Slowly I felt her foot rise until she pushed her foot past my hands against my chin, her toes curling in and out, her arch pressed to my bearded chin. “Oh yes,” She said drawing out the S, “This is what I have been missing all this time.” I instinctively sucked her big toe into my mouth as she brought her other foot up and started rubbing it against my chest.

Her eyes opened and a grin to shame the Cheshire Cat crept upon her face. “I was quite sure there were no men in America whom knew the value of women’s feet.” She said working her toes in and out of my mouth. “I had to leave behind my boyfriend to study here, it has been six months and cannot wait another three to see him.” I pulled her toes from my mouth and told her I wouldn’t want her to get into any trouble. She pushed her toes back into my mouth and said there would be no problem; she knew he’d been releasing his own issues on a female friend back home. Well, dear friend, turn about IS fair play.

As I returned to my duties in tongue massaging her right foot, Marla slipped her left down to my crotch and tickled my growing cock through my pants. Leaning back she watched me from a length of toned muscle and tanned legs, enjoying the contortions of my face as one massage inspired another. Suddenly she pulled her foot from my mouth with a loud POP (not to mention a pout from me) and sat up to undo my pants (replacing the pout with a smile). I pulled her top off to discover the most perfect set of A-cups I’d ever seen, hanging free. My lord, she had come prepared, braless. I started to falter and asked why she’d chosen me.

With a wicked smile she explained she’d seen my act and intrigued asked Melissa who I was. Melissa had evidently been into her cups and divulged more than my identity. Along with my name Melissa told the whole sob story of having my heart broken recently and growing a little perverse spread the secret I was a footman. Dear reader I was at a loss for words, having built up a good feeling sure on my looks and charm, it was my secret fetish that had delivered this angel to my doorstep.

Finally she removed my finale piece of clothing, my boxers to reveal my raging hard 9 inches. She said something in Czech and looked into my eyes with the glimmer of hope a child has upon walking into a candy store. To my delight she decided to show off her flexibility and took me in her mouth, her toes tickling my balls sack. (oh the humanity! I’d forgotten such joys!) Fearing a premature end to our pay I pushed her back and slid my face between her legs. Closely cropped with thin lips straining from lust I kissed my way around her wet pussy and down her legs, ending at one foot and moving back up starting with the opposite foot.

She writhed beneath me, her powerful legs closing and guiding me back to her lower mouth. At last she grabbed my head and pushing my shoulders down with muscles only dancer’s have, forced my lips to hers. I used every ounce of my being to probe between those lips, to tease her clit, turning that sultry accent to an indelible mixture of throaty moans and broken Czech. I felt pressure on my forehead and amazed to see her right foot against the bridge of my nose. In a display of dexterity I have nor will ever see again, she proceeded to grind the heel of her foot against her swollen mound as I sucked hungrily on her toes.

A shudder passed through her as her bucking hips pushed her big toe deeper in my mouth and her heel ground harder to the peaking clit. She groaned and a spasm rocked her groin as her juices sprayed from her on to my neck. Yes friend, I said SPRAYED. I’d never been with a squirter and I hungrily lapped her flowing juices, thankful for the blanket underneath us to keep the couch from getting soaked.