Phone Sex Series: client #1, the foot fetishist

I’m a phone sex operator, and I love my clients because they are the best sort of sexual deviants, because they cannot or will not stop from indulging their fantasies, they will not or cannot prevent their minds from going to all the mindscapes that we are forbidden to traverse in real life because of taboo, propriety and in some cases legality. I believe that fantasy space is free space, a space where there are no limits to what we want and how we want it. It’s a place where we are free to explore everywhere our sexuality may take us. It’s a place where guilt has no place, at least for me. It’s where I dream of exploitation, lust, sweat and tear soaked sessions.

I dream all these things because they arouse me and every day I realize that dreaming is becoming an act of rebellion, revolution, subversion. I write this not only because I hope to whet your imagination (and wet your undies), but because it may inspire you dream a little nastier than you otherwise might. Every fantasy in the Phone Sex Series comes from a real man, somewhere. Maybe he’s your boss or your barista, your tech guy or that guy who does the traffic report on the morning news.

I write from my bed, enveloped in cheetah print sheets stained with the remnants of sweat, pre-cum and saliva rubbed off from my breasts and the cocks of my Craigslist conquests. I sleep in this salacious mixture and it inspires me as much as the voices of the scores of men who have been my verbal lovers, who stroke their dicks eagerly to my voice.

I met Vanessa years before I realized I had a thing for women’s feet. In my 20s I just assumed that staring at women’s manicured toes was just as typical as any other part of my sexuality. I assumed that well-groomed feet and toes indicated an overall proclivity for sexual attention, which I obviously enjoyed lavishing on women. I was intrigued by Vanessa because she was so conservative. Upon later recollection, I realized that she was pretty sexually adventurous with the exception of showing off her feet or taking off her socks when we had sex.

I never told her, but when I’d be ramming my cock in and out of her, it was the thought of her slipping those socks off and wiggling her pretty little toes in my face at the very final moment that always made me cum. I would cum particularly hard at the thought of her sucking her big toe into her mouth while she slid her dark olive labia open with her index and middle fingers, exposing her pink pussy.

She even kept her feet a secret once we were engaged despite request after request. It wasn’t until our wedding night that she relented. I slid her creamy stockings down her legs and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. I tried to tease myself, not to give myself away to her. I slid the material off her heel and exposed one foot and then the other. They weren’t as incredible as I’d thought they would be, but I still had the erection of a lifetime. I held her feet in my big hands as I spread her legs and filled her pussy with my tongue. I laced my fingers with her toes as I ate her out.

Several months passed and I noticed that I was becoming increasingly disappointed with the care (or lack of care) she gave her feet. They could be so sexy, but every time I suggested she go get a pedicure she’d just brush it off. So, I resigned to going back to toe-gazing on the train on the way to work and wishing winter wouldn’t come because the weather did not permit for the sandals and open-toed heels of summer, fall or spring.

It had been nearly a year since we were married when I met Vanessa’s  little sister, Olivia. Olivia was a new addition to her family (through her father’s second marriage) and had been away at college . She hadn’t even made it to the wedding because of finals and then she had spent the summer in South Asia, helping to build a school or something like that.

Vanessa said she was going to pick her up from the airport and go straight to work. She asked me to entertain her while she was gone. I agreed, but wasn’t looking forward to baby-sitting someone who was almost 10 years younger than me.

There was giggling at the doorway and then a thud on the door when they got back. I opened the door and there she was, a cutie with short hair, that same dark olive skin and pink, chubby cheeks. She was carrying 2 large bags and I helped her inside. Vanessa was gone, and I was working from home. I figured Olivia could entertain herself.

I sat down on the sofa to work at my laptop while I watched CNN, my usual habit. She walked in with a little polka-dotted bag in her hand and sat down on the other end of the sofa. She quietly began to set out the contents of her little bag on the coffee table. I caught in the corner of my eye a small, bright colored bottle. I turned my head a little to the side and almost dropped my computer.

She was setting up to give herself a pedicure. My first inclination was to watch her eagerly. And then the husband part of my brain told me to get off the sofa and go to another room. I tried to move, but my body was fused to the cushion. She slid her feet up on the sofa one at a time. They were already bare and even from the corner of my eye I could make out the smooth arches and perfectly symmetrical toes.

She started out by lotioning them up. The lotion smelled like coconut and filled the whole room. She slid her fingers around her ankles and between her toes. She worked it in for quite some time before she went for the polish. She leaned over her knees as she carefully applied the vivid pink polish on each of her toes. She was so careful and I couldn’t even hear her breathing. I didn’t even notice that I was barely breathing or that I had stopped typing since she had sat down. When she looked like she was about to leave, she instead moved so she was facing me and stuck one of her feet up to my face.

“Wanna help me blow on them? It makes them dry faster. I’ll blow on one while you blow on the other.

And she took her right foot up to her mouth and began to blow as the other one stayed perfectly straight and jutting right in my face. I remember feeling the head of my dick starting to swell and get hot as it pushed up against the underside of the laptop.

She said “please” in this really naughty way. I turned and began to blow, but I couldn’t look at her.

That night, Vanessa came home and I was lying on the bed, horny as fuck,  with just a pair of pajama pants on. I fucked her hard that night. Each time I came, my dick would start growing again with just the slightest recollection of the smell of the nail polish, the sound of the lotion against her skin, the giggle that came from her mouth when I started blowing on her feet.

I’m sure Olivia heard us fucking that night, and she must have known it was because of her.

The following day, she did it again. This time, instead of one color, she had 5 bottles out. Each one a different shade of pastel. She painted each of her sexy little toes a different color. They looked like a basket of Easter eggs. Again, she asked me to blow on her feet and again I did it. Again, Vanessa came home to a night of intense fuck sessions.

The third day, I waited for the toe painting session, but Olivia had gone out earlier in the morning. When she came home, she gave me a quick hello and went straight to her room, not to emerge again until dinner when Vanessa was already home.

She walked out of her room after I called her for dinner. She was wearing these small cotton shorts and a tight white tank top that really showed off her breasts and nipples. She came out barefoot, walking on her tiptoes across the linoleum to her seat next to me. It was somewhere between “pass the potatoes and “do you have any ice that I felt it. Her pretty foot up against mine. I handled it with the grace of a seasoned professional, but I nearly choked while her toes wiggled over my foot.

She talked about her day incessantly. How she had gone to see a friend and how they had gone to see a new documentary about film noir. As the conversation between Olivia and Vanessa progressed, she put my foot between her two feet and started pumping my foot like it was my cock. I was grateful that Vanessa was so entertained by Olivia’s story because I was going crazy and didn’t know quite how to extricate myself from the situation; I wasn’t sure that I wanted to either. This lasted for nearly 30 minutes until finally Olivia pulled a small envelope from under her bottom and handed it to Vanessa. Two tickets to that evening’s Cirque de Soleil performance. They both shrieked and hugged.

“I already called Mom. You can’t say no, she told Vanessa. They bolted from the table, leaving me with blue balls and a plate full of cold food.

Vanessa left within the hour and me and Olivia were left for the better part of an entire evening. She came out of the guest bedroom and I was sitting on the sofa.

“Hey, Olivia. What’re you to? I tried to play it cool.

“Nothin.’ Want to see what I bought today? I love to model.

I wanted to tell her I’d rather masturbate on her face, but I smiled and instead went with, “Sure I would.

She came out with four boxes. Shoe boxes.  She sat down with her tiny little white cotton shorts, crossing and un-crossing those legs as she slid on one pair of shoes after another. She wasn’t wearing panties and all of the shoes were open toe. She walked around in them and when she had slid off the last pair, she collapsed on the sofa next to me.

My heart was pounding. I wasn’t sure what I was about to do. I didn’t even have time to make a decision when she asked me to give her a foot massage. She slid her feet right on top of my dick.  The big brother got the better of me. “Olivia, I love your sister. I’m married and I know what you’re doing.

She looked over at me and smiled. “Pleeeeeease?

I sighed and agreed to a five minute massage. I tried to pull her pretty feet further from my dick, but she wasn’t having it. She wiggled them right on top of my erection as I rubbed her smooth, perfectly high arches and the skin between her soft toes. I didn’t realize it for quite some time, but I was licking my lips as she moaned and dug her head into the sofa pillows. I was working on the left one when she took her right one and put it right on my face. The skin was so warm and supple. Her feet smelled sweet like sugar and my balls tightened up as her big toe made its way to my mouth. I grabbed her foot.

“That’s enough, I told her in my sternest voice.

She giggled again and I almost grabbed her and kissed her right there.

“I know you don’t mean that.

“Yes, Olivia. I do.

“I love when you say my name. It sounds the way I imagine you’d say if it you were fucking me.

I had nothing but an astonished stare.

She continued. “You mean you don’t like it when I put my pretty toes in your face and on your cock? You don’t like it when I put them on your chest like this?

Her foot sat against my beating heart.

“And you mean you don’t like it when I put my pretty big toe in my pretty little mouth like this?

She slid that perfect, painted toe in her soft, warm little mouth. Her mouth, her polish and her pussy were all that same electric pink.

My mouth opened and a sigh-groan from some place I didn’t know about escaped. I cleared my throat and sat up, attempting to compose myself.

“I won’t tell,” she told me.

Apparently, these were the magic words because I grabbed that foot and shoved it right into my mouth, sucking and licking feverishly. I couldn’t believe how horny they made me. I stiffened my tongue and slid it up and down her arches, biting, nibbling the skin. I slowly sucked on each dainty, coconut-scented toe, drawing them in and out of my mouth as her head lolled back. I slid my hand up her thick thigh and it made its way into her little cotton shorts. She was soaked, like a river. My lips were wrapped around the base of her little toe as she pumped and pushed her pussy against my hand. I hadn’t felt this turned on in years if ever.

I grabbed her hand and encouraged her to masturbate for me as I took all five of her toes greedily into my mouth. She got up suddenly and ran to the kitchen. I watched her ass and her tits bounce as she came back with something in her hands. She had a whole bag of goodies. She had been planning on this (of course!). She let me suck her feet for another 30 seconds or so and then pulled things out of the bad one at a time.

“Time for dessert, she whispered.

She put chocolate sauce then whipped cream and then a hot red little cherry on top of her toes. I was going fucking crazy at this point. I couldn’t believe that this was happening to me. I grabbed her feet again as soon as she let me have them. I wanted to take every inch of her. I took both of her feet and started licking back and forth, eating up the Sundae she had just made for me. I managed to get all 10 toes into my mouth when my hand made its way to her hot pussy again. I could smell it. I took two of my fingers and pushed them inside of her, teasing her hole just a little, listening to the sound of her sopping pussy. She moaned and squealed as I used those seasoned fingers on someone who had clearly never felt such experienced hands. She squeezed her thighs together, pulling her luscious full titties out. She was fucking perfect. Those tits were to-die-for and so was her fire-hot cunt. She was so warm and round and cute. I was going to go to hell for this.

I grabbed her arms, her toes still in my mouth and pulled her onto her back. I was standing over her. She was panting and looking at me with anticipation. She hadn’t expected it to go this far, I could tell. I took her hand and put it on my erection. She touched it as I sucked with more vigor. I knew that each of the movements of my mouth went straight to her pussy. I had learned from an internet site that men who have a thing for feet really have a thing for the connection that feet have with the pussy; the two are hot-wired. I sucked her toe like it was her clit and she grabbed my dick even harder. I bit her and she squeezed the head. At this point in the game, I was so aroused that I nearly came from the tiny bit of stimulation.

I pushed her hand away. I should stop soon. The thought of fucking her had already crossed my mind. I should stop very, very soon.

It’s like she was reading my thoughts and she was not going to let it end. She reached forward, grabbing my zipper and un-doing my fly in almost one motion. My dick is pushing out of my boxers and I can’t believe she’s polishing my fucking knob with her soft hand. She tells me to lick her soles and then pulls her feet away. And I can’t tell you that I knew what was coming, but she sure as hell did. She must have watched a video for some of the shit she was about to do.

She grabbed my big, hard dick between those hot, wet arches and started to stroke them up and down, up and down. My head started to pound as she took her time. She looked right up at me with her naughty smile. Her legs made a diamond shape as she fucked me with her feet. She told me to spit on her feet when it was harder for her to slide with ease. I obliged. It was like I was in a trance while she fucked me with those hot, young, smooth, perfect feet. Her toes were making their way all over my purple head, playing with my pre-cum between her toes. I couldn’t believe it.

She turned around on her hands and knees and slid her shorts over her ass, showcasing her plump, engorged pussy lips between those thighs and her ass way up in the air. She looked back at me as she toyed with my cock even more with those feet, cradling the balls with one of her soles while she slid the other up and down the under side. I bent forward, smelling and tasting her pussy hole with the tip of my tongue. She tasted like lemons and cream. My cock was leaking all over those feet and I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed her ass and ate every inch of her asshole and cunt. Before I knew it she was pushing her ass back into my face while I fucked her hole with my tongue, all the while she didn’t let those feet get far from my dick.

I looked up at the clock. It had been almost two hours since we had started our little game. The panic started to set in and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to control it for much longer. I slid my tongue away from her, sitting down on the sofa and starting to compose myself. I was about to put my dick away when she asked me to finish inside of her.

I looked at her in sheer amazement. She was so horny. A woman hadn’t been horny for me like this in as long as I could remember. But she was like my sister and if I had crossed the line this evening, I could never redeem myself if I fucked her. She looked at me, wrapping her arms around my neck, shoving her tongue in my ear. She was begging me with every part of her body. It was so hot. I tried to stand up, but she kept me down. I guess I didn’t want to get up that badly. She knew she had me even as I tried to talk some sense into her. I was trying to get her to stop because I knew I couldn’t.

Mid-sentence, she pushes her mouth onto my dick. Holy Jesus. My hand is on the back of her head as she slides up and down, moaning and squirming. She’s so good. Her mouth is like velvet and she urges me to put my fingers in her again. I can’t resist showing off again and I go straight for that g-spot. She groans low and steady and her pussy muscles clamp down on my fingers. She’s doing it on purpose. She wants me to feel how tight her pussy can get. She looks up, “imagine what your dick would feel like in there, as she clamps down tighter than before.

She’s about to make me cum. I’m safe. If I cum in her mouth it’s not nearly as bad as if I cum in her pussy. I can feel my ass tightening up, my head plumping and flaring. She pops her mouth off and moves toward me. I fight her a little, but she manages to get on top. She thrusts those tits in my face and pushes my face into them. Her tits taste sweet like her toes. Her nipples are as hard as my dick. She grabs it by the base and pushes it against her pussy, sliding it between her lips. Holy fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can feel her wetness. I can feel her tightness, her hairy fucking pussy. She pushes me against her bare hole. I just have to thrust up and I’ll be deep inside of her. I wait. I wait. I can’t wait. I push up once and she nearly screams with pleasure-pain. I grab her round, full ass and push her up and down my dick while I suck her pretty titties.

“I want you to suck my toes while you cum, she says as she grabs my shoulders, pulling me on top of her. She slides her toes into my mouth as she looks down at my cock, wet and white with her pussy juice pumping her over and over. “Cum inside of me, please.

It’s that word again. I love it when women say please. I can feel the orgasm starting to come again. It’s like a roller coaster. I’m at the top and I can’t stop myself from falling for very much longer.

The noises and the sounds and the talking drive me crazy.

“I want you to cum in me with your bare cock. I want you to fill me up with your hot sperm. I want you to suck my toes while you fuck your wife’s little sister.

Crazy. Crazy. I’m pumping her and I don’t care what time it is. I don’t care if Vanessa walks through that door right now. I don’t care about anything but how hot and wet that pussy is. It’s got me. Her toes are in my mouth. They’re hot and wet with my saliva and it’s driving me crazy.

“Suck on your toe for me, I sputter.

She grabs it into her mouth in moments. She looks up at me with all of her feigned innocence and pulls it between her glossy, wet lips. I can’t control it. I groan as I feel the first squirt make its way inside. She moaning and writhing. I’m cumming and cumming. Five. Six. Seven squirts. I can’t even keep track. I cum and cum. She holds me inside of her until I am flaccid and then I slide out as the cum slips from inside her. She kisses my cheek as I lie on top of her.

“That was fun, she says with a giggle.

Virgie Tovar

Virgie Tovar is the author/editor of the upcoming fat positive anthology Hot &Heavy: Fierce Fat Girls on Life, Love and Fashion (Seal Press, November 2012). She holds an MA in Human Sexuality, is certified as a sex educator, and was voted Best Sex Writer by the Bay Area Guardian in 2008 for her first book, Destination DD: Adventures of a Brest Fetishist with 40DDs. After teaching Female Sexuality at UC Berkeley she went onto host The Virgie Show (CBS Radio) from 2007-2008. When she’s not teaching sexuality seminars or shimmying as her burlesque alter ego, Dulce de Lecherous, she is creating content for her video blog: Virgie Tovar’s Guide to Fat Girl Living. Virgie has been featured on Playboy Radio and Women’s Entertainment Television. She lives in San Francisco.

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