Foot Massage Story Novels & Stories

He reached for my left foot and began massaging my sole with just the right amount of pressure. Then he moved on to my ankle. His touch switched between featherlight and more pressure as he worked his fingers up my calf. My core throbbed, and I could feel myself growing wetter under his touch.

Her words dropped off at the end of her statement. "You're never too old." It was hard not to gather her close and promise to teach her himself. He stretched out on the couch and put his bare feet down near her lap. She wiggled over and placed them on her legs. She turned slightly toward him and began massaging his right foot. He knew he was probably drooling, but didn't care; her hands were magic. He liked to tease Matt with his foot fetish, but really he loved the feel of soft hands on his feet. Not that he didn't like soft hands on his cock, but this was different. It was a non-sexual act that turned him on quicker than almost anything else.

I wanted to retort but all I can do for now is just cry and look at her. She helps me lay down again before starting to massage my feet, slowly hitting some nerves connecting to my whole body. I cried, letting her take care of me, since I still can't lift my own hands and feet alone when I am supposed to be the one taking care of her! After, she massages my feet and limbs. She massages my arms as well.

Olivia asked softly. Nodding dumbly, I let go of her right foot and grabbed her left. Of course, her right foot landed directly on my cock. That was a dumb move. But at least she wasn't moving it. With her left foot now held firmly with both hands, I began to administer the same massage to that one. Working my way up and down, I rubbed her heel, then gripped and squeezed my way to the ball. When I mashed my thumbs into that meaty part of her foot, it earned me another moan from her.

Mumbling, I kept on putting pressure on my sore ankles. “Let’s go home then, princess.” Surprised by the voice, I stood up, hiding my socks behind me as I smiled at my boss who is leaning by the doorframe. “Come on, the little brat’s waiting.” I still don’t have a solid grasp of what is happening, but I nodded. “A moment, sir. Let me just fix myself up.” I said, sitting back down to put on my socks and wear my heels once again. He walked in after closing the door, going down on one knee and took my foot, placing it on top of his knee and started to massage it. “Sir?”

I said as we walked inside the unit. “Cindy’s my best friend. Not you.” She said and guided me to her coach. She grabbed the paper bag from me. “I can be whatever you want me to be. Don’t try drinking that vodka.” I said and removed my shoes. I didn't hear her reply but she knelt on the carpet and raised my foot. She removed my socks and started massaging my ankle. “Sorry for being rude earlier.” She said, not looking at me. Oh this is new.

But in recent days his countenance has been worrying. Now it seems that the firm layer of ice and firmness begins to give way asking me to help him with the strain. The truth is that I have no knowledge of massage therapy at all, except when Mom asked me to massage her feet when she arrived from a hard day's work and I helped her with that, of course but now that her diabetes has advanced she must take extreme care. "Sir," I mutter, tolerating little silence. "I know I haven't told you before, but... Thank you."

I felt him scanning me and allowed it because my side was beginning to hurt again. "Come here," he said softly and waved me towards the couch. He sat and patted the cushion next to him. I sat down slowly. "I'm going to be huge by the time they've ripened," I groaned uncomfortably. He chuckled and asked me to lay down and put my feet onto his lap. I cocked my brow and did as he requested. I gasped softly when his hands started massaging my feet. The pain in my side evaporated and I realized he was doing Reflexology on me.

Before I can ask her what she is doing, she picks up my legs and removes my sandals, and begin massaging my foot sole. "Hey, you don't have to do this." Leaning down quickly, I push her hands away. "Your feet are hurting." She smiles, "I saw you massaging them." I realize I was absentmindedly massaging my aching sole. "I have magical hands." She wiggles her fingers and grins at me, "Your pain will vanish in no time." She again holds my foot before I can pull back.

I told him with a heavy breath. He put his thumb under my feet and moved it upward expertly. All the tiredness faded away. "You must have done this before." There is no way he is doing this for the first time. "Yeah." He whispered. "Whose feet did you massage?" I lifted my head and asked him while he looked vexed. "You are the first and I am sure only woman whose feet I am touching." He confessed and it made me smile. "Then?" I wanted to get the juicy details.