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“Stockings,” she said sharply, hoping it was the right choice.
“Yes, Mistress, sorry.”
Placing his mouth at the lacy top of her stocking, he carefully gripped the rubbery elastic with his teeth and pulled. As soon as the stocking top was mid-thigh, he let it go, and it slipped down to her ankle. Then he sat back with his eyes lowered.
Stella panicked.
What was he doing?
Silence permeated the room.
“Permission to remove the other one, Mistress?” he finally murmured.
“That took you long enough,” she exclaimed, relieved he’d asked and just as pleased she’d thought of her response.
“Sorry, Mistress.”
“Permission granted, but next time, don’t keep me waiting or you’ll be punished.”
The threat had popped into her head, and she wasn’t sure what she’d do if the moment ever came.
“Yes, Mistress.”
As he began to remove the second stocking, Tony’s advice rang through her head.
Always make it his fault. No matter what happens, if something goes wrong, it’s his fault.
“You can show me how sorry you are by worshipping my feet,” she continued, the action moving.
Letting out a long, deep groan as he slipped the stocking over her foot, he held her ankle and lapped her toes. Tony had told her this part of their meeting would take up most of the hour, and if he went too fast she should slow him down. But she didn’t have to. He was languid and methodical, apparently relishing every minute.
She let her mind wander.
But it wandered for only a short time.
She found herself closing her eyes and enjoying the depraved attention.
It had never occurred to her that she might love the feel of someone sucking her toes, but she did. A lot. She was even tempted to drop her fingers between her legs and rub her clit. She resisted, but the kinky, provocative play was arousing her.
Forcing herself to stay focused on Tony’s outline, every few minutes she would order Matt to strip off an article of clothing, then return to her toes, or massage her feet and calves. When Matt was finally naked, she instructed him to rest on his haunches and masturbate, but he wasn’t allowed to climax until she gave permission. He groaned and moaned, and each time he claimed he couldn’t hold back his orgasm another minute, she laughed and gave him another instruction, continuing the erotic tease until the hour was almost up.
“All right, sweet boy, now we’ll see if you need to come as much as you claim. I’m going to count to ten, then you’ll squirt all over my pretty feet.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Matt sputtered.
“But remember, not until I reach ten!”
“Yes, Mistress, I’ll do your bidding, I promise.”
As he grabbed his cock and stared down at her feet, Stella began wiggling her toes, watching Matt pant and moan as she counted off each number. By the time she reached eight, he was puffing loudly. At nine, his body became rigid. “Ten!” she exclaimed. “Now, Matt.”
Letting out a series of deep groans, his hot essence spewed forth and landed in large, white droplets over her feet, continuing until his orgasmic cries finally came to an end.
“Thank you, Mistress Marilyn,” he mumbled breathlessly, keeping his eyes lowered as he spoke.
But her feet were a mess.
She wasn’t sure what to do, but spying a folded hand towel on the bar, she picked it up and dropped it in front of him.
