A
Foot Voyeur - Masseur
Enjoyed My Wife's Feet
Published on
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
This story was submitted by Phil Gill.
To read Phil's 1st
story, go to My Wife's Feet Arouses Her Stepfather.
My wife Michelle is a yoga teacher, and after one of her classes a
pupil asked her if she would consider trading her class for a massage.
She had never had a man massage her before, so was nervous about it.
However, he kind of put her on the spot and she knew of his
qualifications because he practiced in the same facility.
"Gee I guess so," said my wife, a well-preserved blond haired woman in
her 40s who looked 10 years younger because of her health and bone
structure. "But really I only need my legs and feet worked on."
Her thinking was that because he was a male, she wouldn't be
comfortable with him having complete access to her 5'4" 130 pound
athletic body, complete with large breasts and bubble butt.
"Oh, that works perfectly," he said. "My name is Ed Woodley by the way.
I have seen you around here but I had never taken your class before. I
am really glad I did."
"Michelle," she said.
"I really enjoyed your yoga class. It was really good, and you have a
nice way of communicating the benefits to people of all ages."
"Thank you, Ed," Michelle smiled. "Glad you enjoyed it. Hopefully you
will come back for more. I noticed you ended up with a good spot near
the front."
"I definitely will," he said, "and yes, I moved up front when a space
became available. Do you mind me asking what size your feet are? They
look barbie doll sized."
"Size six," Michelle said. "Why?"
"Oh, I just need to know to prepare for your massage," he answered. "I
thought they were pretty - ah small - from what I could see in the yoga
class. What day works for you?"
"Probably Friday morning, does that work?"
"Can you come early?," he asked. "I can be there at 8:00 am, if you
can."
"That works," Michelle said. "It's a date."
"By the way, I meant to ask you if you would consider me videoing the
session for my foot massage students. I teach reflexology and foot
massage too."
Michelle knew several people at the healing studio who sold videos, so
it didn't seem at all out of the ordinary.
"Why me?," she asked.
"Not sure if you have ever been told this before but you have perfectly
shaped and sized feet, and I need to make sure my videos are adorned
with women who have exceptional body parts, depending on which type of
video I plan to sell. You would not believe some of the women's feet I
see in this job. Yours are small and delicate looking."
"Thank you, kind sir," she joked, blushing.
"So you have been told that before?," he probed.
"Ah… not really. No," my wife lied. I have told her a thousand times,
if I told her once, how gorgeous her feet are. But she is also used to
covering up my fetish. My friends have noticed too, even non-foot guys
have been caught starring at her feet. Even shopping, she has been
singled out in a mall a few times by guys who wanted to "buy their
wives her exact same shoes."
"Is there anything I need to do before the video?," Michelle asked.
"Well," Ed said. "Do you mind letting me have a look at your feet close
up?"
"Okay, sure, I suppose," my wife said shyly.
Ed bent down on his right knee, and patted the top of his left knee
directing Michelle to set her foot on it. She hesitated, and without
even looking up Ed pointed to his knee in an exaggerated way. Michelle
slipped her foot out of her right flip flop and lifted her toes to his
knee. Ed, gently, touched the back of her heel and guided her foot so
that the entire lovely rested on his knee and thigh.
My wife had black polish on her alabaster white feet, freshly pedicured
professionally with a tiny silver star and moon bedazzled onto her big
toes. She was going to put the sparkles on every toe, but the sparkles
were too large to fit on her tiny toenails.
"Love the little jewels on your toes," Ed said, gliding his fingers
across my wife's toes. "Your polish is just perfect right now, when did
you get your pedi?"
"Just yesterday," Michelle answered. "I like to have my feet done
before my weekly class."
"Okay, no need for a new pedi. But can we move the appointment to
tomorrow morning instead of Friday? I don't want your polish to wear
before the video. I am probably going to have to use some dim light
filtering because of the shiny dark polish against your snow white
feet. But that's not a problem. By the way your feet are more
proportional than what I even imagined. Perfect for my video."
Using both hands now, Ed's fingers cruised slowly around both sides of
her feet, thumbs sliding across the top. Michelle noticed the size they
were, but also that they were quite thick yet soft for man-hands.
When he got to her heel, he clutched her ankle lightly with his left
hand and ushered it upward as he slipped his free hand beneath her thin
dainty heel and slid it along her small soft sole. He paused at her
arch and took a couple of circular feels with his fingertips before
gliding his hand down past her under-toes and then on top of them with
his thumb… pausing for a moment.
"Thank you again," Michelle said. "Yes I should be able to come in the
morning."
"Tonight, soak your feet and then smother them in vaseline okay?," Ed
asked. "Then wrap them in a plastic bag and find two large pairs of
winter socks to wear to bed over top of them. You probably do that on
occasion anyway, judging by how soft and smooth your little feet are."
"Sure I can do that," said my wife. "And yes I have."
"Great, see you in the morning," said Ed, patting the top of my wife's
foot as if to say you are now free to go.
When Michelle told me about this unusual agreement after she got home
from work, my dick was completely hard thinking about her perfect feet
being touched by some stranger.
"How old is this guy?," I asked jealously.
"He's probably 25," Michelle answered. "Don't worry he's not much to
look at. He's probably about 6'3" tall but only about 150 pounds. Very
skinny, and not very muscular at all. He's got glasses and a big nose,
and balding though he shaves his head. You know, the typical granola
type."
Still rather horny about the incident and upcoming foot and leg
massage, during supper and thereafter I could not stop these scenes
from going through my head. Eventually I had to go into the bathroom
and relieve myself of my build-up of goo, while in the living room
Michelle's perfect feet were being soaked and prepared to the liking of
this other man, if you can believe.
While stroking my dick, I was thinking of her perfect toes. Her second
toes are just slightly shorter than her bedazzled big toes, and then
each of her final three toes slope down at a perfect, but very minor
angle, so that all five of her painted nails are exactly in-line with
each other. You could run a ruler down them and not find one toe out of
align even a little, in this descending angle. In fact, once I did just
that, measuring her toes at less than two inches long; her feet 7 3/4
inches from toe tips to heel; and a width of roughly 3 inches at the
balls of her feet.
That made me stroke faster, my dick now long and hard as I thought of
her wonderful round toe tips. I imagined I was looking up close at the
instep side of her foot and tracing her high arch which I could slide
my fingertips beneath. I imagined looking at her big toe from the side
and could visualize her toe tipping up just a little on the end, which
was ridiculously cute.
I had to slow down yanking on my manhood now, as I pictured her sexy
soft heels in my mind, fitting generously into the palms of my hands as
I fondled all around them with my thumbs. I came closer to coming when
thinking about there being no rough spots and how small they felt. I
flipped her feet over now in my imagination, looking at her sexy soles
made perfect by the high arch and the insignificant angle of descent of
the little-bitty toes.
I've noticed toes which angle too greatly, not only ruin the look of
the toes but also the shape of the soles are affected negatively.
I loved how her toes were exactly the right width for her petite feet,
with no gaps between them. I imagined her toe pads, and round toe tips.
I could see her mini toe-stems in a perfectly straight line proudly
holding up the little toes pads above the flawless balls of her feet.
They looked like they were dying for some tongue action, I thought.
After I was done imagining her adorable wrinkles crossing her feet from
side to side at a slight angle starting at her lovely arch, I could
feel my dick getting thicker as I envisioned the dozens of wrinkles pop
to life as I bend her foot so that her sexy little toes were now
pointed. I pictured placing my face into the "feet pussy" between both
of the arches of her soles.
Then I imagined this tall thin masseur handling her feet in the
morning. I felt a lump of jealousy and eroticism at once, thinking
about my wife's delicate feet being so tiny in his large man-hands. It
was truly beauty and the beast as he took his long fingers and slid
them between her toes and just as he was leaning over to kiss the tips
of my wife's toes, I came with a fury I hadn't felt in months. Gushes
of cum exploded out of my penis in a pulsing beat as the masseur
covered my wife's toes with his mouth, sucking in the taste and aroma
of lotion and bubble bath which matched in flavor to the visual
perfection of her tootsies. I was squeezing out the remaining fluids,
and still being jerked around by my firing muscles and nerve endings
throbbing in ecstasy, as I remembered the taste and feel of her lovely
little toes being covered in saliva inside my mouth. All five easily
fitting into my food hole. Me sucking off her toe ring and licking it
on the end of my tongue.
Later…
I was sitting on a side chair as my wife set her socked feet up on the
loveseat directly across from where she was sitting. The masseur was
sitting on the other side of the loveseat now right next to my wife's
gorgeous feet. Her socks were black and thin. You could see the shape
of her feet, her arch and the perfect angle of her toe tips from big to
small. The masseur noticed them too, and ran his fingers in an upward
motion across her socked soles. She flinched, and pulled back, but not
before he clutched the toes of the closest foot to him and
brought it toward his body. He took a long smell of her socked toes,
closing his eyes as he took in the scent, gently moving his head back
and forth. Then he set her foot down on his inner thigh, holding it in
place with one hand and reaching for the neck of the sock on her ankle.
He smiled as he pulled the sock down, exposed her ankle and then the
soft pink skin of her heel. He slid the sock down to the ball of her
foot so that her sexy arch was naked, and then he proceeded to tickle
her tiny tootsie. My wife flung her foot from one side to the other in
panic, grazing his crotch each and every time, as the remainder of the
sock flew off her toes, exposing the ebony nail polish, a sexy toe
ring, and that wonderfully bedazzled big toe.
That, my friends, is when I woke up.
I had slept-in a little, and Michelle was walking over to the bed to
give me a goodbye kiss. She was already dressed, and ready to go. My
gawd, her and her gorgeous feet were on their way to her appointment
with some strange man who has the right to touch her delicious feet.
After she left, I quickly got ready. I had been fighting off an urge
that I could no longer control. I was going to follow her to her
appointment, once I was ready.
I got to the healthy living center at 8:30 so the massage was already
half over. Only a few vehicles were in the parking lot and barely a
soul was in the building itself. That was good, as it allowed me time
to look for a masseur's name plaque on one of the doors, quietly and
secretly. As much as I tried, I couldn't find anyone doing massage.
Finally, at the end of one hallway there was an emergency exit to one
side, and a short passageway opposite the exit which featured a door
with the name "Edward Woodley, Massage Therapist." Beside the door were
two waiting room chairs. The door had a frosted window, but not the
full way up, just to about six feet high or roughly the top of my
forehead. Even standing on my tip-toes I couldn't see inside the room.
So I slid a chair over, and as silently as possible stood on it so that
I could peek inside the room.
My heart was beating quickly now, as I skulked through the clear upper
glass on the door. I just glimpsed in for a second the first time,
pulling back behind the security of the wood door frame while
reflecting on what I had witnessed.
Sure enough, Michelle was there. She was laying on her stomach on a
cushioned floor, not the massage table I had imagined. The masseur was
not as homely as I had been told, but he was very thin indeed and was
bespectacled with short thinning hair. A camera was to the left of the
two of them, light reflecting umbrellas all around. Michelle's feet
were closest to me, and Edward was to her right.
Braver now, and confident neither could see me from where I was leering
as long as I was careful, I leaned over to the clear glass once again.
My wife was wearing a black leotard which went down to about mid-calf.
Her feet were bare naked. Her hair in a short ponytail. The masseur was
in a t-shirt and black cotton sweat-pants.
Michelle's feet were fresh and very white and pink because of all the
soaking from the night before. Her left leg was now bent at the knee,
and the masseur had his hand on top of her toes to guide her foot
parallel to the floor. Her other leg was straight, though he still had
his hand on top of her heel for some reason.
He lifted her other foot up parallel to the floor also, and now both of
her feet were pressed together dangling before him. My heart was
pumping and my dick was gaining blood inside my pants.
Setting one hand gently on the small of my wife's back, he pushed down
on her feet until they were right above her butt and then straddled
between them with his knees on the floor, legs wide apart. He gently
pressured her feet down towards her fit little ass and then brought
them back up to his stomach. His hands were so large, and her feet tiny
enough, for them to mostly disappear under his palms. When he let her
feet relax, her ankles were pressed against his groin as he stretched
her feet back and forth from his belly to her sexy ass. As the
stretching exercise ended he lowered his face to her soles and inhaled
the beauty of both feet.
I reached down with one hand and began rubbing my yearning manhood
until it felt better.
He set down both of my wife's legs and then positioned himself on the
floor between her feet, with his legs in a v-shape on either side. I
could see the wrinkles on her feet well, as her toes pressed into the
floor.
He began massaging her ankles and calves, and as he did, her feet
giggled from side to side touching the inside of his thighs. Edward
slid forward farther now to reach the backs of her knees, all the while
my wife's toes were resting under his balls inside his sweatpants. I
could see her heels moving side to side as he rubbed Michelle's calves
and the soft insides of her knees.
He asked my wife to flip over next, getting up to reach for a warm
towel to keep her upper body warm; and also a sleeping mask to cover
her eyes from the light needed for the video work. He again slyly moved
down to her size 6s, her beautiful toes now facing him.
The masseur sat between her feet on his knees this time, glided his
fingers from her ankles to her toes over and over again on the tops of
both feet. Then he adjusted himself while lifting her left foot up
towards his lips. I thought he was going to kiss her under-toes but
instead he sat cross-legged and rested her foot on his lap. With her
foot hovering just above his manhood, I could tell he had a hard-on
under those sweats. With one hand cupping her heel and the other
covering her jet-back toenails, he pulled her foot towards his body
while he rocked in a circular pattern while stretching her toes. He let
her heel glide across his hard, but hidden dick, time and again -
bending my wife's foot in a circular motion from the ankle. Gently,
melodically.
I licked my dry lips and tried to gather myself, while he was doing the
same with her other foot. When both feet were treated equally, he took
both feet in his hands and pulled them towards his chest. I could see
my wife sliding as her feet got closer and closer to him. The pads of
her toes would touch against his chest, and then he would release and
do it again and again. I could see him looking down at her toes the
entire time, enjoying his up close and personal view of my wife's feet.
Now he stood up still holding both feet, raising her feet up with him.
Her heels were the same height as his erect penis as he took both
ankles and swirled her feet around in a circle, grazing his sweatpants
every rotation.
Ed began sitting down again on one knee, stretching out her thighs one
by one by placing a foot into his lower stomach and then pushing
towards my wife while holding her other leg straight with his hand. He
gyrated back and forth, around and around with my wife's foot right
beside his hardened cock. Then he switched feet before guiding her
tootsies back, with legs straight again on the floor.
The masseur went down to her feet now and placed a hand behind each of
her outstretched calves. He guided her legs up until her knees were
bent, feet flat on the floor. Edward kneeled between her feet, resting
his butt against his own heels and I could clearly see my wife's toes
were right below his hanging, longing balls.
With her knees together, he guided her legs together to the side so
they they touched the floor. When this happened, her beautiful feet
turned from flat on the floor to instead being turned on top of each
other against his sack and cock inside his sweats. He rotated her legs
from one side to the other, secretly grinding his crotch into her feet
and adjusting his dick with his hand when he had the opportunity. Back
and forth he went, her toes pointing so as not to brush against his
manhood. But he would push her knees to the floor, bring them up and
then back down to the same side several times. Michelle would relax her
feet, and when she did he would turn her body all the way again and her
feet would flip together bushing his cock and arousing him even further.
I was enjoying the view, though I was jealous as hell I had never been
as aroused as seeing another man enjoy my wife's feet as much as I do.
Ed stood up again at this point and brought her feet straight up, heels
against his lower stomach. He walked them until my wife was getting a
good stretch with her feet parallel to the ceiling. Then he stepped a
few inches closer to her upper body, above her, each inch her feet slid
down a little toward his dick. Her ankles were between his legs now as
he moved closer to Michelle's covered eyes. He began swirling his whole
body while her feet moved and he inched forward even more. Her heels
were now against his dick, as the stretch continued for my wife and the
gyrating continued for the masseur.
He grabbed both of my wife's feet with one hand, cupping all ten toes,
and pulled them forward even farther, giving her legs a tremendous
stretch. Meanwhile he reached down and started pulling on his cock.
Then he backed up and lowered her feet, until her legs were angled from
her knees and her feet were pointed at him and presented before him
like a prize. He continued to yank on himself while sitting on his
knees before his trophies. Holding both feet together with his left
hand now, he circled his dick around the cotton sweatpants while his
face and lips came ever closer to my wife's toes before him. I could
see Ed's face circle just above her toes, while he sniffed in the
beauty of her feet. He kept stroking himself and opened his mouth, with
his tongue snaking its way toward her unsuspecting toes.
Just then he started jerking and twisting his body in contorted ways,
and I knew he came in his sweats while smelling my wife's feet. He
stood up now, and unsure of what he would do next I lowered myself from
the chair, put it back where it belonged, and quickly headed for my
vehicle.
I am not sure if my wife knew what was going on, but I am sure she
suspected something with her feet touching his sweatpants on many, many
occasions. However, when she got home she acted like it was just a
normal massage. This, though, was not the only adventure I had with
Edward Woodley, Massage Therapist. Nor would it be hers.
This story
was submitted by Phil Gill.
To read Phil's next story, go to An Interview with the Foot Freak.
You're encouraged to post
comments here in his topic of our chat forum.
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