Under the feet of businesses

It was early in the morning and the sky was overcast. James sat in front of the window of his room. Several floors below, the first cars of the day moved slowly along the streets. When he looked up, he could see the other buildings stretching as far as the eye could see. He thought melancholically about better times, when there were houses with families and not these impersonal buildings that housed hundreds of people—structures that seemed to him like gigantic vertical coffins.

Standing behind him, on the bed, was Sara. Her skin had a delicious dark brown tone and her long wavy hair fell over the pillow. She was completely naked. Her thick breasts were fully exposed to his view, showing those large, fleshy black nipples that he had kissed with such passion the night before.

He watched her for a few moments. He thought she was truly attractive, despite what some of his acquaintances might say. Seeing her lying there asleep, displaying the glory of her voluptuous body, was a delight to the eyes. His penis began to harden little by little. He could not contain his urge: he pulled down his boxers and started masturbating while looking at those generous breasts. He did not take long to release a light ejaculation. When he released his fluid, he felt a relaxing shudder run through his nervous system, followed by a sudden contempt for the woman. He wished she would wake up and leave; he wanted to be alone.

But since she was still sleeping, he left the room. It was 7:00 a.m. in New York. Surely, back in Boston, his wife and children suspected nothing about his extramarital affairs.

He got into the shower, bathed quickly, and got dressed. While he was finishing getting ready, the woman with whom he had spent the night began to wake up. He told her he had to go out to attend to some business matters and that it was time for her to leave. Sara, with a smile, hugged him and kissed him on the lips. She dressed quickly and they both left the building together, each heading to their own destination. Most likely, they would never see each other again.

James had traveled to New York for business matters that, even to him, seemed boring. They kept him occupied all day. When night came, dark and lonely, he decided to enter a medium-sized but well-decorated hotel where he knew there was an elegant bar.

James was not a heavy drinker, but from time to time he liked to sit alone and have a few drinks, surrounded by strangers. He sat at the bar and ordered a Negroni.

While waiting for his drink to be served, James opened his phone and entered an internet forum dedicated to foot fetishism. That was, perhaps, his great secret passion.

The feet of the woman of color he had been with the night before were not beautiful, so his fetish had not manifested itself. In contrast, his wife—a pretty blonde—had beautiful feet. During the first years of marriage, he had sucked them with genuine fervor. However, over time she began to feel uncomfortable with that marked fetish. She allowed him to look at them, but forbade him from kissing or massaging them constantly. What had once been permissive, she now saw as a quirk, especially after having children. On one occasion she had even told him that he needed to grow up.

Of course, that comment did not make his fondness disappear; on the contrary, it made it more hidden and clandestine. And as you and I well know, dear reader, every limit invites transgression.

It had been so long since he had last kissed beautiful feet… The truth was that sleeping with prostitutes or seducing a stranger for a night of passion had already bored him. What he really desired was a refined lady with elegant feet whose toes he could suck with delight. That kind of feeling was what James could express with total freedom on that internet forum.

In addition, on the page enthusiasts posted photos of women’s feet that they themselves had discreetly photographed on the street, at the beach, or even at the study center when some careless woman let her sandal slip off. They also shared photos of celebrities’ feet and specialized pornography material on this fetish.

They served him the Negroni. It was not badly prepared, but he had tasted better ones. After taking the first sips, something special happened: at the bottom of the forum an link appeared that had not been there before. It was a section of advertisements.

When he entered, his heart began to beat intensely. James could not believe it: these were sexual advertisements specialized for foot fetishists.

He reviewed the ads, but none seemed attractive to him. Several gave him the impression of being scams. Some posts showed photos of fat and coarse feet that caused him enormous disgust. Being so sensitive to beautiful feet, ugly feet almost provoked repulsion in him. Not even ordinary feet attracted him.

He continued drinking his Negroni and then heard a voice behind him. It was a tall red-haired woman, dressed entirely in black with very tight clothing. She wore strappy sandals that left exposed long, slender feet with long, beautiful toes. They were truly prodigious feet. She was a refined, distinguished, and beautiful lady.

The woman sat down beside him, removed one of her sandals, and began to massage her foot slowly. She ordered a pisco sour from the waiter and, turning to James, said with a smile:

“Excuse me for massaging my feet here… It’s just that these shoes are killing me.”

“Go ahead, please, feel free,” said James, unable to avoid letting out a cold smile. “You have beautiful feet. How could I be bothered by a fine lady like you massaging her feet next to me? For me it is a real pleasure.”

She gave him a coquettish smile and said something that surprised James quite a bit:

“There are hardly any gentlemen left who know how to appreciate the true beauty of feet.”

She expressed that she had always been a great admirer of her own feet; she even liked to look at her sole in the mirror. Any compliment about her feet was more than welcome, especially if it came from such a handsome and elegant gentleman as him.

That was how Karen and James began a rather flirtatious conversation. It turned out that she was in the middle of a divorce. She had traveled to New York to attend a party that, in the end, had seemed quite boring to her. She had left early and decided to go down to the hotel for a drink before going to rest.

James introduced himself formally and they hit it off immediately. At first, the conversation was gallant and banal, but little by little both discovered that they shared the same passion for feet. The surprise was great for both of them. Karen, who had some knowledge of psychoanalysis, even mentioned Carl Jung’s theory of synchronicities.

There is no need to make the narration longer than necessary, dear reader. It is not necessary to detail how long they talked, how the possibility that James would go up to Karen’s room gradually emerged, nor the subtle hints she sent to awaken that desire in him. Nor is it necessary to describe how they went up together in the elevator and how they kissed passionately there, nor how, between direct and indirect hints, it became evident that that erotic encounter would have a strong foot fetish component.

Let us move all that forward, because what both you and I, dear reader, really want to know is what happened in that room… for our erotic delight.

They both entered the room and, just as had happened in the elevator, they kissed with unleashed passion. The transgression of knowing that both were married, added to the shared confession of their eroticism for feet, made the desire much more intense. They had finally found each other: a man who loved surrendering to the feet of a beautiful woman and a beautiful woman who loved being adored in that way.

She removed James’s jacket and shirt. As expected, he had an athletic and attractive body. Karen ran her long hands over his chest and abs, clearly enjoying being with a man who had a firm, well-formed torso.

He did not wait: he lowered the dress of that delicious woman, revealing a tall and slender body, extremely arousing. Her medium breasts crowned with pink nipples, her well-formed hips, a long abdomen, and slender legs that invited touch.

James laid her on the bed, removed her panties, and began to lick her vagina avidly. However, the cunnilingus was brief. He soon separated his mouth from between her legs to head straight for her feet. As soon as his lips touched Karen’s toes, she let out a deep moan and began to masturbate with intensity.

James also brought his hand to his own penis, but she, with a decisive movement, pushed his hand away and placed her other foot on his erect member. She began to masturbate him slowly with the soft, warm sole of her foot, while he sucked the toes of the other with devotion.

Karen’s vagina was soaked. Between increasingly loud gasps and moans, she ordered him in a broken voice:

“That’s it… suck me… suck them for me.”

She moved away from him, lay back comfortably on the bed, and slowly raised her legs. James perfectly understood what that gesture meant.

He positioned himself over her, gave her a long, deep kiss, and penetrated her with desire. He had a long and thick penis. As he entered her, Karen let out a long moan and murmured how good it felt.

Then she placed her feet on his shoulders. James penetrated her more deeply while grabbing one of her feet and beginning to suck it with devotion. While sucking those delicious long toes, they looked into each other’s eyes with intense lustful complicity.

There was something very powerful in sharing a secret that neither of them could ever tell: two married people who barely knew each other, locked in a hotel room to surrender to sex centered on the worship of feet. That clandestinity made everything much more delicious and forbidden.

She then placed the soles of her long feet on James’s face. He began to move in circles, intoxicated by the sensation. The soft, warm texture of the soles, the wrinkles that formed when pressed against his face, the faint natural scent, the toes that pressed lightly on his forehead… The slight feeling of suffocation turned into an intense and fresh pleasure.

At that moment James completely surrendered to the feet of that beautiful lady, renouncing self-control and any notion of ethics. He let himself be invaded without fear by pure pleasure.

Karen, between moans, began to whisper dirty words to him:

“That’s it, dog… suck my toes. Suck them for me. I want to be your whore.”

Those words deeply excited James, who concentrated especially on sucking the long, perfect big toe of Karen’s right foot. Her naked body writhed with pleasure on the bed.

It did not take long for him to feel he was about to come. He pulled his penis out of her and placed Karen’s feet underneath, just in time for his semen to fall abundantly on her toes and soles.

The encounter had lasted barely twenty minutes, but for both it was extremely satisfying.

When it ended, they said almost nothing. They dressed in silence. It was implicit that they would never see each other again. A silent promise that, however, would not be fulfilled: almost a year later they would have another encounter, much more intense and fetishistic. But neither of them knew it yet.

*

Two years of great economic success had passed for James. His businesses grew like never before, which produced a significant increase in his wealth. His marriage endured, his children moved to a school of higher social status and, if before he used to wear conventional suits, now he wore much more expensive ones. On one of his wrists he always wore a Rolex.

As part of his business duties, James was going to make an extraordinary sale to another large company. Everything was correctly prepared and the representatives of both boards met in the meeting room of the buying company. The meeting was scheduled for 6:00 PM on a gray afternoon. A light drizzle was falling and the cold could be felt in the air, as if the sky itself were wrapped in melancholy.

That morning, James had woken up with a strange emptiness in his chest, a premonition that reality was about to enter a period of decadence.

Together with his partners, he entered the spacious hall. There was a long oak table surrounded by elegant leather chairs. On the other side, the partners of the other company were already waiting. To his surprise, the owner and main representative was none other than Karen: the beautiful and distinguished redhead with whom, years before, he had lived a night of passion full of fetishism for her magnificent feet.

They both recognized each other instantly, although neither said a single word that would betray the erotic bond that had united them. They only exchanged small discreet gestures of greeting.

The negotiations developed in an impeccably professional manner. Both were satisfied and all those present agreed that this contract would be of enormous economic benefit for both companies. After the signatures, they shook hands. Then James asked Karen if they could stay for a moment to continue talking about the companies, though no longer about the contract. No one found it strange and everyone withdrew.

The meeting room was left empty, except for the two owners.

First they looked into each other’s eyes, as if removing the professional mask and letting the true desire emerge. With some hesitation, one approached the other and they gave each other a small kiss on the lips.

“Do you remember that night?” she asked in a low voice.

“Of course I do,” he replied.

Karen approached the door, locked it, and James smiled. He knew exactly what that meant.

They began to kiss passionately. James lifted her up, sat her on the edge of the table, and the first thing he did was remove her sandals and begin to suck her toes.

“How much I missed this sensation…” he murmured, while his tongue passed between her long, slender toes.

Karen moaned softly. She slipped her hand under her dress, pulled down her panties, and let them fall. James unbuttoned his pants. They looked into each other’s eyes for a second and he penetrated her. She hugged his shoulders and wrapped her legs around him. Holding her in the air, James began to move with force. His athletic body, forged in the gym, allowed him to hold her without effort. He moved her in the air for several minutes while she enjoyed it intensely.

Then, with delicacy, he lowered her to the floor and put her on all fours. He grabbed her firmly by the hips and penetrated her deeply, with intensity. Karen’s round and attractive buttocks bounced against his pelvis with every thrust, exciting him even more. She moved with passion, clearly eager for that reunion.

James began to sweat. He took off his shirt, jacket, and shoes, remaining completely naked. With skill, without pulling out of her, Karen unbuttoned the dress that opened from the front and let it fall.

He could not stand that position any longer. He pulled her out of doggy style and laid her on her back on the table. He wanted to see her breasts while he penetrated her. He thrust into her with force, watching how her breasts moved to the rhythm of his movements. Karen placed her soft, long feet on James’s face, rubbing the soles against his face.

“What a delight of feet…!” he gasped, while continuing to penetrate her.

She moaned louder and louder, excited to see how he submitted to her feet. James rubbed his face madly against the sole of her right foot, inhaling her scent. He could no longer contain himself and, with a deep grunt, shot his semen deep inside that delicious woman.

He fell exhausted beside her on the table. Both were breathing heavily. They spent a few minutes in which they only kissed in silence.

Then they dressed. Karen, with enormous coldness and without saying another word, put on her sandals. Before opening the door, she looked at him and said in a neutral voice:

“It has been a pleasure doing business with you.”

The sound of her footwear echoed in the room as she walked toward the door. She left without looking back and went away never to return.

*

Three years had passed since the second encounter with Karen. The business with that company had been fabulous. Thanks to them, James acquired a huge property and moved with his family to a much larger and more luxurious house. His children were already teenagers and would soon finish school. His wife, a beautiful blonde, felt deeply proud of her husband’s success.

On a sunny afternoon, James was sitting in the garden contemplating the landscape. He had designed a beautiful Japanese-style garden, for he had always been fascinated by the landscaping of other cultures. For him, the Japanese design was the most beautiful and relaxing of all; contemplating its minimalist and balanced forms gave him a deep peace.

His wife approached and sat down beside him.

“James, I have to acknowledge your success,” she said in a soft voice. “I also want to apologize. I think raising the children made me neglect you a little. But I have to tell you that I am very proud of what you have achieved.”

James smiled at her, pulled her toward him with a small hug, and gave her a brief, tender kiss on the lips. Then he turned his gaze back to the garden and continued contemplating it in silence.

After a few minutes, his wife removed her footwear and rested her feet on his legs, seeking an intimate caress.

“Wouldn’t you like to touch my feet?” she asked with a playful smile.

Through James’s mind flashed, like lightning, the images of those two intense encounters with Karen and her magnificent feet. He felt a brief knot in his stomach.

“No… I don’t feel like it right now,” he replied gently. “Better let’s sit together and contemplate how the leaves move with the blowing of the wind.”

She smiled, without insisting. She hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. Meanwhile, she lowered her feet from his legs. They remained like that, in silence, enjoying the afternoon.

It was a sunny and bright afternoon, but the truth was that James preferred gray afternoons.