She fell down to the bed, trapping my arm under her slender body. I could feel her breath on my neck, warm and fast and laced with contentment.
From somewhere far away, I felt warm pecks on my naked foot, hot kisses that caused light shivers to run up and down my leg. I lifted my head and found that Maria had reoriented herself until my foot was held against her face and she was tenderly kissing and licking my tingling flesh.
I relaxed back into the bed, feeling utterly content, the cooling afterglow of my first orgasm that wasn’t self-inflicted fading slowly, trembling with each warm touch of Maria’s mouth.
As I lay there, two thoughts crossed my mind. Had I awakened Maria’s own foot fetish? And more importantly, which girl was I going to recommend to Anna for sorority membership?
I flipped over and cupped one of Jane’s plump breasts in my hand, tweaking her pink nipple between my fingers until it hardened and throbbed. I gazed over at the pretty brunette.
Well, I thought to myself, it wouldn’t really be fair to rush into such an important decision. After all, I had my two slaves for the entire weekend!
Religious Studies
May, 2014
After Jane and Maria, the two hot wannabes who really, really wanted to become sorority sisters, I found myself embracing my sexuality like never before. That sordid initiation, my own private hazing, had introduced me to a world of pleasure and sensation that I never wanted to lose. In the days and weeks following that surprising Saturday encounter, I thought about little else - the two girls and their eager tongues, the warmth of their wetness on my feet and toes, the electric jolts of their mouths on my pussy. I could taste them on me, smell their perfume on my bedsheets.
In short, there was no turning back.
With my pussy wings earned, I felt like Roddy Piper in that dumb eighties movie, They Live. But instead of seeing invading aliens, I gained the ability to see foot hungry lesbians. Wherever I went, I noticed women looking at my feet, as I was looking at theirs. I went to bars and deliberately dressed as provocatively as possible. Sheer stockings or pantyhose were a must, with open sandals that advertised my pretty toes for all to see. I experimented with pedicures, toe rings, ankle bracelets, anything I could do to draw attention to my feet and snare the curious with my sexy soles.
And it worked. When I entered rooms, unspoken signals charged the air with sordid negotiation. Hot, young coeds or older women with sharp business suits and pristine heels. Sporty girls and nerdy girls, the cool and uncool. I noticed so many women checking out my feet, and I took full advantage, embracing my newfound super powers.
A subtle nod across a crowded bar, a glance in the direction of a bathroom and, within minutes, a cute blonde would be on her knees before me in a locked stall, greedily slipping off my heels and eyeing my flexing toes with hungry intent, unwrapping her hot gift like a child at Christmas. My social life became the connective tissue that lead me from orgasm to orgasm, from girl to girl, from sordid encounter to sordid encounter.
It was baffling. How hadn’t I noticed this before? How could it be that so many women liked feet as much as I did? I felt as though I was living in a strange porno film, a contrived scenario that couldn’t possibly be reality. And yet, it happened all the same.
I visited fetish clubs with fleeting girlfriends, surrounding myself with the public face of my darkest fantasies. I met women who worked as foot fetish escorts, paid companions who allowed their clients - both men and women - to play with their feet, charging hundreds of dollars for the privilege of a foot massage. Women who earned more in a year than most CEOs and all they had to do was show their pantyhose covered feet on webcams.
I immersed myself in the internet, allowing myself to be dragged into fetish communities and picture exchanges, collecting and providing. I consumed gigabytes of videos, explored every aspect of my sexuality. With my roommate Ruth spending most of her time away doing heaven knows what, I secluded myself in my dorm room and replaced Netflix with Pornhub, watching nylon-covered women loving each other in ever more outlandish ways.
I was, in short, an enormous, irredeemable footslut. And I loved it.
---
It’s surprising the things that you miss when you’re not paying attention. Something that had been under your nose the whole time and you never even noticed.
It was around nine at night, on a sultry late spring day in May, a Tuesday if I remember correctly. For once, both Ruth and I were at home together in our shared dorm room. I was broke, unable to maintain my extravagant lifestyle of club hopping and hotel rendez-vous on my rapidly depleting student loan fund. Meanwhile, Ruth was enjoying an infrequent night off from witnessing and church gatherings. The mousy, timid girl, whom I called my roommate in name only, was taking advantage of her rare downtime by sitting hunched over her desk, studying scripture.
By way of contrast, I was slouching on my bed wearing skimpy satin PJs, which felt gloriously cool in the warm evening air. My laptop was perched on my knees and I was stealthily watching internet porn with my Beats By Dre headphones on. Shameless, I know!
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My Macbook screen was filled with a glossy, HD video. A deliciously naked blonde girl was slowly undressing an older woman, a stern faced brunette with impeccably chiseled cheekbones. Through eyes narrowed with concentration, I watched the pretty blonde fall to her knees before the older woman and lift her foot up onto her lap. I knew what happened next, I’d watched this video and others like it a thousand times in recent months. The blonde eased off the woman’s heel and lifted the shoe to her nose, breathing in deeply, an expression of thrilled contentment spreading over her youthful looks.
A year ago, I would have dismissed the reaction of the girl as an acted facade, but now I knew only too well the exquisitely arousing pleasure of breathing in that intoxicating scent of sweat and shoe leather. In my headphones, I heard the brunette older woman moan as the younger girl wrapped her glistening lips around her pantyhose covered toes.
Suddenly, a subtle motion caught my eye and I looked up from my laptop over at the curiously quiet girl across the room. Ruth had shifted in her seat, pushing back from the desk and crossing her legs beneath the chair. Her head was down, buried in the musty old book open before her on the desk. As the moaning in my headphones continued, I studied the peculiar blonde girl.
She was wearing the same outfit she always wore. A white blouse with a rounded, Peter Pan collar and tiny floral print and a knee length grey skirt that was the very definition of modesty. I glanced down at her legs, folded beneath the seat. As usual, she was wearing dark grey pantyhose that ordinarily seemed matronly and practical, rather than sensual and alluring, an effect not helped by the simple black loafers she wore on her feet. But this time, as I watched, she flicked her toe and slipped the loafer off the back of her heel. The drab shoe fell to the floor and she made no attempt to retrieve it.