Shuffling nervously in your seat, you tapped your fingers against the lamp stand patiently as she nearly emptied the bottle whole.
“Sorry about that. Been needing to recharge for a while,” she breathed out, wiping her mouth.
“Yeah, no problem. Nice shoes, by the way,” you smiled, your eyes flicking towards her flip flops.
“Oh thank you. Yeah, they’re a bit worn,” she giggled, playfully dangling the flip flop until only two toes clung to the Y-strap.
“Well they still look good on you,” you countered, flashing her a grin.
"Yeah, they’re alright I guess,” she frowned slightly, before kicking the shoe off with one last flicking motion and fully stretching her bare foot.
You crossed your legs to hide your growing erection in light of her showcasing her bare foot in its full glory: her painted digits wiggling and stretching, her arch straightening out towards the table, etc etc.
"Hurts more to wear them, to be honest. Easy to slip on, but they’re a total bitch when it comes to supporting my arches,” she complained.
“I never would’ve noticed. You wear them so well.” Even though you were admittedly digging deep to compliment the worn footwear with a genuine cadence to your voice, it was worth it to get Charlotte to start talking about her feet more.
“Well I appreciate you admiring these shoes Ross, but I’d rather you compliment literally any other shoe in my closet. Definitely not these plastic torture devices.” And with that, she kicked off the other flip flop and then stretched out her tanned legs.
Then, almost as if she was aware of your foot fetish, lifted her legs up to the table and propped her bare feet across the glass surface with her soles pointing to you.
Nearly choking on the beer still in your mouth, you couldn’t help but stare at her delicate bottoms that were now staring back at you. Almost tempting you to fully savor their perfection.
Crossing her ankles, she reclined further into the sofa while noticing your eyes fixating on her bare feet relaxed on the table.
“Sorry if my feet stink, Ross. I really should’ve gotten a shower before inviting you in,” she smiled sheepishly, her apologetic tone seemingly implying that you were subtly gagging by her feminine odor, thus maintaining your cover.
“No no, I don’t mind. They look great, your feet I mean! And I really like your toenail polish!” you smiled, almost stuttering over your words as twin torches of crimson lit up your cheeks.
“Why thank you, kind sir! It’s so refreshing to have a guy compliment something besides just my tits and ass. I can’t even begin to tell you how many jocks at the gym only seem to notice me when I’m bending down in yoga class,” she giggled, playfully wiggling her perfectly pedicured toes in appreciation.
“I’m surprised more guys don’t notice it. You obviously spend a lot of time getting your feet pedicured and whatnot. Least I can do is compliment just how beautiful they are, you know,” you smiled adoringly.
This time, it was her turn to blush slightly .”You’re so sweet Ross! Yeah, I just got them done yesterday. Personally I love how well they contrast against my skin.”
“Doesn’t help that you have one sexy pair of tootsies,” you said to yourself, before smiling in affirmation.
Running her right foot up and down her left ankle as she self-massaged her blistered soles, your jeans were beginning to tent upwards as your erection only continued to grow.
“So what nail polish color did you use? I’ve been meaning to take Lizzie out to the salon to get her nails done, for her birthday coming up. Obviously it looks great on your toes, but I bet it would look….sexy on hers if you know what I mean,” you asked, becoming increasingly more confident and risque as Charlotte seemed completely at ease with the conversation centered around talking about her feet.
“Ross, aren’t you just a gentleman, paying for your girl’s pedicures like that? You’re making me jealous,” she laughed in a playful jeer, before taking another sip of her beer.
Scrunching her eyebrows as she pondered on your question for a few moments, she quickly turned back to you. ”Deborah Lippmann, and you’re looking for the Single Ladies bottle. A bit on the costly side, but it’s totally worth it.”
“Thanks.” Making a mental note to buy Lizzie that specific bottle of nail polish this weekend, you took another sip of the beverage while she took another swig of the beer. Your eyes remained glued to her tanned legs as she reflexively spread and stretched her toes outwards.
You were about to compliment her feet more when she reached for the bottle again then weighed its sudden lightness in her palm.
“Could you excuse me for a quick sec, Ross? I just need to hit the bathroom. Feel free to help yourself to the fridge, by the way,” she said, slowly sliding her feet off the table and getting up.
“Yeah sure, take your time,” you answered as she stretched her limbs once again.
Neglecting to wiggle back into her flip flops, she yawned before brushing past you. The sound of her bare feet padding against the marble floor quickly disappeared down the hallway.
Watching her rather curvaceous ass vanish around the corner, you turned back toward the den and let your eyes wander towards her discarded flip flops.
Pandora’s shoebox.
You were currently battling a raging erection that threatened to rip through your jeans at any moment, and sitting in an apartment where the only other occupant is the one girl your adolescent self fantasized with getting with more than Tora at the time. Said girl is currently in the bathroom, unlikely to reemerge for at least two or three minutes tops.
The footwear that she had slid her sexy feet into, a pair of worn flip flops, were currently on the floor and within inches of your immediate reach. Said shoes must be dripping with her sweat, and her odor must be stamped all over them.
Now you could do the right thing (well technically the right thing would’ve been not to sit down with Charlotte in the first place knowing your less-than-subtle attraction to her feet but whatever) and simply wait patiently until your very hospitable host exits the bathroom and can continue the conversation. You could pretend that these thoughts never entered your train of thought, and simply carry on where you left off.
Or, you could quickly get down on your hands and knees, risk the chance of Charlotte catching you in the act, and finally make your adolescent fantasies come true. You could finally smell her feet, or at least what her feet had been in. She could inevitably find out and tell Tora about you which would only lend more credence to her little ‘conspiracy theory’ about your foot fetish. Or you could not let yourself get carried away, do what you need to do, then pretend that nothing happened once she comes back in.
It was painfully obvious what the right decision was.
Without further hesitation, you dropped down to your hands and knees and crawled over to her flip flops. Then, with an almost crazed grin etched across your face you bent down and proceeded to rub your face against the footwear fabric.
Inhaling deeply, you shuddered as Charlotte’s feminine odor wafted into your nostrils and sent waves of euphoric pleasure rippling through your body. Rubbing your nose against the rubber insole, you barely held back an orgasmic moan as a mix of her womanly odor mixed in with the almost intoxicating aroma of years of sweat caked into the fabric nearly overwhelmed you.
Bringing one of the flip flips up to your nose, you sighed as you pressed the rubber “Y” against your nose, imagining all of the nights where her succulent toes had wrapped around the plastic and wishing that your now throbbing member had taken its place.
Feeling the moist rubber caress your facial features, you couldn’t help but grin as your adolescent fantasies finally became a reality. Sure, you could never put this all on Charlotte in person and worship her feet. Lizzie would never forgive you, and Tora would never let you live in down.
But this, worshiping her flip flops, was the next best thing. You get what you want, Charlotte never finds out, Tora can still go screw herself, and you get to use your sexual awakening for Lizzie’s benefit later on tonight.
Everyone wins.
Breathing in her unbelievably sexy and overpowering scent, you were in complete ecstasy as you planted almost loving kisses on the damp outlines of each individual toe indented into the rubber. Turning your attention to her second shoe, you could only imagine her sweaty soles pressed against the same fabric that you’re now inhaling. Feeling the wetness from the sweat that had accumulated in the rubber from years of her working out, you rested your mouth against her damp insole. Simply savoring this incredible, mind-blowing moment.
“I’m so going to hell for this!” you whispered into the shoe, knowing full well that you’ve crossed the line that you set for yourself stepping in here in the first time.
Taking a few more sniffs, you were almost lost in self-indulgence of your foot fetish. So much so that you nearly sounded out the toilet flushing in the bathroom.
Snapping out of your euphoric state, you frantically placed the flip flops back down on the ground and raced back to your seat as the sound of running water began to drown out the toilet flushing.
Planting yourself and striking a casual pose, you whipped out your phone as the door to the bathroom opened and Charlotte came out.
The sound of her bare feet slapping across the floor grew closer as you nearly emptied the beer bottle out of sheer exhilaration of finally fulfilling your deepest foot fetish fantasies.
“Sorry about that. Hopefully you didn’t get in too much trouble while I was gone, huh?” she joked playfully, practically collapsing into the sofa and propping her feet back up.
“You know me,” you grinned, happy that she remained oblivious to what you were really up to.
After hesitating for a few seconds, she bit her tongue before saying:
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