I was in California for three months, doing some contract work for one of the high-tech outfits in Silicon Valley. The money was great, the work was interesting, and the weather was fabulous compared to England. On the downside, I was working crazy hours, didn't really know anyone, and didn't have much of a social life. On this day I left work around seven, and stopped off at the supermarket to get a few things on my way back to my rented apartment. I was still busy thinking about my work problem, pushing the trolley round on autopilot, barely noticing the other people doing the same as me. I rounded the corner at the end of the aisle and almost walked into another customer. I smiled an apology as I swerved. Suddenly in the corner of my eye, something grabbed my attention. My near-miss was a woman in her mid-thirties, dressed very conventionally in rather dull business clothes - dark grey wool trousers, lighter grey jacket, attractive enough as far as her face and figure went. But what had caught my attention was that with this, she seemed to be barefoot. My head jerked for a closer look. She wasn't really barefoot, she was wearing a very flimsy pair of pink plastic beach flip-flops. She had beautiful feet, just perfectly proportioned, with cherry red toenails, the whole perfectly set off by her sandals. They could easily have been tawdry, but on her, combined incongruously with her business suit, the effect was just the reverse. I forced myself to look away, smiled again, and walked on.
As I wandered round, distractedly grabbing odd things from the shelf, I could not get this image out of my head. Once or twice I saw her from a distance, passing the end of an aisle, and was struck again by the sexy effect of this odd combination. Involuntarily I felt myself becoming a little hard. I headed for the freezer section, to pick up a frozen dinner for the evening. As I was pondering which of them looked the least unappetizing, she walked up beside me. I couldn't help myself, I stared again at her naked feet. She turned towards me, half-smiled, and said "Hi... you OK?". I blushed and said, "Oh hi. You... er, I hope you don't mind, but you have really pretty feet". I'd already learned that in America - unlike England - you can say things like this to total strangers, without inviting a slap in the face or worse. Sure enough... "Why, thanks", she said. She paused, turned away, then turned back to me. "You know, I have to wear heels to work, I hate them. As soon as I get out I change into these. And you know, I think I have pretty feet too." I just love the way Americans will strike up a conversation like this. She laughed, a lovely rippling, slightly nervous laugh. "I think they're gorgeous, just perfect. I love the way it all goes together", I replied. Boy, was I aroused.
She gave me a strange, sideways look. She almost whispered, "If you like them so much... would you like to kiss them?" Would I just? I looked around, there was nobody in sight in our corner of the shop. I dropped to my knees and brought my head to the level of her feet. Cautiously I kissed the toes on one foot, then the other. I was hesitant because in the back of my mind I wondered what was going on. Was she suddenly going to scream that I'd attacked her? But she didn't, she made a very slight move of her foot towards me, enough to encourage me to continue. So now I took the plunge and kissed her with real passion, pressing my lips to her skin, then daring to push my tongue between her toes. She tasted wonderful, a mixture of saltiness, a hint of perfumed talc, and just enough of the earthy taste of her body to make it interesting. As I moistened her flesh and pressed my lips against her, I could feel her reaction, the counter-pressure of her toes against my mouth. I thrust my tongue harder between her toes, and she wriggled them in response. She was obviously enjoying this as much as I was. I ran my tongue along the top of her foot, then around to the side and back along the edge of the sole, feeling the little wrinkles here and the slightly stronger body taste, before plunging my tongue back between her toes again. I felt her legs start to tremble.
Suddenly I heard the rattle of a trolley. Just in time, I moved my head and with amazing presence of mind pushed my arm under the freezer. As a rather large woman appeared round the corner, I withdrew my arm, fist clutched, stood up, and said, "Thank goodness, I found it". I hoped that the enormous bulge in my trousers was not too visible. The trolley rattled on, out of earshot. "My God", she said breathlessly, "that was fantastic. I'm all wet."
"My pleasure", I replied. Plucking up my courage, I continued, "Is there anywhere else you'd like a little kiss?"
"Wait for me outside", she replied.
So I finished my shopping - which didn't take long - put it in my car, and waited at the exit. A few minutes later she appeared, pushing her trolley, her cute flip-flops flipping and flopping behind it. "Just a minute, wait here", she said, and carried on over to her car. She returned, without the trolley, and without speaking again she set off along the front of the building. She led me around a corner, until eventually we were in a little alcove off an alleyway. She turned around to face me. "Please do that again", she said. I dropped to my knees again, oblivious to the grubby tarmac that wrecked a good pair of trousers, and pressed my mouth to her feet again. Once again I started with a kiss, then ran my tongue between her toes, then kissed around her whole foot, feeling and tasting the subtle variation in the texture of her skin, the tiny hairs along the top. I pressed my tongue into the tight space between her sole and the thin plastic sandal, feeling the harder skin of her sole. The blend of smells and tastes was more exotic and arousing than ever. She pressed her feet against my willing lips.
When I had covered both her pretty feet with kisses, she said quietly, "Can I have that little kiss somewhere else now please?". She undid her pants and slid them down, and I raised my head to press my mouth to the smooth white cotton of her panties, nuzzling her sex through them. They were a little damp and I could smell her excitement. I pulled them down over her bottom, down to her knees where her pants were, and gently opened her legs up. She put her hands down and opened herself up for me, and I pressed my mouth to her sex. She smelled wonderful, clean, but not too clean, excited and just a tiny sharp tang of her urine. I closed my lips around her and pressed my tongue between her inner lips, lapping at her juices and parting them, darting my tongue into her cunt, stealing her taste from inside her. Then I moved my tongue upwards, to lap at her clit, moving my tongue from side to side, up and down, squeezing her inner lips with my lips. She started to thrust and squirm, I held her bare bottom and pulled her onto my mouth, massaging her cheeks as I licked at her rock-hard button. She grabbed at my head and pulled me against her too. Within a very short time she was writhing in pleasure, barely suppressing her cries as I continued to lick at her. Then she released my head, tugged at my shoulders, and we kissed for a moment before she dropped in turn to her knees. She opened my zip, pulled out my throbbing erection, and put her mouth around it. She obviously knew what she was doing, the pleasure was exquisite but all too short after my own excitement licking her. She bobbed back up again, giving me a kiss with her cum-filled mouth before swallowing and kissing me some more.
We each tidied ourselves up. I couldn't resist asking, "Did I get the right place?". "My God, that was great", she said. "You probably won't believe this, but I've never done anything like this before." We both hesitated a bit then. "What next?" was the obvious question on both our minds. "Come on", she said, "Back to my place before we cool off." Thank goodness for that! We drove back to her apartment, as quickly as we dared, threw each other onto her bed, and fucked like crazy for hours. When we'd finished, I kissed her feet and nibbled at her toes as she dozed, wriggling with pleasure in her half sleep.
This isn't a happily-ever-after story though. We did see each other a few times, and the sex was a lot of fun, but we weren't really all that compatible apart from our mutual agreement that her feet were just the prettiest around. And then I came back to England. I still live in hope that one day, I'll turn a corner in the supermarket and see some bare feet emerging teasingly from some rather dull everyday clothes. But it would never be the same again.