Toes a la Mode (Ma Cheri)

With her head almost completely hidden from view, suddenly Mike saw
her stretching her legs, moving her feet in all directions as if she
was looking for something on them...maybe even admiring them. The
happy wiggling and stretching and luxuriant cavorting of those feet
said she was obviously happy to have them free of the confines of her
shoes. Mike's sweat mechanisms turned themselves up a notch...or
two...or twenty. Sighing to himself, he knew he could never tell her
that he was equally happy to see those lovely feet freed of their
leather prisons.

Almost as if in a trance, Mike's wobbly legs backed him away from the
fifth row and carried him up one step to the next row. Slowly, he
walked down the row, his shaky hands spilling kernels of popcorn along
the way. He stopped three seats away from the seat just in front of
the woman. She looked over at him and smiled. He smiled back.

He sat down, sighing and shaking...sneaking quick glances at her feet.
They were lovely. If he had to guess, he'd say they were a size 7 or
8. They looked so soft and smooth. And when she scrunched her toes, he
could see a pretty, deep blue color painted on her toenails. Those
adorable feet held his attention, discreetly of course, for several
minutes as they danced and wiggled on the seat back in their
comfortable freedom. Just as the lights began to extinguish completely
for the trailers to begin, Mike, trying to be cool and slick, got up
out of his chair just enough to slide over one more seat, closer to
those sexy tootsies. He hoped the woman didn't notice...or worse yet,
he hoped she didn't start screaming...or move to another seat.

She neither screamed nor moved. But Mike was sure he heard a stifled
giggle. He shuddered, afraid she might've seen him looking at her
feet. But a part of him reveled in the idea that she maybe did see
him, and perhaps she liked having her feet admired, or at least didn't
mind. He wouldn't even care if she was amused by it, as long as she
wasn't offended. It was always his fantasy to be caught discreetly
admiring a woman's feet and have her seduce him with them. It was a
remote possibility at best, and it hadn't happened in his twenty years
of admiring shapely feminine feet, but...hope springs eternal.

The only downfall to trying to ogle a pair of sexy feet during a movie
like SUNSET OF THE LIVING DEAD, is that zombie flicks seldom have a
lot of bright, sunny scenes. After the first ten minutes or so, there
were few scenes in which the brightness of the projected image aided
him in his admiration of all things footsy. But, those rare instances
in which light WAS sufficient, Mike took full advantage.
Instinctively, as soon as a bright scene lit the theater, he would
hunch down in his seat and immediately look at the woman's feet as
they flexed and wiggled on the seat back. God, how it made him horny
to watch those feet...so close, yet so very, very distant. It caused a
most exasperating ache in the crotch of his pants. As frustrating as
it was to be able to look but not touch, it was still eminently fun in
a tantalizingly voyeuristic way.

Being only occasionally able to focus on the objects of his desire,
Mike resigned himself to watching bits and pieces of the movie,
occasionally looking toward those peds in hopes that he might be able
to see them in spite of the gloominess of the room. Thus keeping track
of the woman's feet only sporadically, he lost track of them briefly.
Glancing over yet again, he saw that those incredible soles and toes
were gone...removed from the seat back in a cold attempt by God
Himself to shatter his adoring heart. With a sigh of complete and
utter dejection, Mike assumed the woman had tired of having her feet
up and had brought them down to place them back on the floor. Even
worse, she probably had become offended or nervous and decided to put
her shoes back on. Oh, bitter agony.

But no! They weren't gone at all. Rather, those tantalizing tootsies
had been moved slightly, to a new and presumably more comfortable
position. And...joy of joys!...they had been moved even nearer to him!
The darling woman had slid her feet down between two of the seat
backs, the one in front of her and the one next to Mike! Her legs were
crossed so that one outstretched leg rested atop the other, the heel
of the upper foot resting on the inside ankle of the lower. Now those
lovely works of art were less than two feet from Mike's heaving chest.
As before, the flexing, stretching and wiggling of soles and toes
continued. Mike felt the distinct urge to lean over and kiss the foot
nearest him, holding it captive and adoring it from toes to heel with
his hungry lips. Oh, how he yearned for that foot...how he desired
it...how he wanted to nuzzle and nibble it. He stared at that foot and
got harder and harder by the second. He'd have given anything just to
touch it...to stroke it oh, so tenderly with his hands...to sigh on
those wiggling toes.

***********

"Excuse me," Mike heard, a sound like the whisper of butterfly wings.

He thought he was hearing things. Oh, no, he thought, it must be
someone in the movie. He looked at the screen more intently, turning
his ear toward it, but saw and heard only screaming victims running
from brain-hungry zombies in a run-down, deserted diner. As one of the
characters tossed a homemade Molotov Cocktail at one of the shambling
things and set it ablaze, the theater lit up brightly, and Mike again
took the opportunity to adore those oh, so tempting feet.

"Excuse me," he heard again. Tearing his eyes from darkly painted
toenails, he instinctively looked in the direction of the hushed
words. "Hello? Excuse me," the voice said again as his eyes focused on
the pretty face. It was the barefoot woman, not a character on the
movie screen. With her feet still between the seats, she was leaning
forward as far as she could and looking between the seats directly at
him! The glow of the onscreen cooking zombie glittered in her eyes,
making them dance mischievously in the darkness. "Um....uh....yeah?"
Mike answered. His blood froze. He was terrified. Surely she had
caught him ogling her feet and was going to tell him to go have sexual
relations with himself...if she was THAT kind about it.

"I was wondering," she said quietly, "if you wouldn't mind doing me a
favor."

"Uh....if I can...sure," he replied, cringing a little. Oh, sure, he
thought...here it comes. He was certain she was going to strongly
suggest he begin copulating with himself, or perhaps a very close
relative.

"Well, I hate to ask," she said sweetly, "but I really could use your
help."

Mike just looked up and back at her, afraid to move a muscle. Even in
the darkness, he could see her smile. Her eyes looked pleadingly at
him. The look seemed genuine...sincere. She wasn't angry with him at
all. His tightened muscles untensed. "Sure," he said, feeling better,
but still wary.

"Well, you see, I came here directly from work, and I had a terrible
day. I had to stand most of the day in a pair of shoes I just bought
yesterday. It was stupid, I know, wearing shoes to work that haven't
been broken in yet... but...well, I did. Anyway..." Her voice trailed
off as Mike's mind drifted. He was thinking of her pretty feet trapped
in uncomfortable shoes for so many grueling hours...of what a crime
that was, and how he wished he could have been with her at work all
day to rub and kiss away the pain those lovely feet must've endured.
His own sigh was so loud that he brought himself out of his fantasy
world. Scrambling quickly to listen again, he shifted his position and
looked more directly at her.

"So....could you? I mean...would you mind?" he heard her say. "Seeing
as how you're sitting right there and all," she continued without
stopping for air.

Having no clue what she asked, he stammered, "I'm sorry....what....?"

She smiled, and her smile didn't look at all embarrassed...but rather
cautiously hopeful. She cocked her head to one side and spoke, more
loudly than was actually necessary, despite the carnage on the movie
screen.

"My feet. If you wouldn't mind, could you be a dear and rub them for
me?"

There was no way in a million years Mike could believe he'd heard
correctly. His fantasies were obviously getting the better of him. He
was losing it. He had to be.

"If you'd rather not, it's okay," the woman continued. "I fully
understand. But if you could....I would sooooooo appreciate it." Even
if he hadn't been into feet, her smile and twinkling eyes would have
suckered him into it in a fraction of a heartbeat.

Not believing he was saying it, he replied in a voice slightly louder
than a sigh, "Sure...I'd love to. I mean...I'd be happy to."

"Really?" she beamed, "Oh, thanks so much. My feet are really achy,
and a nice rub would be Heaven. Really, thank you so much...um...,"
she waited for Mike to take the hint and give her his name, but his
mind was still digesting the unbelievable fact that this incredible
woman wanted him to rub her feet. Smiling, the woman reached her hand
out as far as she could and said, "By the way, my name's
Cheri...what's yours?"

"Mike," he sighed, "I'm Mike." Gathering his wits a bit and shaking
her hand nervously, he added, "Nice to meet you, Cheri..very nice."

"Thank you, Mike. Same here. And you are definitely my hero. My feet
will be forever in your debt."

No, Mike thought, I'll be forever in YOUR debt. With his chest heaving
and his heart pounding, he said, "Cheri, why don't you just sit back,
and I'll see what I can do for these achy tootsies, okay?"

"Oh, Mike....you're a saint. Thank you so much. And you feel free to
do whatever you think you need to do to make my tootsies feel good.
You have Carte Blanche."

"Really?" Mike said, allowing himself a wicked smile. He laughed.
"Well, maybe I should just confine myself to rubbing them for now. Who
knows how carried away I might get with such pretty feet as these." He
couldn't believe he said that! Now he knew for sure she would look at
him like he was the king of the pervs and take those lovely feet away
from him. He tensed again...waiting for the hammer of disappointment
to once again slam down on his dreary life.

"Wow...you think my feet are pretty? Thank you, Mike. I'm flattered. I
try to take really good care of them...well, when I'm not dumb enough
to wear untried shoes to work, that is. But it is nice to have all the
effort noticed once in a while. And, like I said, do whatever you
think will soothe my feet."

"Well, I'll stick to rubbing," he laughed. He wanted to say, "Okay,
I'll try to keep from kissing them TOO much," but those words stuck in
his throat. His brain had to scramble for the other, less needy words
as it was.

"Don't you dare. If you know of something you can do for my feet that
will make them tingle with delight, you feel free to go ahead and do
it. A girl can never have too much foot pampering, I always say.
Sometimes rubbing is only the tip of the pleasure iceberg. Besides,
you're being nice enough to comfort my sore feet, so I'm not going to
look a gift horse in the mouth if you know of anything else that'll
make them wiggle with joy."

"Well....I don't know," Mike said, already moving into the seat
immediately alongside her feet, "I might get too fond of such gorgeous
tootsies and then who knows...? I think I should just...."

"I repeat, Mike," she said firmly, smiling at him, grinning from ear
to ear, "you do whatever it takes to pamper my feet, and," she added
looking directly into his eyes, "to make them feel loved. Understand,
Mike? I have positively the most neglected feet on the planet. My poor
tootsies would die for some loving."

Indeed he did understand what she meant...or, at least, hoped he did.
His pulse raced and his breathing became choppy at best. But, as much
as he wanted to take those feet in his hands and kiss them raw, he
still couldn't risk it. For all he knew, she was just being flirty,
and didn't really want anything more than a foot rub. If he had
misunderstood her meaning and started kissing her feet, he could find
her knee firmly implanted in his crotch, thoroughly squashing all
three of his most prized possessions. For now, he wasn't going to take
any chances. He'd play the hero...massaging her tired feet, and doing
nothing more.

Cheri sat back in her seat, biting her lower lip, praying that Mike
had gotten the message. Sure, she wanted a nice, soothing foot
massage, but if this guy was willing to do more...mmmm...how wonderful
that would be. She started to fantasize again. This time it was Mike's
lips she felt caressing the insteps of her feet, saw grazing the tips
of her toes. In the dim light, she could swear she saw her toes
disappearing between his lips, plunging deep into his mouth. She
stifled a giggle as she found herself wondering what his mustache
would feel like as he sucked her toes. She sighed, but the visions
remained just that...visions...gossamer strands of imagination. All
that touched her feet was a strong pair of hands...no adoring lips.
Oh, well, it was better than nothing. And how many women could go to a
theater and get a foot rub while they watched a movie? She was
certainly ahead of the game, if not totally where she'd like to be.
And she was NOT about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Mike fought hard to hide his desire as his hands captured her right
foot and cradled it. He held it close enough to his face to admire
it's shape. The side of the seat back kept him from bringing her foot
closer to him, so he had to lean over to get close to it. He didn't
mind at all. His hands savored it's softness and smoothness. Even in
the ever-changing light of the theater, his eyes took in every curve
and slope of his prize. He started to gently massage it, which brought
a sigh from Cheri. She sat back in her seat and tried to watch the
movie, although she had trouble concentrating on it. Bending still
nearer to her foot, raising it closer to his admiring eyes, Mike
realized the first of his fantasies. While kneading her soles with
firm pressure from his thumbs, and gently stroking her insteps with
lightly caressing fingers, he inhaled deeply and exhaled, sighing on
Cheri's toes. She felt the warmth of that sigh as it cascaded lightly
over her happy toes, and though she tried to watch the movie, her eyes
had other plans. They rolled up in her head as if trying to see the
pleasure beginning to sparkle in her brain.

Cheri's eyes remained rolled up in her head, try as she might to watch
the movie. She had gotten weak, slumped back in the chair, face aimed
at the dark ceiling. All she could do was sigh and lick her lips. The
wonderful rubbing and kneading going on at her pampered foot was
draining every bit of energy from her...relaxing her completely. But
part of her was anything but relaxed. The closeness of Mike's lips to
her foot, and his warm breath washing over it ( my God...was he
panting?! ) had seemed to reroute every nerve ending in her body to
the quickly moistening patch between her legs. She yearned for his
lips and tongue to help his hands pamper her feet. In her head, she
screamed, "PLEASE...PLEASE...USE YOUR LIPS...YOUR TONGUE! OH,
MIKE...GO FOR IT!!"

Mike, holding Cheri's pretty, soft, sensual foot just inches from his
lips, was losing his ability to maintain his composure. He knew he
should only rub her foot...not take chances...but his mind was
becoming clouded, his thought processes muddled. He wanted to kiss
Cheri's foot more than he wanted to take his next breath. His lips
seemed to be tugging his head downward, compelling it toward her
warmly tingling foot. His mouth wanted to lunge forward and attack her
toes, taking them all into itself at once, and sucking feverishly. His
tongue urged his mouth to do just that, so it could enjoy those warm
toes as well. Inhaling deeply with the intent of sighing yet again,
Mike's lungs sucked the mild scent of Cheri's feet into his
nostrils...and all will power vacated his mind and body.

Still enjoying the foot rub, Cheri gave in. She gave up totally the
idea of watching the movie, her brain preferring to savor every
sensation of what was occurring below her ankles. To do that, her
sensory receptors decided to shut down all other stimuli. All she
could now feel was the warmth and rubbing going on at her foot...and
the growing wetness between her thighs. Everything else faded hazily
from existence.

And then it happened. Something soft brushed along the tips of her
toes. While most of her foot was cool from the theater's air
conditioning, the area from the ball of her foot to her toes was very,
very warm. The contrast between the two, heat and coolness, was both
invigorating and exciting. But, it was when the warmth at her toes
increased that she mustered up the strength to bend her head forward
to see what was happening.

She thought she was fantasizing again. Her pleasure-glazed eyes slowly
focussed. She wasn't fantasizing at all! It was really happening! Mike
was hunched over her foot, his hands still working at comforting it,
but his lips were slowly, tenderly adoring her toes! He was actually
kissing her foot!! She nearly lost all the moisture in her body
directly through her incredibly hot honeypot. She was mesmerized
watching him worship her toes, holding her foot tightly to his lips,
seeming to not be able to get enough of her toes. And though he wasn't
sucking, the earlier posed question of what his mustache would feel
like on her toes was answered.

Mike had been kissing Cheri's foot for a very long time, as lost in
the pleasure of it as Cheri had been, before he even realized he was
doing it. The softness of her foot against his lips was driving him
crazy, making his pants tighter by the second. When he finally did
realize he was lovingly kissing her wiggling toes, his mind weakly
told him he should stop, that she was probably going to slap him into
the middle of next week. But he couldn't stop. What's more, he wanted
to do MORE than just kiss her foot. His mouth yearned to taste it. His
tongue actually ITCHED to savor the softness of her flesh. He sighed
more frequently than ever on her foot. What he didn't realize was that
he'd been kissing her feet, both of them, for well over an hour. He'd
given both a thorough massage, and kissed much more than just her
toes. Fingers and lips had left no stone unturned. Toes, soles,
ankles, insteps and every possible inch of both feet had been both
soothed and worshipped. To Mike and Cheri it had been only seconds,
when in reality both had enjoyed this incredible diversion without
either of them having seen much more than the opening credits of the
movie and a few early scenes. Unknown to either of them, the ending
credits had begun to roll by the time Mike realized he was going
further than he'd intended to.

Not being aware of what had truly transpired, Mike tried to force
himself to pull back from her feet...to go back to just massaging
them. Still unaware of the actual time lapse, his illogical hope was
that she hadn't noticed him kissing them. Finally, using every ounce
of will power he possessed, he managed to force his lips to vacate
Cheri's soft foot flesh. But he was shown quickly that that was NOT
what Cheri wanted. As he pulled his mouth away, her foot seemed to
tense. The toes bent back, splayed apart slightly. If such a thing
could happen, it almost seemed as if Cheri's foot was angry...or, more
accurately perhaps, determined. Mike's mouth hadn't moved three inches
away from her foot before those single-minded toes shot forward. The
pads of her toes slammed against Mike's slightly parted lips in a
no-nonsense act of desperation. They pressed hard against his lips,
wiggling energetically, the tips of the toes working between his lips
about a half inch before they relaxed, still flexing slightly as they
reached his teeth. Mike was only vaguely aware of Cheri's words as her
foot roughly attacked his mouth.