Message-ID: <541.repost$980813050159@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: twilight_blue@hotmail.com Subject: In Her Absence by Mistress Twilight Blue Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <6qclkf$rd3$1@nnrp1.dejanews.com> The following is one of my original erotic stories which I wish to share with all of you. It includes a little role-reversal and foot/high heel worship. If it pleases you, please let me know. You can find more of my work at my personal site at the address in my signature. Thanks!!! Erotically yours, Mistress Twilight Blue twilight_blue@hotmail.com http://members.tripod.com/~twilight_blue/index.html In Her Absence By Mistress Twilight Blue Martin was a loyal husband. He would never have thought about cheating on his beautiful wife, Brenda, nor would she think it against him. In fact, he was so devoted to her that he would often find it difficult to concentrate on anything else. He would think of that slender neck, her red hair which was even shorter than his own, shaved short in back yet styled light and fluffy on top. This style had always appealed to him, especially when his Beloved had started wearing hers that way. Her modelesue figure and bright green eyes were constant diversions as well as her soft, seductive voice with its lyrical Irish lilt. There was something that he had never mentioned to her, however and that was his interest... nay, obsession with her feet. Many times he had tried to pleasure her feet by rubbing them with perfumed oil after a long day in her job as an RN. She wore comfortable shoes, but still he knew they must have been sore and tired. She seemed annoyed with his efforts, uncomfortable that attention was being paid to what she felt was a dirty and unattractive part of her body. He was afraid to tell her that he was sexually aroused by the very sight of those wrinkly soles and pink toes that wiggled so playfully each time she took off stockings and shoes. He knew she would shudder at the thought that the aroma of her feet after a day of working was like an erotic perfume to him. He longed to share the desire that engulfed him when she would sit, cross-legged and dangle her high heels while they were sitting in church, exposing that delicious heel. He noted that on those Sundays, he couldn't tell her the first thing about the sermon when she had wanted to discuss it on the way home. He knew that her being a traditional woman would think an obsession with her size sevens to be an affront to all things decent and moral. Still he longed for her to know his heart. When the couple would go out, Martin would delight in glancing at the feet of other women, and fantasizing that they were the feet of his Brenda, and that she would suddenly be daring to the point of wearing the various styles of shoe that he so often saw in public. He pictured her in black riding boots, like the ones he saw on a woman in her 40's that had sat across from them at a local restaurant. He blushed as the tall blond at the mall noticed his gaze at her stockinged feet in high heeled sandals. He felt young again as the giggling high school girls, also at the mall, walked in their brown, leather sandals with starry-eyed boyfriends in tow. He longed for his attractive wife, sensitive to him in all other ways, to allow him to dress her feet in these various styles, to him so very sexy and then allow him to pleasure them while pleasuring himself by being the worshipper of her feet. It came to pass one day that he had a day off from his job as a software developer. The company for which he was currently programming had told them to cease all work while they re-evaluated the criteria for the project which was changing once again. As a result, he had a day at home with nothing in particular planned. After he got up and ate breakfast with Brenda, she went off to work with a passionate goodbye kiss at the door. He went back to bed and slept in until the sun through the bedroom window woke him. He wasn't sure what he would do today as he sat up on the side of the bed. Her rubbed his eyes and looked down on his feet. They were the rough, unnatractive feet of a man. He wondered what made the feet of his beloved and indeed all other women so appealing and yet made his own so repulsive to him. Just then, a monumental thought occurred to him; perhaps he could stimulate himself and satisfy his lust for her feet alone. He was in the mood for lovemaking much more often than she was and had grown accustomed to occasional secret masturbation because he knew how it would hurt her to find that he had been pleasuring himself without her around. She regarded masturbation as dirty, sinful behavior and would probably have him in for coundeling, confession and God knows what else if she knew he did it. He thought that it would be fruitless to tell her that he was always thinking of her when he did it, though it was true, because the repulsion would not be lessened. Still, this was a day off and a closet full of her shoes awaited his anxious tongue. It was to be a day he would not soon forget. Clothed only in his silky, red boxers, he wandered into the bedroom closet in which there was her immense collection of shoes. They lay before him in various colors and styles, shoes which he had bought for her, but she only wore to church or formal evenings out. His favorites were a pair of 3 inch black patent leather pumps that shined in even the slightest amount of light. They kept her little feet in a near tiptoe position, causing her already firm, elegant legs to look even more toned and sexy. She had wore them only once and that was not for a very long period of time. She had complained that they were too high and a little too big. His feet were only slightly larger than hers and for fun, he thought he might try them on. He tried them on and they were a little snug, but he liked the feel of them on his feet and liked even more the stirring in his boxers that this strange new sensation was causing. Knowing that he had all day to do what he liked, Marin then grabbed all of the shoes, like a child dumping over his toy chest and threw them in a pile on the floor. Gleefully, he pulled down his restrictive boxers, removing them from his ankles and over the high heels he wore and discarded them on the floor. He then lay down on the floor, surrounded by the sensual footwear and inhaled that familiar aroma, magnified by the number of shoes she had only occasionally wore, along with her favorites, a pair of blue flat dress shoes. He grasped one of the blue shoes and raised it to his nostrils. The pungent smell excited him wildly, causing his already stiff member to throb with heated anticipation. He hadn't even touched it yet! With the blue flat in one hand and still wearing the patent pumps, he opened her dresser drawer and found her wads of stockings there free for the borrowing. He had always wondered if it felt as sexy to wear the stockings as it felt to see legs and feet in them. He took off the heels and pulled on a silky pair of black thigh highs, also a present from him which she had never, to his knowledge, worn. Putting the heels back on, he felt another new and erotic sensation, more potent than the heels alone. His legs felt covered and bound, yet exposed to the cool breeze entering the bedroom window as well. He was strangely aroused by the sight of his hard cock next to these feminine stockings and knew that he was almost ready to begin those beloved spasmodic spurts without ever touching himself, something never before accomplished. He was just lying down on the bed with a tissue in his hand to catch the flow, when with horror he heard the door open. "Honey, I'm home for lunch! Thought I'd surprise you!" she called as she came down the hallway. He was trapped, there was nowhere to hide and no explanation to give other than the obvious. As she entered the bedroom, she first saw the floor cluttered with shoes. Then she glanced up at Martin on the bed and held her hand over her lips in shock. "Brenda, honey... I..." He was scanning his brain for something to say. "Don't worry, baby." She said, suddenly very calm and with a seductive smile. "I've fantasized about you in drag ever since we met. I was afraid to tell you it was my fantasy to have you driving your long, hard cock into me while wearing the stockings and shoes of a woman. How about we skip lunch and have a little 'quality time.'" She winked. He was shocked, but excited about this revelation. She stripped and mounted him, appaently already moist from the vision of her man in hose and heels. She rode his prick and moaned out loudly, encouraging him with breathy terms of endearment, though she did all the work. After countless thrusts into her nest of pleasure, his head swelling so large he thought it would burst, they came in waves of orgasmic joy. As they cuddled in the afterglow, she asked him, had he ever kept anything sexual from her, beside this. He finally confessed, as he held her naked body next to his that he had always desired to worship her delicate feet and pleasure himself with them. She turned so the her size sevens gripped his once-again firm organ and began to stroke it up and down, the shaft still moist with their collective juices. "Like this?" she said with a girlish grin. As he grunted an "Oh, yesss!!!" at the pleasure of his beloved's wondrous toes on his erect cock, he heard her phone one of her assistant nurses. "Sorry, I won't be back from lunch. There are some things at home that need my immediate attention." As his second load of happiness fired onto the toes and soles of his beloved, she said, "I have another confession to make, dear. I really want to watch you masturbate with one of my flats! I would also love for you to suck my toes while you do it!" And so went the day that their inhibitions were loosed and their long hidden sensual sides knew no limits. Let it simply be said of Brenda and Martin, that they made full use of their day off and every spare moment thereafter. 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