An evening with Maria
(Posted on Thursday, October 25, 2001)
This story was submitted by FL27@freakmail.de.

Oh, I love summer!

These times, when the days get shorter, thinking of summer days keeps you warm
inside. I'd like to tell a story that happened in summer a few years ago. I went to a
party with friends. It was one of those parties with too many boys and too few girls
(I guess you know that). However, we had a lot of fun and enough to drink. This evening Maria was there, too. I thought that she had a crush on me at this time, but I wasn't sure.

She was 22 years old, had red hair and green eyes. She wasn't the prettiest girl in town, but she always was happy and very funny. At this evening she caught my eye because she was wearing a white pullover (with nothing underneath as far as I could see). Wow, what a sight! Blue jeans and, what I liked most, sneakers without socks. I think there is nearly nothing so erotic than a girl barefoot in her shoes. Periodically I caught myself starring at her feet.

The evening went by very fast and people started going home. Maria wanted to go home, too. I offered to take her home and she thankfully agreed. While we were walking to her place, I asked her if she wanted to climb up a specific hill, from where there is a beautiful of our nightly lit town.

"Oh, I'd love to," she said.

Up on the hill we sat down and enjoyed the great view. We talked about God and the world for about an hour. Then she said something, that caused my heart to pound. "My feet are cold as ice!"

I guess it was the alcohol that made me brave enough to offer to warm her feet without thinking about what I was saying. The last word hadn't left my mouth when I realized what I had just said. My face turned red (I hoped she couldn't see
it) and I had a strange feeling in my stomach. "Oh my God," I thought. "What if she thinks I'm one of these perverted guys? What, if she finds it disgusting, that someone wanted to touch her feet?" My mind raced and I wished I had never said those words.

She looked at me with big eyes and I thought I had to die. But then she smiled and with a glance in her eyes that said, "Hey it was your idea," she laid her feet on my legs. The strange feeling in my stomach was still there. I could hear my heart pounding and I was sure that I was blushing (again hoping, she wouldn't see it in the dark).

I opened her shoe laces and I wondered what her feet would look like. I had never seen them before. Well, let us be honest. Regarding feet, you will find everything between disgusting and wonderful. I expected an, "OK, not that good," and pulled the shoes off of her feet. What I saw was fascinating, marvelous. There was a pair of the prettiest feet I had ever seen, a 9 on a 10-point-scale. I recognized my erection.

Soft soles, a high arches and wonderful toes. Her nails were perfect. Really perfect! It was like a dream. Her nails weren't painted, but I think there is no color that could have made this sight better. It was just perfect that way.

I took her feet between my hands and realized that her feet weren't as cold as she had said. While massaging her feet, we talked about this and that. I found it hard to concentrate on our conversation. A dream had become real and I was very aroused. It was a wonderful feeling just holding her feet in my hands. A feeling that I can't describe.

So I massaged her feet, caressed her soles and put my fingers between her toes. Every time that I did that, she started to giggle. This went on for a while. I was in heaven. To come to my senses, I lit a cigarette (Chesterfeld for you detail-loving people. I noticed a light scent of her feet on my hands. Here I have to say that I really don't like smelly feet, but this time I loved what my nose sent to my brain. Jokingly I told her that I thought she had sweat too much in her shoes. I wanted to kill myself for this dumb commment!

She looked at me and said, "That can't be. I washed my feet before."

"What do you mean with 'before'?" I asked.

"Well, shortly before we left the party," was her answer.

"Did she know about my fetish at this time?" I thought to myself. The answer I gave myself was, "yes," but this evening I wasn't able to think. I was an idiot! We just talked for a while and I took her home. She kissed me on my cheek and thanked me for a wonderful evening. I walked home. The sun was setting when I arrived. I went to bed and dreamt of that wonderful girl with the wonderful feet.

Now, everytime the cold autumn announces the winter, I sit at home with a cup of hot tea (with rum) and think about what could have happened. But even though nothing more happened, thinking of that night on the hill paints a smile on my face.

Please tell me what you think of my story.

- FL27@freakmail.de