A Foot Fetish Seduction

Published early on our Previews page on Monday, April 15, 2024.

Official publication date for the main page of our site: Wednesday, April 17, 2024.

This story was submitted anonymously.

I've seen the iconic Hollywood Sign up close a few times over the years, but one time in particular stands out more than ever. It had nothing to do with the sign itself. That was fun to see up close again, but that paled in comparison to what happened when a man with a foot fetish seduced me into going to his house in the Hollywood Hills for a foot massage.

Mind you, I'm a happily married woman who's never played around, at least not without my husband. We used to be swingers, which I suppose is one of the reasons that I accepted this man's offer to give me a foot massage. The other reason is that my husband's always playfully told me that if I'm ever offered a foot massage, I should go for it. The thing is, when the foot massage was offered, I could tell from the sexual tension between us that I'd be getting much more than just a foot massage.

I picked on on his foot fetish the moment he spoke to me. I instinctively knew that he wanted to worship my feet.

"I love the flowers on your flip-flops," he told me. "They really compliment your perfectly pedicured toes."

Immediately flattered, I replied, "Thank you."

"I hope you don't mind me telling you that your feet are really pretty," he told me.

"Thank you," I replied again. "I take it that you have a foot fetish?"

"I do," he answered. "I hope you're okay with that."

"I like men who have a foot fetish," I told him. "My husband has one."

"Lucky guy," he replied.

"I like to think he is," I told him.

With a playful smile, he added, "If you weren't married, I'd offer to give you a really erotic, and sensual foot massage."

"Here?" I asked with a laugh. "And what do you mean by really erotic, and sensual?"

"It would be so erotic, and sensual that it would have to be done in private," he answered.

"That didn't really answer my question, but I think I know what you mean?" I teased.

"You do?" He asked.

"Let me guess," I replied. "Would it involve sucking my toes? Maybe getting a little naughty with my soles?"

"I would love to suck your toes," he answered with glee, "and I would love to worship your soles."

"If I were to say yes," I teased, "would you do this in my car or yours?"

"That wouldn't be private enough," he told me. "Besides, I live right there," he added while pointing to a house nearby. "We could go to my place."

"Did you walk here?" I asked.

"I walk here almost every day," he told me.

"So do you offer to to give women foot massages every day?" I asked with a laugh. "That's how my husband picked me up."

"It's been a long time since I offered any woman up here a foot massage," he answered. "I'm very particular about the kind of feet I like, and yours are perfect. That's why I had to try."

"I'm tempted to say yes," I told him, "but we just met, so I don't know if it's such a good idea."

Suddenly, he pulled out his California Driver License, and handed it to me.

"Take a picture of it," he told me, "and send it to yourself so that you have a record of it. I'm really okay. I mean, other than having a foot fetish, I'm a perfect gentleman."

Then he handed me his business card. I won't mention what his business is because I don't want to give away his identity. Letting you know that his house is in the Hollywood Hills is anonymous enough because there are a lot of houses that are close to the Hollywood sign. Having a foot fetish is one of the most popular fetishes there is, so quite a few people living in the Hollywood Hills surely have one.

"Having a foot fetish is perfectly normal," I told him, "and I guess you seem okay, so maybe I'll take you up on your offer. But I don't want to leave my car where it is on the street. Do you have space for me to park?"

"I have plenty of off street parking behind a security gate at my place," he assured me.

After we walked to my car, he got in the passenger seat, and he guided me to his house. I could tell that he was excited about worshiping my feet. I was excited about it, too, but his excitement was palpable, which was very flattering.

"Would you mind very much if I take a quick shower?" He asked. "I always get a little sweaty on my walks, so I like to take a shower after I get back."

"It's fine by me," I answered. "Would it be alright if I take a quick shower, too? I want my feet to be really clean."

"You don't need to take one for me," he told me, "but sure, feel free. You can use the shower in the guest bedroom at the end of the hallway," he added while pointing to it.

"Thanks," I replied. "Oh, and just out of curiosity," I wondered, "and there's no wrong answer because I'm okay either way, but do you prefer clean feet, or dirty feet?"

"I'm a clean feet kind of guy," he answered. "At the same time, with perfect feet like yours, I like the contrast of dirty feet. You know, like when a woman's feet are dirty, but her arches look clean. Does that make sense?"

"I get that," I answered. "I knew a guy like you who was exactly the same. He was a friend of my husband's who wanted to wash my feet after I walked barefoot outside on the pavement. My husband loved watching him clean my feet in our bathtub."

"Are you going to tell him about coming over to my place?" He asked.

"Maybe," I told him. "I haven't decided yet."

"I don't want to get you in trouble," he replied.

"You won't," I assured him. "I'm sure if I do tell him, he'll probably get off on it."

"That's good to know," he replied. "By the way, unless it makes you uncomfortable, there are a couple of robes in the bathroom that you can choose from if you want to put your clothes on later. You can put your clothes back on after your shower, of course, but if you put on a bathrobe instead, that could help to make your foot massage a lot more erotic."

"That's a naughty way of doing it," I giggled.

"Think of it as if you were at a massage parlor, and you were getting a full body massage," he told me.

"Are you offering me a full body massage?" I playfully asked.

"I'd love to give you one," he replied.

"Erotic and sensual, or just a regular massage?" I playfully asked.

"Erotic and sensual, of course," he answered with smile. "Would that be okay?"

"Do you have a massage table?" I asked.

"I do," he answered. "If that's what you prefer. I mean, it can be a lot more erotic and sensual to give you a massage on the bed, but I'm happy to give you one on the massage table instead."

Except in a professional setting, I knew from experience that whenever a man offered to give me a massage, it was their way of seducing me into having sex. With few exceptions, that's why I never accepted any offer of a massage without already being comfortable enough ahead of time about it getting sexual. Getting massaged is almost always a surefire way to seduce me into having sex.

"You don't need to bother setting up your massage table," I told him. "I'm fine getting massaged on the bed."

"Wonderful," he replied with a smile on his face. "I'm glad."

I took my time taking a shower because I wanted to be extra clean all over just in case things got sexual. Frankly, I was already feeling pretty horny, so I knew it wouldn't take much to seduce me into having sex. I had a sense that he realized this, too. I guess that's why I wasn't surprised when I walked into his bedroom after my shower to find a darkened room lit up by a bunch of scented candles.

"This is really nice," I told him.

"I'm glad you like it," he replied.

I was completely naked underneath the robe I was wearing, which made me feel extra sexy. I presumed that he was completely naked underneath his robe as well.

"Okay, face down right here, and I'll get started," he said to me while patting the middle of the bed.

I climbed up onto what seemed to be an oversized King bed. I had loosened my robe, and flailed it open so that when I laid face down in the middle of the bed, the robe covered my backside. Right away, he began to massage my feet, one by one, which felt incredible. He was really good at giving a foot massage. It was one of the best that I had ever gotten if not the best. He spent a lot of time massaging my feet before moving on to the back of my legs.

I was surprised that he didn't do any toe sucking, which I was looking forward to having done to me. He was giving me a massage; a real massage. Much to my delight, the toe sucking would come later.

I was also surprised that he didn't get sexual with me when he reached underneath my hips as he moved up along my body. He kind of brushed past my pussy and clit, but that was all. I was getting hornier by the moment, which was starting to get a little frustrating. Instead of massaging my ass, which I also hoped he would do, he began to massage my lower back after pulling the robe down from my back, and laying it over my ass. I had hoped that he would strip me completely naked, but he didn't. At least not then.

My frustration over not having the massage turn sexual was happily compensated with the incredibly thorough full body massage he was giving me. Even though it hadn't gotten sexual, which I hoped it soon would, it was still wonderfully erotic, and sensual. It quickly flashed in my mind that he knew exactly what he was doing, and that it'd only be a matter of time before I got the sexual relief that I was anticipating. Instinctively, I knew that he would get sexual with me, and I could hardly wait.

Moments later, he was at my feet to worship them. He gently, but firmly held both of my feet together so that he could suck each, and every one of my toes while I was still lying face down. He kissed, and licked my soles. Sometimes he put all of my toes into his mouth, and sucked them while he held my feet together on top of one another. All of it felt incredible!

The next thing I knew, a blindfold was placed over my eyes while I was still lying face down.

"I'd like to turn you over onto your back," he whispered. "Would that be okay?"

I nodded my head to affirm that it would be okay, and I moaned aloud my approval. Whatever he was planning to do to me, I didn't want to interrupt him for one moment.

"If I do anything that you don't want me to do," he whispered, "just let me know, and I'll stop."

He carefully turned me over onto my back after setting aside the robe, and then he gently spread apart my arms and legs to the four corners of the bed. I had an idea about what he was going to do next, which I hoped he would do, so I had no intention of telling him to stop.

Sure enough, much to my delight, he deftly restrained, and secured my wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed so that my naked body was taut against the restraints. Immobilizing me even more tightly, he secured my arms and legs with comfortably wide straps that put me in eight point restraints.

I had been tied up for sex many times before by my husband, and by other people while he watched, but I had rarely ever been tied up so tightly, and helplessly as he had me tied up for sex. I could feel my nipples rise up, and harden even before he touched them. I could feel myself getting wetter by the moment even before he began to stimulate my pussy, and clit. I was more than excited. I became sexually ravenous. I wanted him to have his way with me as if I was being taken against my will, and he did not disappoint.

But before he had his way with me, he made sure to get me off with multiple forced orgasms that had me begging for him to stop. He hadn't given me any safe words if things got out of control, and I hadn't asked for any. He had simply told me to let him know when I wanted him to stop, and he would.

That wasn't entirely true. Or perhaps more accurately, it was true, but the way he managed my objections proved to be an extraordinarily satisfying sexual experience for me. I begged for him to stop when he had me squirting uncontrollably, and he would, but only after he took me over the edge of my endurance time, and time again. Then he'd slowly, and sensuously stimulate me until I begged him to get me off again at which point he'd take me against my will again no matter my objections until he had me squirting uncontrollably over, and over, and over.

I never thought it was possible to be pissed off, and happy about what he was doing to me at the same time, but I was, and he knew it. Unlike so many other sexually dominant men, though, he treated me in a loving way, which made me happily submissive to him.

Later on we decided to continue our sexual fun together, but with caution of course. That meant not telling my husband unless, or until the time seemed right to include him in some way. That also meant I'd only go over to his place after I had sufficiently recovered from the intensity of having been so sexually ravished, and dominated.

My husband could sense that something had changed in me, but he didn't pressure me to reveal what had changed. After all, my Hollywood Hills sex partner had turned me into a lover of bondage sex more than I had ever been before, which benefited my husband since I was once again happily enjoying bondage sex with him on a regular basis.

Naturally, I enjoy foot fetish fun with both of them as well.