Delivering More Than Just Online Orders
Published early as a preview here in our chat forum on Saturday, September 2, 2023.

Official publication date for the main page of our site: Sunday, September 3, 2023.

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Even though he has a foot fetish, my husband stopped playing with my feet a few years ago. When I asked him why, he told me that he got too embarrassed about having one. I find that to be kind of silly, though, especially since we've been married for over twenty years now, and I've always fully embraced his foot fetish. It was one of the advantages of getting married to him.

He used to give me foot massages all the time, and he used to suck my beautifully pedicured toes all the time, too. I figured that over time he'd stop being embarrassed about having a foot fetish, but so far, that hasn't happened. For whatever reasons, he's more embarrassed than ever before. That embarrassment only seems to manifest itself with me, other people who already know that he as a foot fetish. With new people, however, he's mostly without embarrassment.

Weirdly enough, I think that I more or less understand why there's that embarrassment. It has something to do with issues of intimacy.

Setting aside that apparent issue, and much to my delight, I recently learned that a delivery driver for a well known company has a foot fetish. I didn't learn about it right away. It was pure coincidence. That revelation came about after I had decided to tempt my husband by ordering a premium grade massage oil that's naturally honey flavored, and deliciously edible.

It was advertised to be so natural that you can eat it. The contents of the bottle are supposed to be infused with seductive natural honey flavor that imparts the delicious scent, and taste of honey, but without the stickiness. It's supposed to be a great blend for aromatherapy, safe for sensitive skin, and made with a premium blend of massage oils that are recommended by massage therapists to ease tension and soothe tired, and aching muscles.

According to the advertisement, a combination of a sweet almond oil, and coconut oil provide a non-greasy silky slip that glides easily into the skin, and leaves the skin soft and moisturized. It's advertised to be non-sticky, and non-greasy. It's also advertised to be a deliciously smooth blend that's perfect for a deep tissue sensual aromatherapy massage.

Used with a loved one, hint, hint, my husband, it's advertised to relax the body, mind, and spirit with delicious honey. A true sensory experience! And, it's 100% satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back. After that kind of advertisement, I was more than ready to see if the hype about the product was true. I just needed to get my husband interested in using it on me.

I had left special instructions for the delivery driver to deliver the package in person, so he rang the doorbell when he got to my house. I wanted him to wait until I opened the package so that I could confirm that there hadn't been any leakage. That's happened before with other liquid products, so I wanted to make sure.

Thanks to regular automated text updates, I already knew that the estimated delivery time of 8:00 p.m. had been pushed back. I didn't mind, though, because I was feeling especially relaxed after having taken a really long, and luxurious bath. To be quite candid about how I was feeling at that time, waiting for a delivery kind of made me fantasize about something naughty happening since my husband was once again away on a business trip, and I was home alone.

What I envisioned was right out of a sleazy romance novel. I thought about it when I was in my bath as I played with myself. My robe would fall away, the delivery man would be tempted beyond control, and he would carry me into the bedroom to be sexually ravished.

Whatever my fantasy was, I was snapped back to reality when I heard the doorbell ring. My package had arrived.

When I opened the door, I was happy to see the familiar face of the young man who usually delivered packages to my house. He's actually the one I envisioned in my naughty fantasy. As I often do, I addressed him by his name since I've known him for a while. As he routinely does, he greeted me with his usual great smile. Of course, he's known my name from the first time that he saw me since my name or my husband's name are identified on the packages that get delivered.

After I told him why I wanted him to wait until I opened the package, he told me that I was his last delivery for the day, and that it wouldn't be a problem. Then he apologized for running late. I told him that it was perfectly fine, and I offered him some iced tea as I had done numerous times before. He loves the way I make iced tea, so that made him happy.

After inviting him inside, I took him into the kitchen with me for the iced tea, and then I opened the package to confirm that there was no leakage. I told him that even though I had gotten the massage oil for myself, I had also gotten it to tempt my husband into giving me a foot massage with it.

"It happens to be edible," I giggled.

That's when his eyes lit up. I could tell that he was intrigued by edible massage oil.

"I hope that I can get married to a woman like you some day," he told me. "I'd be giving you foot massages all the time."

"You would, huh?" I said to him with a smile. Then without thinking, I suddenly asked him if he has a foot fetish.

He admitted that he does. Then he told me how hard it was for him to find women who will accept that about him.

"Oh come on," I replied. "A good looking guy like you? Who wouldn't want to get a foot massage from you?"

"Thanks for the compliment," he told me, "but some of the women I've met so far think the whole foot thing is kind of gross, or weird. And the ones who seem okay with it have been less than enthusiastic having me give them foot massages."

"I'd let you give me one," I told him. "And I'm married," I added with a flirtatious laugh.

"You'd let me give you a foot massage?" He asked.

"I sure wouldn't turn it down," I answered.

"But wouldn't your husband get upset?" He asked.

"I suppose he might," I answered. "But he hasn't paid attention to my feet for so long that I don't really care what he might think. Besides, it would only be a foot massage, right?"

"I don't know," he drawled. Then, with a bit of a laugh, he added. "I mean, you did say the massage oil is edible."

"It is," I confirmed. "Does that make you more inclined to give me a foot massage?" I asked.

"I'm already inclined to give you a foot massage," he answered. "Would you let me?"

"You already known that I wouldn't turn it down if you offered," I told him."

"Then I'm offering," he nervously laughed.

"And I'm saying okay," I replied. "You can use my new massage oil."

"Thanks!" He exclaimed. "I can't wait to see what it tastes like."

After handing him the massage oil, I pointed to the living room, and told him, "You can massage my feet on the couch."

"It'll be my pleasure," he replied.

After leading him into the living room, I kicked off my house slippers, and I loosened my robe to be more comfortable. I kept my robe closed, though, since I had nothing else on, and then I laid face down on the couch.

"Is face down okay?" I asked.

"More than okay," he answered. "I'm a sole man," he went on the say, "and yours are so perfectly wrinkled."

"Ah, a sole man," I acknowledged. "That's good to know. I'm glad you like mine."

"I love yours," he told me, "and your toes are incredible, too. They're perfectly shaped, and nicely pedicured."

"Thank you. Do you like the color?" I asked. "I had them done two days ago."

"That color looks great on you," he answered. "Candy apple red is my favorite. It's a classic color. Thank you for letting me do this."

"Thank you for doing it," I replied. "I am SO ready for this,"

"Me too," he said with excitement. "Now close your eyes, and relax. If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just let me know."

"Okay, my eyes are closed," I told him, "and I'm relaxed. My feet are all yours."

I had a feeling that he was going to suck my toes, which I looked forward to because it's such a pleasurable turn-on for me. He did get to doing just that, but not for quite a while. He actually took the time to give my feet a really great massage. It was thorough, deep, and wonderfully rejuvenating.

At some point during the massage, I told him how good he was at it. After a while he gently lifted up one of my legs, and started sucking my toes. I moaned aloud with approval, and I let him know that I was getting really turned on.

"Good to know," he replied after temporarily taking my toes out of his mouth. I was so happy when he went back to devouring my toes again. He really knew how to suck toes!

I don't know how I missed it at first, probably because I was in such a dream state of bliss, but I suddenly realized that he was fucking my soles. I wanted to move my feet in a scissoring fashion to help with the sole job that he was getting, but he had my ankles in such a firm grip that my feet were effectively immobilized.

Combined with my soles being fucked, I found the immobilization of my feet to be such an enormous turn-on that I started to climax uncontrollably. It was as if my pussy and clit were being stimulated at the same time. It was one orgasmic wave after another. I then realized that I was kind of getting myself off by instinctively struggling to resist his hold on my feet by gripping the arm of the couch with my clenched hands, and undulating what was essentially my naked body.

In effect, I was masturbating the couch, and he was masturbating the soles of my feet, all for our respective self pleasuring, and done in a symbiotic way that pleasured each other as well. It's no wonder that both of us climaxed so hard, and so uncontrollably.

Afterward, he asked where a bathroom was so that he could get a couple of towels to wipe ourselves clean. Well, to be more accurate, he wiped both of us clean, and quite sensuously I might add. I pretty much just laid there in bliss.

When he finished, he started sucking my toes again.

"You know," I told him, "I'm not going to ask you to stop. So when you've had enough, you'll have to stop on your own."

"I can't help myself," he happily said. "I mean, your feet are so wonderful, and so sexy. Not to put you on the spot," he added,  "or to put any pressure on you, because that's not my intention, but I hope you'll let me worship your feet again in the not too distant future."

"I'd like that," I told him, and I meant it. "We'll have to make that happen."

I no longer cared at all how many times my husband had to be away on business. I even wished that it would be more often.