Quiet

The house is quiet, comfortably and peacefully quiet, as Heather reads her book and I peruse my work binder. In my old life there would be constant noise. Games, shows, music, podcasts, and really just anything to fill the void. Back then the silence had been a yawning absence through which so many unwelcome thoughts could invade my mind. I needed noise as a distraction. Now the silence was a presence of its own. An awareness of our love and contentment. Full and enveloping.

After a few minutes Heather turns in her seat so her back rested against the armrest then lounges back. Stretching her legs out she slides her bare feet in under my binder to rest them upon my thighs. I smile. There was something so simple, so pure, so intimate by this simple act. Her kisses were heaven but it was these tiny intimate things she did that really made me turn to jelly. I close my book and set it to the side.

Looking down at her feet and the fair skin of her ankles and shins and calves I take a moment just to admire them. I wasn’t a feet guy but I could appreciate a nice set of tootsies as much as anybody. And Heather had some beauts. They were perfectly clean. There was almost no smell, and what aroma there was was extremely subtle and actually quite pleasant. She had straight toes though the dainty pinkies with a cute little inward curl as if they were afraid to wander away from the group, they weren’t particularly long but elegant in the their shape. Her nails were short and perfectly trimmed and smoothed. Though not painted they shone like polished pearls. Her soles were smooth and completely free from callouses, an impressive feat given how much walking she did. And the smooth swoop of her arches just fit with the rest of her curvaceous body. It strikes me then that of all of her body parts her feet had been the place I’d worshiped the least.

I set down my book then cup her near foot in both of my hands. The skin on the top of her foot was as supple as the rest of her, the flesh of her sole like warm silk. Gently I squeeze her foot.

“Mmm.” She hums softly and settles further down into her half seated, half lying position. Turning my right hand I push my palm into the elegant curve or her arch while my left takes a firm hold across the pad of her foot to give it a squeeze. “Hmmm.” She sighs happily.

That was all the encouragement I needed. I begin massaging her beautiful foot in earnest.

After running my hands all around her foot in a light rubbing action I then begin with the central sole of her foot. Firmly I run the heel of my thumb up her sole while gripping the top of her foot solidly. At the top I stop, twist, then run it back down again to her heel. I continue this for awhile, sensing the rest of her body melting with relaxation beside me, then switch to gripping the foot around either side and running my thumbs up and down her soles as my finger work the top of the foot.

“Ohhhh.” Laying her book down on her bosom Heather closes her eyes and surrenders herself to the good feelings I was giving to her.

I grip her heel, squeezing it and pressing it in anyway I thought would be nice. I massage her ankle, carefully getting in and around the lumps and bumps of her bones to soothe the gaps and tendons. Swooshing my hands along the top of her feet I return to the ball and squeeeeze in long, rhythmic motions to push every ache from her metatarsals. And then, not to be forgotten, I rub and twist and pinch at every lovely toe. Around them, between them, under them and over them I lavish my full attention on each, one by one by one.

“Ohhh, Elliot.” She whispers.

My smile grows. The joy I got from pleasuring this magnificent woman ran deep, as deep as it could go. I finish the first foot with another all around light rub, purely for pleasure’s sake, then move on to do the same with the other foot. I work it at the same pace, in the same order and with the same loving focus.

By the time I was done Heather was a three dimensional puddled jelly draped across our sofa. Her hair flowed around her beaming face and cascaded back over the arm. Her limbs hung loose, her left arm left to hang limply off the edge. And her whole body was loose and relaxed. So relaxed the it was only the smile on her face that let me know that she wasn’t asleep. The only part of her tense was her rock hard erection that tented through her panties to lift her skirt.

“Oh, Elliot.” She sighs. “That was wonderful.”

Leaning down I tenderly kiss the back of her left foot. “Anything for you.”

Slowly she opens her eyes. With heavy lids she stares at me for a time before saying. “Take me to bed, handsome.”

“Yes, my love.” I say softly.

Plucking the book from her chest I lay it down on top of my binder as she gazes warmly. Treating her feet like the treasures that they were I gently place them on the floor. I missed their weight on my thighs the moment they were gone but I knew I would not be starved of her touch for long. Rising up off of the sofa I take my lover’s hands and help her to her feet. In one smooth motion she gets up and melts into my body, allowing me to support her. She rests her head on my shoulder, one arm around my body as the other hand lightly plays across my chest.

With my Queen clung to me I slowly move about the room turning off lights, locking up, and just generally making sure all was well. The whole way we are moving ever closer to our private chambers. At the foot of our bed I stop and turn to face her.

With languid yet smoldering eyes Heather gazes. The smoke of that smolder curls out to embrace me. They weren’t ‘fuck me’ eyes, they were ‘I’m about to fuck you’ eyes.

Her hand on my chest she whispers. “I want to cuddle, baby.”

“Mmm.” I smile. “Would you like to me to remove your clothes.”

“Mm mm.” She shakes her head. “Not this time.” Stepping in she brushes her soft cheek along mine then whispers into my ear. “Put in your plug, my boy, and I will meet you beneath the covers.”

I lean into her soft body, her stiff cock pressing hard against mine, and whisper back. “Yes, Ma’am.”