Karen's Feet
Published on Saturday, July 29, 2006
This story was submitted anonymously.

Feel free to submit your comments about this story in our free foot fetish chat forum.
To do this, just click here for the story section topic to make your comments public.

I have been in a committed relationship for some time. I've been browing these stories, and wanted to
share something that happened to me about 10 years ago.

I used to be in social work, but I burned out. However, at that time, I used to work with abused kids. Most of the staff were old and unattractive, so I never expected a foot sighting, nor was it even on my radar. That is, until Karen arrived.

Karen was a beautiful college girl who decided to apply for a job in the same cottage that I worked in. I worked the afternoon shift, which started at 3, so when I arrived, she was already there (her "shift" started at noon). The first thing I noticed about her was the fact that she took her shoes off. She was wearing sneakers and white socks, and was walking around in her socked feet. We introduced ourselves to each other, and I found out that she wanted to work there. Needless to say, I was all for it. We worked the shift together, and she was good with kids, but all I could concentrate on was her socked feet. She was a big time toe wiggler, and whenever seated, she'd put her feet up on a chair, and flex her feet. I was mesmorized, as her feet looked like they were scrumptious under her socks, and she was beautiful to boot.

She got hired and worked many shifts. She hated shoes, or so she said, but she ALWAYS wore sneakers with socks to work. So, as nice as it was to always see her shoeless, she was always wearing socks. I was a closet foot fetishist, so I never said anything, but my imagination was running wild.

My shift was normally 3-11, and finally one night when we worked together, I heard the magic words, "My feet are killing me."

She had a boyfriend, and I actually had a girlfriend, but I had tunnel vision for her feet. I told her that I could give her a massage. She gratefully put her socked feet in my lap (as the kids were all in bed), and I rubbed every inch of those socked, wiggling feet. She moaned with pleasure, and told me how much she loved foot massages, and how her boyfriend did not touch them. I let her keep her socks on,  and finished up, trying to act like it was no big deal.

This continued every time that we worked 3-11 together. Finally, one night as I was rubbing her toes, I told her that it would feel much better with her socks off. She looked hesitant, but shrugged her shoulders, and told me that she hadn't had a pedicure in a while. I told her that it did not matter, and that it would feel that much better. She relented, so I slipped off her socks.

Her feet were as good as I imagined. They were so smooth, and she had on purple fading toenail polish. I made sure to rub harder, and in between her toes, which left her making noises as if she were reaching orgasm. As 11 o'clock came rolling around, she asked me to put her socks back on. However, she told me that it was a lot better.

One week later, she actually came to work in sandals. And I could see her toes... they were a deep red. As soon as the kids were in bed, she kicked off her shoes and said, "No socks tonight," and I rubbed her feet like there was no tomorrow.

I wish this story was better, and I could tell you that there were footjobs and everything, but it pretty much ends here. She got another job, and I ceased to see her again. However, I will always remember Karen's feet!