A Day At The Beach
It was early in spring, and an uncharacteristically warm day. I decided to go to the beach near my home in the late afternoon, for one last time before summer hit, and the people swarmed like lazy ants. The beach is small, and in summer gets terribly crowded. It is known to and used by mainly locals, and a day this early in the season meant I had the place all to myself, or so I thought
I ambled along the empty beach shoes and socks off cargo pants rolled up to my knees feeling the chill of the early spring tide washing over my feet, the suck of the wet shoreline against my soles. Suddenly a sharp breeze snatched the cap from my head lifting it high before crashing it cartwheeling across the sand.
She sat, reading a book, wiggling her toes in the cool sand. She wore black capri pants, those ending at the knee, and as she dug her feet in the sand, I watched her calves bulge and flex with noticeable muscle. The fickle wind tired of its games with my cap deposited it on her buried toes. Toes, painted bright red, poked out of the sand, the tendons flowing behind them to her slender ankles. Pinching my cap between her scrunched toes she lifted her leg and dangled the cap hypnotically in front of my face
You better hold on to your hat boy” she purred seductively , laden with innuendo.
“Erm..errrr ..Yes, I better..err ..my names Ade pleased to meet you” I blurted out nervously
“You can call me Bubble” She said with quiet confidence
We made small talk, she was wiggling her gorgeous toes as we did, I felt her eyes burn into my soul, noticing my eyes averting to her wrinkled creamy soles and soft painted toes every so often, I was fidgeting, as if uncomfortable. She was reeling me in slowly an expert in manipulating men.
"Mmmmmmm, this sand feels nice on my nasty sweaty feet!" She laughed, putting both heels in the sand, her toes spread and wiggling at me only a couple feet away.
"No, they're not nasty!" I said, too emphatically, catching myself. "I mean...they're...lovely...I'm sorry, I shouldn't..."
"No, you should!" Bubble corrected me firmly. "A woman, loves compliments, and even about her feet. So you think they're OK?"
"Oh yes!" I gushed, again a little too enthused. "I mean...you know..."
"So Adey, are you a lover of female feet?" She giggled, her nose wrinkling, brushing wind-swept purple hair out of her twinkling eyes. "Are you?" a mischief danced like fire behind her blue eyes.
"Uh....I think...I guess..." I stammered.
"You think, you guess," She said impatiently. "Either you are or you aren't. So are you?"
"Yes!" I blushed. "Not sure why..."
"Tell me,” She said firmly, directing me where she knew intuitively he wanted to go. "Does your mother have feet like mine?"
He blinked, astonished. "Well, uh, my mom's feet..."
"Do you massage her tired old feet for her?" She said pointedly. "Do you?"
I looked, wide eyed. "How...well...yes, once in a while, if she asks, I mean she works hard, she's on them all day...and..."
"Be a darling and massage mine…boy." She sighed, removing her sunglasses in the gathering dusk to look at him, her blue eyes flashing. "Let's see how good you are at it."
"Right...here? Right..now?" I asked, looking around.
"Darling, there's no one here," Bubble laughed. "Now kneel down and massage my feet!"
"Uh...OK," I said nervously, kneeling before me as I lifted my right foot to his trembling hands, resting the heel on his left thigh. "Um...OK Bubble?"
"You can call me....Mom!" She said, caught up in the naughtiness of the moment, much to his wide-eyed astonishment.
"But..."
She lifted that foot off his thigh and brought it to his face, the wrinkled sole inches from his nose and open eyes and mouth.
"Trust me...boy...it'll be worth your while," Bubble hissed, bending and straightening her toes, unleashing a flex of wrinkled flesh beneath her foot, my eyes glued to it. "Now massage Mom's foot!"
"Yes...." I said as I rested it back on my leg , my hands circled it, digging into the tight flesh, rubbing the instep and sole.
"Yes..what?" She asked sternly, suddenly lifting her foot up and gently slapping my face with it.
"Yes MOM!" I groaned excitedly, as she lowered her foot to my thigh again.
I stared down at her foot, my thumbs kneading the sole so deeply, Bubble groaned her hands desperately making their way in through the waistband of her Capri pants started a secret massage of their own. My strong fingers massaging her delicious arch at the same time. Bubble brought the other foot to my thigh and now I did both at once, lavishing attention on the wrinkled creamy soles and insteps and then, one by one, pulling gently on each soft fleshy toe, rolling them between thumbs and index fingers, Bubble moaned softly savouring every second.
"My, my, my, boy of mine, you do your other mother's feet justice, you're rather good at this!" She said breathlessly, her thighs clenched together, putting pressure on the jewel at the top of her thighs. "Keep it up, boy...harder...there, that's it....what about my toes? Do you like Mommy's toes, son? You like the shiny paint on the nails?"
"Yesssss, Mom!" I groaned, caught up in the moment.
She smiled -- and moved her heels to my groin, feeling hardness through my ever more uncomfortable cargo pants. My eyes shot open wide and I stopped massaging her teasing feet.
"I didn't tell you to stop, boy!" She snapped, thrusting her shapely legs out and crushing my man gems, making me wince in pain. "Keep rubbing mom's feet!"
"Yesss, Mom!" I groaned again, in pleasure and pain as she rubbed her heels harder into my crotch, feeling my hardening member against her feet.
"Massage my calves, they need attention, too, do it!" she said.
My hands reached for her supple lower legs exposed in capri pants and kneaded the tired muscles, my fingers digging into the soft, slightly wrinkled, brown flesh, my eyes drinking in the sight of those curvy, tanned calves that felt like silk and steel. I moaned deeply as I worked, the tightness in my belly felt as if it would explode through my loins. I licked my lips, my mouth getting dry , through the hoarse breathing, as I lost control at her perfect feet.
She suddenly brought the right foot up to my left shoulder, I turned his gaze to the calf, which she bulged by flexing and pointing her toes.
"You've done well," she hissed. "Now suckle Mommy's curvy calf! Do it!"
I groaned and attached my mouth to the thickening muscle of her right calf, holding it in both hands, suckling the meat of it, tonguing the wrinkled flesh, massaging it with my lips and hands, then running my tongue over every salty inch, up to the inside of her knee and back down again. She lifted the other foot to my other shoulder and I repeated my tongue massage on that calf, licking up and down, ingesting the flesh, mouthing it in big gulps and slobbering my hot tongue over what I'd sucked into my lips. Bubbles supple fingers made the stretched material of her Capri pants, look like the rolling of an ocean just before the storm…. Her toes clenched and pointed as the storm broke her calves closing around my neck and squeezing me in the muscles of them as she shuddered, groaned deeply and relaxed.
she pulled her slender fingers out, still holding my neck in her calves, and brought them to my nose.
"Smell Mommy's juices!" She ordered me.
I did, like a man starving for air, inhaling deeply and groaning at the thick, musty aroma of her jewel. She then pushed her exquisite fingers into my mouth, my hot tongue cleaning them, swallowing her jewel juices. She released the scissoring calves from my neck and lifted her feet to my face.
"Have at them, boy," she laughed. "You've earned it."
I went wild; holding her feet to my face, ramming it into them, smelling the soles, then up between her sweet crimson toes, inhaling the sweaty, acrid aroma of a day trapped in stockings and high heeled shoes at work. I moaned, licking now, from her heels up the creamy wrinkled soles to the toes, and between them, eyes rolling over white in my face, my tongue feasting on the grit and sweat between them like it were caviar, then sucking each fleshy toe in my mouth, tongue washing the slippery, painted nails. I took my time, licking madly, sucking, probing with my mouth, lips and tongue and she shuddered and moaned again, even without touching herself this time, just feeling my hot mouth on her sexy feet. She held her legs up behind the knees, watching me slave, watching me adore her feet, and watched my hand sneak to my crotch to paw at the tight bulge in my cargo pants.
"How dare you!" Bubble snapped in mock anger, trapping my neck in her solid calves again, twisting her feet together behind me and squeezing so hard so fast my face turned red in her grip. "Did I TELL you to touch yourself ….dirty boy? No, I did not!"
She squeezed me a moment longer, my hands pulling at her shins locked around my throat, my eyes heavy lidded, I felt on the verge of fainting in her calf scissors. She smiled victoriously and eased the squeeze.
"Now, that's MOMMY'S job!" Bubble hissed. "Take it out. Now, boy, now!"
I groaned, fumbling with my fly and pulling my pants down a bit, a gorgeous, thick tube of man meat springing out, dripping wet from the head. She smiled. And dropped her feet to my face.
"Lick Mommy's feet, get them nice and wet," she hissed.
I did, groaning, slavishly tonguing the sweet, salty curves of her instep, soaking them. She dropped them down, scissoring my swollen manhood in them and my back arched in ecstasy as I moaned loudly. As she stroked me up and down, jerking me off clasped in her divine feet I felt weak as if she were milking the life out of me.
"Lean back, boy, let Mommy's feet work their magic," she mocked.
I did, leaning back on my haunches, giving her every hard inch to play with, to own, her soft creamy soles and crimson toes playing with me, teasing me, milking me, stroking madly, up and down, the muscles in her killer calves flexing as I watched them helplessly in her power and her beautiful feet and painted toes, all of it becoming a blur in my mind, as my man gems tightened beneath her creamy soles slapping down on them.
"Listen hard boy, let go on Mommy's feet, NOW!" She commanded, jerking me harder and faster, her feet flying up and down, her heels pounding my aching suffering balls. "Give Mommy's feet your load, NOW!"
On cue, I moaned, a long shuddering breath and we both watched thick, arcing jets of hot sweet juice explode from my foot-teased member and leave sticky ropes the length of her shins and calves, soaking them, the hot fluid running down them, coating the flexing muscle, and the remaining ribbons of juice sheeting down over my manhood to form a thick blanket of cream on her softly pumping feet.
From her tanned knees to plump fleshy toes, there was a thick layer of clumped juice, and as her feet slowed their pumping action, I was panting heavily and ragged like a man shipwrecked who had found his way to the beach.
She lifted one foot to my sweaty face, smiling. I wasn't. I feared what she would do with me next.
"Lick Mommy's feet clean, boy!" She ordered me. "You made that disgusting mess, you clean it up!"
I was too far gone to disobey and trembling, I snaked my tongue out tentatively to lap at the creamy mess on her toes. Impatiently, she reached for my head with her hand and rammed my mouth to her foot, stuffing the toes, all five of them, into my sucking mouth.
"Eat it, boy, now!" She growled, as she watched me ingest every sweet ounce of my juice from her toes.
She had me suck them clean, then the instep and sole of that foot, then run my tongue through the glistening sheen of my ball brew lining her shiny shin and muscular calf. When that leg was done, she made me do the other and by the end, as her legs, feet and toes shone with spit instead of juice, she pulled my face to her jewel and squeezing my head in her thighs bade me lick for her pleasure, crushing my skull and grinding her jewel into my mouth. By the time she was done, I was red and near fainting again and she released me, watching me flop back to the sand, my wilting wet member comically sticking in the air.
She laughed, standing up and slipping her tongue wet feet back into her sandals, packing up her book and chair as I lay on my back, drained and exhausted, looking up at her. Bubble put her sunglasses back on and looked down at me. She knew she owned me now.
"Thank Mommy," she sneered.
I got to my knees, bending to kiss her feet, mumbling my thanks.
"Next warm day, I better see you here again, boy," she laughed, slapping my face away with her foot and walking away, feeling my hungry gaze on her peachy arse in those tight Capri pants.
I ambled along the empty beach shoes and socks off cargo pants rolled up to my knees feeling the chill of the early spring tide washing over my feet, the suck of the wet shoreline against my soles. Suddenly a sharp breeze snatched the cap from my head lifting it high before crashing it cartwheeling across the sand.
She sat, reading a book, wiggling her toes in the cool sand. She wore black capri pants, those ending at the knee, and as she dug her feet in the sand, I watched her calves bulge and flex with noticeable muscle. The fickle wind tired of its games with my cap deposited it on her buried toes. Toes, painted bright red, poked out of the sand, the tendons flowing behind them to her slender ankles. Pinching my cap between her scrunched toes she lifted her leg and dangled the cap hypnotically in front of my face
You better hold on to your hat boy” she purred seductively , laden with innuendo.
“Erm..errrr ..Yes, I better..err ..my names Ade pleased to meet you” I blurted out nervously
“You can call me Bubble” She said with quiet confidence
We made small talk, she was wiggling her gorgeous toes as we did, I felt her eyes burn into my soul, noticing my eyes averting to her wrinkled creamy soles and soft painted toes every so often, I was fidgeting, as if uncomfortable. She was reeling me in slowly an expert in manipulating men.
"Mmmmmmm, this sand feels nice on my nasty sweaty feet!" She laughed, putting both heels in the sand, her toes spread and wiggling at me only a couple feet away.
"No, they're not nasty!" I said, too emphatically, catching myself. "I mean...they're...lovely...I'm sorry, I shouldn't..."
"No, you should!" Bubble corrected me firmly. "A woman, loves compliments, and even about her feet. So you think they're OK?"
"Oh yes!" I gushed, again a little too enthused. "I mean...you know..."
"So Adey, are you a lover of female feet?" She giggled, her nose wrinkling, brushing wind-swept purple hair out of her twinkling eyes. "Are you?" a mischief danced like fire behind her blue eyes.
"Uh....I think...I guess..." I stammered.
"You think, you guess," She said impatiently. "Either you are or you aren't. So are you?"
"Yes!" I blushed. "Not sure why..."
"Tell me,” She said firmly, directing me where she knew intuitively he wanted to go. "Does your mother have feet like mine?"
He blinked, astonished. "Well, uh, my mom's feet..."
"Do you massage her tired old feet for her?" She said pointedly. "Do you?"
I looked, wide eyed. "How...well...yes, once in a while, if she asks, I mean she works hard, she's on them all day...and..."
"Be a darling and massage mine…boy." She sighed, removing her sunglasses in the gathering dusk to look at him, her blue eyes flashing. "Let's see how good you are at it."
"Right...here? Right..now?" I asked, looking around.
"Darling, there's no one here," Bubble laughed. "Now kneel down and massage my feet!"
"Uh...OK," I said nervously, kneeling before me as I lifted my right foot to his trembling hands, resting the heel on his left thigh. "Um...OK Bubble?"
"You can call me....Mom!" She said, caught up in the naughtiness of the moment, much to his wide-eyed astonishment.
"But..."
She lifted that foot off his thigh and brought it to his face, the wrinkled sole inches from his nose and open eyes and mouth.
"Trust me...boy...it'll be worth your while," Bubble hissed, bending and straightening her toes, unleashing a flex of wrinkled flesh beneath her foot, my eyes glued to it. "Now massage Mom's foot!"
"Yes...." I said as I rested it back on my leg , my hands circled it, digging into the tight flesh, rubbing the instep and sole.
"Yes..what?" She asked sternly, suddenly lifting her foot up and gently slapping my face with it.
"Yes MOM!" I groaned excitedly, as she lowered her foot to my thigh again.
I stared down at her foot, my thumbs kneading the sole so deeply, Bubble groaned her hands desperately making their way in through the waistband of her Capri pants started a secret massage of their own. My strong fingers massaging her delicious arch at the same time. Bubble brought the other foot to my thigh and now I did both at once, lavishing attention on the wrinkled creamy soles and insteps and then, one by one, pulling gently on each soft fleshy toe, rolling them between thumbs and index fingers, Bubble moaned softly savouring every second.
"My, my, my, boy of mine, you do your other mother's feet justice, you're rather good at this!" She said breathlessly, her thighs clenched together, putting pressure on the jewel at the top of her thighs. "Keep it up, boy...harder...there, that's it....what about my toes? Do you like Mommy's toes, son? You like the shiny paint on the nails?"
"Yesssss, Mom!" I groaned, caught up in the moment.
She smiled -- and moved her heels to my groin, feeling hardness through my ever more uncomfortable cargo pants. My eyes shot open wide and I stopped massaging her teasing feet.
"I didn't tell you to stop, boy!" She snapped, thrusting her shapely legs out and crushing my man gems, making me wince in pain. "Keep rubbing mom's feet!"
"Yesss, Mom!" I groaned again, in pleasure and pain as she rubbed her heels harder into my crotch, feeling my hardening member against her feet.
"Massage my calves, they need attention, too, do it!" she said.
My hands reached for her supple lower legs exposed in capri pants and kneaded the tired muscles, my fingers digging into the soft, slightly wrinkled, brown flesh, my eyes drinking in the sight of those curvy, tanned calves that felt like silk and steel. I moaned deeply as I worked, the tightness in my belly felt as if it would explode through my loins. I licked my lips, my mouth getting dry , through the hoarse breathing, as I lost control at her perfect feet.
She suddenly brought the right foot up to my left shoulder, I turned his gaze to the calf, which she bulged by flexing and pointing her toes.
"You've done well," she hissed. "Now suckle Mommy's curvy calf! Do it!"
I groaned and attached my mouth to the thickening muscle of her right calf, holding it in both hands, suckling the meat of it, tonguing the wrinkled flesh, massaging it with my lips and hands, then running my tongue over every salty inch, up to the inside of her knee and back down again. She lifted the other foot to my other shoulder and I repeated my tongue massage on that calf, licking up and down, ingesting the flesh, mouthing it in big gulps and slobbering my hot tongue over what I'd sucked into my lips. Bubbles supple fingers made the stretched material of her Capri pants, look like the rolling of an ocean just before the storm…. Her toes clenched and pointed as the storm broke her calves closing around my neck and squeezing me in the muscles of them as she shuddered, groaned deeply and relaxed.
she pulled her slender fingers out, still holding my neck in her calves, and brought them to my nose.
"Smell Mommy's juices!" She ordered me.
I did, like a man starving for air, inhaling deeply and groaning at the thick, musty aroma of her jewel. She then pushed her exquisite fingers into my mouth, my hot tongue cleaning them, swallowing her jewel juices. She released the scissoring calves from my neck and lifted her feet to my face.
"Have at them, boy," she laughed. "You've earned it."
I went wild; holding her feet to my face, ramming it into them, smelling the soles, then up between her sweet crimson toes, inhaling the sweaty, acrid aroma of a day trapped in stockings and high heeled shoes at work. I moaned, licking now, from her heels up the creamy wrinkled soles to the toes, and between them, eyes rolling over white in my face, my tongue feasting on the grit and sweat between them like it were caviar, then sucking each fleshy toe in my mouth, tongue washing the slippery, painted nails. I took my time, licking madly, sucking, probing with my mouth, lips and tongue and she shuddered and moaned again, even without touching herself this time, just feeling my hot mouth on her sexy feet. She held her legs up behind the knees, watching me slave, watching me adore her feet, and watched my hand sneak to my crotch to paw at the tight bulge in my cargo pants.
"How dare you!" Bubble snapped in mock anger, trapping my neck in her solid calves again, twisting her feet together behind me and squeezing so hard so fast my face turned red in her grip. "Did I TELL you to touch yourself ….dirty boy? No, I did not!"
She squeezed me a moment longer, my hands pulling at her shins locked around my throat, my eyes heavy lidded, I felt on the verge of fainting in her calf scissors. She smiled victoriously and eased the squeeze.
"Now, that's MOMMY'S job!" Bubble hissed. "Take it out. Now, boy, now!"
I groaned, fumbling with my fly and pulling my pants down a bit, a gorgeous, thick tube of man meat springing out, dripping wet from the head. She smiled. And dropped her feet to my face.
"Lick Mommy's feet, get them nice and wet," she hissed.
I did, groaning, slavishly tonguing the sweet, salty curves of her instep, soaking them. She dropped them down, scissoring my swollen manhood in them and my back arched in ecstasy as I moaned loudly. As she stroked me up and down, jerking me off clasped in her divine feet I felt weak as if she were milking the life out of me.
"Lean back, boy, let Mommy's feet work their magic," she mocked.
I did, leaning back on my haunches, giving her every hard inch to play with, to own, her soft creamy soles and crimson toes playing with me, teasing me, milking me, stroking madly, up and down, the muscles in her killer calves flexing as I watched them helplessly in her power and her beautiful feet and painted toes, all of it becoming a blur in my mind, as my man gems tightened beneath her creamy soles slapping down on them.
"Listen hard boy, let go on Mommy's feet, NOW!" She commanded, jerking me harder and faster, her feet flying up and down, her heels pounding my aching suffering balls. "Give Mommy's feet your load, NOW!"
On cue, I moaned, a long shuddering breath and we both watched thick, arcing jets of hot sweet juice explode from my foot-teased member and leave sticky ropes the length of her shins and calves, soaking them, the hot fluid running down them, coating the flexing muscle, and the remaining ribbons of juice sheeting down over my manhood to form a thick blanket of cream on her softly pumping feet.
From her tanned knees to plump fleshy toes, there was a thick layer of clumped juice, and as her feet slowed their pumping action, I was panting heavily and ragged like a man shipwrecked who had found his way to the beach.
She lifted one foot to my sweaty face, smiling. I wasn't. I feared what she would do with me next.
"Lick Mommy's feet clean, boy!" She ordered me. "You made that disgusting mess, you clean it up!"
I was too far gone to disobey and trembling, I snaked my tongue out tentatively to lap at the creamy mess on her toes. Impatiently, she reached for my head with her hand and rammed my mouth to her foot, stuffing the toes, all five of them, into my sucking mouth.
"Eat it, boy, now!" She growled, as she watched me ingest every sweet ounce of my juice from her toes.
She had me suck them clean, then the instep and sole of that foot, then run my tongue through the glistening sheen of my ball brew lining her shiny shin and muscular calf. When that leg was done, she made me do the other and by the end, as her legs, feet and toes shone with spit instead of juice, she pulled my face to her jewel and squeezing my head in her thighs bade me lick for her pleasure, crushing my skull and grinding her jewel into my mouth. By the time she was done, I was red and near fainting again and she released me, watching me flop back to the sand, my wilting wet member comically sticking in the air.
She laughed, standing up and slipping her tongue wet feet back into her sandals, packing up her book and chair as I lay on my back, drained and exhausted, looking up at her. Bubble put her sunglasses back on and looked down at me. She knew she owned me now.
"Thank Mommy," she sneered.
I got to my knees, bending to kiss her feet, mumbling my thanks.
"Next warm day, I better see you here again, boy," she laughed, slapping my face away with her foot and walking away, feeling my hungry gaze on her peachy arse in those tight Capri pants.