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Hubby Phil and I were on the sofa with a glass of wine after work talking about our day, when the subject came up about what we would do for money; how far we would go sexually and for what price. Then the subject turned to what we had done in the past that would test our limits.
I had a lovely pair of high heels on from work still, which I had swung onto Phil’s lap with my back against the armrest of the couch. The heels were a size 7, which were a bit large for me but I just loved them so I bought them anyway. My little size 6 feet were encased in a black 10 denier hose. Thin and sexy nylon, they highlighted the contours of my legs, the arches of my feet, and of course my pretty toes painted royal purple. The high heels were black also, the straps cuffing around my ankles in almost a BDSM sort of way, with narrow criss crossing straps along the tops of my feet. Just one tiny little strap ran across the tops of my toes which allowed them to be presented beautifully at the end of the shoes.
Phil approved, and began stroking my feet with his hands, gently pushing his fingers between the high heel and arch of my right foot. Kissing and caressing my feet.
Looking up, Phil said, “I have nothing, I would sexually do a lot of stuff as a guy for the right amount of money but the opportunity never came about.”
It did for me, I said.
“Of course it did,” said Phil. “Your little feet again?”
Yup, I said and began telling him a story of how far I went as a broke college student. You see, I answered an advertisement by some Asian businessmen who were paying very good money to touch and fondle those same little feet my husband presently had in his large hands and was now pressing into his recently aroused lap.
Are you sure you won’t get mad when I tell you,? I asked Phil.
“Why was it that bad,?” he asked.
Well, it was before we met and I was in collage and needed the money, but I don’t want you thinking I am some kind of foot floozy, I said, knowing full well that the very idea of another man touching my feet turned Phil on with a combination of anger, jealousy and lust.
“Honey I understand that the average hot blooded heterosexual male is going to find your little feet very enticing,” he said, leaning in to kiss me along the tops of my pantyhose toes.
Okay, I said, and took another sip of wine before proceeding to tell my hubby about an advertisement I answered:
“Wanted: Pretty Feet Models. Japanese business tycoons in the country for work, require three ladies with the most beautiful feet for a contest in which they will be judged by experts and paid dearly. $500 cash to each lady, $1,000 to the winner, along with free pedicures, and limousine transportation to and from your home. This is 1 day only to the ladies with the prettiest feet. Try outs begin, to choose the three ladies, at the community centre downtown on Saturday.”
I thought I might have a change to compete so I went to the audition. The place was packed with women of all ages. There were three lines for the ladies according to shoe sizes; Size 7 and under, 8-10, and over size 10. Gladly most of the ladies were in the middle group so our line was actually rather small.
As my line slowly trickled to the front, there was a lady at the desk who took down names, addresses, phone numbers and shoe sizes – then whisked each woman to a room in the back.
When I entered the room there was a small booth with a chair and two rubber covered holes in a backboard above the short small desk. Someone was on the other side but I could only see their pant legs and shoes but I knew it was a man. Sitting down, there were instructions to strip down to my bare feet and slide them thorough both holes of the booth for inspection. Once my feet have entered the holes, I was to point and flex them but would be given further instructions.
Phil began fumbling at the clasp on my ankle straps, licking the sides of my pantyhose feet as I told gorukle escort him that I wore sneakers to the audition because I didn’t want to take the chance of marking or damaging my feet before the audition by wearing heels. His hands were shaky in anticipation as I continued the story.
I unlaced my sneakers and slid off my white cotton socks, tucking them into the tops of my running shoes. I pulled my knees up so that my feet were on the edge of the chair as it reclined. I looked down at my newly painted white toenails and brushed off some lint from the socks. Happy with how they looked, I leaned back and starred for a moment at the holes directly in front of me in the booth. Pointing the toes on my right foot, I gently kicked at the rubber hole first then slid my foot in a little, penetrating the rubber and feeling the air on my toes from the other side. I felt vulnerable and exposed and with second thoughts, moved my foot back just a little. But as I tried to remove my foot, I felt a man’s hand clasping my toes and pulling it back toward him through the hole.
“Now let’s have the other, miss, I am quite impressed, so far,” said the voice from the other side of the wall.
With the stranger having a firm grip on my right foot, I moved my left foot to the hole and peaked my toes through. The foot judge on the other side was ready for me and cupped my toes with his hand as soon as I had inserted them, pulling my little foot fully through to my ankles.
“Uh huh,” he said, as I heard him push his chair back and stand up for a closer look. His hands moved all around my feet, moving them into different directions as he inspected them. I could feel his breath on the soles of my feet, as his palms bent my toes and flexed my arches.
It was an unnerving feeling, having someone inspect and judge your appearance so closely, I thought, as he slid his fingers across my heels a few times testing for roughness. When he had me point my toes I could hear him counting the wrinkles on my soles.
“Look,” he said, “this is my conclusion. You will be a finalist. I find your toes to descend across at a perfectly straight angle. One after another. They line up next to one another precisely with no toe gaps and your toe tips are very round. I enjoyed your deep nail beds and the shape of the nails was perfection, though I did notice your paint had chipped just slightly on your third toe, right foot. But still a 10/10.”
“Your heels are smooth to the touch, I couldn’t detect one rough spot. So thin and feminine. 10/10.”
“Your arch is high but not too deep to destroy the shape and wrinkles of your soles, which I also found to be the perfect length to width ratio. Skin color alabaster, soles pretty in pink. 10/10.”
“You can go now, and I very much look forward to seeing you next week,” he said, still grasping my tiny feet firmly and running his fingers beneath and between my toes.
Can I have my feet back?, I asked.
“No you may not,” he joked, releasing my feet after first kissing all ten of my toe tips.
Ahhhhh, I gasped.
“Sounds like he wanted to make love to your feet right there,” said Phil, finally unfastening my ankle clasps and sliding my feet all the way out of the heels. He placed both of my stocking soles against his face and asked me to carry on with the story. “It’s is making me really horny,” he added.
Okay, I said, continuing.
A week later at 10 am, I was being picked up in a limo, just as the ad said. The driver asked to see my identification and then drove to a very high-end salon downtown for a complete pedicure. I met the two other ladies there too. One was quite a tall blond woman, the other an Asian woman roughly my height.
After a foot soak and scrub and then another, and then another, our toes were colored very specifically. Not our choices, but pre-arranged. The tall woman’s size 12 feet were long but nicely shaped – toes painted blue. The Asian bursa görükle escort lady with size 8 feet had her toes done pink, and the choice for mine was candy apple red.
After the pedicures, all three of us were taken to the dryers to make sure our toenails were set before being taken into the change rooms where we were to slide on taupe nude-toe pantyhose and cover them with thick white socks and a brand new pair of sneakers. From there, it was back into the limo, all three of us this time heading to the hotel where we would meet our clients and admirers.
We three got to know each other a little and shared our nervousness about the event which were were about to participate in.
Upon arrival at the hotel all three of us girls were brought up to a private meeting room on the top floor of the hotel. Inside the room was a circular, walled carousel in the middle of the room. It kind of looked like a large cake except a little different in that there were holes in the sides exactly like on the backboard at the auditions.
The carousel was about three feet off the ground, and maybe eight feet in diameter. Each girl was helped up to the top by a large male Asian attendant who made a step with his hands by interlocking his fingers. Each girl placed a foot in his palms one at a time and were elevated up to the carousel. From inside there were three pie shaped areas completely divided from each other where we were asked to lie down with each of us slipping our feet, shoes and legs through the holes. When our legs were completely through all the way to the knees, we could bend our legs and lay back on the top of the carousel. It was actually quite comfortable as they had soft beds, blankets and pillows for us. We couldn’t see each other so we raised our arms up and clasped each other’s hands for support one last time.
I could hear a commotion of men sitting below each of us girls’ legs on chairs which circled the carousel. I can’t tell you what those men did to the other girls but I can tell you what happened to me as each Asian had access to one leg attached to one foot.
“Oh my gawd honey, I am so horny please continue,” said Phil, pulling my pantyhose toes from his mouth just long enough to speak. “Edge me with your other foot while you continue.”
Edging Phil meant for me to just move slightly with my foot against his hard penis, and not continually. He loved to be teased and tormented by my little feet especially when I told him stories of other guys admiring them.
So, while torturing Phil by gradually moving my nylon toes against his throbbing dick, I continued telling him of the episode. I mentioned that the very first man to touch me in the carousel carefully rolled up my left pant leg to just above my knee and he began fondling my nylon knee and calf. It’s a weird feeling knowing some stranger who you can’t even see is playing with your leg, but I could sense the love by how much time he was taking with my leg as he guided my sneaker clad foot to his crotch on the seat below. As he kissed my pantyhose knee and rubbed his hands up and down my calf I could feel him gyrating slowly against my foot inside the running shoe.
As he continued enjoying himself, a larger man had begun untying the sneaker on my right foot. He glided his hands along the back of my shoe as the lace bows were pulled apart and loosened. My foot felt so tiny against his huge hands. He had no interest in my knee or calf but went straight for my foot, leaving the sneaker on after loosening its binds. I could feel his lips as he leaned in, kissing the tops of the shoe and slipping his fingers between the tongue of the sneaker and the soft white cotton sock. Then he manipulated the back of the shoe, squeezing it and popping it from my foot, his hand now cupping the socked heel of my foot in his palm.
With all this going on, the man on my left leg was removing my sneaker and sock. I could hear his excitement of viewing my nylon foot and candy apple red toenails for the first time. He caressed my sole and arch with his hands going back and fourth under my foot while kissing passionately at my toes. I could hear him pleasuring himself and I thought “cha-ching” more money, as he finished jerking off to my nylon foot. Part of the deal was that the men were allowed to consummate their love of my feet but it would cost them an extra $50 each time.
“Oh, my gawd,” said Phil. “How many guys came because of your feet that afternoon.”
A lot I told him. We were there for four hours. A lot of guys came to the carousel and most of them ejaculated one way or another looking at and touching my little feet. I could tell that the thought of men jacking off and playing with my feet got hubby hornier so he began jacking himself off while I finished the story.
Soon after, the large man on my right foot lifted my leg straight towards him. Sliding my sock off, he and began licking and kissing my hosed sole. “Precious… precious… precious… he kept saying while the other Japanese businessman placed my foot between his legs and began pressing it into his manhood. Soon I was giving two business tycoons footjobs at the same time and both came rather quickly and easily against my pantyhose encased feet.
After the first set left, or rotated, I really wasn’t sure, another male servant came around and washed my feet so they were clean every time for the next set of men who enjoyed themselves with them.
As the next two men began. The new guy on my left foot slipped my sock back on my foot surprisingly. He rubbed my socked foot against his face and then got on the floor directly beneath my foot and had me press my foot on his face while he jacked off. The new man on my right foot though did something unexpected. He rolled my right pant leg up to my hosed knee and pulled on the fabric, sticking a finger through the pantyhose in one spot and then he bit through the toe of my nylon foot. He placed his finger inside the knee hole and caressed my bare skin while pulling the hole larger and larger down my leg until he could slide my bare naked foot out of the nylon.
In the next set, the businessman on he left placed my hosed foot inside the fly hole of his shorts and it didn’t take long before I could feel his manhood pulsating against my tiny toes. That was the last time there was anything on my feet at all.
“Jezzus, baby. Oh, oh ohhhhhh.”
Phil grabbed some tissue from beside him on end-table and covered the head of his cock, his shaft pulsating with pleasure as he was nibbling on my nylon toes – finally biting through them, re-living a scene from the carousel. He came hard, his body jerking around in pleasure as he finished his orgasm.
“Ooops, I just couldn’t make it to the end of the story baby.”
I didn’t think you would, I told him. The rest? Well every type of foot man in the world seemed to enjoy my feet that day.
One man sucked all five toes into his mouth and slipped my toe ring off. Somehow he slid it back on my second toe where it came from with just his tongue.
Some men placed a bare naked sole right on their faces, rubbing back and forth. One man was so big that I could feel my toes touching his hair while my heel was in his mouth. Think about that, my feet aren’t very large but they must be close to eight inches long.
Several guys tickled my feet. Most would make their way down my soles with their fingers and then as I freaked and batted my foot uncontrollably they would kiss my sole where they had tortured it. Though none were allowed too get carried away, it was still the toughest part of the day.
I don’t know what else to tell you Phil.
“How much money did you make?,” he asked.
Hummmm. Well I got the $1,000 for prettiest feet as voted on by the participants. Then I got the free foot spa and pedicure, the limo ride there and back home, the sneakers, plus another $750 as 15 businessmen pleasured themselves to my feet that afternoon. So not too bad a day’s work, huh?
“Not bad at all,” smiled Phil. “Wish I had a story for you.”
No problem Philly. I have other adventures to tell you.