Foot Massage Story Novels & Stories

I'm seeing things. I find her in her office. I close the door behind me and crouch at her feet. She hands me her foot, I take it and remove her high heels. I sit down completely, because I'm truly exhausted. I start her massage. I don't want to make the same mistake as last time. I really need my job! For thirty minutes, I massage her feet. My hands are tired. I hear her say: - Go higher. Huh? What is she saying? Go higher! Damn it, don't give her any ideas! I massage her legs, one after the other. Now, I don't know if I should go higher? I continue my massage, moving higher and higher! She still doesn't say anything!

"Next special, a foot rub, give 'em here." "No way, my feet are sandy and gross," I protested, but he grabbed my ankle, pulling my foot into his lap anyway. "Shh, special means all in," he said, thumbs pressing into my sole, circling slowly, hitting pressure points that made my whole body melt. "See? Relaxing, right?" "Too relaxing, I might fall asleep," I sighed, leaning back on my elbows, watching him focused, all serious about it. "You're spoiling me rotten, what's the catch?"

Our destination for the day was Sole Haven Massage Retreat, a place promising relaxation and indulgence. As we entered the retreat, a serene atmosphere greeted us, accompanied by the soothing scent of essential oils. Sarah led me to an area where they offered foot spas. It was my first time trying out such a contraption, and I must admit, it looked rather peculiar. Curiosity mingled with skepticism within me. With a mischievous grin, Sarah urged me to give it a shot. I cautiously placed my feet into the warm water, feeling a tingling sensation. As the machine sprang to life, bubbles and gentle vibrations enveloped my feet. A surprised giggle escaped my lips.

And he tosses my flip flops off. He grabs my foot and tries the smallest boot. “Yow” I yell out. After he roughly tried to pry the boot in and off my foot. “Definetly to small” he looks up unsure and tosses the boot aside. His hands linger at my foot and he gently holds me in place while pressing into my arch and kneading at it like I’m at a Chinese foot spa. It’s actually quite nice.

What the fuck? “Let me help soothe your feet,” he says his voice low. I furrow my eyebrows. This is unexpected. He doesn’t wait for a reply, and I am too gobsmacked to even formulate one as he takes my right foot in his hand and begins to massage it. His hands are soft, warm and surprisingly gentle as he begins to use his thumb on pressure points under my foot. Fuck, this feels good, I’m not going to let him know that though. Now I realize what all that fuss is about when it comes to reflexology. Another thing that Mia swears by to relieve stress. Not that Mia has any real stresses, she has her job, a good family life and not entwined with the shit that comes with being a mafia princess. She

"I like how you care about me and support me. So no matter what happens to you, you'll always be my favorite mister!" Upon hearing that, Ambrose's heart trembled slightly. Larissa skillfully massaged several acupoints on his legs, making him feel comfortable. "You've learned massaging before?" He was surprised. "A doctor taught me when I was in the countryside back then," Larissa replied vaguely. Ambrose arched his brows and didn't ask anything more. Larissa would talk about it on her own if she wanted to. As expected, soon after, she tentatively said, "Mister, that doctor also taught me acupuncture and some medical knowledge. As long as I massage you every day, your leg muscles won't shrink

“Who said anything about sex? I was just going to massage your poor ankles. You’ve been on your feet all day. Let me help you.” Opal puts up some token resistance, but eventually, she gives in and lets me take off her shoes and stockings. I sit on the foot of the bed with her ankles on my lap as I massage her feet. I loosen her ankles by shaking them gently from side to side. Opal closes her eyes and lets me work, not even bothering to insult me.

"Aaaw... ouch, it hurts." "Should I massage it?" "Yes, please." He began massaging her foot. It was indeed swollen. It was a Saturday, and there was no work the next day, so he wasn't concerned about staying up late. After about ten minutes of massaging, he asked, "Is it okay now?"

Thumbs pressing into the sole, fingers moving along the outside of the foot. It was funny that she chose a massage from me as the price for answering my question. For me, it felt like being made to eat your favourite meal as a punishment. I’d have to teach her a thing or two about bargaining. “So what are you going to do now?” I asked. “Go to sleep after the massage.” Her face had the particular smugness of someone who knew they were being ridiculous and didn't care. I rolled my eyes. “I mean, what are you going to do about the situation with your parents?”

He came over to me, sat down, and placed my feet on his lap. "My feet are sore," I complained. "You're pregnant, you need to slow down. And wear lower heels," Alexander said, starting a delicious massage on my feet that made me close my eyes. Within a few minutes, I was relaxed and my feet no longer ached. I moaned in contentment, feeling his skilled hands touching my feet. "I'm not going to stay just on your feet, my angel," Alexander warned with his husky voice. He stood me up and took off all my clothes, making me lie down again on our couch.