My Evening With Darla
(Posted on Tuesday, May 8, 2001)
This story was submitted anonymously.

Now that it's Spring, I have resumed my favorite warm weather activity, walking the mall admiring all the sandal clad feet. While walking the mall a few nights ago, I saw a very beautiful woman sitting at a kiosk selling paintings, plates, mugs, etc. by Thomas Kinkade. Before I continue with the story, let me describe Darla for you. She's 5'3" tall, dark brown hair cut short, brown eyes, a killer smile, and size 6 feet with short but slender toes.

When I first started talking to her, it was just about the merchandise, mostly because I really did have questions about the paintings, and her shoes weren't exactly revealing. She was wearing black nylons and closed toe hurraches, which if you looked closely you could almost see the shape of her arch.

A bit later I walked by her again and saw that she was dangling her shoe from her sexy little foot. I was so facinated by her that I started chatting with her again. She was very open with me, telling me about her family, her divorce, what she does for a real job, etc. After talking with her a while, she mentioned that standing on the hard floor of the mall made her feet hurt. I of course offered a relaxing foot massage to ease them. She said she would absolutely love a nice foot massage, but that she had to work. So I asked what time she got off work and if she would want to go out for coffee and a foot rub. She suggested that we meet at the local Denny's at 9:30 p.m. for coffee and to, "see what happens from there."

We sat and chatted for about an hour. Then she said, "So, when do I get my feet rubbed?"

I told her that she had three choices for her foot massage. She could put her feet up on my lap right there, go to my place for it, or go to her place for it. I was hoping that she would pick my place or hers. That way I would have a better shot at kissing those sexy feet. Sure enough, she wanted to go back to her place. She said that she would feel more comfortable there than anywhere else, so I followed her to her place.

When I walked into her house, she immediately took off her shoes and asked me to do the same, explaining that dirty shoes have never touched her floors. She opened a foyer closet and put her shoes in there. She said that she needed to go to the restroom and that I could have a seat on the sofa while I waited for her. As soon as I heard her start up the stairs, I went straight for the shoe closet. I first picked up the shoes that she had just taken off and held them to my nose. They were moist inside, and the scent was still fresh and strong. I couldn't wait to get the real thing up to my nose. I then heard a flush from upstairs and knew that she was on her way down. So I tossed her shoes back in the closet, shut the door and then sprinted to the sofa.

A couple of minutes later, she came walking into the living room. She had taken off the skirt and blouse that she had been wearing, and now had on a robe and the same black nylons as before. My heart started thumping as I imagined what she had on, or not, under her robe. She slowly strolled over to where I was sitting, flopped down on the other end of the sofa and placed her sexy, nylon clad feet on my lap, only inches from my hardening cock. Her nails were painted a light pink with mother-of-pearl swirled in. They looked so sexy through the sheerness of her nylons. I started slowly rubbing her right foot, and with each squeeze she let out a very slight, almost silent moan.

Then she said how good it felt and leaned her head back aginst the arm of the sofa. The move conveniently caused her robe to raise just enough to tell that she wasn't wearing pantyhose, but stokings with black lace garters. That made my already hard dick feel like it was going to burst right out of my zipper. After 15 minutes of massaging her beautiful feet, I couldn't resist anymore. I leaned down and gave each toe a sweet, gentle kiss. The scent of her stocking clad toes just about put me over the edge.

After I had kissed her last toe and sat back up, Darla asked, "Why did you stop kissing my toes? Isn't that the real reason you offered to rub my feet?"

After an invitation like that, all I could do was to lean down and kiss her sexy little toes again. As I continued kissing and sucking those delicacies, she opened her robe revealing a black lace bra and panties. Darla slowly lowered her hand down into her panties, massaging her hot, wet pussy. After a few minutes, she stood up to remove her robe, bra and panties. Then asked me if I wanted to get comfortable too. As I stood up to strip, she sat down and was putting her foot on my crotch. Once I was completely naked, she used both feet and started giving me the best footjob that I had ever had. She would stroke my shaft for about 15 seconds and then give the head a few squeezes with her toes. She teased my cock with her toes for about 10 minutes, then eased to the edge of the sofa, spread her legs, and told me to put my dick in her cunt and fuck her hard while kissing her soles.

At first she held her legs far back, flexing her toes, allowing me to see every beautiful wrinkle. She then raised her legs higher so that I could inhale the wonderful scent at the base of her toes. That's all it took. I started thrusting further and harder into her pussy, feeling my dick start to throb against the walls of her cunt. That's when she started screaming in orgasmic pleasure, curling her toes tightly and squeezing my nose with her sweet sexy toes. That put completely over the edge. I shot my thick, white load further into her fuck hole than I had ever shot in my life.

No sooner had I finished, when Darla asked me to pull out. She lowered her legs, rubbing her feet all up and down my softening dick. As she stroked my shaft, I started getting hard again. Feeling her feet on my cock while watching her finger her clit made my cock start to pulsate until finally I fired all over her toes. What happened next still gets me hard just thinking about it. She pulled her feet up to her mouth and licked my juices off of her toes, slurping every last drop through the weave of her nylons.

Afterward, as I was leaving, Darla told me that If I ever wanted to give her another foot massage, I should just call and let her know.