Sure, he can push through

Despite the sickening burning feeling sliding down into his stomach and the growing urge to retch, Mark decided to shake it off and push through. He looked to Angela with teary eyes and shook his head. "I'm fine, really... thank you."

She smiled at him warmly, her eyes twinkling mischieviously as she spoke, "It is an acquired taste I must admit, but I do so enjoy the effects. It can be quite... magical, if you give it a chance." Angela chuckled softly, a pleasant, calming sound, then leaned back in her chair and gracefully swung her feet up onto a lavishly decorated little foot stool. Her gown slipped and parted slightly to reveal a little more of her calves as she crossed her legs, her painted toes pointed toward the ceiling as the candle light danced over them and Mark found his gaze drawn to them, the sight somehow intensely erotic. When he finally looked away he found Angela staring at him again with those twinkling eyes and he had to **** himself to breathe... this shit really was strong.

Over the next few minutes Mark managed to pull himself together and soon he was feeling pretty good, great even. They had been chatting about not much - the building, the area... he had already forgotten most of it really, but he was having a surprisingly good time. Angela seemed to be too, she was smiling and chuckling at his jokes - he had even managed to down another sip of his drink, smaller this time but it went down without issue leaving him with a pleasant, heady buzz. As they spoke however, Mark kept finding his gaze drawn to Angela's feet. They were right there on display, her perfectly manicured toes occasionally wriggling and catching his eye. What made it worse was that there were few other places to look. Turn to the left and he was confronted with the television which more often than not depicted naked people in various states of congress, or turn to the right and face Angela's steady gaze, under which he began to feel acutely uncomfortable if he held eye contact for more than a few seconds.

And so it was that Mark found himself staring at the woman's feet when they moved slightly, rubbing against each other slowly to punctuate Angela's smooth voice as she spoke. "Would you like to touch them?"

Mark was mortified. She had busted him and was now openly mocking him for it. He looked at her and was met with that same expression of mild amusement, complimented by a cocked eyebrow. "What?" she asked. "Nothing wrong with that... you've been staring at them and, well I do like a good foot massage." she gave him a little wink which sent a jolt through the stunned young man, and he felt a familiar pressure growing in his pants. He knew he should get out while he could, but as his eyes drifted down to her feet and back again, both of Angela's eyebrows now raised as she openly smirked at him, a part of him, deep down knew he had to do this.