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Marisol: Passion in Bloom

By: Bacomicfan



Mari was pleasantly exhausted, having finally put the finishing touches on her Hudson Valley, New York shopping spree, with a last minute excursion through the tantalizing offerings of the local Bath and Body Works. And, of course, a shorter - but no less rewarding - jaunt through Victoria's Secret. So delighted was she with her purchases at those fine establishments, that she simply couldn't wait until she got home to hold them in her hands again, read their wondrous promises and smell their heavenly scents.

For that reason more than any other, she found herself hurrying to the mall's food court, where she quickly purchased a thirst-quenching bottle of water and just about jogged to a table to dive into her bags of divinely selfish indulgences. She squirmed happily in her seat, browsing through her new acquisitions and getting tingly all over just thinking about the hours of luxuriant self-pampering - with all things frilly and feminine - that were to come, thanks to those most excellent retail chains. In her personal estimation, those incredible stores should be PERSONALLY blessed by the Pope, and possibly even designated as holy shrines!

Remarkably, even after she'd purchased her evening supply of liquid replenishment, she didn't begin fondling her stash of goodies right off, even though it had originally been her number one priority to do so. Instead, she sipped her water slowly, savoring it's soothing coolness, looking out the far glass-paneled wall and admiring the beauty of the Hudson Valley.

As she watched the sun slowly setting, relishing the brilliance of the descending orb as it slipped beneath multi-colored clouds to eventually take refuge behind tall, leafy trees - not a one of which had palm fronds on it - she realized she'd made an excellent decision to travel north at this particular time of year. She'd heard that the Hudson Valley was full of vibrant hues and spectacular scenery in the early fall, and she could not have agreed more. This one simple sunset alone took her breath away, and had her on the verge of tears from the power of its sheer, overwhelming beauty.

She stared at that resplendent sunset for quite some time, letting it bathe her in its magnificence. How long she watched that lazily dropping ball she had no idea. But, eventually, the bright hues dimmed, and the sky prepared to welcome its other regular visitor, the moon. And Mari could once again focus on her bag of body-pampering wonders. Sighing a deep sigh, taking a last glance out the glass wall, she took a sip of water and began rummaging through her bag, suddenly bubbling with schoolgirl giddiness.

A chill ran down her spine as she gazed at one delicious product after another. Body oils, powders and lotions to spoil her soft skin religiously. Perfumes to make her smell simply scrumptious. Bath oils and foaming bath flakes to pamper herself in the sensuous waters of a luxuriantly dreamy bath. Nail polish and other "prettying" things to make her feel beautiful. And a few more..."naughty" items. She'd found two intriguing massage oils, both of which had called out to her, beckoning her, pleading with her to take them home with her. She'd succumbed, lured by their sensual promises. You never know, was her reasoning. Who knows when a woman might meet some really sexy man who wanted nothing more than to massage her from head to toe for hours on end. Perhaps this handsome benefactor would prefer the lavender massage oil for its sensual fragrance, or maybe he'd prefer - Mari giggled and squirmed just thinking about it - the flavored massage oil, so that the lucky gentleman could partake of its delicate taste - and hers - after completing the massage proper. She grinned widely, envisioning it vividly, then sighed, realizing that such dreams rarely come true. But then, she told herself, stranger things have happened, and her string of lousy luck had to end sometime.

As if to give credence to that hope-filled sentiment, Mari suddenly noticed a man at another table looking at her. His table was just ahead of hers and to her left. And she was sure that he'd looked back at her a second time. Once he'd stolen a quick glance at her face, and another time his eyes darted from her neck down to her calves. Both times he smiled what appeared to be an approving smile, and then he'd quickly turned back around to resume sipping whatever beverage he held just out of view behind his body. Mari was most pleased that he'd felt compelled to check her out a second time. Once meant nothing. Curiosity, probably, or maybe just his reacting to some unconscious movement on her part that he'd caught out of the corner of his eye. Twice, however, meant possible interest, a follow-up glance to check out something that his eyes found appealing the first time around.

He WAS rather cute, she thought, though certainly not what she'd consider a heart throb by any stretch. His glances back at her, both rare and discreet - for several more did indeed follow -were within the bounds of good taste. He didn't stare or ogle, he simply glanced back, admired her briefly, and then withdrew his info-gathering eyes before they could become intrusive. But Mari was convinced he approved of her appearance, and it made her feel warm inside - almost as warm as that beautiful sunset had made her feel not more than a few moments ago. With a bagful of sensual miracles in her possession, and an attractive man showing interest in her for the first time in ages, she was beginning to fly higher than the clouds. She suddenly felt beautiful, desirable and oh, so feminine. She found herself wanting the man to look back again, hoping she could this time make eye contact...just to see where it might lead, or even just how he might react.

While waiting for the fellow to show his interest again, Mari took her turn at checking HIM out. He seemed of average height, perhaps a bit stocky - though it was difficult to tell seeing him only from behind. If he was stocky, he certainly didn't appear soft, by the looks of the muscles in his arms and the broadness of his shoulders. Physical attributes aside, the most obvious thing about him was his attire. He wore a complete set of denim hospital scrubs, with only white sneakers and socks breaking the overwhelming dominance of blue that covered him from his neck to his ankles. When he finally again turned to peer back at her, she immediately noticed still more blue, in the form of shining blue eyes that sparkled with a kind of mischievous good humor. 

Tearing her eyes away from those hypnotic blue gems, she scanned the rest of his face in a heartbeat, before he again turned back to his drink. She'd seen a trim, dark brown mustache and beard that surrounded full, sensually attractive lips. The chin portion of his beard, along with the edges of his sideburns at the temples, was dappled with thin wisps of gray. 

Unconsciously, her mind roamed back to those blue eyes. Difficult to see from this distance, they nonetheless easily gave away their owner's secrets. Not only did those twinkling eyes clearly show humor, but deeper still there was definite, though partially hidden, mischief. Incongruously, they also hinted at a shyness on their owner's part, probably the reason he only stole quick, discreet glances at her, and then instantly turned away so as not to make eye contact. Mari found herself intrigued by those blue eyes, and what lay behind them. They drew her in on several levels. She liked them very much, even more so than she cared to admit to herself. 

Still thinking about those impish blue eyes, Mari sat back and crossed her legs, slowly sipping her water and waiting for "blue eyes" to look back once more. It took a while, but eventually he did indeed peek back again, but when he saw that she was looking directly at him, his head darted back around, as if he'd been embarrassed to be caught looking at her.

But, just as quickly as his head whipped forward, it whipped back around again, his eyes having apparently seen something this time that they appeared to want to spend more time looking at, regardless of the risk of getting caught doing so. Mari was surprised by the sudden double-clutch neck action, even more so when she saw a wistful smile cross the man's face. But the trajectory of his gaze was a puzzle. He wasn't looking at her face or even her legs as he had before. He appeared to be looking lower still.

Puzzled, Mari tried to follow the angle of his stare. She looked down at her calves, wondering if she'd spilled water on them. Seeing nothing, she looked lower still. The only thing she noted anywhere in the range of the man's interested angle of vision was that she had at some point begun rocking her top leg up and down - probably from sheer nervousness - and her navy blue, open toe pump was dangling from the tips of her toes. It swayed back and forth precariously, threatening to drop to the floor if she happened to rock her leg with even the tiniest bit more force or speed. Surely, THAT couldn't be what the man had been looking at! But then... what?!

She looked quickly back at the man, but he'd since turned back around. It was maddening! She shook her head, thinking she must have either misjudged the angle of his sight or had imagined the whole thing altogether. But then, just that quickly, the man again looked around. Again his eyes made no attempt to scan her face, her legs, or even her breasts! No, they forsook all of these treasures in favor of again looking down in the direction of the floor at Mari's feet. 

Again perplexed, Mari looked down more quickly this time, thinking that maybe this time she was going to catch something, perhaps something she'd dropped from one of her bags onto the floor by her chair, or some mesmerizing insect that was scurrying grossly about at her feet, that the man was looking at. Again she saw only her rocking leg and the dangling shoe.

And then, finally, it sunk in. Oh my God! she thought. She'd heard about men like this, but never in a million years thought she'd ever encounter one! The man must be looking at her foot! Her shoe was dangling from it - through no conscious will of her own - and he was obviously intrigued by that fact. Maybe he was hoping her shoe would drop off, and he'd get a look at her entire foot, instead of just the toes that peeked out from around her pump's cross strap! That MUST be it! What else could it be? This guy must have a foot fetish!

Mari's first reaction to this was to laugh out loud, though she settled for an inward chuckle instead. Some part of her felt guilty, however, not only for her stifled guffaws, but also for having discovered another human being's deep, dark secret, the skeleton that apparently inhabited this man's closet. But, then, like lightning, another thought came bolting into her brain. She realized that this might very well be an incredible blessing in disguise. How many times had she tried to get her ex-husband to rub her feet? How many times had she PLEADED with him for just five minutes of his time, kneading her tired feet back to health? How many fantasies had she had over the years where a totally adoring man held one of her feet by the heel and reverently, romantically kissed her toes while massaging her sole with his thumb? She knew her feet were very sensitive, even erotically so. So, if this man wanted to get a look at them, wouldn't that also mean he'd enjoy rubbing and kissing them for her? Surely, a man with a foot fetish would JUMP at the chance to pamper her darling, sweet little feet for her, no? Wouldn't just one little wiggle of her French pedicured toes have him eating out of her hand?Hmmmmm....this chance situation was beginning to open itself up to some most intriguing possibilities. 

But first, Mari had to be sure that she was correct in her suspicions. Even if it didn't lead to anything, she HAD to know for her own curiosity if this man was truly trying to sneak peeks at her feet or not. Besides, she just couldn't resist a little tease, not to mention showing off the shiny, clear toenails with their pretty white tips that she was so proud of. After all, what good are bi-weekly pedicures if no one else besides herself admires her sexy toes?

Thus motivated, and doing something entirely out of character, Mari suddenly felt the urge to put on a wicked little show for her blue-eyed, scrub-wearing admirer. She would purposely let her shoe drop to the floor, just to see what, if anything, he would do. The next time he looked around, if his eyes were aimed downward, she'd let that dangling shoe fall...then just wait to see what happened next.

But the man wouldn't look around. Either he'd lost interest, or he was too embarrassed, probably realizing that earlier the astute Mari had caught him looking at her foot. In either case, Mari felt she'd lost her chance. She mentally slapped herself, for not catching on quicker, and thus having lost the moment.

But then, fate intervened. Quite unconsciously once again, Mari's toes curled downward, and the shoe's dainty cross strap - which had been desperately clinging to the very tips of her toes - slipped forward just enough to glide unhindered down those smooth, lacquered nails toward freedom. At the last second, those cute little digits seemed to realize that the shoe was escaping, and tried valiantly to curl upward and hook it before it did, but to no avail. With a soft "clunk," the pump landed on the white tile of the mall food court floor.

And the man's head whipped around as if someone had yanked it back with a rope!

Mari could see that he was trying not to look like a psycho or pervert, but that he was nonetheless obviously quite taken with her wiggling, shoeless foot. She nearly giggled out loud - not to ridicule the man, but because she'd been right, after all, and thus had become nervously delighted, as well. The cute fellow was trying hard not to, but he couldn't avoid admiring her foot! He either couldn't, or didn't want to, tear his eyes from it, even at the risk of looking like an idiot...or worse. God, how that made her squirm!

So, out of the goodness of her heart - or was it just her vixenish side? - Mari just let him look at it. She wiggled it and flexed it and all around flaunted it for his benefit, wondering how long he'd continue to admire it. She purposely showed him the sleek, soft sole with it's delicately curved arch, then lowered her foot and clenched her toes downward for him to admire the shiny French tips. She brazenly displayed her foot as if she were showing off a piece of jewelry to a prospective buyer. And those cool, blue eyes took in every offered up detail, twinkling their obvious interest. The wistful smile on his face also had her squirming in her seat. He looked like a man who so dearly wanted something, but knew he just couldn't have it. So close, yet so, so far away. He almost looked sad, really, which made Mari feel a twinge of sympathy for him, though her heart still pounded with excitement.

And all the while he smiled his wistful approval, Mari looked directly at him, in case his eyes should move upward and she could meet him eye to eye. It was quite erotic knowing that this man admired - even desired? - her foot enough to embarrass himself openly like that. As he continued to smile down at her teasing tootsie, she wondered if he would have the nerve to speak to her, or if he'd finally become so embarrassed that he'd get up and walk away. And if he did speak to her, how would SHE react? He WAS looking at her FEET, after all. Was there more to him, or was he really just a pervert, plain and simple? She had no clue what she would say or do if he approached her, and that bit of mystery seemed to add to her excitement, too.

Then, suddenly, the man looked up at her - directly into her eyes. He smiled somewhat sheepishly, knowing he'd been caught, and his secret was out. But now, what would he do about that, Mari wondered.

The man looked away, then rubbed his forehead and chin nervously. He took a deep breath...then several more. He seemed to be trying to come to a decision. It was the moment of truth, for both him and Mari. Then, slowly, haltingly, he stood. But, Mari wondered, would he leave or come over to her? Would he simply apologize for being a voyeur, or would he introduce himself? She was crackling inside, kinetic energy flowing through her like lightning. She couldn't wait to find out what he'd do.

Her heart started pounding harder than ever when he turned and walked in her direction, leaving his drink on the table. It only took four or five steps for him to reach the table where Mari sat. He stood next to her for a moment, looking down at her, still breathing deeply. She could see he was nervous, trying to collect himself before speaking. He chewed his lower lip lightly, glancing quickly and nervously around the food court as if he might be caught doing something either wrong or just stupid. Mari's impression of him at that moment was that he seemed like a shy, lost little boy. Nearly chewing her own lip, she remained silent, continuing to look up at him, giving him the time he needed to make his decision. Hell, she wouldn't have known what else to do anyway!

Then, with a final deep sigh, the man looked into her eyes. With one last nibble on his lower lip, he spoke, softly and quietly. "May I?" was all he said, his hand moving jerkily as he pointed downward.

Mari blinked at him. She'd expected him to say SOMETHING, but "May I" was not one of the many things she'd considered he might say. It took her by complete surprise. But, again, it added to the mystery, the unknown of the situation. She tingled just a bit.

"May you?" she asked, smiling nervously herself now. "May you what?"

"Well," he replied, seeming to relax just a little, "your shoe. It seems to have jumped off your foot. May I have the honor of putting it back on for you?" Mari saw him grimace, as he chastised himself for making a totally boneheaded offer. A slight, pink glow lightly shaded his cheeks, and Mari wondered whether that blush was from embarrassment...or arousal. 

Then she looked down at her foot. With all that was going on in her mind, she hadn't even realized that the shoe was still on the floor, and that her foot was still prancing around, naked and excited.

"Uh...you want to put my shoe back on for me?" She hadn't expected that, but deep inside it seemed like such a gallant, chivalrous offer. She loved the very idea of it, though she wasn't about to let on that she felt that way.

"Well...I know it probably sounds stupid, but, well...yeah. A man should do those kinds of things for a pretty lady. At least, that's what I've always thought." His teeth resumed munching on his lower lip.

She looked up at him with beaming eyes. Her smile was warm, making her face even more beautiful. "Well," she said, inhaling a deep breath, "if that's the way you feel, I don't mind if you put my shoe back on for me." She even lifted her leg, holding her foot out for him, giving her newfound knight a more accessible target.

As he knelt to pick up her shoe, he said shyly, "I'm sorry. My name is Tom. I should've introduced myself as soon as I came over."

"That's alright," she laughed quietly as he held her foot by the heel and brought the shoe up to it. "I'm Marisol, Mari for short."

"Nice to meet you, Mari. Lovely name, by the way."

"Thank you. Nice to meet you too, Tom."

He held her foot firmly by the heel, the tip of his quivering thumb just touching the hem of her tight-fitting jeans, and began to slowly slip the shoe back on. But, he hesitated. Mari smiled as she saw his eyes looking at her toes, dilating pupils moving slowly from toe to toe, admiring each one. He knelt there, frozen, holding the shoe motionless just in front of her foot, as he slowly enjoyed looking at her entire foot, a contented smile on his face. Mari couldn't resist wiggling her toes for him, prompting his eyes to dart right back to those impish digits. She felt a little guilty for teasing him, but she just couldn't fight off the impulse to do so. He certainly didn't seem to mind, so she didn't berate herself too much for it. In fact, she rather congratulated herself for it - a small spark of much needed decadence on her part.


Marisol: Passion in Bloom



"Wow," Tom said breathlessly, gazing longingly at her toes, "French tips. Very nice."

Amazed that a man even knew what French tips were, Mari felt a shudder run from her toes all the way up to her throbbing temples. Taking a deep breath, she replied, "Thank you. I get them done all the time. I like to keep my feet pretty." As she said it, she again tingled at her own willingness to reel this fellow in like a squirming bass on the end of her hook. Did she really want him interested in her feet, was she just giving in to some cruel urge to tease him, or did she think there was something more behind the fetish, something - no, someONE - worth getting to know?

"Mission accomplished, I'd say," Tom sighed, swallowing hard, a smile burned into his dreamy-eyed face. Then, lower, as if the comment wasn't meant to be heard, he added, "And I'm jealous of whoever painted them." He wasn't even aware that he'd spoken the words out loud, and Mari herself only barely heard them. But, hear them she did. And it took all her will power not to shove her toes up to his lips and ask him to kiss them until his lips were raw!

Feeling she'd better break the tension, Mari finally cleared her throat and said, "Um...Tom...my shoe?"

Tom seemed to snap out of a trance, and, blinking an invisible fog from his eyes, he slowly, even reluctantly, slipped her shoe onto her foot. Mari watched intently, feeling like pampered royalty as this man knelt at her feet, replacing the shoe that she'd subconsciously - and yet still possibly intentionally? - let drop from her toes.

"There," Tom said, "it's all nice and comfy back home again." He smiled, but Mari could tell he was trying to recover from something. Was he excited? Was he turned on by something as simple as her bare foot, and putting her shoe back on for her? Oh, my, if that was the case, she might very well get to like this man!

"Thank you, kind sir," Mari said. "Your assistance is greatly appreciated. You are indeed a true gentleman."

"You're very welcome," he replied with a shy smile, "Now you keep that shoe on nice and tight, okay? Don't let it escape again. It might try to run away, and then where would you be? And I might not always be around to corral it for you." He smiled, his nervousness seeming to dissipate more rapidly now, despite the telling pink glow that clung stubbornly to his face.

"I'll try my best to keep it on my foot," Mari promised, "but sometimes it has a mind of its own. I do wonder, though, what would happen if it DID fall off again?" She left him an opening, hoping he'd take the bait. Inwardly, she laughed at herself for still thinking of him as a fish on a hook, and her mischievous foot as the bait that would lure him to that barbed fate. But again, she didn't berate herself. She was feeling much too sexy for the first time in way too many years to even think of doing that.

"Well, in that case," he replied, "were I anywhere in the vicinity, I would feel compelled to put it back on for you again. If you would allow me to, of course. I just can't allow a lovely lady like yourself to do something as trivial as that. A lady like yourself is far above such things."

"So I can count on you to be chivalrous and gallant again, can I?" Mari quipped, another shiver of excitement dancing along her entire body.

"Any time," Tom replied, smiling a smile that heated Mari from the inside out. "And now," he added, "I'll leave you to your... uh... water. And... whatever you were doing before I interrupted you. I hope I didn't bother you too much. I sincerely apologize if I did."

"Not at all," she said, fighting back a landslide of emotions, "I appreciate your help. Thank you, Tom." Her smile was having the same warming effect on him that his definitely had on her.

Tom returned to his table, reluctantly, as if hoping Mari would ask him to sit with her. When she didn't, he trudged back to his table and sat, obviously disappointed. He seemed to be contemplating, trying to think of what to do next, his index finger nervously tapping his chin as if the tapping might drum a decision out of it. Mari found herself wishing he'd ask to sit with her, so when he turned to leave she wasn't sure what to do, either. Each sat at their own table, thinking how they could continue this chance meeting without looking too idiotic to the other.

With a grin, Mari realized just how easy it would be to get Tom back over to her table. After all, he'd promised to come to her assistance again if she needed it, didn't he? She wasn't usually one to tease, being shy herself, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Tom was cute, and he'd looked so charmingly sweet kneeling in front of her, staring at her toes and slowly slipping her shoe onto her foot. And he was so close to her feet. If only he'd started massaging them! Woohooo! She'd have put him in one of the bags with her oils and lotions and taken him home with her right then and there! So, it was with a calculating mind and a racing heart that she did what she did next. True, it was wicked, but if the bait doesn't work the first time, you simply apply more bait and toss the hook back into the water. Again Mari grinned at her somewhat cruel symbolism, but her heart was thumping so profoundly in her chest, that if she didn't try SOMETHING, she knew she'd regret it for a long time to come. She was coming to realize that she wasn't just teasing Tom simply for the sake of teasing him, nor was she looking for some kind of odd footsie relationship with him. She'd seen something behind those blue eyes, in those soft words, and definitely in those shy lips. It had stirred her, and not just in a sexual way. There was something there worth pursuing. And if she had to resort to a little teasing to bring it all out, well, then Tom would just have to play the willing victim for the moment. Once she had him "hooked," then she'd slowly peel away the shy yet smoldering exterior to find the heart she knew was beneath.

So, feeling her cause was just, she rocked her leg up and down as before, this time even more exaggeratedly. She arched her foot so that the heel of her shoe slipped off, causing the shoe to again dangle threateningly. She rocked her leg quicker and harder, letting the shoe slip further and further down to her toes. She worked the shoe to their very tips in no time at all. Then, with a grin, she curled her toes downward one last time. The shoe once again lost its grip.

CLUNK!

Tom turned around immediately. He looked in the direction of the sound, then back up into Mari's twinkling eyes. She grinned at him, trying to look totally innocent and yet playful at the same time. He grinned back, a slight blush once again painting itself on his cheeks. Slowly, he rose from his chair, hands in his scrub pockets at first, and turned to walk toward her. As a last minute decision, he stopped, took one hand out of its pocket and snatched up his drink, bringing it with him this time. Reaching her table, his chest inflating with a deep sigh, he then placed that drink on Mari's table and knelt down on one knee before her, looking up at her with hopeful eyes.

"May I?" he asked, only a slight tremor in his voice and his lips smiling broadly.

"You most certainly may, kind sir," Mari replied, not hesitating for a second, and grinning herself as she held her foot out once again. "I'm ever so sorry. I can't understand why I can't seem to keep that shoe on. But it's good to know that I have a gentleman around to assist me with this vexing situation. I truly appreciate your assistance. I'm in your debt again, sir."

With sincerity in his eyes, Tom smiled and replied, "No, Mari, I'M in YOUR debt. I must be the luckiest man in the world right now."

Mari's cheeks blushed this time. And she was rapidly beginning to feel that same flesh-warming rush of blood all over her body. She could hardly breathe, her eyes darting from Tom's lovely blue pupils to the French-tipped toenails that had so thoroughly captured their interest. Wiggling her toes ever so slightly, she thought to herself, "Fish hooked. Now, Mari, all you've got to do is reel him in and put him in your boat. Let's see what this cute fellow is made of."        Mari shivered all over again as she seemingly watched a replay of what happened only minutes ago. Tom was back on one knee before her, holding her foot in his hand, reaching down to again corral the escaped shoe. He grinned up at her, obviously perfectly happy to be exactly where he was. She smiled back, waiting for her re-shoeing to commence.

"This shoe seems adamant about gaining it's freedom," Tom said with a sly smile, "although, I can't for the life of me think why it wouldn't be perfectly happy where it was, hugging such a lovely foot as yours." His shyness was apparently history - just that quickly and easily.

"Well," Mari replied with tongue in cheek, "I can't understand it, that's for sure. It's usually quite happy to stay put, but, for some unfathomable reason, tonight it seems to be rather mischievous. It just keeps hopping right off my foot! Have you ever seen such a thing?" She played the part to the hilt. She was even enjoying it.

Tom was very aware by now that Mari had found him out. But, not only was she not put off by his fetish, but she was even going as far as to tease him about it, playing with him, having fun without making fun. It didn't seem to matter to her. In fact, she seemed to enjoy the attention. And Tom was completely willing to play along.

"No, I can't say I've ever come across such a belligerent shoe in my life. And one with very little sense, too, if you ask me. Again, if I were a shoe lucky enough to caress YOUR pretty foot, I'd stay right there as long as you needed me to be. In fact, you'd have to PRY me off your foot! I, madam, know a good thing when I see it."

"Oh, now," Mari smirked, "you're just a flatterer."

Tom was deliberately delaying again, holding off putting the shoe on her foot for as long as possible. Mari knew this, and again pranced it about playfully, flexing and wiggling her toes for his benefit. She sighed inwardly when she saw that Tom was beginning to breathe heavily, his chest heaving repeatedly as he watched the playful antics of that adorable foot.

Tom's hand began to tremble ever so slightly as he slipped her shoe back on. He was grimacing with outright displeasure as he covered up that sweet tootsie. But, Mari, without any premeditation, pulled her foot back before he could encase it in shoe leather. Tom looked up at her, looking both happy...and confused.

"Well, now," Mari grinned, "I guess it's not the shoe that's being bad, after all. It seems my foot doesn't want to wear that uncomfortable shoe. It's my foot who's being testy, it would appear."

"Well, then," Tom answered, chuckling quietly and then swallowing hard, "I would say that your adorable foot simply wants to be comfortable. And it certainly has every right to be, don't you think?"

"True," she replied, "but then what? I can't have my feet just kicking off my shoes anywhere they want to just because they're a little uncomfortable, now, can I? I mean, I'd be barefoot all the time! How would I walk around without shoes on my feet?"

"Hmmm....a tricky question, that. I'm sure you'd come up with something, some solution to your problem. But, in the meantime, should I put your shoe back on or not?" It was a tennis match, each seeing what the other would come up with next, each smacking the ball into the other's court, waiting for the return volley.

"Actually, I think you'd better," Mari said firmly. "I'll be leaving soon, and I can't be walking to my car barefoot, don't you agree?"

"Yes, I'd have to agree with that. Though, if your feet wanted their comfort THAT much, I suppose I could always CARRY you to your car."

"Carry me? Oh, how sweet," she laughed, "You're quite the gallant knight, sir, if perhaps a bit foolhardy."

"Dear lady, a knight must have a certain amount of foolhardiness. It's required, in fact, as per the stringent stipulations of the knighthood bylaws."

Mari laughed, greatly intrigued by this unusual, but interesting man. These two had only just met, and yet they talked with an ease and comfort that belied the fact that they were complete strangers. They conversed as if they'd known each other all their lives. Words flowed easily between them, and their initial shyness was banished farther and farther away with each conveyed thought, each parry and thrust of light banter.

"Go ahead, then, Sir Knight, you may restore my shoe to its proper place. However, I can't promise my stubborn foot will allow it to remain there for long. It certainly seems to have a will of its own tonight."

"In that case, Milady, perhaps I'll just have to remain on guard duty, sitting here at your feet in case your foot should again try to escape its leather confines and breathe free air once more. I'll just have to keep a close watch, to prevent such a thing from happening. Not that your lovely feet shouldn't be comfortable, mind you - they most certainly should be. But, if you insist on leaving, it WOULD be best that your shoes protect your royal tootsies from the ravages of the cold, cruel world. I'd hate to see any harm come to them. So, tell me, Milady, should I sit at your feet and remain on guard to protect your beautiful feet?" If he were talking to anyone else, that entire speech would've been ludicrous, ridiculous in the extreme. But, somehow, Mari took it all in stride, even joining in the fun.

It was at this point - hovering between wondering if he'd really sit there at her feet or not, and wanting to see just that - that Mari realized Tom was still on bent knee, holding her foot, shoe ready to be slipped once again onto it. While it was both delightfully silly AND somehow erotically romantic, she also realized that they were in a public place - a shopping mall food court, no less! Luckily, the hour was late on a week night, and there were few shoppers still remaining. Still, she knew that at any moment someone would walk by and either laugh out loud or snicker. Not to mention wandering security. What would THEY think? Would they toss them both out of the mall entirely or just ask them to leave the food court and get a room?

"Attention, mall shoppers," a message blared over the public address system, "the mall will be closing in fifteen minutes. Please complete all your purchases by that time and leave the building by one of the exits. Have a good night, and thank you for shopping at Crystal Run."

"Alas," Tom said, "I won't be able to guard Milady's feet." He made a boo-boo lip face, pushing out his lower lip like a pouting child, or one on the verge of wailing its discontent.

Mari liked this man's personality, and didn't want the conversation to end. It was too stimulating, to much fun. "For a knight, you give up rather easily, sir," she said, taking on a disappointed air.

For the first time, Tom seemed at a loss for words. So Mari continued.

"I guess I'll have to risk walking to my car, after all. I don't know what I'll do if my feet start kicking off my shoes along the way. I'll just have to suffer the indignity of pebbles attacking my poor feet!"

Tom was about to sling back yet another witty remark, carrying on the game. But, then, his expression changed. He cocked his head to one side and smiled a soft smile. "Mari," he said, "I don't know if you're just teasing me or not, but it doesn't have to end here if we don't want it to. I mean, if you're not just yanking my chain, why don't we go somewhere and have a cup of coffee together?"

Something inside Mari froze. It was do or die now. The challenge had been clearly issued. It was a case of putting her money where her mouth was. She hardly knew this man, and yet she'd carried on a conversation with him as if they'd been friends for years. She felt totally at ease with him, but that was during playful banter. Now, he seemed to want something more, something a bit more serious. What had begun as a little teasing to find out about this smiling, scrub-wearing, sparkling blue-eyed man, had now taken a turn in an entirely new direction. Was she willing to take that next step? Did she dare? He was a total stranger. Easy to talk to, yes, but a stranger nonetheless. And she was, after all, just a visitor to this state, due to go home to Florida shortly. What would be the sense of even TRYING to carry this further? She bit her lip, trying to decide her response.

As she looked down at him, she noticed he had put the shoe on the floor. He'd placed her foot on his thigh just above his bent knee, and was gently rubbing her instep and ankles with the palms and fingers of both hands. His thumbs slipped under her toes and started massaging them from below. Mari nearly squealed. Nothing, but NOTHING felt better to her than a top notch foot rub. And, whether he realized it or not, Tom was doing just that as he looked up into her eyes waiting for her answer. Mari nibbled her own tongue as she tried not to look too eager.

"Well," she said, her eyes watching his fingers squeeze and knead her toes, "I suppose we could have a drink somewhere, though I'm one of those rare folks who's not really into coffee. I mean, I don't know you from Adam, so it would have to be someplace public. I'm up here from Florida, so I don't know the local places. But, if you'd like, I'm sure a drink and some small talk wouldn't be so terrible." There, she'd done it. And now, the chips would have to fall where they may.

"Gee," Tom remarked with a wry smile, "don't sound so enthusiastic. It wouldn't be so terrible, huh? Well, I'll try not to make it TOO terrible for you."

"No, wait," Mari said, a little flustered, "I didn't mean to...really...I just meant..."

"Relax," Tom laughed, "I was just joking...about the 'terrible' part, not about wanting to spend some time with you. Are you sure you'd like to go? Like you said, you really don't know me."

Mari looked into his eyes. A more trusting pair of deep, blue eyes she couldn't imaging ever looking into. So, considering carefully, she decided to take a chance. What the hell, she thought, he's cute, he seems pretty nice, he's witty, charming in an odd sort of way. And let's not forget, he likes her feet and gives a pretty good foot rub. Maybe an hour or so chatting with him might be somewhat...awesome. Only one way to find out.

"Let's do it," Mari said. "Do you know of any clubs or hangouts around here with a little atmosphere?"

"What kind of atmosphere do you like?" He asked, a happy smile climbing aboard his face.

"Someplace public, but quiet. You know, where we can have privacy to talk and actually hear one another, and yet with other people around in case you try to pull a Jack the Ripper on me."

Tom laughed so hard he had to cover his mouth to avoid drawing attention to the two of them. His entire body quaked with the intense humor that comment inflicted upon him.

"I know just the place," he said, finally recovering his composure and reluctantly slipping her shoe over those white-tipped toes. He then lowered her foot to the floor and stood up, holding his hand out to her. "We can take my car, and I'll bring you back here to your car afterward. If you trust me, that is."

She looked deeply into his eyes. She fancied herself a good judge of character and had no trouble coming to the conclusion that he was safe. "All right," she said, "but I warn you...I carry mace."

Tom laughed again. "All right, then! Thanks for the heads up. I promise not to get fresh. Until I find out where you hide your mace, that is." He winked and grinned mischievously. 

Mari laughed, too. And then she wondered to herself...What HAVE I gotten myself into? But she was at a point in her life where she felt she had to put herself out there, take a few chances. She wasn't going to meet a sweet man hiding herself away from the world and not trusting people. So, she was going to have a drink with Tom. Only the future would tell her if she'd made the right decision. Besides, she'd be heading back to Florida shortly, anyway, so what would be the harm in a little innocent chat with this charming fellow? Seeing that his hand was still offered, she reached out and took it.




Marisol: Passion in Bloom



Tom first bent at the waist and kissed her hand just once, then took it in his own to assist her up out of her chair. He looked at her with a sudden twinge of apprehension. "I hope Milady forgives her errant knight for taking the liberty of kissing her hand without first obtaining permission." The sad eyes he beamed at her were calculated to win her over. It worked, though Mari wouldn't have minded him kissing her hand in the first place.

"I'll forgive you this once, good knight, but henceforth I'll expect you not to forget your place again. I can't have every stray knight running up and kissing my hands unannounced, now can I?"

"Of course not, Milady. Again, you have my profoundest apologies. It will not happen again." He smiled.

Almost giggling, Mari replied with mock snootiness, "See that it doesn't."

Talking and laughing, together they walked toward the mall exit which led to the parking lot where Tom's car was parked. They chatted about mundane things along the way. But, when they got to his car, and he opened the passenger side door for her, he lifted her hand up again and held it near his lips. "May I?" he asked.

Mari tingled again, but at first played hard to get. She looked at him as if she was mulling over his request, thought in reality she'd made up her mind the instant he'd brought her hand to his lips. "Very proper of you, Sir Knight," she said, "You may kiss my hand."

He bowed reverently and touched his lips to the first knuckles of each finger, kissing all five, one by one, including her thumb. "Thank you, Milady," he said, smiling. "And now, your chariot awaits. We must off to the...uh....local...quaint...um...talking place!"

"You nut," Mari laughed as she seated herself in the car, Chuckling, Tom took her bags from her and stashed them on the floor behind the passenger seat, closed the door after her and went around to the driver's side. As he sat down, Mari looked at his silhouetted profile with the parking lot light illuminating him from the side for a moment. A kind, gentle face - what she could see of it in the dark. When he finally turned to face her, trustworthy blue eyes twinkled in the overhead light. She wasn't sure if he was a knight or a rogue - or, more likely, a charming blend thereof - but he certainly seemed like he'd be fun at either role. She liked him. She felt comfortable with him. And, dammit, if he was as incredible as he seemed to be, she was going to try her best to get to know him better. Oh, and let's not forget that foot rub. If she had anything to say about things, she was somehow going to get her feet into his lap for his hands to soothe and pamper. Yessir!...that was definitely on her agenda! That brief taste of his strong fingers on her foot earlier would be just the tip of the iceberg if she had HER way!

Tom smiled over at her, almost as if he could read her thoughts. "C'mon," he said, "let's go have that talk, shall we?"

"Drive on, Sir Knight," she replied, an expectant tingle radiating from just behind her navel outward, energizing her to the very tips of her fingers and toes.

 ---------------------------      

"I've always liked the atmosphere of this place," Tom said as he pulled his car into the small parking lot. The bright headlight's flashed along the side of what appeared to be a log home.

"The Woodkeeper's Inn?" Mari asked, reading the overhead sign. "It does sound quaint."

"It is," Tom replied. "It was built over a century ago. It's been handed down through several generations of the family that originally built it. For the last fifty years or so it's been a sort of restaurant/coffee shop. They have every flavor of coffee imaginable, as well as some of the best home cooking on the East coast. Not a huge variety, mind you, but the dishes they do make are to die for. And desserts...oh my God, the desserts. Their specialty - besides coffee - is ice cream. And if you don't care for coffee, they have a pretty nice selection of hot cocoas, teas and soft drinks. And they have a well-stocked bar for those who prefer their drinks to have a kick to them. They'll even make you a traditional, old-fashioned egg cream if you like - or spike it should that be your vice. And, if I'm not mistaken, they make their own ice cream from scratch. I love this place. I come here quite a bit."

"Ahhhh," Mari kidded, "when you pick up women at the local mall?"

Tom laughed. It was a genuine laugh, full of pleasure and ease. "Yeah, right," he said finally, "like I'm a real ladies' man."

"Well, you picked ME up," Mari said with a smile.

"No, I disagree. Let's be precise here. I picked your SHOE up. YOU came here with me willingly, I believe."

"I stand corrected. You're right, I did come here with you willingly."

"And just exactly why DID you?" Tom asked, with a curious look on his face. "Why did you come here with a complete stranger, who could be - as you put it - Jack the Ripper, for all you know?"

Mari looked him over, contemplating her response. "Well, first of all, Jack the Ripper you're definitely not. Second...I don't know...I just feel...comfortable...with you. You seem like a great guy. I enjoyed our little give-and-take back there at the mall. I guess I just wanted to find out more about you."

Tom seemed happy with that reply. "C'mon," he said, "let's go inside. It's warm and cozy, and I'll see if I can't get us a table by the fireplace."

"Oh, my," Mari sighed as she reached for the door handle, "a fireplace. Yummy."

"Stop," Tom said suddenly. 

Startled, Mari froze, trying to think of what could be wrong. "What...? Why...? What's the matter?" she stammered. Grasping at straws, she thought that somehow the word "yummy" had upset him in some way, as ludicrous as that sounded.

"Stay put," he said. "Don't you dare open that door. A gentleman never lets a lady open her own door. It's just not done. Why, if I let you open your own doors, I'd be instantly drummed out of the Brotherhood of Chivalrous Knights! I'd be disgraced!"

"My, I guess chivalry ISN'T dead, at least not yet," Mari laughed. "All right, come open my door for me, Sir Knight." She was happy that it was just Tom's quirkiness that had prompted his call for her to "stop" and not open her door, rather than something she'd said. She breathed a sigh of relief, and made a mental note to be prepared for almost anything with this man.

"My honor, Milady," he answered, bowing his head slightly and smiling at her. Mari just shook her head. An odd fellow... but cute.

Tom got out of the car and walked around to her door, opening it for her. Holding the door open, he offered his hand to her yet again to help her out of the car. "May I have the honor of escorting you inside, Milady?" he asked, bowing courteously once again.

Mari laughed. "Of course you may, my good Knight. Escort away!"

Before assisting her out of the car, he again asked, this time batting his eyelids at her hopefully, "May I?" His lips hovered expectantly near her hand, ready to pucker at a moment's notice.

"My," Mari quipped, "you certainly like kissing my hands. All right, you may kiss my hand again." Then, sighing dramatically, she added, "But please try not to get TOO addicted. I realize my lovely French manicure is tempting for ANY man's lips, but DO try to control yourself, at least a little bit." Quickly, she added, "Not TOO much, now... just a little."

"Thank you, Milady, I will try," he replied with a chuckle, bending to again kiss her knuckles.

They both laughed now, an easy, comfortable laugh. Mari let him help her out of the car and then waited while he closed and locked the door. When that was completed, he offered his arm to her, bent at the elbow, for her to interlock her own arm into. She smiled and accepted the offer, hooking her arm around and through his, and he then escorted her inside.

As they walked to the front door of the The Woodkeeper's Inn, they smiled at each other, eyes locking onto eyes, sparkling a definite interest. There was no awkwardness. They felt so at ease with each other that they felt they could say or do almost anything, and not feel the least bit uncomfortable. They were fast becoming friends, even though they'd just met.

Once inside the door, Mari realized that Tom's statement that he'd patronized this establishment often was entirely true.

"Thomas! You sly rogue, you!" came a definitely female voice from off to one side. "You just can't stay away, can you?" A large, heavy-set woman bounded up to them, oozing energy and friendliness. "And who's your lovely friend here?" she asked, nodding in Mari's direction.

"Kathryn, this is Mari. We've only just met, actually."

"Oh, really?" Kathryn winked at Mari, "then you must be something special. This handsome devil doesn't often bring ladies here. I guess he thinks we're not good enough for them."

"That's not it at all," Tom laughed, knowing Kathryn was only having fun at his expense. "You know me, I'm just a loner...usually."

"Ahhh, but not this time, I see," Kathryn winked again. She touched Mari's shoulder lightly and whispered to her, a bit too loudly for it to be called a whisper, "Since you're such a special guest, I'm assuming both you and Thomas here will want a nice, private, quiet little table off by yourselves, eh? Possibly," she added with yet another wink, "next to our cozy little fireplace? Maybe the booth we call our...lovers' nook?" She looked at the two of them with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. 

Mari blushed. Nonetheless, even before Tom could answer for them, she said, "Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you, Kathryn." She'd considered protesting Kathryn's notion that they required a "lovers' nook," but in the end, decided against doing so. Why, she had no idea.

Tom was pleasantly surprised by Mari's indication that she wanted privacy for the two of them. And that admission by her also gave him encouragement. He wasn't a ladies' man by any stretch of the imagination, so every positive signal he received was a boon of the highest magnitude.

Kathryn grabbed two menus from a wooden bin attached to the wall and indicated that the couple should follow her. She walked past a couple dozen mostly unoccupied small tables and continued on into a more sparsely lit back room. Here, several booths lined the wall, each bathed only in dim lighting from a small lamp that was attached to the wall of each booth. Taking them to the corner booth - closest to the fireplace, as promised - Kathryn winked at Mari once again as she seated them.

"This is our special booth," she said, "for lovers and those whose hearts are pure and in need of compatible company. At the Woodkeeper's Inn, we feed the heart and soul as surely as we feed the stomach. Now, you two get to know each other. I'll be right back." With that, she placed the menus on the table and turned to walk away. Before leaving, however, she stopped short and leaned back to Tom, unable to resist one final comment. Whispering loudly, she said, "And, Thomas, dear, next time dress properly for this lovely lady. Scrubs? My, my, very tacky. Not going to win her heart THAT way." Then off she went, like lightning on roller skates.

"I take it Kathryn's very fond of you," Mari said with a smirk, turning to admire the crackling fire.

"Oh, she's just a lovely women," Tom replied, "kind of mothers me. She thinks I should be married and have a dozen kids all over the place by now."

"And why AREN'T you married?" Mari asked, then rushed to add, "As if that's any of my business. Sorry."

"No," Tom was quick to assure her, "that's fine. It's a reasonable question. I guess I just never found the right woman. I almost did once, or so I thought. But, just before I popped the question, she showed her true colors. I found out she wasn't the kind to sleep with just one person. She even admitted it. She said she'd be happy to marry me, as long as she could see other men at the same time. Do you believe that?" He shook his head. "Boy," he added, "love can sure be blind."

"And pretty stupid, too," Mari added. "Since you confessed, I'll do the same. I was married to just one man for over two decades. Two DECADES! And you know what? He hardly ever wanted to touch me."

Tom jolted straight upright in his seat, eyes wide with disbelief. "You're not serious," he said, blinking his doubt. 

"Very. We fell in love - such as it was, I suppose - in school. I never knew any other man before him. I thought he was the be all and end all of love and life. He swept me off my feet. I loved him deeply. And then, came the rude awakening that he didn't really desire me. Certainly not sexually" She stopped, as if realizing that she was divulging too much information. She'd only just met Tom, after all. She was amazed she'd said as much as she had.

Tom looked at her intently. "Go on," he said, deep interest on his face. Disbelief, perhaps, but interest nonetheless.

"Well, we've only just met. I shouldn't be burdening you with my problems."

"It's not a burden at all. Sometimes we all need to talk about things. I hope you feel comfortable enough with me to continue. But, before you do, do you mind if I just say that any man who doesn't desire YOU sexually must be GAY?! Heh...sorry...that's just my opinion. Would you mind telling me more? You don't have to, of course, but I'd like to hear it if you'd care to tell. It's entirely up to you."

Mari was blushing. Thankfully, it wasn't so easy to see in the dim lighting. She was also laughing a bit at the "gay" comment. Somehow, it contradicted her feelings of being unattractive...as did Tom's attentiveness. That one comment vindicated her, cleared her of any wrongdoing or fault in her sexless marriage. If Tom thought she was sexy, then it was her ex-husband, not her, who had the problem. Years of anguish melted away with just those few words. Silently, Mari thanked him for that.

"Are you sure?" she asked him, still wanting to talk, to verbally purge feelings of inadequacy, and yet not wanting to sound like she was bemoaning her life. 

"Absolutely," he replied, "Your husband doesn't sound so smart to me, but, hey, that's none of my business." He smiled a warm, understanding smile. "Please, tell me as much as you feel comfortable telling me."

"Well, for starters, he's my EX-husband," she continued, collecting her thoughts. Looking at Tom with somewhat sad eyes, she elaborated. "Whereas you never found your Ms. Right, I thought I HAD found my Mr. Right. I thought we were perfect. But, almost immediately, he seemed to not want...relations...with me! I couldn't figure it out. I thought I'd somehow become ugly to him, or that I wasn't exciting enough for him. I didn't know what to do."

"So, what DID you do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Yes. Absolutely nothing. I accepted things as they were. I lived with him for decades in a cold marriage."

"Why?" Tom looked astonished. "Why on earth did you just accept that? You're obviously a beautiful woman, fun, intelligent...a pure delight. Why didn't you say something to him...that you were unhappy."

"Oh, over the years, I did. But it never accomplished anything. I guess I'd somehow just come to the conclusion that it was my fault somehow. And, eventually, I just got comfortable with the marriage and didn't rock the boat."

Tom sat back, totally dumbfounded by what he was hearing. Mari realized this, and blushed again.

Tom leaned forward to speak, but just then Kathryn seemed to glide up upon them from nowhere and leaned between them. She placed something on the table and then moved her hand toward it. It was a candle. Using a long, triggered flint candle-lighter, she lit it.

"There," she said, turning off the wall-mounted light with yet another wink, "a nice romantic atmosphere. Now, tell me what you'd like, and I'll bring it quick. And then," another wink twitched her eyelid, "I'll leave you two all alone, all nice and private like. I won't come back until I hear wedding bells." She laughed, but looked at them as if she was privy to some personal information.

Tom spoke first, "I'll just have a cup of your fantastic decaf, Kathryn. Later, I might want some of that delicious double-super-rich-n-gooey chocolate ice cream of yours. How 'bout you, Mari, what would you like?"

Mari glanced at the menu for the first time. "I'll just have a root beer....for now. But I just might have some ice cream later, too."

"Oh, you HAVE to have our ice cream, honey. It's to die for." Then, looking Mari over, she got a shrewd look on her face and said, "You look like a chocolate person. I'll bet you just love chocolate, don't you, honey?"

Mari blushed again. "Why?" she asked, "do I look...?" 

Kathryn didn't let her finish the thought. "No, no, honey. You're absolutely lovely. I can just tell peoples' likes is all. Now, take Thomas here. I can tell he's got a real case of the drools for YOU, hon. Can't remember when I last saw that look on his face." Then, leaning down to her, she whispered - again in that patented ultra loud volume - "Make sure you snag this fella, honey. He's a real catch. Even if he hasn't the sense to wear better'n scrubs on a date."

Before Tom could object, Kathryn laughed good-naturedly and again turned to leave. "I'll be back in a jiff," she said, and glided out of the room soundlessly. Tom and Mari waited until after she'd returned with their drinks to continue the ex-husband conversation. But, in reality, Mari didn't really want to continue it. That was old news. Water under the bridge. She wanted to talk about other things, about life moving on. About...Tom, and what he was all about. She found him fascinating, even though she knew next to nothing about him. She also had stirrings for him. Oh, he wasn't a hunk by any stretch, but he had a way about him. The way his blue eyes twinkled, sparkled their interest. The way he spoke. His corny, chivalrous ways. She wanted to know about HIM. And talking about her ex was not going to gain her that information.

"Well, Tom," she said, "I could talk about my ex all night, but that wouldn't make me feel better about the situation, about my life, about my SELF. Let's just say I spent a lot of wasted years in a relationship that was not the least bit fulfilling, in any way. So, I've decided I want to move on. I'm divorced now, and I've left that part of my life in the past. I don't want to feel that unhappy ever again, so you're looking at the NEW Mari!" She laughed a quiet, nervous laugh.

"Okay," Tom said, "no ex talk. That's fine. And, may I add that I find the NEW Mari to be just delightful. You're beautiful, obviously intelligent, have a delightful personality, and - your ex's opinions notwithstanding - I think you're one helluva sexy woman. So there. I said it. I think you're sexy." He looked at her, a combination of awkward shyness and total honesty mingling openly on his smiling face.

Mari's eyes lit up. Her pleased smile alone could've lit the room brighter than a hundred of Kathryn's flickering candles. She was so appreciative that Tom said she was sexy, that tears actually began to well up at the corners of her eyes. She wasn't used to being complimented, to being thought of as sexy or attractive. She looked away and blinked her eyes quickly, to fight back the tears. Tom noticed, but didn't say anything. He didn't want to embarrass her.

Mari needed to change the subject. Despite Tom's silence, she felt awkward at that one single moment. She needed to divert the conversation, veer it into a completely different direction. Her brain scrambled for something to say to end the emotional moment. What it came up with shocked her. She didn't do it out of meanness or to ridicule Tom, but her brain just pulled the thought from her subconscious mind. As soon as she spoke the words, she regretted it.

Fumbling, uncomfortable for the first time all evening, Mari blurted, "So, Tom, am I safe in assuming you have a foot fetish?"




Marisol: Passion in Bloom



Dead silence.

That dumbfounded look again crossed Tom's face, and he again sat at rigid attention. His eyes were wide as saucers and he blinked, a totally stupid look on his face. Mari wasn't sure how he took the question, but she feared the worst. In her mind, she called herself "dumb" at least a dozen times.

Then Tom seemed to relax. He shrugged his shoulders as if he realized that the cat was out of the bag, and whatever he said didn't matter now, anyway. He laughed, looking at his coffee at first, then making tentative eye contact with Mari. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. She was deathly afraid that her faux pas had quite definitely ruined what could've been a wonderful evening.

But, Tom just chuckled. "Was I THAT obvious? Damn, and I always thought I was so slick and suave." While it was a little disconcerting to finally hear verbalized what both he and Mari already knew, it wasn't as devastating as Tom thought it would be. So, Mari knew his deep, dark secret, and now openly expressed her knowledge. There was nothing he could do to change that, and he knew full well that trying to lie about it wouldn't work, so he decided to just admit to it and hopefully move on.

Mari still didn't reply. She was biting her lower lip, still waiting for the hammer to drop. Tom SEEMED to be okay with her social blunder, but she felt that it being said so bluntly and cruelly HAD to hurt. She felt sorry that she might have opened up some long-scarred wound, and here he'd been so understanding with her problems. Her eyes showed her fears and regret.

"Oh, don't worry," Tom soothed her, "it's no big deal. Yeah, I do have a fondness for a woman's...well...feet. I don't know why. I just do. But, hey, that's not ALL I like about a woman. I mean, it's ALL good. Like... well...female feet are just so cute...sexy even. I just think they're adorable. But, believe me, if I saw you totally naked, I wouldn't dive for your feet. Well, I MIGHT...but then I'd dive at every other part of you, too."

He realized he'd started babbling. He put his hand over his mouth, and just started laughing. Mari burst into laughter, too, a nervous laughter that exploded from her unbidden, but not unwelcome.

"Oh, my God," she said, "I'm so sorry I asked that. I had no right to..."

"No, no, it's all right," Tom waved his hands at her, "I must've looked like a real idiot at the mall for you to pick up on that. I'm the one who should apologize. I must've looked exactly like that very pervert you're so worried that I might be. Wow. No wonder you think I'm going to Jack the Ripper you!"

Both of them started stammering apologies, neither of them even coming close to finishing a single sentence. They both babbled at the same time, neither particularly coherent. But that didn't matter. They were so busy apologizing back and forth, that neither heard the other's apologies anyway.

Then, for several minutes, they simply sat there laughing. It was a combination laugh...part nervousness, part tension release, and part of it was the type of laugh that accompanies a sexual discovery...the titter of private confession...for both of them. Mari laughed because her own desire to meet a man who'd pamper and soothe her feet somehow jumped from her subconscious and bounded boldly to the surface. Tom laughed because his secret had been discovered...and this lovely woman STILL was willing to have a drink and a civil conversation with him. She knew of his fetish, and didn't treat him like a leper. Why that made him laugh was beyond him.

After the laughing ended, Tom made a bold statement. "I hope my fetish doesn't bother you too much. Mari, I honestly do think you're a beautiful, sexy woman, and I'd hate for you to think I only asked you to have coffee with me because I wanted to...well...you know. I swear, I didn't. There's something about you that I really, truly like. You're amazingly easy to talk to."

"Tom," Mari replied, feeling compelled to somehow make things right again, "I have a confession to make. When I caught you looking at my feet at the mall, I wasn't offended in the least. Actually, I was...well...thrilled by it."

Tom's face immediately adopted that by now patented dumb look again. "Huh? I hope you're not being sarcastic." Mari wasn't sure if she saw doubt or pain in those eyes, but one thing was certain. She NEVER wanted to see pain in those gorgeous blue eyes.


"No," she laughed, "not at all. You see, my feet are very sensitive. In fact, I'd have to say they're the most sensitive part of on my body. Well...let's make that SECOND most sensitive part," she laughed again. "I've always had this fantasy that some man would climb the highest mountain and swim the deepest ocean, just to give me a foot rub! Isn't that a riot?"

Tom just sat there, silently at first, with a fantasizing look on his face. "God," he finally said softly, "I'd be happy to climb a mountain or swim an ocean to rub YOUR feet. In fact, I'd consider myself lucky for the chance. I think ANY man would feel lucky for a privilege like that. A beautiful woman like you, so cute and sexy. I mean, could it get any better than that? Your feet are just soooooo beautiful, Mari. Really, they are." He spoke the words dreamily, the candlelight sparkling in his eyes, the parade of wistful thoughts ending in a long sigh that hissed slowly from between his smiling lips.

Mari nearly passed out. As she looked at Tom, his features became hazy, his face melting and wavering in her foggy vision. Did he actually say what she just thought he said? For a moment, she entered his dream world, her expression becoming equally wistful, her lips sighing along with his. They had the same photographs clicking by in their heads. They were on the same wavelength. For a brief instant, they both zoned out into the same fantasy.

"Mari, are you all right?" Tom finally asked, noting her look of disorientation, but not realizing it was the same look he himself had had only moments ago.

"I'm fine," she said, forcing the words from her mouth. She was picturing Tom rubbing her feet in his strong hands, fingers kneading away the day's aches, soothing her soles and toes with loving attention. She was sitting there, sighing and dreaming, when Tom spoke again.

"I'm sorry I stared at your feet, Mari. I know I must've seemed like a total pervert. I'm not, really. I like to think I'm very sensual about things. I mean, I don't jump women and tear off their shoes or anything..."

"Tom...Tom..." Mari interrupted him, "you don't have to apologize. It was my fault, really. I was deliberately teasing you. I knew you were looking at my feet, that you were interested in them, so I purposely let my shoe drop. Well, the second time, anyway. Who knows, maybe the first time, too. And I purposely wiggled my toes and such. I was DELIGHTED that you liked my feet. I mean, I wasn't out to seduce you with my feet or anything, but, like I said, I've had fantasies about men pampering them, and when I noticed your interest, well, I confess I laid it on a little thick. I guess I was kind of...cruel even...teasing you like that."

Tom was smiling now. His eyes were shining both happily and mischievously. Mari stopped babbling her confession, looking at him with her own piqued interest. "What?" she asked, a slow smile brightening her face.

Tom's smile mirrored hers. "I was just thinking..."

"Thinking what?" Mari asked, her spine again tingling expectantly.

"Mari," Tom asked, somewhat nervously, "how would you like me to give you my very best foot massage?"

Mari nearly knocked over her root beer. It was her turn to blink at Tom with saucer-shaped eyes. "What?" she asked. "How? Where? Oh, no, really, that's okay." She deliberately bit down on her lip to keep from screaming "Yes! Yes! YES!!"

"Seriously," Tom said, "I can do it right here. It's dark enough, private enough. I can order you a sinfully delicious ice cream dessert, and while you enjoy it immensely, you can slip off your shoes, plop your feet up on my lap, and I can give your lovely feet the attention they deserve. I know it might sound kind of odd, but why not? Believe me, I'd love to make you feel wonderful. And I do give a really good foot massage, I swear."

"Oh, my," she said, "Oh my, oh my, oh my..." She was staring at him, sipping her soft drink, but with her eyes locked onto his. "Are you serious...really serious?"

"I've never been more serious," he replied. He was chewing his own lower lip, too, half expecting her to laugh at him, despite her recent confession. Or maybe storm out of the restaurant calling him unsavory names.

"You mean, I get to sit here and eat my fill of chocolate ice cream, while you sit there rubbing my feet?" An expression of total incredulousness literally radiated from her face. Hope glowed in there as well. Tom was able to read both glows and grinned a happy grin. Mari's lungs suddenly stopped working, holding her last breath captive as they waited for his reply. Her toes were already squirming around in her shoes, hoping against hope that they might soon be pampered by Tom's attentive fingers.

"Yup, that's the plan. If it meets with your approval, of course." He added with a sly smile, "Keep in mind, that you owe me for that cruel teasing at the mall. It's your own fault I feel compelled to pamper your feet. YOU did this to me." His smile was wicked now. He wasn't serious about playing the guilt card - and he knew Mari knew this as well - but, somehow, it just felt like the right thing to say.

"Well, I guess I WAS rather evil, wasn't I? And here, you being such a gentleman and all. I suppose I DO owe you the chance to show off your massaging skills, don't I?" She shuddered with growing desire as each word danced playfully from between her lips.

"You most certainly do. You have to give your knight a chance to show how his only concern is for your personal comfort and pleasure. And that's my plan...to make you feel so scrumptious that you squeal like a little girl. So, what do you think of my plan, Milady?" 

"Oh, my...I LOVE that plan!" She looked almost giddy, barely able to contain her nterest. "That is one FINE plan, if you ask me! Chocolate and a foot rub? Oh, my...I'll either fall asleep and drool chocolate all over myself, or I'll hop over this table and kiss you so hard your face'll break!"

Tom laughed, completely delighted with both her enthusiasm for his idea and with her delicious sense of humor. "Well, if I get to vote," he grinned, "I'd have to vote for the table-hopping, face breaking myself. If my foot massage talents relaxed you to the point where you fell asleep...well...that would be a wonderful compliment... but I have to admit, a good, face-breaking kiss...well, that's hard to compete with."

"Well," she replied, lightly chewing her bottom lip again, "who knows? If you rub my feet really, really well, there just might be some table-hopping involved at some point." Her eyes twinkled at him, and he shivered inside at just the thought of kissing her. "After all," she continued, "a faithful knight's efforts SHOULD be rewarded." Then, like a thief in the night, she stole one of Kathryn's patented wicked winks and sent it flying at Tom. He caught it, gratefully embracing the promise that it held.

"Then, what do you say I call Kathryn over here and get you your ice cream so we can get started? How about it, Mari? You ready to have your feet soothed beyond your wildest dreams?"

"Oh, Tom, you bet I am. Sign me up! My feet are yours, my pampering knight!" Mari started squirming in her seat just thinking about it.

"Fantastic. You won't be disappointed, Mari. I promise." She had no doubt that he spoke the truth.

While Mari sat there glassy-eyed, staring at him, contemplating foot-spoilings to come, Tom called Kathryn over. Mari didn't even remember Kathryn coming to the table, nor did she recall ordering her ice cream. Her mind was in a misty fog of expectation. She could only clearly remember one thing. She remembered distinctly that she couldn't wait to kick off her shoes!       Tom was as excited as Mari was when he motioned to Kathryn to come to their table. The irrepressible Kathryn came quickly, smiling broadly. "Yes, lovebirds, what can I do for you?"

Mari blushed at the "lovebirds" comment, but smiled through her redness. Somehow, Tom enjoyed her embarrassment, thinking she looked endearingly cute with rosy cheeks. 

"The lady will have your finest chocolate ice cream," Tom announced.

"Ahh, you mean our world famous Woodkeeper's Knotty Chocolate?" Kathryn grinned. Looking at Mari, she added, "It's guaranteed to cure anyone's craving for chocolate and nuts. Thick, creamy chocolate and more nuts than you can shake a squirrel at! You're gonna love it, hon." When Tom indicated that he'd hold off on his own dessert for now, Kathryn whirled and glided off to the kitchen.

"I'm sure I will," Mari told her retreating form, getting antsier by the second. All she could think of was "Chocolate and a foot rub, chocolate and a foot rub, chocolate and a foot rub..." over and over.

"You're not having any ice cream? You raved about it earlier." Mari could almost predict Tom's answer.

Leaning forward and grinning widely, he said, "Oh, but, I'll be much too busy pampering Milady's feet for her. When will I have time to indulge in something as trivial as ice cream?"

Mari tried a return volley of something wonderfully witty, but found her tongue getting in its own way. After a couple of failed starts, her mouth finally mumbled a simple, "Oh, but of course. Silly me." Again her toes tingled.

By the time Kathryn returned, Mari had just about fantasized herself into an uncontrolled frenzy. And the purely evil sight of the heaping bowl of sinful chocolate, decadently lavished throughout with nuts, was making more than just her toes tingle. She licked her lips and looked over at Tom.

"You, sir, are definitely trying to sway me in some way. No man is this kind and generous without some kind of ulterior motive. What are your intentions, may I ask?" Her eyes twinkled, and his twinkled back. The look on his face was almost as if he'd been caught...caught plying her with chocolate and pampering, in a sinister, covert plot to eventually have his way with her. If this was his plan, she wasn't sure if she could resist it... or if she even wanted to.

"Why, I'm offended," Tom said with dramatic flair. "You wound me, Milady. I seek only to delight your senses, give you the best food and drink in the kingdom, and humbly massage your royal feet until you sigh and drool chocolate all over your sweet, lovely self."

"Oh, you're good," Mari grinned. "You know all the right buttons to push, don't you? Well, then, Sir Knight - or is it Sir Knave? - I allow you to spoil me for the time being. HOWEVER...at the first sign of some evil master plan on your part I will yank my feet away from you and run off with my chocolate. Is that understood?"

Tom had a good chuckle at that one. "Yes, Milady," he said, trying to reel in his laughter, "I promise I'll do naught but soothe thy aching tootsies. You have my word on't. I am here to please you, not beguile you."

Mari picked up the spoon next to the bowl of ice cream and dug in. She watched in awe as the thick chocolate almost erotically caressed the spoon with its sticky sweetness. She brought the spoon slowly to her lips, savoring the moment just prior to filling her mouth with ecstasy. Then, unable to resist any longer, she plunged the spoon home, her taste buds instantly reveling in the combination of the sweet, sweet chocolate and the crunchy nuts. It was chocolate heaven. Kathryn had NOT been exaggerating.

"You like?" Tom asked, already knowing she did from the nearly orgasmic look on her face.

Mari didn't answer. Instead, she lifted the bowl of ice cream from the table and held it in her hand. Leaning back against the plush back of the booth's seat, she then spooned another mouthful of wicked chocolate between her lips and over her tongue. Her eyes fluttered. She sunk into the back of the seat. Then she looked at Tom and decided to give him his reply.

As Tom sat grinning at her, getting no end of enjoyment from her obvious worship of chocolate, he clearly heard two sounds - sounds quite familiar, even from the very recent past. "Clunk, clunk," he heard most distinctly, and knew instantly what it was. His heart skipped a beat as it was now his turn to anticipate.

Mari grinned a chocolate grin, sitting back like pampered royalty, and plopped her feet up on Tom's lap. He looked down, and saw those bare feet wiggling playfully - and expectantly - on his thighs, her heels mere inches from his crotch. Those impatient feet squirmed and flexed and stretched, obviously eager for their pampering to begin.

Tom looked up at Mari, seeing the candlelight sparkle in her eyes. From this particular angle, he could see how lovely those eyes were, with their predominance of green dotted with specks of yellow and amber. Such lovely eyes. He could easily have gotten lost in them.

"Yoo hoo," Mari sang, "isn't there something you're neglecting, Sir Knight?"

"Oh, sorry," Tom said softly, his eyes returning to the prancing toes. "One thing I would NEVER do, Mari, is neglect you - ANY part of you." 

Just as Mari giggled into her next spoonful of ice cream, Tom sighed and grabbed her left foot in both of his strong hands. He started kneading the sole with his thumbs, working from the heel up to the toes, slowly, squeezing her foot from both sides as he pushed his thumbs into her sole flesh hard enough to do some good. Mari sighed, having to put the bowl of ice cream back down onto the table for fear of dropping it. Her treacherous hands - not to mention the rest of her body - had suddenly become dangerously rubbery.

Tom continued kneading, knowing he'd instantly struck a nerve. Mari seemed to sink into her seat, her hands lying limply on her lap. Her pupils rolled back in her head, the solid whites visible only for an instant before her fluttering eyelids dropped shut with finality. Her mouth fell open, the underside of her upper lip still glistening with melted chocolate dessert.

Mari, phasing in and out of reality, felt persistent thumbs begin in the center of her sole and then forcefully work their way out toward the sides of her foot, only to move quickly back to the center and begin the outward kneading all over again, moving inch by inch along the bottom of her foot. God, what a sensual treat! Such a relaxing - yet oh, so stimulating - way to finish a day of shopping! She almost felt as if she were committing some sort of unwritten sin!

After what seemed blissful eons of having her sole so completely relaxed, Mari noticed - in a far off way - that the hard-working thumbs had taken a break. In place of that brain-melting pleasure, eight mighty fingers now joined those very same thumbs in kneading and squeezing the sides of her feet, again from heel to toes. Her entire foot moved with the strength of those attentive fingers, and her mind again began to sail away. It felt as if every nerve ending in her foot was firing at once. They seemed to sigh their pleasure in unison, a sensual chorus of joy.

Next, those diligent fingers found a new area to soothe, though this time with much reduced force. While Tom's thumbs worked in circles on the ball of her foot, his fingers more lightly stimulated her instep, playing it like a flute from above, caressing it more gently between the stronger workings of his thumbs. Mari had sunk into the booth's seat as deeply as her body could go. Like a mannequin whose strings had been cut, she simply lay in the seat, as weak as a baby and as pliable as putty - the latter of which, in effect, she currently had become in Tom's hands.

Tom was immensely enjoying massaging Mari's foot. It was soft and smooth and lovely, like the woman herself. And seeing the look of pure ecstasy on her face gave him a great rush. He was melting her, body and soul, just by massaging her foot. He felt incredibly giddy that he could give her so much pleasure. The fact that her feet were quite sexy and a pure joy to touch didn't mar the moment, either. Sweeter feet in his lap he couldn't possibly imagine.




Marisol: Passion in Bloom



Her sole, instep and the sides of her foot having been properly pampered, Tom now focused on the more hard to please heel. Bringing all fingers and both thumbs to bear on that small area, he kneaded and squeezed it with a vengeance, knowing full well that more forceful measures were needed here. Mari sat across from him, grinning like a loon, her ice cream melting in its bowl, as Tom did his best to comfort the stubborn flesh of her heel.

But, it was when Tom's fingers advanced along her foot, lightly squeezing her soft flesh between them as they inched forward, that Mari knew true ecstasy was on the immediate horizon. When he finally grabbed her toes, en masse, between his seemingly all-knowing fingers, Mari nearly oozed down the front of her seat and congealed into a steaming heap under the table, becoming nothing more than a puddle of happy goo on the wooden floor.

Strong fingers squeezed and kneaded her tired toes. First, thumbs and fingers attacked her toes as a group, manipulating all her toes in unison, making them undulate in waves as the day's aches rushed from each toe like a retreating invader, beaten off by Tom's relentless fingers.

But, as far as Tom was concerned, that wasn't good enough for Mari. No. Massaging her toes en masse was fine for...superficial...pampering. But each lovely toe deserved a thorough, stimulating massage all its own. And that's just what he did. He took each toe between his fingers and thumbs and kneaded it individually, lovingly lavishing upon it all the pleasure he possibly could. Working from the base of the toes to their tips, he made sure not a single millimeter of any one of them went unattended to. He kneaded them, squeezed them as he ran his thumb from base to tip, stretched them gently and even twisted them lightly and rotated them, all to make sure every muscle, every fiber, every joint and knuckle - every single CELL of each toe was spoiled completely rotten!

And all the while Mari fought not to drool on herself. She had no clue where she was. All she knew was that something wonderful was happening way down there below her ankle. Something wondrous and delicious - and she hoped it would never end. The ice cream was forgotten, and sat mostly uneaten in its bowl as some sort of bizarre chocolate and nut soup. Occasionally, Mari looked hazily down at it, knowing somewhere inside her that she should somehow be upset that it had gone unenjoyed by her chocolate-loving taste buds. But, in the grand scheme of things, that brown puddle of ice cream and nuts didn't matter a lick. All that mattered was that her entire body was energized - though she couldn't move a muscle - and that she tingled with unending glee from the topmost hair on her hazy head to the tip of the nail on her longest toe.

Tom was still loving his end of things as well. The softness of Mari's toes was a pure delight, and they're loveliness was accentuated by the presence of a shining toe ring...as if her toes weren't sexy enough. The painted nails screamed for his attention, and he longed to bend down and kiss each one, but he was afraid the mood would be lost, and Mari would think him a pervert after all. So, he contented himself with pampering her foot, admiring its beauty discreetly - fantasizing being able to do more - and ultimately giving Mari the pleasure she deserved.

But, alas, all does not go as planned. And it all started out quite innocently. As he rubbed and kneaded her tender foot, Tom noticed that it was getting quite hot. Long minutes of continued toe-rubbing was warming them up to the point where he wondered if it might be having a reverse effect, making Mari's foot actually UNcomfortable. What good would it be to soothe her foot in one way, only to make it uncomfortable in another? So, he came up with an idea...though one that in retrospect was a bit unwise.

Mari was lying back, semi-comatose, enjoying her miraculous foot massage, when she began to feel something else. Something soothing, yet, oddly...cooling?...going on at her foot. It took every ounce of will power she had in her to lift her head from the back rest, lower her brain-peeking eyeballs and force open her fluttering eyelids, to see what was occurring down at her toes.

That was when she caught Tom with his hand in the cookie jar. Looking across the table to where her pampering knight had lifted her foot from his lap, she saw his fingers still hard at work comforting her sighing toes. But, she also saw Tom bending over her foot, his lips forming a tight, round "O" as they blew on her toes! At first, her mind was still numb, and the vision didn't quite connect with the logic centers of her brain. But, slowly, it became clear what he was doing. Mari wasn't sure how to react. Deep inside, it seemed kind of sweet, and it certainly felt nice, so she had no problem with it. But, she wasn't going to let Tom know that.

Tom continued to blow on her toes for several minutes, still rubbing ambitiously, before he noticed Mari looking at him. His lips stopped in mid-blow, puckered, his cheeks puffed like a food-hoarding squirrel. His face reddened instantly. He smiled, a sheepish smile, but at the same time a smile that was ever so sly. He slowly exhaled the remainder of air from between his puffed cheeks and straightened up.

"Uh...I thought your toes might be getting warm from all the rubbing." The look on his face was somewhere between repentance and mischief.

"Really?" Mari asked, holding back a smile. "So, you thought that blowing on them would cool them off?"

"Well, actually...yeah," he replied, the redness in his face subsiding a bit. He still wasn't sure if she was going to be upset or not, but at lease she hadn't gone ballistic. He was thankful for small favors.

Mari bit her lower lip to keep from giggling. "Well, in that case, it does feel nice. It's a nice touch, actually. To be honest with you, the massage is wonderful, but my toes WERE getting a little warm." She sat back in her seat, snuggling into the cushion again, and shut her eyes once more. "Okay, then, you can blow on my feet while you massage them. That's fine. But, whatever you do, don't stop rubbing. It's just heavenly."

Tom, feeling he'd dodged a bullet, happily bent down and resumed blowing on her toes, his fingers returning to their pampering duties. Oh, how he would've loved to...

"Oh," Mari seemed to read his mind, "and if you're thinking about kissing my toes, you can't." With her eyes still shut, she couldn't stop her lips from curling into a deliberately cruel smile. Even without seeing him, she knew his face looked like a scolded puppy's, a puppy whose master was denying him a particularly wonderful treat. Once again she scolded herself for being so mean. She just couldn't figure out why she so enjoyed teasing this poor man. Maybe it made her feel sexy that he wanted her so. Maybe she felt sexually powerful for the first time in a whole lot of years. But, enjoy it she did.

Nonplussed, Tom tried to make light of her jab, by saying something he thought might intrigue her. "Well, then," he offered with a sly grin she couldn't see, "I guess that means I can't dip your toes in chocolate and then suck it off, huh?" He eyed her hopefully, wishing that his remark might make her change her tune. He saw her flinch, and her teeth briefly gnawed her lower lip, but she held firm.

"No, Sir Knight, I have to put SOME limitations on you, don't I?" Brave words, yes, but a clear vision of him sucking chocolate off her toes had her quickly - and tightly - squeezing her thighs together. But she was determined to keep control of the situation, not let anything get TOO out of hand, no matter how difficult it was.

Tom's hopes were dashed, though he was sure he'd struck a nerve. Such gorgeous feet, so well cared for. And right there in his hands. Close enough to his lips for him to blow on them... but those same lips had been expressly forbidden to kiss them. Oh, such a black day. Such a cold, cold, black day. Oh, well, he could still massage them, blow on them, and give Mari the pampering of her life. That would have to do. Mari was lovely, and he'd happily settle for those thrills alone if he had to. After all, he was LUCKY to be so very close to her deliciously sexy feet at all. Just being allowed to touch them, bring his wishful lips so close to them... how could he not be happy with an incredible - and hardly believable - turn on like that? He was definitely not going to rock the boat, or this lovely woman might go poof!

Then, wickedly, Mari thought of a way to modify her previous statement, perhaps feeling pity for Tom, and wanting to give him a ray of hope. "That's right," she said with a grin, still keeping her eyes closed while he continued to rub, "I know you want to kiss my feet, Tom. But, I won't allow it." Again, he felt as if she'd stabbed him in the heart... with a crowbar. Was she rubbing it in? No, she wasn't THAT cruel, was she? He preferred to believe that she must have something twisted up her sleeve. "No," she continued, chuckling quietly now, "you can't kiss my feet. Not even one smoochy kiss. Nope. Well...at least... not until you're done rubbing them. And only if you continue to do the fabulous job that you are now. If your fingers slack off for even one brief instant, your lips get NO reward this day!" Her ear to ear sly grin showed off her beautiful mouthful of solid, straight, pearly white teeth - teeth which seemed to glint with evil glee. Then, reading where Tom's mind was surely headed, Mari quickly added, "In any case, Sir Knight, no chocolate on the toes. Never on a first date," she laughed.

With a sigh that was so loud that it encouraged still more laughter from Mari, Tom started rubbing her feet with even more enthusiasm. So now he knew... he had to EARN those tootsie kisses, and he had every intention of doing so. Somehow he even preferred it that way. He could control his own destiny. And, if that was the case, Mari's toes - and every other scrumptious part of her - would surely be his. It was simply a matter of giving her everything she wanted. Yes, he could handle that. It was HIS teeth that now glinted with glee.

So enthusiastic had his foot pampering become, that as he bent to blow on them, he pulled those wiggling toes just a smidgen closer to his lips, almost kissing them purely by accident!. His heart pounded as he kneaded and spread those toes, blowing even between them to make sure they were completely cool and dry. Mari noticed both his increased attention and the shorter distance between the tips of her toes and his blowing lips. She chuckled softly to herself, her lips pressed tightly together to keep what little sound that did escape from being heard.

This was all too delicious. She had no intention of ending it anytime soon. And, from the looks of things, neither did Tom. He rubbed and blew until his fingers began to ache and his cheeks grew tired and sore from all the unaccustomed activity. So, then, why did he grin so through all the pain?      Mari had never had a man kiss her feet before, or blow on them for that matter. Hell, it had been a monumental task just to get her ex-husband to give them a quick, cursory rub! But, Tom was obviously very good at giving foot massages - and probably at massaging other body parts, too - and her feet WERE very sensitive to sensual stimuli, so why not indulge him? He was an incredibly cute man, sweet, intelligent and clearly he enjoyed pleasing her. He was kind and articulate and gentle, yet strong in his own way. And hadn't she had fantasies of being pampered and spoiled and worshipped by an adoring man? Tom fit the bill in every way. So, if he wanted to smooch her toes, she had no problem with that. If his hands could make her feet feel this good, how good might his lips make them feel? Maybe he'd even nibble her toes, or - dare she think it? - suck them? Isn't that what men with foot fetishes do? She squirmed ever so slightly. The chocolate-covered-toes scenario aside, she was sure that Tom's lips encircling her toes would be an awesome sensation. Even though no sound was escaping her smiling lips - except the occasional sigh - she covered her mouth with her hand as she thought such wonderfully wicked thoughts. 

The tingles were becoming stronger by the second, radiating upward from her toes. Tiny sparks seemed to race up to her already moistening sex, and even further up to her hardened nipples. She couldn't resist sneaking quick,discreet peeks as Tom bent over her foot, fingers working, mouth blowing, her spoiled toes dancing their joy before his yearning lips. Just watching his busy fingers and thumbs soothingly manipulating her toes back and forth and from side to side, while those cute lips puckered and blew repeatedly on her painted toenails, was making those sparks intensify. If this continued, she just MIGHT jump over the table and rape the poor man!

But Mari couldn't dredge up the words to tell Tom to put the brakes on. Every time she tried to speak, all that squeezed out was another sigh. And her hormones were kicking in big time. One of her favorite fantasies was to have snarling, grunting, heated animal sex in the restroom of a restaurant. That fantasy was playing in her mind now - in high definition and with surround sound - with Tom as her horny partner.

She hardly knew Tom, and here she was fantasizing ripping off his clothes and throwing him down on the Woodkeeper's bathroom floor! How had it come to this? It was insane! She NEVER let men get too intimate with her until she'd known them a respectably long time. And after two decades of a passionless marriage, you'd think she'd be more careful, even now! Yet...here it was; she was rapidly approaching a crossroads. One direction led to sanity and propriety - the other led to a passion she knew she wouldn't be able to control. And once it started, she had no idea where it would end.

Thankfully, that crossroads was never arrived at. Tom stopped kneading and blowing, the sudden lack of sensation on her foot causing Mari to jolt from her erotic reverie. Her mind began to uncloud, though only for a second. She didn't even have time to consider why he'd stopped, and actually, she didn't have to. He only stopped long enough to lower that happy left foot to his lap, and instantly pick up the right one. Before the first foot could even stop tingling, Tom was hard at work on the impatient second. Just as before, he began the massage regimen with strong thumb kneading of her sole. Mari slumped into the seat again, eyes rolling back to peek at her brain for a second time, and her mouth dropped open again as sigh after sigh issued forth. In what little coherent thought Mari still had left, she found herself with only one hope - that she didn't drool.

Another of Mari's fantasies rushed to the forefront of her brain as Tom did wickedly wonderful things to this second, sighing foot. She'd always wanted to tease a man with her feet in his crotch while they ate in a swanky restaurant, her toes mercilessly playing with his pants-covered penis below the concealing tabletop. She loved the idea that he'd have to sit there and endure the sublime torture, lest he make a scene. Her feet would take his throbbing member between them, or perhaps a single foot would sneak itself between his legs and stroke up and down while he squirmed and rubbed sweat from his brow. The sex afterwards would be nothing short of earth-shattering. 

But, sometimes, thought begets action, without our even knowing it. In Mari's case, it occurred just as Tom again bent to blow on her toes as he vigorously rubbed them. The foot in his lap seemed to suddenly exhibit a will of its own, the still wiggling and flexing toes inching their way closer and closer to his crotch. Mari thought it was all happening in her mind, but in reality her foot was reacting to the fantasy being broadcast in her brain, acting it out with the apparent belief that it was its duty to do so... and with obvious relish.

It was a case of two erotically muddled minds not having the ability to focus on more than a couple of stimulations at one time. Mari's brain was torn between its soul-numbing foot rub and the crotch-teasing fantasy in sensurround, while Tom was striving valiantly to comfort and please her at the same time he was enjoying the warmth, softness and sensuality of her oh so sexy foot. And so it was that neither of them noticed Mari's other foot's secret agenda.

Without her even knowing it, Mari's toes began searching for Tom's manhood. Those toes were delighted when they indeed found a scrumptiously firm bulge in his pants. They took liberties with it. For every firm action of his thumbs or fingers on her pampered foot, the mischievous one stroked and kneaded the throbbing tent between Tom's legs. Alas, if they both weren't already so brain dead, they surely would've enjoyed it more, either or both of them taking eager advantage of a golden opportunity! But, conscious or unconscious though the act may have been, both Mari and Tom did respond to it.

The impish toes wiggled their way up and down Tom's throbbing shaft, feeling the warmth even through the thin scrub material. They stroked it brazenly, up and down, delighting in the thickening, hardening response. Those sensitive toes could almost feel the hard, veiny contour of its surface, and that made them even more curious. Emboldened, those giddy toes worked their way up to the head, which throbbed so deliciously as they encircled it and had their way with it. That foot's only regret was that it's sister wasn't there to enjoy the fun with it, to help it capture and tease this most succulent prize. But that just meant it would have to have all the fun by itself. And so, it set about playing with that firm muscle in earnest, stroking both head and shaft, and even plunging deep down between Tom's legs to search for that surely bloated but tightening sack. Tom must've been aware of this brazen, teasing assault on at least some level, for he spread his legs ever so slightly, allowing those burrowing toes to find yet another prize. His intermittent gasping on the toes he was rubbing and blowing on also gave away his subconscious awareness of what was going on between his legs. Mari was likewise suffering from staggered breathing, though how much was due to Tom's foot pamperings and how much was due to her toes' crotch and cock exploration would've been anyone's guess. Needless to say, since Tom wasn't stopping her, Mari's foot spent long, long minutes gleefully playing with those receptive genitals.


At some point during her foot's odyssey between Tom's legs, Mari suddenly realized that fantasy and reality had become one. Her eyes shot open, and she blushed - though Tom never saw this. Actually thinking clearly enough to realize that suddenly pulling her foot back from his crotch might clue him in to what had happened, Mari instead withdrew her naughty foot slowly, sliding it back and away from his obviously excited member almost as slowly as a snail might make a leisurely retreat. She could only pray Tom hadn't noticed the liberties her toes had taken. He hadn't. He probably thought his erection was from the pleasure he was receiving from touching Mari's adorable feet. Mari sighed with relief. Her indiscretion had thankfully gone unnoticed, or so it had appeared. But Tom's flushed face may have indicated otherwise. Still, Mari grinned. Whether he'd noticed or not, it had been one lovely time her foot had had playing with his obviously above average penis. If only he hadn't been busy with her foot rub. She would've loved to have him fully aware of the cock teasing, squirming helplessly as her feet drove him crazy. Ah, but perhaps that could be saved for another day.

Neither Mari nor Tom had the faintest idea how long the foot massage lasted, but long before it was done Mari's Knotty Chocolate was not only melted, but warm to the touch. When Tom finally finished with her feet, they both felt as if they'd been re-created, born anew. They tingled warmly, in spite of the lengths he'd gone to to keep them cool. Mari, her entire body invigorated yet unable to move at first, slowly climbed out of her pleasure-lined mental abyss. By the time she could focus again, both her feet were resting comfortably on Tom's lap, only the occasional caress on her toes or insteps letting her know that his hands were still nearby.