by Ella Ford
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.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, unable to look away.
Ruth began to twirl her stockinged foot in a wide clockwise circle, pointing her toes and stretching the reinforced material of her pantyhose. It was strangely hypnotic, made all the more so by the fact that she had no idea what she was doing to me.
I stretched to get a better look, damning the faint light in the room, keen not to alert her to my interest.
Ruth shifted again, then slipped off her other shoe and kicked it to one side distractedly. Now both nylon covered feet were visible to me. She began to rub her soles together, producing a faint swish swish sound as her feet brushed against each other. She hooked her left foot around her right calf, and slowly stroked up and down, never once looking up from her bible.
The dance was maddeningly erotic, and I felt the first bloom of arousal rising in my midsection. Why had I never noticed Ruth before? I thought to myself as I looked up from her feet, studying her hunched body. She had a slender, classic waist with full hips and breasts. Her face was pretty, with delicate, pale skin, but she hid behind those ridiculous plate-like glasses that distorted her features and made her seem bug eyed. Now, with the ludicrous spectacles folded neatly on the desk beside her, I looked on her face properly. I gasped as I realized, for the first time, that my timid roommate had model looks! Large, blue, doe-eyes and a button nose; full, red lips that glistened and intrigued without a hint of makeup. All of which was complemented with sharp cheekbones and unblemished, youthful skin.
I found myself thinking sordid thoughts, and glanced down at her feet, drinking in the perfect curve of her arches, the delicate progression of her toes, each perfectly proportioned with pristine nails. I followed the line of her slender ankle to her toned calves, shaped by countless hours of door-to-door witnessing.
Oh god! I thought, I’m going to hell! I want to fuck a Christian till she blasphemes!
I sighed and sat back.
Too late, I realized that my laptop had slipped of my lap and was balancing on the edge of the bed.
“Oh shit!” I cried out, and lurched forward to grab the computer before it slid off onto the floor. I was a millisecond too late and felt my fingers brush against the edge of the screen as the laptop slipped off the side of the bed. As it fell, my headphone cable popped out of the side with a snap. The computer landed on its side with a clatter, but the screen stayed on.
Ruth began to turn around as silence descended on the room.
Suddenly, from my laptop a high pitched scream emerged, followed by a woman’s heightened voice. “OH FUCK YES, THAT’S IT! EAT MY PUSSY! EAT MY PUSSY HARDER!”
I leaped forward, slithering off the side of the bed and onto the floor, then I span around and slammed my hand down on the laptop lid, pushing it shut and ending the fevered cries of lesbian desire.
The room fell back into silence and Ruth stared at me, her mouth hanging open in obvious shock. I felt my face ignite with a burning flush. I tried to grin at her, to brush off, but I ended up looking goofy and weird.
“W-was that… p-porn?” she said, uttering the word ‘porn’ with a look of utter disgust on her face.
I considered denying it. “I… yes, yes it was porn,” I finally said, hanging my head down.
“It was two… two…” she could barely bring herself to say it.
“Women,” I finished for her. “Yes,” I admitted sheepishly.
Her face froze in a mask of pure disappointment and confusion. She looked close to tears. “You… you like… that?” she asked, her voice cracking.
I nodded mutely, unsure what to say. Frankly, I was amazed that she hadn’t heard about my reputation before now.
The room fell into an agonizing silence once again, the air thick with the tension between us. Ruth’s initial look of horror and revulsion softened slightly, giving way to a furrowed look of concentration. She looked away from me, gazing off into the distance, lost in an inner turmoil that I couldn’t imagine. I considered standing up, grabbing my laptop and heading off to a friend’s room for the night. I sensed that I was seconds away from an epic sermon about the sins of the flesh and the hellbound curse of sapphic desire. I braced myself, preparing for the self-righteous telling off that I was about to receive.
Two minutes passed but it seemed like a decade or more. Then, suddenly, Ruth’s head dropped and her shoulders slumped. She sighed, her strawberry blonde hair falling around her face.
“I want… I want to… see…” she breathed, barely audible despite the quiet of the room.
“What did you say?” I said.
She lifted her head and turned to me, then brushed her hands across her eyes, wiping away the tears that rolled down her cheeks. “I said,” she began, with more energy this time, “I want to see. I want to see what you were looking at.”
“I don’t think that’s…” I began.
“Please. It’s important,” she lifted her hand and interrupted me.
I nodded reluctantly and picked up my laptop, climbing up onto the bed and popping the lid. To my surprise, Ruth stood from the desk and scampered over to sit beside me, taking tiny, apprehensive steps on stockinged feet across the room. I’d never been this close to the girl before, and was struck by how clean she smelled, the wide-eyed innocence of Ivory soap.
“Are you sure you want to see this?” I asked her, giving her a final chance to back out.
She nodded nervously, gathering her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees as though waiting for me to begin telling a summer camp ghost story.
I glanced down at her nylon covered toes, screwed into tight balls on my bed, and instantly scolded myself for being so sex obsessed.
I nodded and sighed, feeling slightly shameful, as though asked by a scornful parent to produce the pack of smokes I was hiding. The laptop returned to life and the video reloaded - “Teen slut worships hot milf’s nylon feet” was the perplexingly descriptive title. The scene began and I bit at my lower lip, suddenly strangely paralysed. I didn’t want to turn the screen to Ruth, didn’t want to introduce this pious, innocent girl into my world. I wasn’t sure what her reaction would be, what she would think of me afterwards.
Insid
e the strange bubble of the pornographic video, the older brunette was leading the young blonde into a room by a long leather leash. The girl followed along with bowed head, then followed the older woman’s prompts to help her out of her jacket. I swallowed hard, then span the laptop around and placed it on the bed between us. Ruth gasped and leaned back against the wall, drawing her knees ever closer, but her eyes fell on the screen and she looked on with rapt fascination.
Was this the first time she’d seen two women together? I wondered.
The video progressed to the point where the blonde girl had freed the older woman’s feet from her heels and was haltingly lifting them to her painted lips. I looked up and watched Ruth’s expression, suddenly interested to see how she reacted to this first sinful contact. Ruth’s eyes widened as the brunette’s painted toenails disappeared between the blonde’s glistening lips. Her mouth fell open and she sighed, lifting a hand to her chest.
“Why is she…?” breathed Ruth, leaning her head to one side, unable to look away from the unfolding scene.
“Because it feels good,” I replied, satisfied at least that she hadn’t yet pulled out a crucifix and tried to exorcise my demons.
She turned her head to look at me. “But it’s wrong,” she said with the forceful certainty of the devout.
I smiled back at her. “Why?”
She looked surprised. “Because… because the Pastor said it was wrong. It’s a sin.”
“It’s a sin to feel good?”
“I… yes… if…” she stammered, then looked back to the screen. “Do you… have you…?”
“Have I done this?” I interrupted. “Yes, many times,” I said distantly, following along with the action on the screen before us. The blonde girl was licking the older woman’s soles, drenching her pantyhose with her saliva. She seemed utterly mesmerized by her task, lost in a world that Ruth was only just beginning to comprehend, but which I knew only too well. The older woman moaned enthusiastically.
I decided to take a chance. “If you like,” I breathed, reaching over and touching my hand to Ruth’s knee, “I can show you how it feels.”
It was an enormous gamble, one that could have backfired badly. Ruth looked at me, confused at first, but eventually, understanding softened her pretty face.
“I-I couldn’t,” she stammered, shaking her head, her forehead furrowed in concentration.
I traced my finger down from her knee and over her shin. She flinched at my touch, but didn’t try to pull away. Her eyes followed along with the action on the screen, mouth hanging open, breath coming in short sharp gasps.
“Stretch out your legs honey,” I said, with a vague hint of command in my voice. I sensed that she wanted it, sensed that she was fighting an internal struggle, a war between her desires and her conditioning. To my surprise, she moved her body. Her arms loosened and fell to her sides, then one by one, her legs stretched out before her.
I smiled warmly at her and shifted around until my back was against the wall beside her, then I patted my thighs. “Put your feet here,” I purred, feeling a familiar warmth building in my stomach.
Ruth lifted her feet and placed them in my lap, wiggling her toes. Then she leaned back into the corner and stared at me with an unmatched intensity, eager to know what I was going to do next.
“Are you sure this is… okay?” she said.
I nodded, and reached down, placing my hands on her feet for the first time. She was trembling, tiny shivers running along the length of her legs. I stroked my hand up her shin to her knee and the hem of her long skirt. She sighed and inhaled sharply.
“Does that feel good?” I asked.
She nodded reluctantly.
I returned my hands to her feet and gazed at them. Her pantyhose were practical rather than sensual, with a thick black reinforced section that all but obscured her toes. I followed the line of her arch with my fingertip, a perfect curve wrapped in soft, warm nylon. She shuddered at my touch and flapped her feet back and forth. I looked up at her, realizing that she was ticklish. “Sorry,” I said with a smirk. She smiled back.
Feeling bold now, I began to run my hands over her feet, enveloping them in my grip, sliding my hands from her heels to her toes.
“Oh lord,” she breathed, “that feels so good.” There was a hint of guilt and surprise in her voice, and I wondered how this forbidden interaction was conflicting with her deeply held beliefs.
But any consideration for her medieval superstitions was a distant concern at best as I fell into my own familiar mindset, a focused desire and a gnawing hunger that needed satisfaction. I felt myself becoming entranced by her feet, unable to look away from them. The universe fell away around us, collapsing down to that blossoming moment of intimacy between myself and the innocent, awkward girl that I held. With an expert touch I tugged at her toes, tweaking each one, while stroking the tops of her dainty feet. I mixed light caresses with gentle squeezing, pressing my thumbs into her soles.
I glanced up at Ruth and found her lost in her own world, pushing back into the corner of the room, arm outstretched, gripping the head of the bed. She looked terrified and captivated, every instinct telling her to turn and flee, thoughts of damnation and social ostracization undoubtedly flooding her mind. But she made no attempt to leave, made no attempt to pull away from my increasingly intimate touch. As I watched, her lower lip curled inwards and she bit down on it lightly, brow furrowing in concentration. Then her eyes flicked to the right, down to the laptop still lying on the bed.
I followed her gaze and found the young blonde in the video still kissing the older woman’s pantyhose. The brunette’s toes were drenched now, glistening with the girl’s saliva. I looked away from the video and met Ruth’s stare. An unspoken communication flashed between us, a permission of sorts, as Ruth nodded urgently towards me.
I sensed her desire and lifted her left foot up, holding it before my face. She sighed in hungry anticipation, but I wasn’t going to give her what she wanted just yet. I studied her sole, seeing her foot properly for the first time. Her toes flexed back and forth, impatiently demanding my attention. I ran my fingers slowly down the length of her arch, tracing the complex maze of wrinkled skin beneath the soft pantyhose. She sighed again, this time less demanding, more pleading.
I leaned forwards and pressed my face against her foot, breathing deeply, eyes squeezed tightly shut. I took her into myself, filled my nose and throat with her scent, a rich aroma of sweat, soap and shoe leather. Then I slowly slid my tongue from her heel to the tip of her toes, savoring every precious flavor and her reaction to my attention.
She tried to pull away at first, a half-hearted attempt at resistance, the final, failing will of her conditioning. But as my tongue made its way along the length of her sole, her reluctance slowly ebbed away, replaced by capitulation and desire. I kissed her then, planting hot pecks on her burning flesh, slowly wrapping my lips around her toes, sucking her into me.
She gazed up at me as I kneeled before her, devouring her feet. Her eyes were glassy and trancelike, a hypnotic stupor fed by the new feelings that raged inside her. I felt myself responding to her sensual capitulation, a familiar warmth growing in my pussy. I felt slick down there, hot with desire and aching from the possibilities that lay before me. I allowed that heat to radiate outwards, embraced the sensation as it lit wildfires in my entire body.
“Oh Rebecca,” purred Ruth, her voice deep and low, a tone I’d never heard her use before. I suspect neither had she. “Your tongue feels so good!” she exclaimed, expressing her surprise.
I nodded and smiled at her, then playfully bit down on her toes. She squealed and flinched, almost pulling away from me, then grinned impishly and grabbed the bedding in clenched fists.
I continued my exploration, testing her with every action, introducing her to new sensations and new feelings.
“Do you like it?” I asked her coquettishly, resting her foot on my shoulder and stroking my fingers down the length of her leg to her
inner thighs. She nodded urgently, seemingly unconcerned that her modest skirt was gathering around her waist, revealing more of herself than anyone had probably ever seen.
I teased my fingers further down, revealing ever more of her slender pantyhose covered thighs. I felt a touch on my lap and looked down to find her other foot stroking against my leg. She grinned at me again, a look that I interpreted as a questioning appeal for validation: “Can I do this? Should I be doing this? Is it wrong?”
I smiled back, trying to conceal the burning hunger that I felt, but failing spectacularly. This was no longer a seduction, it was a mutual quest for pleasure and fulfillment. Ruth and I were equals in our desire, both striving for satisfaction in our own ways.
I glanced back at the video on the laptop and Ruth’s eyes followed mine. The blonde’s head was buried between the legs of the brunette, lost in the depths of her sex. The brunette’s hands were gripping the younger woman’s hair, riding her face. The brunette’s head was thrown back in an expression of utter ecstasy.
Ruth and I looked at each other, our bodies and intents seemingly locked in a sapphic synchronization.
I flashed her another unspoken signal: Do you want me to do that?
A look of fear gripped her face, a spike of uncertainty. I feared that I had overstepped the mark, pushed her too far, but I was slave to my instincts now and desperately wanted to taste this perplexing girl’s pussy. At once, Ruth’s face softened. Whatever internal skirmish she was fighting found itself a victor. She glanced up at me and slowly, hesitantly, nodded her consent.
I felt a rush of relief and desire wash over me, rekindling the fire in my pussy. I turned to my left and kissed her foot passionately. Then I turned my attention to the prone, trembling girl beneath me. With tender care, I set her leg down on the bed, then sat up on my knees. I reached down and gripped my PJ shirt and slid it over my head, shuddering as the soft satin brushed over my hardened nipples. I cast aside the garment, studying Ruth’s face as she gazed at my breasts. She seemed captivated again, mesmerized by the novel situation she found herself in.
