Sabrina knew that this was my reason for existing, and she was happy to lay back and enjoy my tongue bath. My goddess has stunningly gorgeous feet, the feet of an aristocrat, of a queen. Her heels are rounded and substantial, her arches are high and curved, and her toes are shapely and perfectly proportioned. It’s as if they were made to be licked and worshiped.
I licked her feet meticulously for another fifteen minutes, taking care to get between her toes, and all around her heels, and then dried them with my shirt, and put her socks and sneakers back on.
“I’m going to the lab for a few hours, and then I’m going running. Iron my jeans, and do the laundry while I’m out. I’ll be back at 1:00.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, as she put on a light jacket and left.
While she was out, I collected her laundered jeans and laid them out on the back of the couch. One by one, I ironed them all. When I was done, I went to the store and bought the ingredients for dinner. Then, I cleaned up Sabrina’s room and did her laundry. I had finished when she walked in again.
She was sweating from her run and looked comfortably tired as she hung up her jacket. She walked over to the couch, sat down next to me and swung her feet up into my lap. She was smiling at me, seeing my growing excitement. “I’m going to need a lot of attention today,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, taking her warm sneakers off. Her socks were quite moist, almost hot to the touch, as I slipped them off her feet.
“That was a good run,” she said. “I ran almost twelve miles.” She lay back into the cushions and closed her eyes as I began licking her feet for her for the second time that day.
“You have extra work today,” she said. “I really worked up a sweat.”
“Yes, ma’am, thank you, ma’am,” I said between strokes of my tongue, licking up all the sweat gladly. Whenever I served her after one of her runs, it was always a much more intense experience. Her feet were hot and soaked and tasted ten times saltier than usual. They were especially soft and yielding, and yet I could feel the muscles pulsing beneath her skin from the exertion of her exercise.
Sabrina allowed me to continue for as long as I wanted, licking her toes, her heels, and her soles, adoring them religiously. “Feels so nice,” she said dreamily, her eyes still closed. Then, she did fall asleep, napping while I kept licking her feet clean.
Reverence was still bubbling within me like an unstoppable spring, so I kept kissing her feet tenderly, covering them with my adoration. I kissed along the tops, along her toes, and then her soles, worshiping every inch. She awakened again as I was finishing kissing the edges of her second heel. She smiled, and then announced, “I want to go to the mall to get shoes.”
As soon as she uttered her wish, we hopped in the car and headed for the shoe store. Right away, Sabrina found a pair of black flats that she fancied. She smiled subtly as she slipped her sexy foot into the sleek shoe, watching my hypnotized gaze. Making a show of checking out the shoe, she flexed her foot, raising her heel up into the air, the line of her leg impossibly shapely, a true work of art. I almost dove to the floor. “You like?” she asked. I could only shake my head yes. She smiled once more at me and told me to go pay for them.
When we got back to the apartment, Sabrina pointed down at her feet imperiously. I knelt once again to clean her new shoes for her with my tongue. “Good slave,” she said, smirking. “Now make us dinner.”
That night, after we ate our meal, I did the dishes and tidied up the kitchen, and then went into the living room, where Sabrina was watching television. “May I massage your feet for you?” I asked respectfully.
“You may,” she said. I took her feet and kneaded them one by one, rubbing and massaging them slavishly.
“Bend down, I can’t see the screen,” she said. I cowered lower and continued to rub Sabrina’s feet.
She raised her foot after a while and placed it heavily on my face. “What are you waiting for?” I began the day’s third session of foot worship. “Lick my feet,” Sabrina said. I obeyed her as she watched me adore her once again. There was no way she could help feeling power surge through her as she watched me humiliate myself according to her command. She was occasionally outwardly dominant when the mood struck her, and that night she was in one of her moods. She reached over and slapped me across the face. “You call that licking? Don’t make me get the whip.” She did have a whip upstairs, but she had only used it on me on a couple of occasions.
I frantically licked her perfect size sixes, my entire being dwarfed by the foot in my face, my eyes feasting on the slender toes and ball of the foot that rested less than an inch away from my lips. Her feet were so powerful, yet mysteriously feminine and soft. It was natural that I should be worshiping at the altar of Sabrina, my one and true goddess. Her body was a temple I was denied access to, but I was allowed to sit at the gate and display my passionate fervor there. I was unworthy even of this, but if I could but worship her feet properly, then I could die a complete man. And I could never hope to worship them profusely enough.
At bedtime, Sabrina clicked off the television. Once again, I went into the bathroom to prepare for her nighttime routine, and then I turned down her bed cover. She sat on the edge of the bed, and the day ended as it had begun. I kissed each foot once, and then she swiveled them up under the covers. I shut off the light and lay down on my mattress on the floor.
“Good night, Steven.”
“Good night, my Goddess.”
—Mr. S.A., Sarasota, Florida
Bold, Sensual Beauty Takes Lingerie Lover to the Next Plateau of Cross-Dressing Joy
My interest in women’s lingerie began in college, when I managed to find a coed as horny as myself and finally got laid. The girl, Candy, lived in the same off-campus apartment building as I did. Candy was one of the best-looking women on campus, had a terrific body and loved sex. After we made it that first time, I was so proud of myself that I asked Candy if I could keep her panties as a memento of the fantastic evening we’d spent together. She told me I could have them on one condition. I had to try them on for her first. This was something I had never thought of doing, but trying on her underwear sounded like fun.
Standing there in front of the girl I’d just fucked, wearing her panties while she commented on how cute my cock and balls looked in her underwear, I began to get hard again. Candy—my dear, hot, always horny Candy—immediately dropped to her knees in front of me and gave me an incredible blowjob. She fondled me as she sucked me, rubbing her nylon underpants all over my cock and balls. It felt magnificent, and when I came in her mouth I knew I was hooked on wearing women’s panties.
Following my adventure with Candy, I thought constantly about how sensual and exciting the texture of her panties had felt on my body. I began sending for catalogs of women’s sexy lingerie, and soon I was ordering complete sets of the dainty undergarments through the mail. At first, I wore them only in the privacy of my apartment, but eventually I began wearing them to class. It was only a matter of time before I wore my new panties everywhere, a practice I’ve continued to this day.
Over the years, I’ve never tried to hide my love of women’s panties. Whenever I make love to a woman, I boldly reveal my beautiful underwear, proudly declaring how turned on it makes me to wear women’s panties. Happily, most of the women I’ve fucked have been understanding of my fetish, and a precious few delighted with it.
One woman in particular was intensely stimulated by seeing me in panties. Her name was Claudia, and she was gorgeous. When I first met Claudia I had just turned twenty-eight. She was thirty-five. A smoldering, dark-complected woman, Claudia was part German and part French. She had long, jet-black hair, high cheekbones, dark, almost black eyes and an exquisite body. She stood a shade under six feet and was extremely voluptuous, with a well-proportioned body, long legs and large breasts.
“Do you always wear women’s panties?” she asked me, as I disrobed for our first fuck. I told her yes, I did, explaining that I lov
ed the feel of the delicate fabric on my cock and balls.
“Have you tried stockings? With a garter belt? Or a crotchless teddy?” I told her that I hadn’t, although I had considered it. “Well, you’re going to tonight.” Claudia told me to take my panties off, which I did. From her dresser drawer, she selected a stunningly erotic teddy in deep purple, trimmed with matching lace. The crotch had a slit opening from which my cock protruded, the reddish-pink flesh contrasting nicely with the sexy purple of the teddy.
“Lovely, very lovely,” Claudia said. Kneeling in front of me, she sucked me hard, teasing me about how hot I was, then she led me to her king-size bed.
“Spread your arms and legs,” she said. I did as she instructed, allowing her to strap me into wrist and ankle restraints at each corner of the bed. When I was firmly bound, Claudia disrobed and mounted my erect cock, fucking me feverishly until I came. She cried out with pleasure as I spurted into her, then collapsed on top of me, her large breasts pressing against my chest.
I was still horny, and somehow I managed to retain my erection. Gradually, I began to push up into Claudia, letting her feel the full length of my cock.
“My God!” she gasped, raising her head off my shoulder. “You do love wearing my teddy, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I hissed, excitement coursing through me.
“Would you like me to fuck you?” she asked. Stunned, it took me a moment to comprehend what she’d suggested. While I pondered her question, she got off me and walked to her lingerie chest, opening the top drawer. I raised my head up off the mattress and watched her strap on a long, thick, artificial cock. She turned to me, smiled, and then lubricated the latex penis with K-Y jelly. As she walked back toward the bed, she began stroking her “cock.”
“I need to uncuff you for a moment,” she said. Moments later, I was on my stomach, once again restrained by the wrist and ankle cuffs. “There… much better,” Claudia said.
I felt the bed sag under her weight as she crawled up between my outstretched thighs. Her fingers began coating my anus with the cool lubricant, then a finger slid inside my asshole.
“How does that feel?” she cooed, kissing the nape of my neck, her naked breasts rubbing against my back.
“Wonderful.” I sighed, and I meant it.
“Wait until you feel this,” she said excitedly. “I think you’re going to enjoy getting fucked.”
She spread the cheeks of my ass as she positioned the tip of her “cock” against my anus. Then, ever so slowly, she began to push forward, stretching me, filling me with the artificial penis. I groaned in discomfort, but then pleasurable sensations took over and I began to moan with joy as Claudia fucked my ass.
“Are you turned on?” she whispered, her hips lunging forward, driving the dildo deep inside me.
“Yes!” I gasped, raising up slightly to give her even better access to my body. Claudia took advantage of my new position to reach beneath me and fondle my cock. Some of the K-Y jelly was still on her fingers, and it felt marvelous on my cock as she masturbated me.
“Oh God!” I cried out. “I’m going to come again!”
Claudia fucked me faster and faster, trying to match my rising excitement with her own impending orgasm.
“Play with yourself until you come,” she gasped. “Let’s come together.” She unfastened one of my hands, and I did as she asked. I could tell she was masturbating herself as she fucked me, and it was driving us both wild.
My body tensed, and I rubbed my cock faster, achieving another incredibly satisfying orgasm. Then Claudia lunged forward into me as she let out a wild, animalistic cry of unadulterated pleasure. Her body tensed for a moment, then she collapsed on top of me. After a moment or two, she moved back, allowing the dildo to pull out of my body with a soft “plop” sound. I sighed and immediately drifted off to sleep.
I awoke in a darkened room, with Claudia resting peacefully next to me. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I closed the door and turned on the light, looking at myself in the mirror. Still wearing the sexy purple teddy, I reached down and caressed my cock with the thin material. I knew that what I’d done constituted a new beginning for me. I would experiment with cross-dressing again, perhaps with Claudia, perhaps with another woman or by myself, but I knew these silken sensations would become an important part of my life.
—Mr. H.P., Phoenix, Arizona
Cute Coed Earns Straight A’s in Bondage 101
I was excited to start college both for the educational opportunities and the chance to have an active social life—and, hopefully, an active sex life, too. I was a virgin and hoping that the guys on campus would be hot and interested in a girl like me. I’m cute, but I don’t have long, straight blonde hair and big boobs like a lot of the girls who were popular in my high school. I discovered, though, that on a big campus, there’s someone for everyone—and I wound up learning a lot more than I’d bargained for.
I spent the first two weeks settling in with my roommates, getting familiar with my classes and new town, and enjoying being on my own. I looked through all the student group listings and discovered that in addition to things like a Spanish club and a hiking club, there was a BDSM club. I may have been a virgin in real life, but in my head, I was a wild woman in bed. I knew that my fantasies involved being tied up and spanked, and talking dirty, but I didn’t know how to attract like-minded men. I had a feeling that my standard uniform of jeans, a T-shirt, and cute sneakers wouldn’t lead most guys to look at me and think “kinky girl.”
The BDSM club was meeting that Friday, and I coaxed one of my roommates, Linda, into joining me, even though she sounded skeptical. “I promise, you don’t have to do anything. It’s not a sex party, just a club, and this time they’re going to be talking about bondage.”
“Okay,” she said, “but if it starts getting freaky, I’m out of there.”
She insisted I wear a little lip gloss and blush, and gave me a low-cut pink top to wear along with my darkest black jeans. She wore a skimpy white dress that showed off her tan and her long legs. Neither of us had any idea what to expect, but I was excited. Not only might there be a potential stud in attendance for me, but after all, this was what college life was about—trying new things.
The group was meeting off-campus, at a discreet location that had a side entrance. As we walked down the stairs, I heard what sounded like the crack of a whip. I was half-expecting to see people all dressed in leather, but when I entered, I found a group of twelve people around my age. They were chatting, and one of them was holding a whip in his hand, while a girl was dangling a set of padded purple cuffs from one wrist, but other than that, they looked like normal college students.
They all turned toward us. “Hi,” I said. “I’m Phoebe, and this is Linda. We’re new.” I had a feeling it was obvious that we were new, but everyone greeted us with warm smiles and we were offered cold sodas.
We each grabbed a Diet Coke and sat down. That night’s lecturer was named Mick, and he was going to show us how to use rope to tie someone up. “Any volunteers?” When nobody raised a hand, Linda nudged me. I looked at her, opening my eyes wide to indicate I wasn’t ready for that, but somehow she got my hand in the air, and before I knew it, I was the one volunteering to be tied up.
“Hi, Phoebe,” said Mick. He offered me the rope to touch and whispered in my ear. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I’ll be gentle… if you want me to be.”
I whispered back, my face flushing, “I’ve never done this before, but I think I’m game. I’m definitely curious.” I felt a spark igniting between us as I whispered in his ear, and I wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Maybe I’d get to find out.
“You can either keep your clothes on or get down to your underwear,” he said to me. “Which do you prefer?” Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, I figured. I stripped down to my underwear, grateful I was wearing a new pink-and-black matching set.
Nobody leered at me. People merely looked on as Mick iden
tified the spots on my body he was going to bind, and discussed how to test bindings to make sure they were tight enough but wouldn’t hurt the sub, as well as other tips. As I offered up my body to him, I felt turned on in a way I never had before. It was exciting, especially because he was paying such close attention to me. Soon my ankles were bound, my wrists were tied behind my back, and he’d wrapped an intricate rope harness around my chest. As he worked, he explained each step to the crowd, but I was so nervous that I barely understood a word he said.
Then he held one last piece of rope and said, “You can also, if you like, wrap the rope around her torso and thread it between a woman’s legs so that it will rub against her pussy.” I certainly hadn’t been hearing the word “pussy” in my classes at my old school! “Would you like me to do that, Phoebe?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Mick tipped my chin up to look at him, and I knew he wasn’t in pure teacher mode anymore, but that he wanted me. “Say it louder, Phoebe, or you won’t get what you want.”
“I’d like you to string the rope between my legs.” He kept looking at me, silently prompting me for more. “So that it presses against my pussy.” I almost whimpered when I said the last word aloud. In the short time I’d been bound with the rope, I’d found it hot. Every time I moved to see if I could escape my bonds and found that I couldn’t, I got even wetter. Being trapped somehow made me feel safe, because Mick seemed like he would take care of me. I trusted him to release me if I really wanted him to. Since my ankles were bound, he had to wedge the remaining rope between my legs, and his fingers grazed my pussy as he worked. I was pretty sure he knew how excited he was making me.
Letters to Penthouse XXXXII Page 21
