by Jayce, Aven
“I would’ve thought most people with foot fetishes would enjoy the real thing, not a silicone replica lopped off above the ankle,” I say.
He laughs and lifts my foot to his mouth, sucking lightly on my toes. I sprawl out on the chair, relaxed, and enjoy the feeling. His nibbling and sucks run through my leg and end at my quivering clit; an immense turn-on. I’ve never experienced a toe suck and it’s a winner in my book.
“When you’re alone for as long as I’ve been,” he says. “You take what you can get.”
He removes the foot from the box and turns it over. Holy shit, the thing has a fake vagina. No way. Between the heel and the arch is a life-like opening that he pours honey into. Oh my God, this is some crazy ass shit.
He slides the silicone over my foot and allows his blanket to fall to the floor. Hell yes, there’s that dick. Okay, that thing’s not going to fit inside that... Jesus. I place my elbows on the armrests and lean forward as I feel his dick slide along the bottom of my foot. He’s in. This is insane.
“Touch yourself,” he requests. He stands before me, feet spread, holding my ankle and foot over his dick. Now that’s something you don’t see everyday.
My finger’s still sticky and my clit’s covered in honey. It’ stimulating to touch and I’m aroused in a matter of minutes.
His eyes are on my hand and his dick moves correspondingly to the speed of my fingers. He holds the silicone at my ankle so it’s taut, and the pressure against the bottom of my foot is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. His dick gliding along the arch up to my toes and back is incredible.
I bend my knee as he leans forward for a kiss, and when our lips touch, he cums.
“Fuck,” he whispers. He grips my foot and moves it slowly over his dick, as if he’s pumping it dry. “Omm,” he mumbles with heavy breaths until he’s motionless with a happy grin.
“Goddamn, that was good. You alright?” He asks while taking off the silicone and tossing it back into the box. His dick still throbs with a few drops of cum at the tip.
“That was wild and crazy. I loved it.”
“But you’re not finished?”
I shake my head.
“I’d be more than happy to fix that.” He kneels and takes my hands in his, holding them firmly. “My first experience with a woman who shaves,” he smirks.
In a matter of minutes, with licks and flutters of his tongue across my clit, the moment comes. I’m squirming, shouting his name, and tightening my chest as a strong orgasm rushes through my body. Dan’s passionate about making love, and man, can that guy use his tongue. He’s got some muscles and length to that thing.
“Satisfied?” he whispers with another indulgent kiss, both of our lips sticky with honey.
“Mmm.”
“That’s a yes.” He returns to his chair, blanket back in place as I study his tat once more. Dark is lovely. “You got your answer, by the way. The foot’s my deepest, darkest, sexual secret. I think.”
“Oh,” I laugh. “There could be more?”
“Maybe, but I believe that’s enough for one night.”
We dress and I stare at his wall of books while he uses the bathroom. There are more erotic books than any other genre, which seems odd for a man. Oh wait, there’s a shelf that’s different. Steve Martin, Augusten Burroughs, David Sedaris, Charles Bukowski, Gillian Flynn, and Chuck Palahniuk. But no, then it goes back to erotica.
“Still admiring my books?” he asks.
“What’s with all the erotic novels?”
“Research. They’re the best guides to figuring out what women desire.”
I can’t help but laugh at such a nonsense response. “You know full well it’s all fantasy. Women read these books because that type of man doesn’t exist in real life.”
“Exactly. And the more inside information I have on the subject, the more I can separate myself from the other men. I bet I can be just like one of those fantasy guys. Think about it. That foot fuck will stay in your head longer than if we went up to my bed and had missionary sex, right?”
“Wait, you’re confusing me. Is the foot fetish real or did you play that game because you read it in a book?”
He smiles and won’t answer.
“Dan?” I demand a response.
“It’s real,” he whispers. “And to be honest, I enjoy erotica because it turns me on. That wall is like a lifetime collection of Penthouse and I find nothing wrong with it.”
He’s right. I shouldn’t be so closed-minded to think that women are the only ones who would enjoy these stories.
“The western books you picked up are classic pulp porn, my new favorites. I’ve been laughing my ass off for days. Right now, I’m in the middle of Six-Cum Shooter.”
“I had started a decent book myself, but someone stole it from my house. You think that person might give it back to me, like tonight, or is he gonna be a dick and keep it, because I‘d like to finish reading it.”
“Div, I don’t think you’re ready for it. It’s quite dark.”
“I’m aware of the mutilation scenes.”
“No, it gets much darker and I think I changed my mind, Hayden’s not for you. Go ahead and pick another book, anything you want.”
I shake my head. “I’ll buy my own copy. Forget I asked.”
“Don’t get upset, I’m trying to protect you from some of the content.”
“Why now?”
He sighs while my brow furrows in discontent, waiting, waiting, come on.
“Just give it to me, please. I can handle it.”
“Alright, but if you show up crying at my door in the middle of the night because you had a nightmare, don’t expect me to keep my hands off of you when you crawl into my bed for protection.”
“Deal,” I grin.
He finds book two and three of the trilogy and passes them along.
“You sure you want to continue reading Zyn’s story?”
“Zyn’s exciting,” I respond. “His name reminds me of the word sin, which goes along with the story perfectly. I’m ready for whatever happens. I can handle it.”
“Div?”
“Hmm?” I say with a smile as I flip through the books.
“I like you.”
“Good,” I respond.
He waits for a further reply but I hold out, teasing him as payback for taking the books.
“That’s it? Good?”
“Well, I don’t see why you wouldn’t, except for the mistake of showing your father my titties and fufu, I’m pretty likeable.”
Smartass.
“Will you walk me home?”
“Uh,” he throws his head back and stares at the ceiling. “I feel so used.”
I stand and wait by the door.
“Why are you taking off so soon? Is it your stomach again or is it another kind of illness, like, perhaps the foot fuck sickened you? Tell me the truth.”
“Nope,” I shake my head. “It’s eleven and I need my beauty sleep, plus I promised my evil step-mother I’d be home by midnight, that’s all.”
“I see,” he says, stepping outside and leading me to the sidewalk. “You have plans for the rest of the weekend?” I hold up the books and he rolls his eyes. “Will you call me when you’re finished? If I don’t hear from you then I’ll know you’re hiding under your bed in fright.”
We pause at my front steps, both of us licking our lips like a couple of teens preparing for a goodnight kiss after the high school dance.
“Div,” he says, with his hands in his back pockets.
“Dan.”
“Div,” he whispers with a drop of a brow. I notice the moonlight has cast two separate shadows of us that should be one. Move closer.
“Dan,” I whisper with a step forward and my hands on his shirtless chest. I rub my lips along his neck until I reach his ear to give him my final message of the night. “You’re quite a kick-ass guy, not one of those mundane blokes you run across in the meat department of the supermarket, and yes, I like you
too.” There, I said it.
I see a smile on his face before we kiss. An intimate, heartfelt, I’ll miss you until I see you again, kiss. With the release I rush up my front steps, but stop suddenly when I notice a light coming from the second floor of my place. Dan asks if I forgot something and I look up, and he looks up, and I say shit, and he asks if I could’ve left it on, and I say fuck, and he knows something’s wrong.
“Let me go in and check it out,” he says.
“No, I’ll check. You stay here.”
“Div,” he walks up to the door and puts his hand out for my key.
I shake my head.
“This is no time for games, open the door.”
“It’s my home and I’ll take care of it.”
“What does that mean, are you expecting someone? You’ll take care of what?”
I exhale deeply and take out my key, look at the lock, then back to him. I pause again. I don’t want to ruin this thing we have, it’s too good, and because of that he can’t come in.
“Divine, open the door.”
“No. The light’s on upstairs, let’s go around back to my second floor deck and through that door.”
“Fine.” He takes my hand and whisks me through the side gate, into my backyard, and we climb the wooden stairs to my second floor. “Stay here, outside, and I’ll check things out,” he insists.
When we reach the top I see my bedroom door’s open and the light’s on. There’s movement. It’s a girl, a blonde, that fucking bitch.
I race past Dan and into my home, reaching for Hannah’s arm as Bridgette emerges from my bathroom. Both girls scream. Hannah slips out of my grip and runs past me, out the back door, while Dan catches his sister in his arms. Bridgette screams again and kicks her feet frantically to escape. I rush outside but Hannah’s already at the bottom of the steps, running out of my yard.
“What the fuck?” I walk back inside and slam the door. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
“Let go of me Dan, or I’ll tell her all your dirty little secrets!” Bridgette yells and then vomits down the front of her pink sorority shirt. It looks better that way. All sorority girls should have puke down the front of their chests.
“You’re wasted, and what the fuck do you think you’re doing breaking into Div’s house? You wanna go to jail?” Dan yells back at her.
“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” I say, picking up my cell.
“No wait, please don’t. I didn’t mean it,” she starts to cry. “Hannah talked me into it, she thinks you killed her boyfriend and she was looking for evidence. Please, I don’t want to go to jail.”
“She’s bombed off her ass, Div. If I weren’t holding her up right now she’d be crawling around on your bedroom floor. How much did you drink tonight, sis?”
She throws up again and continues to cry.
“Dan, put her in the bathroom until I decide what to do.”
“She’s only nineteen,” he says.
“She broke into my home.”
“Your door was open,” Bridgette groans.
“What the hell’s wrong with your family? An open door doesn’t mean it’s okay to walk inside someone’s house!” I yell. I think back to this afternoon, when I was in such a hurry and distracted while getting ready for my date. I could’ve easily forgotten to lock the door, but still, that doesn’t mean any of this is okay.
“Hannah should go to jail. I want to press charges.”
Dan drags his sister into the bathroom and places her in the tub. “You can’t file a report against one of them, it would have to be both, in which case I’ll beg you not to. My sister’s really not a bad person; she’s just with the wrong crowd. Hannah’s the one with issues.”
“That entire sorority has issues. They’re a bunch of prissy alcoholic rich girls who plan on getting a degree based on their looks. And don’t think it can’t happen, because I’ve been witnessing it for years. And now they’re gonna break into homes on top of all of their other shit.”
His face changes to one of concern as he listens to my rant. “Hey,” he says with a raised hand. “Div, calm down. Clearly there are things I’m unaware of with you and your students, but trust me when I say my sister isn’t some rich kid getting by on her looks.” He turns and shakes his head at his sister who’s still awake but unable to stand. “Bridgette, what the fuck? It’s time to grow up.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “Sorry Professor.”
“An apology isn’t enough. Did you guys take anything? Did you go downstairs? What did you see in my house? What were you looking for?”
I’m pissed, Dan’s angry, and Bridgette’s vomiting again. Fuckin’ A.
“Call her,” I say. “Bridgette, call Hannah and tell her to get her ass back here. I want to talk to both of you, and if she doesn’t come back, the police are going to be notified.”
“I think she’s about to pass out,” Dan says. “Bridgette, wake up.”
“Noooooo,” she moans. “No cops. We didn’t take anything.” She grins suddenly. Damn her, I have a feeling I know what’s in her head.
“Did you go in my guest bedroom?”
She shakes her head and then laughs.
“Bullshit. You say a word about my collections at school and you’re toast, you hear me? Don’t you dare open your mouth.”
I pace and Dan does the same. He looks at his sister then at me, then to his sister, back and forth.
“Div, I don’t know what to do. If it was anyone else I’d say call the police, but...”
“I know, the only reason they’re not here is because you’re related to this... this girl in my tub.”
I search Bridgette’s pockets and find her cell then call Hannah’s number.
“Bridgey! Where are you? I’m in your bro’s backyard.”
“Hannah, get your ass back over here or I’m calling the police.”
There’s silence and then I hear heavy breathing, as if she’s running away.
“Hannah? Listen to me. What you did was illegal and you can’t brush it off as some sorority prank, or have your parents buy your way out of being arrested. I want you to get your ass back here and talk to me or both you and Bridgette are taking a ride in a police car tonight.”
“Nooo.” Another moan comes from the tub. “Hannah, come save me.”
“Hannah?” I use my sternest voice. “You’ve got one minute to...”
“Hi Professor Hallowell,” Hannah says from outside my bedroom window. She waves and then walks inside. “Knock, knock. Anyone home?”
“Are you drunk, too?” Dan asks.
“Get your butt inside and take a seat by your friend.” I demand with my arms folded and tapping my foot. Little pissant.
“I can hold my liquor,” Hannah sneers as she walks past Dan, “unlike the baby in the tub.” She sits on the counter of my double vanity and swings her feet, leaving scuffmarks on my white cabinet doors. “Bridgette, what gives? If you hadn’t taken those last two shots of Vodka earlier you would’ve escaped.”
“Enough,” I scold. “First, how did you know where I lived?”
Hannah flashes a big grin toward Dan.
“Sorry,” he says. “I mentioned to my family you were a few doors down the row. I didn’t think anything of it.”
“Did you take anything?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“What did you think your were going to find? What were you looking for?”
“Evidence.”
“Hannah, I had nothing to do with Luke’s death. It sounds like it was either a hit and run or an accident. The person may not have even realized they hit someone.”
“How shitty of you,” she says and wipes a tear from her cheek. “Don’t give me that dog ass story like the cops did. If you hit a person on a bike you’re going to hear it. Whoever did it, knew.” She stands and gets a tissue to wipe away more tears.
“Hanny,” Bridgette whispers. “Don’t cry. Come sit by me, Babe.”
> “No Bridgette, get up. Let’s go.”
Dan blocks Hannah’s hand from reaching for his sister and takes control of the situation. “She’s not going anywhere with you tonight, now take a seat and finish answering Div’s questions.”
“Div?” Hannah laughs. “Your name is Div? That’s the worst name in the history of the world.”
“What the fuck’s wrong with you, you, you, little tool? Are you in grammar school or something? No adult would ever pick on another person’s name. At least not one with any intelligence.”
“Stop it,” Dan raises his voice. “This is getting out of hand. Hannah, sit your ass down and shut your mouth before I’m the one who calls the police. I don’t care if my sister gets arrested. After listening to this shit it would probably do her some good. You know what, Div, go ahead and call the cops. They deserve what’s coming to them.”
“No, wait,” Hannah says. “Wait, I’m sorry. You’re right, I didn’t mean to be a nasty bi-otch and pick on your name.”
“That’s not what I want an apology for.”
“Alright, I’m sorry. You probably didn’t kill Luke.” She tears up again and then starts to sob. “I just miss him so much and Margaret said it was probably you.” She blows her nose in my towel, my towel! And even though she’s emotionally distraught, I’d love to smack her upside the head.
“What were you looking for?”
“Something, anything, I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Maybe a note or a diary saying how much you hate all of us.”
“What am I missing here?” Dan asks.
“It’s a war with a colleague, a long story, and all I can say is that she has total control over the students and makes me out to be the bad guy.”
“Professor Cole?” he asks. “Are you talking about Margaret? I had her during undergrad, hell my parents did too. She’s a sweetheart, but the other person in the department when I was there was a dope. He yelled at everyone and demanded too much work. He treated the students as if they were at graduate level.”
“And you know this how?” I ask with my arms folded once again.
“Margaret said...” He starts to speak but catches himself. “I don’t know, I never had the guy,” he answers. “Forget I brought it up.”
