The Toes That Bind
Date: 17.06.2009
Keywords: Toes, The, Bind, That,
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Lynn was running late. She'd overslept and had to rush to work. She arrived at her office with minutes to spare, and even though she got there on time, she was exasperated. She'd had to throw herself together and drive faster than she liked to. And even when she got to work, things didn't seem to be going right. She momentarily misplaced her office key in her purse, she'd found two memos in her "IN" basket that she knew were coming and dreaded reading, and in her rush she found she'd forgotten some important papers and she knew she'd have to go home at lunch time to get them. She was not a happy camper.
And her woes seemed determined to continue. It being a chilly morning, Lynn had put on the first warm footwear she came across in her bedroom, her last minute rushing precluding a more thorough search. And so it was that she'd put on her tight fitting knee high boots. She'd meant to return them because they were just a touch too small and uncomfortable on her feet. But who ever had the time? And so it was that in her haste, she'd forced her feet and calves into those confining boots, relying on the fact that she could always take them off when she got to her office, where she always kept a spare pair of heels if she needed them. Or she could always go shoeless as long as she sat at her desk. She could switch her boots for other shoes when she went home at noon for those papers she'd forgotten.
However, it seemed that even the tiniest pleasures were to be denied her, for when she sat in her office chair and went to pull down the zipper on her boot, it got stuck. She tugged on it, stretching and twisting her boot, but to no avail. She gritted her teeth and pulled and yanked on the stubborn zipper. Nothing.
It was just at the point where the four letter words were about to erupt from between her clenched teeth that Michael happened by. He had arrived early to catch up on some paperwork when he strolled past Lynn's office and saw her valiant struggle with the obstinate zipper. Lynn was grumbling and battling furiously with it and never even noticed Michael was there.
He stood in her doorway and watched her, smiling. At length, Lynn sat back, exhausted and exasperated, slumping back in her chair and blowing her disheveled hair out of her eyes. She sighed loudly and was preparing for round two when she glanced upward and saw Michael's amused look as he peered down at her.
"Having a problem?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah, " she smiled sheepishly up at him, "this damn zipper is trying to drive me insane. I just can't get it to cooperate. But, then, this seems to be the day for it."
"Would you like a little assistance?" he asked, leaning against the door frame.
"Please," she replied, holding her leg up with her boot out to him, "be my guest."
Michael walked over and knelt down in front of her. He braced the sole of her boot on his knee and held the top of her boot with one hand. Grabbing the zipper firmly in the fingers of his other hand, he gave a mighty tug. Nothing. Then he jiggled the zipper and gave another tug. Same outcome. The zipper seemed to be taunting them both.
Michael pondered the situation. As he did, the hand holding the top of her boot seemed to take on a life of its own. Without even knowing he was doing it, the three fingers that were curled down inside her boot started to caress the silky smoothness of her nylon covered calf. Michael didn't notice it......but Lynn did. She almost said something to him, but then realized that he was unaware he was even doing it. So she just smiled and went back to thinking about the problem at hand. Michael adjusted himself, getting down on both knees, hoping the new position and better balance would bring about a different outcome to the situation.
Michael thought about trying to get her boot off by simply pulling it off her foot, but then realized that the boot was entirely too tight on her foot and calf for that to work. With a sigh, he began to think that his chivalrous gesture was for naught. But then, when he tried one final, gentle, nonchalant pull on the zipper... amazingly....it glided down its tooth-lined path as if it had never been stuck! Both Michael and Lynn stared in wonder. They looked at each other, eyes wide in disbelief.
Taking on the air of someone who knew all along he'd solve the problem, Michael removed the boot completely from Lynn's appreciative foot and calf, set it down on the floor, placed her now happy foot on his knee and spread his arms outward, saying, "Voila! Your foot has been rescued, Milady." He then added, smugly, "Nothing to it."
"Oh, well, then, if it's that easy....here." Grinning, she held out her other booted foot, joking. But, to her surprise, Michael braced it on his other knee, grabbed the zipper, and this time easily unzipped her boot. He then slid it effortlessly off her foot and placed it next to her other, less cooperative boot. He placed her second happy foot on his unoccupied knee, and now had Lynn's two relieved tootsies on his knees, toes wiggling in their new- found freedom.
Relieved, but somewhat surprised, Lynn exclaimed, wide-eyed, "Well, thank you, Michael....you're a real sweetie. Those boots were killing my poor feet."
"I noticed they were kinda tight," he said, "so explain to me why you'd want to wear such uncomfortable shoes to work in the first place."
Lynn sighed, sat back in her chair and groaned as she recounted in her head the morning's events so far. She rolled her eyes up, wiped her forehead dramatically, and said, "Michael, it's a long, sad story. Let's just say I was a little rushed this morning."
"Oh, I gotcha....been there." They both laughed.
As they talked and laughed, neither noticed Michael's hands gently rubbing Lynn's insteps and the bottom third of her calves. Eventually, his hands settled with his fingers wrapped around the back of her calves at her heels and his thumbs stroking her outer ankles on each foot.
The two talked for a bit, and Michael just stayed there on the floor on his knees, Lynn's feet resting comfortably on his thighs now, and his warm hands gently caressing the tops and sides of her nylon-covered feet. His warm hands felt great on her feet, which, even though they'd been confined in the tight boots, were nonetheless cool because of the chilly air outside, and Michael's hands rubbing them made it feel as though she'd taken off her boots and put her feet by a nice, warm fire.
"Mmmmm..," Lynn sighed, "that feels great."
Michael looked up at her, eyes questioning. He still didn't realize he was rubbing her feet. Lynn lifted her feet off of his thighs about an inch or so to stretch and wiggle her toes, and, not missing a beat, Michael's hands slid up to the front of those chilly feet and started to knead and rub her toes. The warmth of it made Lynn smile from ear to ear and sigh audibly. It was only then that Michael looked down and saw what he was doing. His eyes got wide with surprise...and he blushed.
"Oh....geez......um, Lynn.....I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take liberties. I mean....I wasn't trying......I mean... really....I wasn't....I wouldn't...."
"Michael, relax.....you're only rubbing my feet. And doing a fine job of it, I might add. Your hands feel great. I didn't realize just how cold and sore my feet were. Don't stop rubbing on my account." Then she smiled and added, "So far, it's the only thing that's gone right today."
"Well," he still stammered a bit, "I still shouldn't have taken the liberty...I mean, I should've asked permission. I mean, honest...I didn't even realize I was doing it....I swear."
"Permission?" she said, amazed at the comment, "to rub my feet?" She stifled a giggle, looked at him down there on his knees still rubbing her feet, leaned forward to him, and enunciated her following words, making sure he could hear them loudly and clearly, "Michael......dear boy......tell you what. You never have to ask permission to rub my feet. You feel free to massage my achy tootsies any time you like.....okay?"
It was then that things took a turn for both of them. When Lynn looked down to watch Michael gently rub his palms and fingertips along her insteps and the sides of her feet while his thumbs worked at the pads and bases of her jubilant toes, she noticed something. She was sure she was right. She put her hand over her mouth to stifle another giggle as she saw the definite bulge pressing against the fly of Michael's pants. That bulge was only inches from her wiggling toes and she had the sudden urge to play with that bulge with her feet. But all she did was look back upward to Michael's face. It was flushed with more than just embarrassment now. And not only that, but he now had her feet propped up on his thighs by the heels and was using his thumbs to knead the tired and tender flesh of her soles and high arches. And his eyes were now riveted on her feet.
Lynn just sat there watching Michael soothe her feet. But it was his eyes that most held her attention, for they darted over her feet, obviously admiring them as he rubbed. He was smiling and sighing as his talented hands moved from place to place, soothing as they went. Between the look in his eyes and the smile on his lips, Lynn could tell that Michael was very much enjoying massaging her feet. And the bulge roaring proudly at his crotch told her that he not only enjoyed rubbing her feet.....but he enjoyed her feet themselves. My God, she thought, he's actually getting turned on by my feet!!!
She wasn't sure what to do. Michael's hands were making her feet tingle with joy. And that look in his eyes, and that proud, straining member.....Michael wasn't even trying to talk anymore. He was just rubbing and admiring her feet. He mixed comforting massage with soft, gentle fondling as his hands explored her silky feet. And Lynn found herself amazed at something. She was actually enjoying his reaction to her feet. The way he looked at them and touched them pleased her no end. She couldn't believe the effect her feet were having on this younger man (Lynn, approaching fifty, was ten years Michael's senior).
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Keywords: Toes, The, Bind, That,