My Fantasy About Michelle
Published on Saturday, August 26, 2006
This story was submitted anonymously.

Webmaster's note: This is a story about Michelle who has written stories for
us, and who has also submitted photos of her feet for everyone to enjoy.

Here are some sample photos of Michelle's sexy little feet:

As a guest of yours and Ed's, we were having dinner. Ed was sitting opposite me, and you were sitting next to him. We were making small talk, and drinking wine. I heard your shoe drop off your foot. You must have been dangling it, you know, the way you do.

I felt the chair to the right of me move slightly. You had put your feet up. I looked at you, and you gave me that look that seemed to say, "Aren't you gonna look at them Jim?"

I tried not to look at you, and and tried to concentrate on what Ed was saying. I looked out of the corner of my eye. You were fidgeting. I was dying to look down at your feet on the chair. We had finished the bottle, and Ed asked if I wanted some more wine.

I said, "Yes, please."

I knew your wine rack was in the kitchen, so I knew that he wouldn't be too long, but maybe if he was gone for a minute or two, I could just casually look at your feet on the chair. Ed excused himself, and made he's way to the kitchen. I looked at you, and with a wicked smile you looked me straight in the eye.
I looked down and saw two of the most gorgeous feet that I had ever seen. They were so tiny. Encased in light tan hose, your feet were crossed at the ankles. I could see all your little toes quite clearly. They were perfect in shape and size, and your nails were a shocking shade of pink.

You flexed your feet, first pointing your toes as you brought them towards you. Then you pointed them again. It showed of your high arch. I was mesmerised, God, I nearly came right there and then.

Ed returned, way too quick for my liking. We talked for a while, and had a little more wine. The phone rang, Ed answered it, and said that it was his cousin. You know, the one who can't leave Ed alone
when there's a family get-together. Anyway, he needed Ed's help. He was being flooded out, and Ed being the good guy that he is told him, "Of course I will help."

He went on to say that you weren't coming, and that you were in good company. "Jim is here," he told him. "The guy from London who I met at the last dinner party."

Ed said that he would probably stay the night, because it would be too late to drive home. He asked you if it was all right, and you told him that it would be fine. He turned to me and said, "Sorry Jim."

I told him it was okay.

Ed also told his cousin, "It looks like Michelle is ready for bed anyway. Wine always makes her sleepy."

You replied, "Yes, it won't be long."

Ed kissed you, shook my hand, and left.

Okay, now I was a lone with you, and your little treasures. I thought to myself, "How could I touch them? And if I did, how would you react? Were you just a tease?" How I longed to pick them up, put them in my lap, and run my fingers up and down those stocking soles.

"Jim. I've got to go up to bed now. I'm so tired. You don't mind do you?"

"Of course not," I said.

"Make yourself at home, watch the TV, have a drink, do whatever you want."

I felt so disappointed. I was being robbed. I wanted those feet!

You took your feet off the chair next to me, and lowered them to the floor. You were so tired, you couldn't be bothered to put your shoes on. You just left them there. You said goodnight, turned, and walked away. I watched your feet as you walked towards the stairs. They were so small. As you climbed the stairs, you were walking on your toes. I could see your arches. I have never seen such high arches. I wondered what it would feel like to have them wrapped around my manhood.

You reached the top of the stairs and disappeared from view.

I was left alone, and all I could think about were those feet. I would never have the opportunity to see, or touch them. I poured myself another drink, and moved from the table to the arm chair. I wondered how they would smell, and how they would feel in my hands. I looked over to the table, and tried to visualize them still on the chair, but it was no use. The image had faded. Then I saw your shoes under the table.

My heart skipped a beat. I made my way over to the table, bent down, and picked up your shoes. I took them over to the arm chair, and held the right one to my nose, and sniffed. The aroma wasn't strong, so you don't have smelly feet. I hate smelly feet. I looked inside, and I could see the imprints your toes had made. All your toes were perfectly straight. I had gotten such a hard on, which was surprising as I don't have a shoe fetish. "That's enough," I thought to myself. "I've got to stop this. This seems so perverted. If I go to bed, and go to sleep, I can forget about this."
 
As I headed upstairs to go to the bathroom to clean my teeth, I walked past your bedroom. The door was ajar, and your light was still on. I called out, "Goodnight, Michelle," but you didn't answer. You were under the covers, and you were laying on your stomach. I couldn't believe it. Your right foot was sticking out from under the covers. My breathing became a bit quicker. I began to feel excited, and afraid, because I knew what I was about to do was wrong, so wrong, but I had to do it!

I crept in, and knelt by the foot of your bed. I was only inches away from your exposed foot. I was shaking. "What if you woke up?" I thought to myself. "What would I say?"

But the moment got the better of me. I extended my index finger, and touched your heel to see if you were really sleeping. You didn't move. So I became a little bolder. I ran my finger ever so lightly from your heel to your toes, and you still didn't move. I bent my head forward, sniffed your toes, and then stuck out my tongue. I licked the tip of your big toe. It tasted slightly salty.

All the time I was listening for a change in your breathing, but you were out like a light. I took your toe in my mouth, and gently sucked it. As I took it out, it made a small popping sound, which nearly made me laugh. I carefully licked the backs of all of your remaining toes, and ran my fingers from your heel to your toes, tracing the outline of your arch. You moved your foot. I ducked down below your bed. Trembling, I raised my head to see if you had awaken, but you hadn't.

"Should I go, and be grateful for what I've had?" I thought, "Or should I stay?" I sat for a while just thinking, and then decided to stay.

I pulled the bed covers back to expose your left foot. I ran my fingers up and down that sole, putting my fingers between your toes. I lowered my head, and rested my cheek on your sole. I had gotten the biggest hard-on. My cock was straining, and needed to be unleashed. I lowered my pants and underwear, and it sprang up twitching, and jerking. I rested my cock on the sole of your foot. Your foot felt so smooth. I traced the outline of your arch with my cock, and pre-cum spilled out over your sole, which made it glide over much easier. I picked up your right foot, and moved it over to your left. More pre-cum had erupted. I rubbed it over your arches, and slid my manhood between them. I moved your feet up and down, trying not to make any sudden movements in case it awakened you.

I knew I couldn't last much longer, and I didn't want to stop, but all good things must cum to an end. And so it does, the end.
 
That was a story I did for Michelle. She suggested that I send it to the Great Feet site.