Jenny, Part 2: First Contact
(Published on Tuesday, February 16, 2005)
This story was submitted by Barry S.

To read the 1st part of this story, click Jenny, Part 1: The Massage.

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Jenny had a small, brown mole on her left ass cheek. It was cute. I was lying in bed, and staring across the room at her. I was half under the sheets, my cock, slippery, covered in cum. Jenny stood there nude, with her back to me. We had just finished making love, and I was having a smoke. Jenny was also in the process of lighting up. The way she sat in the arm chair, smoking her fag, in the nude, with her legs crossed, made her look so regal. Her foot dangling, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders. I could've blown another load right there. She looked so beautiful.

I bet you're wondering how we got this far. The last that you read, I had made it to first base with Jenny's feet (unknowingly to her) and we had set up a date. Well, let me fill you in on what happened after that.

                                                               ***

Jenny had looked lovely at dinner. She was wearing a slinky, black dress. I was actually surprised to see her in a dress, because I thought that this was just going to be a casual night out. She had on a pair of black, high heeled, dress sandals. You could nearly see her entire bare foot, save a couple of black straps. They were sexy. Her hair was up in a pony tail, and hanging down her back.

After about thirty minutes of dinner conversation and a fabulous meal, Jenny popped the big question. "I have a huge favor to ask you, Barry." she said.

"Sure, anything."

""Can I spend the night at your house?" she asked.

I couldn't believe my ears. She had to have been kidding. But why would she kid, about that?

"What?" I asked.

"If you don't want me to, I won't, but Paul is out of town, on business, and I hate to stay at the house by myself. Usually I would sleep at the dance studio when he's away, but I figured I'd ask you before I did that."

I must have been dreaming. "Uhm, sure. I don't mind at all," I said.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Stay as long as you need to."

I bet you're all wondering who Paul is. Paul is Jenny's husband. That's right, she's married. Has been for thirty plus years. I had almost forgotten about Paul, while we were having dinner together. I tried to imagine that Jenny was my wife, I loved her so much. I know that's a big statement, but I truly loved her. But, I looked on the bright side, I would be spending the night with my dream girl, Jenny.

We finished dinner, and headed back home. My home. Jenny said that for tonight she would sleep in one of my mother's gowns. Little did she know, she wouldn't be wearing one of my mother's gowns to bed. In fact, she wouldn't be wearing anyhting to bed.

                                                                ***

"Thank you, so much, Barry." Jenny said.

We had been home for only an hour or so, and we were sitting on the couch together, talking.

"Oh, it's no problem. It's not even my house. It's my parents house," I said.

"Usually, I would sleep at the studio, but it's so noisy there at night. You know how loud downtown Chicago can get," she said. "Plus, you have a spare bed. At the studio I have to sleep on the floor."

There was a small pause.

"Do you wanna' know another plus, to staying here?" She asked.

"What?"

"You're here to keep me company."

                                                                 ***

Jenny had slipped off her shoes, and we had been chatting on the couch. I was trying to keep my eyes focussed on her lips, but often my attention would go to her feet. She had also let her hair down, and taken off some jewelry that she had worn to dinner. She looked comfortable.

After a few more minutes of talking, Jenny threw one of her bare feet in my lap. "How 'bout another massage?"

"Sure." I grabbed her foot and began working it over. In less than twenty four hours, I had Jenny's bare feet in my hands, not once, but twice.

"That feels great, Barry. How did you get so good at this?" she asked.

"Because I have a love for female feet. I'm sexually turned on by them and I pride myself on giving a great foot massage." I had decided, spur of the moment, to spill the beans about my love for feet.

I expected her to pull her foot away, but she didn't.

"Really? How interesting," she said. "Then, should you really be clutching my feet in your hands?"

"It's up to you. I'm just massaging them. It's really no big deal." I said. But, it was a big deal, a huge deal.

"Well...are you attracted to my feet?" she asked, in a curious tone.

I thought about lying and just saying 'no,' but I figured I'd just tell her the truth.

"Yes," I said. I held my breath to see what she would say. She said nothing. She pulled her foot away. I sat there with my head bowed. I had just ruined the night,that I was going to have with Jenny. We sat at opposite sides of the couch. Me, with my head bowed. Jenny, facing the wall. We didn't speak.

"Are you attracted to me?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes."

"In what way?"

"In the way, that I think you're the most beautiful woman, I've ever seen. I've always thought so. Not only your feet, but your entire body. Your mind, your soul, your personality. I'm attracted to the inner you and the outer you."

"You've always thought of me this wayu, huh?" she asked.

"I became physically attracted to you and your feet when I was about eight years old."

I decided to tell the story.

"I was helping dad fix something at the studio, and you came into the room. You were barefoot, and you were wearing your leotard. Your hair was shimmering over your shoulders. I remember you looking sown at me and smiling. You were the first girl that I was attracted to. I've felt that way ever since."

"If you were eight, I would've been thirty eight." Jenny said. She continued. "Paul has been very busy with work lately. Actually, he's been busy with work for a while now. I couldn't tell you the last time that we made love. I couldn't tell you the last time that Paul held me in his arms. I couldn't tell you the last time Paul and I sat down for a romantic dinner, like you and I did tonight. And as for rubbing my feet, Paul has never done that. I'm convinced that Paul doesn't love me anymore. Actually, I think he may be cheating on me."

She leaned across the couch and kissed me, ever so softly, on the lips.

"I trust you, Barry. I have always looked at you like a son. As you grew up, I began to look at you more like a friend. While I still may be attracted to Paul, physically, I'm no longer attracted to him emotionally. And to me, that's more important. I haven't had sex in quite a while. I was actually thinking of getting a male escort to have relations with. But, I feel a connection to you, emotionally. Plus, you're cute. Meet me in your parents room in thirty minutes."

She stood up and walked away. I just sat there, turning her words over in my head.

                                                                ***

I entered my parents room thirty minutes later, just like Jenny had told me to. She was lying, sideways, on the bed, in her dress, barefoot. She hadn't changed her appearance from when she left the living room.

"Hey," I said whispering.

"Hey," Jenny replied, also in a whisper.

I walked over to the foot of the bed, and took Jenny's foot in my hand. I wanted to seem forceful. I began to rub her foot with one hand. I wasn't rubbing it with vigor, just kind of playing around with it. I then brought her foot up to my mouth and planted a couple of kisses, gently on the sole of her foot. I then moved up her leg, and began to rub her calf. I brought my other hand up and took her calf into my grip. Her calf was milky white and very strong, due to her years as a dancer. Then I took off my shirt. I started to think that I was going to fast, but I didn't want Jenny to change her mind. I lifted both of her feet up, and placed them on  my chest. It felt so good. The skin of her feet pressing against the skin on my chest. She never stopped looking into my eyes, and I returned the gesture.

"Take my dress off of me," she told me.

I took her by the wrists, and pulled her up to the edge of the bed. I pulled her up onto her feet. I grabbed two handfuls of her dress, at the bottom, and pulled it up over her head, and off of her body. She was wearing black, lace tangas (also called cheeky shorts) and a matching bra. She looked great. Jenny was fifty four at the time of this story, and you honestly couldn't tell. Her stomach was flat and wasn't sagging at all. Her thighs looked as though they were sculpted. They were perfect. The only thing that looked old on Jenny were her hands. I always thought she had elderly looking hands. But the bottom line was, she looked great.

"You are so beautiful," I said.

"You're not too bad, yourself."

She then unbuckled my belt, and slid off my pants. We were now both in our underwear. I knew what was coming next. I was going to kiss her. I took her by the shoulders, and brought her down to the bed. We were both lying on the bed, looking at each other, and I gave her a kiss. We made out for a few minutes. Swapping tongues, and spit, into each other's mouths.

She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. I slid it off of her shoulders. Her tits were fantastic. I had never seen her bare chest before, and her breasts were voluptuous. She had a very good sized chest (as mentioned in the first story a 36 or 38C). I played with her nipples a little while kissing her neck. Her neck was spritzed with perfume, and I could taste it as I kissed her. I then made my way to her nipples. I began to suck her tits, encircling them with my tongue. I lifted up her breasts, and kissed underneath them, ingesting the sweat that was hiding out underneath her boob.

"How are they?" Jenny asked, reffering to her breasts.

"Great."

"Do they taste good?"

"The best thing I ever tasted," I said.

"Let's get under the covers," she said.

We then got off of the bed, which was still fully made. We turned down the covers. We then proceeded to get completely naked. I lost my socks and underwear, and Jenny lost her tangas. We slid under the covers. A small light on Jenny's side of the bed is all that remained on. The blinds were pulled. It was 10:45 at night according to the bedside clock. Jenny and I began to make love.

A quick note, if I may:

I consider making love and fucking two different things. Fucking is much harder. You pound a pussy when you fuck it. You also use fetishes and toys to enhance the fucking expierence. During a love making session, you would never use toys. You would probably never use fetishes. You would slowly ease into a woman, pull out and repeat. Making love is a very personnal thing between two people. If you make love to someone, you really must love them. In closing, making love is all about love, and fucking is all about pleasure.

                                                               ***

I eased in and out of Jenny's pussy for about forty minutes, without cumming. It was so sensual. My body pressed up against hers, was (and is) the best feeling in the world. We barely made a sound. An occasional whimper from Jenny, the squeak of the bed, and the smack of our lips as we kissed was all that could be heard. We didn't talk. We just stared into each other's eyes.

When I finally came into her, it felt so good. Jenny came a little bit too, but not as much as me. She held me in her arms as I was cumming. I let out a series of bellows, and she caressed my head like a mother caresses her baby when it's crying.

When we were through, I leaned back on one side of the bed, and Jenny propped herself up on the other side. We began to talk.

"So," Jenny said, "what do you think?"

"It was great," I replied.

"I mean, what do you think about the whole situation? You know, me and you screwing?"

"I have truly always loved you, for as long as I can remember. I sat at dinner tonight with you, and just wished that you were my wife, and that we were out for a night on the town," I said.

"I don't know if we can take it that far, but we can continue to make love. I didn't tell you earlier, but Paul is actually out of town for three weeks. I can stay if you'll have me. I truly enjoyed tonight. You made me feel so special. I haven't had that feeling in years. Too many years."

"Of course you can stay. I truly enjoyed tonight, as well. I have never made love that personal before. I've always fucked women. But, I don't think what we just did was that at all. It was more special," I said.

I leaned over to the night table, and got my cigarettes. I lit one up. Nothing like a cig' after a screw.

"Can I have one of those?" Jenny asked, reffering to my smoke.

"You're a beautiful dancer. Do you really think you need one of these?" I asked, smiling.

"Come on, Barry. Please." Jenny said, laughing. I obliged, and handed one over. Jenny rose from her position.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I need to stretch my legs."

"Hurry back."

I watched Jenny light up the cigarette. I noticed a mole on her ass cheek. It was cute. She sat down in an arm chair, crossed her legs, and lit up her fag. She looked so regal. I just watched her from the bed. I was so lucky. I had just made love to the girl of my dreams. She was so beautiful. During the thirty minutes that I was waiting to go to meet Jenny, earlier in the night, I was thinking that this was all a mistake, and that I shouldn't go to meet Jenny in my parent's room. It was at this moment that I realized I had not made a mistake. She was a great girl.

Jenny got back into bed, and we laid at opposite sides, and agian began talking to each other. I took her feet into my hands, and began to massage them. We laid there until the sun came up, just talking. We talked about everything. It was the greatest night of my life. I awoke on Saturday afternoon with Jenny in my arms, and smiled.

To be continued...

That about wraps it up. I apoloqize to the foot fetishists. I know there weren't a whole lot of feet references in this story. But, check out Jenny Part 3 where Jenny and I get nasty. There will be a ton of foot capers and references in that one.

If you like this story, e-mail me at feetgm@hotmail.com. Or if you would like to send Jenny an e-mail, you can do so at <this e-mail address will only be made public once it's confirmed, so check back at a later date). If you have any questions, comments or anything for an older lady with a *new found foot fetish, drop her a line. She had a hand in writing this story, and would love to hear from you.

Thank you for reading. Keep on footin' in the free world. Barry S. and Jenny H.