2 comments/ 44691 views/ 13 favorites Working for Alex By: colleenslittletoy It was during my research with my latest project that I realized I needed additional assistance. While interviewing candidates, I first met Alex. The process of interviewing people is hard for me. My social skills are not the greatest because I'm basically very shy. To make it easier, after reading all the resumes, I narrowed the applications down to three prospects. Although my job is highly technical, the work I needed done was fairly menial. Basically, it consisted of typing and copying documents, filing, and some research. Since I am single and working out of my home, there was a certain amount of personal chores included in the job description—grocery shopping, dry cleaning retrieval, making meals, house cleaning, that kind of thing. Because I required personal chores I felt I had to offer a higher salary than minimum wage but that wasn't a problem, in fact, money wasn't a problem for me at all. With the amount I had inherited I could afford three or four people for years and not feel the pinch. I hated mundane chores and avoided them whenever possible. Since it was my money, adding personal chores became part of the job. Because some of the work required a basic knowledge of computers most of the candidates were young people, mainly kids just out of college. My expectations for quality people were not high. It definitely was not something one could do for a career. The day I set aside for interviewing was a sunny one. After a couple of cups of coffee, I mentally prepared for the arduous ordeal. The first applicant came promptly at ten o'clock, a good sign as I'm a stickler for being on time. He was an awkward fellow from back East. According to his transcripts, he graduated somewhere in the middle of his class. A pleasant enough of a bloke, he unfortunately, showed absolutely no signs of any creativity. Ordinarily, I could overlook a handicap like that but he also seemed to lack any kind of motivation. After asking him about himself it seemed he had no higher goal in life than to play video games, so I bid him a fond farewell and scratched him off the list. The second candidate was a handsome, charming young man. His school records indicated that it took him five years to get through college instead of the customary four. The explanation, he informed me, with a wide and charming grin, was that he minored in parties. "Almost my major," he said with a wink. His supreme confidence bothered me and I rejected him. Not because of his qualifications, those were fine, but because of the risk he posed. The risk was mine. Allow me to explain. A couple of years prior, I hired a young man, Todd, for help with another project. At first, he worked out just fine, in fact we became friends, or so I thought. After a few weeks, I felt so comfortable around him that I invited him to join me to a movie. We hit it off so well that soon we were going out to dinner every night, my treat of course. Next thing I knew, he suggested bar-hopping and we were socializing around town, hitting the bars and nightclubs into the wee hours in the morning. In fact, because of the lateness, he often spent the night at my house, which was no problem because it is a rather large home with many bedrooms. The overnight stays became fairly regular. I didn't think anything about it at first, but, as they say, familiarity breeds contempt. Eventually the time we spent together turned out to be a nightmare. What I didn't know about the guy was that Todd was a particularly domineering type fellow. Initially, this trait suited me fine because I'm the opposite, rather laid back to the point of going along with anything. Before he even finished the day's chores, Todd started making plans for the evening. At first it was nothing more that choosing which movie we would see without consulting me. Then, he started making dinner reservations, always at the most expensive places. If I wanted to leave the bars early, go home and rest, he wouldn't let me, persuading me to stay until closing. Eventually, the work suffered. Todd set his own pace, not living up to my timetables, dragging out the project much longer than it should have taken. At the end of his term, Todd dropped a bombshell. Besides the dominant nature, it turns out he had a rather devious streak. On his last day of work, he threatened to reveal our homosexual liaisons. What he said amounted to blackmail. What he wanted was a great deal of money. The fact that there had been no occurrence of homosexuality didn't prevent him from the threat. With receipts in hand of every place we had ever been, it looked very much like I was paying him to stay with me. He insisted he could convince the people who backed my projects of my improprieties. After considering all aspects, I decided that the adverse publicity might significantly harm my career so I caved in to his demands. He walked away with over one hundred thousand dollars. Part of me still cringes when I recall the way he intimidated me during the conversation. I'll never forget the evil, sadistic smirk as he left. The lesson I learned was to stay far away from charming, suave, manipulative guys. My inability to resist their powers of persuasion made hiring this guy too risky. These days I am very wary of the smooth types and this guy was definitely smooth. So he was out. The final candidate was Alex. Before the meeting I reviewed the resume. The school records indicated that he was a good student, in the top quarter of his class. Activities and interests led me to believe that he was the type who would work out fine for the six months I needed him. The doorbell rang and I answered the door. Standing in front of me was a very pretty young woman. To my great shock I realized that I assumed Alex was a boy's name and not a girl's. In this case Alex must be short for Alexandra or something. Alex was a girl! As I stood there like an idiot thinking of something to say, she walked inside. Directing her to my office, she glanced around, giving the place the once over. The house is quite a display even if I say so myself. It should be; it cost enough. A small smile of satisfaction came over me as I witnessed the admiration she showed of the place, as she examined the leather furniture, the costly paintings, the antiques, the expensive grandfather clock and the various exotic knick-knacks. Alex sat in the chair in front of the desk and I sat behind. Once we were comfortable, I took the liberty of checking her out. At first glance, it was obvious that she was very good-looking, beautiful in fact. She was about my size, five foot seven or so. Long, sandy-brown hair flowed straight down, with not a hint of curl, and settled an inch or so beyond her shoulders. Even clad in a sort of loose-fitting summer dress I could tell that her figure was very nice, in the earth-goddess type, a sort of Beyonce body. There was a glow about her that exuded sensuality in a seductive way. Being somewhat of a leg connoisseur, my eyes checked out her lovely gams. To my surprise I noticed she wasn't wearing nylons, unusual for an interview I thought, but her tanned legs looked exceptional under her dress. The hem rode high, exposing thighs that were well formed, athletic and curvy. My mouth watered and I had to make a conscious effort to close my mouth. To keep from gawking at those lovely limbs I kept glancing down at the paper in front of me. I had to do something to keep my eyes from bulging out of the sockets. Between up and down glimpses, I checked out her breasts. Nice and full, not too large but not small either, they looked to be more than a handful but less than purchased. Her hips were just wide enough to be inviting and her rear end, checked out when she entered, was more than lovely—it was close to heavenly. The first thing that ran through my mind, right after admitting that Alex was quite a beauty, was that she was definitely out of my league. "Well, Alex," I said, attempting to sound cool and collected, "I see that you're qualified for the position, probably over-qualified." From practice I always paused at this point as though forming some critical determination. "What makes you think I should give the position to you as opposed to someone else?" The question was lame, but in my defense, my brain was overcome by its animalistic nature and wasn't functioning as a rational entity too well. The impact of her turning out to be a girl, and a stunning girl at that, had thrown me off my game. There was something very extraordinary about her, more than just her incredible looks. She had a presence that filled the room. With a nonchalance that was beyond cool, she commanded the scene, possessed it like it was her own. "I want the job," she replied, as if the simple explanation was all it took to get the position. Watching her carefully, I perceived a calm, quiet confidence, almost as if nothing could ever bother her, like she was a princess in some other life and accustomed to everything going her way. There seemed no doubt in her mind that she was going to get the job. "I see," I said, uncertain what to do at this point. "Well, I'll let you know tomorrow. I have other candidates to interview then I'll have to make the decision based on everyone's qualifications." "No, that won't do," she said. "No?" "That won't do," she replied, her eyes never leaving mine. The hypnotic aura cast by her lovely eyes put me off a bit. "I need to know now," she reiterated. "If I'm not going to get the job I need to make other plans." Stunned by the abrupt reply, I sat in a daze. Breaking the trance of her penetrating orbs, I peeked down at her exquisite form. The first thing I noticed was that she wasn't one of those women who used her legs to influence a man. Instead of crossing one over the other and swinging it to draw attention, luring the eyes to the blessed gams, she sat rather manly in the chair. Her feet were not together in that lady-like manner; they were flat-footed and spread apart, just a little. Once again I noticed that she wasn't wearing nylons. Her tanned legs looked deliciously gorgeous, the kind you would like to lick all the way to the top. The fact that she was without proper stockings suddenly seemed rather exciting for some peculiar reason. The image of an earth goddess returned. She seemed so natural, so unmade-up, and so authentic. She quite bewitched me. "I see. What, if I may ask, is your rush?" "I need a place to live. I moved out of my boyfriend's place last night. Since I don't have any transportation I want to live someplace close to where I work." Although her frankness was unusual, I found her honesty to be very compelling. "I see." My comment, neither glib nor astute, was nonetheless all I could manage to get out of a throat choked beyond speech and a brain benumbed beyond reasoning. It seemed that the ability to articulate anything worthy of intelligence was simply beyond my current capabilities. With the articulateness of a mime, I assumed the awkward position of the village idiot. Frankly, I felt out of place as if I were visiting a strange country. No one has ever turned me so inside out before, with the possible exception of Todd. "I'll tell you what," I struggled to say. "Normally, I don't decide so quickly, so impulsively, but you seem exceptionally qualified." Her eyes cast her spell further. "So I'll offer the position to you now. That is, if you'll accept." My acceptance of her request fell just short of begging her to work for me. Nodding slightly, she didn't seem overly grateful; the casual movement with her lips wasn't exactly a smile. It was as if she was taking my humble proposal as her due. "Good," she proclaimed. "Now, I have to look for a place." The announcement was uttered as she rose. The bottom part of the causal sun-dress parted as she stood, exposing a lovely and generous view of an exquisite thigh. The skin was firm, tanned, taut and sensual. Obviously, she worked out a lot. She caught me staring and I reddened in response. "Where do you suppose you'll look? I mean for a place," I asked too quickly, wanting to divert the attention from my lecherous eyes. "I don't know," she responded. "Do you know any places around that will take me on credit?" "Oh. You don't have any money then?" "Not until my first paycheck." "Well, I suppose I could advance you a month's salary," I muttered quickly, too eager to help. I was so embarrassed. "I don't usually do this," I mumbled as I got my checkbook out. "A check's no good. I won't have time to deposit it. Do you have enough cash to cover it?" I looked up. Her manner wasn't flirtatious or the giggly sort that a lot of young women toss about. Her confidence and straightforwardness was unique for one of her age. It was an honesty born of unpretentiousness. "I guess I could advance it in cash." Ignoring a cautioning conscience, I walked to my hidden safe, on the far side of the office, behind a picture on the wall. As I opened it, it dawned on me how exposed I was. Without thought or consideration to the risk, I had revealed the location of the safe, opened it before her and showed everything within it. Because I work out of my home I carry much more money than I should. At any given time I might have thousands of dollars, perhaps as much as a couple of hundred thousand. "Listen," I said, the beginning of an inspiration forming in my bewildered brain. As I gave her more than two thousand dollars I continued, "If you want, and don't take this the wrong way, you can stay here for the night." Flustered, the words poured out. "I have plenty of rooms, too many, in fact, and they never get used so it would be no trouble whatsoever. That way we could get an early start in the morning and then you could look for some place tomorrow." As I listened to my own sales pitch, I was aware of how pathetic I sounded. I was almost pleading with her. She considered the proposition for a moment before assenting. "Why don't you show me where I can stay?" Like an overly-eager puppy, I led her to a room down the hall from mine. Normally, I reserve the room for my agent, as it is the second nicest one in the house. Besides my agent, the only other person who ever stayed there was Todd. He started out in one of the smaller rooms but within a week, without asking, he took the better one as his own. At the time I didn't say anything, thinking I should consider myself fortunate that he didn't want my room. "I need a bath," Alex announced almost as soon as we entered the room. "Would you be a gentleman and fetch my bags from the foyer?" Without a moments hesitation I scampered back down the hallway and out to the foyer. Hauling the suitcases to her room I knocked softly before entering. This room, like the master bedroom, had an adjoining bathroom. The water was running and the door was closed. For a moment I considered unpacking her bags, just to get a look at her clothes but recognized the gesture could be too easily misinterpreted. After Alex bathed and changed her clothes she joined me in the expansive living room. As I impatiently waited, I opened and started drinking a glass of expensive wine. Sipping on the pleasant grape, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. When Alex walked in I noticed the drastic change in apparel. Wearing a more formal outfit than the simple sun-dress, once again I was stunned by her appearance. A sleek, black dress hung down to just above the knee. Two, thin straps over her shoulders held it up. A rather spectacular display of a magnificent cleavage was easily seen. The fabric gripped her voluptuous body, as if molded to the curvaceous shape, accenting her gorgeous figure in a way that illustrated every part of her without seeming too tight. It was undoubtedly the most tantalizing sight I had ever been privileged enough to see. "You're dressed. I mean you're dressed so nicely," I stammered. The effect of the striking attire was immediate and consuming. She seemed more like a Greek goddess who deserved homage than a lowly assistant. "I thought you might like to take me out to dinner," she suggested. "Certainly," I agreed, jumping at the wonderful opportunity, chastising myself for not thinking of the idea first. Hastily phoning ahead, I managed to get reservations at the best restaurant in town. They knew me there and promised a table as soon as we arrived. Once there, I slipped the maitre'd a Benjamin to get the best table. The dinner was excellent even though I stumbled through most of the conversation. For some inexplicable reason, I was unable to relax around her. She stayed in complete control of herself however, as nothing seemed to faze her. Alex nibbled on a salad and drank sparingly. To mask my boorish behavior, I consumed enough alcohol for the both of us. My normal shyness and lack of sociability was not enhanced by the libation but it did loosen my inhibitions. After inhaling the better part of two bottles of wine, Alex drove us home, thank goodness, and I struggled to bed. The morning arrived much too early for my aching head. It had been some time since I had overslept. Parts of a vivid, erotic dream rolled around just outside the periphery of consciousness. My head throbbed as I made my way to the bathroom. A hot shower helped clear some cobwebs but what I really needed was a few aspirins and some scalding, strong coffee. After the medicine and the coffee, I wandered back to my office. Peering around I say no sign of my new assistant. Settling at my desk, coffee in hand, the first thing I did was list the basic duties I expected of my new employee. An hour later, Alex joined me. She sat down without so much of a hint of an apology for being late. With no words passed between us, I handed her the list. To her credit, she started right in. While finishing up some trivial paperwork, I kept an eye on her. Nothing seemed too difficult and she spent the morning completing the tasks. Toward eleven, Alex informed me she was taking a break and with coffee in hand, left the office for the living room. Through the doorway, I could just see her posed on the couch in front of the fireplace. At first, I was a bit surprised that she settled in the living room as it made her seem more like a guest than an employee. Being the polite person I am, I let the lapse in proper etiquette pass. As I observed, Alex pulled a magazine out of her purse and casually leafed through it. After a minute, she placed her feet on an ottoman nearby and studied her hands. Reaching for her purse, she removed a file and began working on her fingernails. My work momentarily forgotten, I watched intently as she smoothed the rough edges away. When she was satisfied with the results of the scraping she brought out some nail polish. With elaborate concentration, fingers pointing out, she painted the nails. There was something about the deliberate focus on her face that enthralled me. After the fingernails were finished and dried, she flipped her sandals off and examined her toenails. Displeased with the appearance, Alex bent over and busily applied a coat of polish. My mouth suddenly went dry. As I observed her efforts, I couldn't help noticing that her dress, another soft-fabric sun-dress, rode high upon her thighs, almost to the edge of her panties as she performed her task. My little guy rose to attention. The view I was treated to was nothing short of stunning. I was blessed with the glorious sight of the most exquisite legs I've ever laid eyes on. My work abandoned, completely forgotten, I gaped with mouth open wide, staring at the wonderful sight of those magnificent limbs. Long, sensual, smooth, enticing, they were simply luscious. With patience, Alex worked on the nails, her face intent on the task. Obviously, I couldn't take my eyes off of her feet and legs. It was as if I was under some spell that she had cast over me, ensnaring me in the charms of her magnificent limbs. Nothing could break my gaze at the lovely picture I viewed. The artful and beguiling performance was exquisitely captivating. Working for Alex Somehow I managed to survive the balance of the day and return to the job at hand, putting my momentary lapse behind me. Alex went about her chores and the two of us co-existed peacefully. Since she had no time to look for an apartment I offered to let her stay another night. With her sleeping down the hall from me I found it almost impossible to sleep and when I finally fell into the throes of slumber I dreamed of serving those legs with the devotion they deserved. The next morning, I watched the clock tick by, anticipating her break. Eagerly waiting, I was hoping for a repeat performance and a chance to view those delectable legs again. Nothing seemed more important than seeing those lovely feet and more importantly, watch her expose those exquisite legs again. Disappointment sank in as I realized that touching up her nails was not a daily task. The next time she worked on her nails, a few days later, I moved closer, watching from the doorway, still hidden, or so I thought. The angle was good and I was able to get a peek between her legs. It looked like she wore plain, white, cotton panties. For some reason, I expected something a little more exotic, a silk thong or a satin French cut, but after further consideration, the cotton briefs seemed more suitable to her earthy appearance. The third time she retired to the envied task I put my fears aside and boldly joined her. The final touches were being applied to her fingernails when I walked in on her. Once again, she sat on the couch, the beautiful, expensive leather couch. The television was tuned to some soap opera when she started on the toenails. Sort of sneaking in, I used my anonymity to observe the proceedings. The thin, flowered skirt rode mid-way up her thigh revealing her perfect leg. By now, I had grown enamored with the luscious legs. Using every opportunity I could, I snuck quick glimpses at the gorgeous gams whenever I thought she wasn't watching. One of my favorite images, the one I fantasized about in the shower, was the time Alex bent from the waist as she filed away some reports. The cabinets, fortunately, are placed directly in front of my desk, to the side of the door. As she bent from the waist, the cooperative skirt rose from just above the knee to almost the bottom of her bottom, revealing the perfect gams and giving me a terrific shot at her equally gorgeous derriere. It seemed that every time I saw her she seemed sexier, even more desirable. Maybe it was the fact that she hardly wore anything but a simple sun-dress and panties. How did I come to find out that that was all she wore? Discovering she went braless was purely accidental. One afternoon, as she picked up a file from my to-do box, Alex bent over the desk just a little to ask me where it went. Quite by accident, my eyes wandered to the gap exposed by her posture. Naturally, gravity caused the top of her dress to reach for the ground providing me with a spectacular view of her rounded mounds, not quite to the nipples. Full, supple, enticing, and quite delicious looking, her breasts only added to the enchantment she was weaving around me. After that stupendous moment, I paid more attention to the area, drawing my salacious eyes up from her lower extremities. Sometimes, if I concentrated, I could just make out the dark areolas beneath the thin fabric of her skimpy sun-dresses. "Need any help with that?" I asked cavalierly, pointing to her feet as she strained to reach the toenails. Fortunately, the more she reached, the further up her thigh the skirt rode. Tipping my head slightly, I could just make out the white panties. Naturally, I was besotted with unbridled lust. Alex looked up at me. Her stare was as intense as it was strange. It seemed apparent that that I could see practically all of her but she didn't seem to care. "Sure. I need the rest." She handed me the brush and leaned backwards, settling into the comfort of the couch. Her eyes studied me intently as though measuring my worthiness. "You can finish, but do a good job." Like an eager student, I took the tiny brush and the jar of polish from her hands. Having not thought this part out, I hesitated for a moment trying to decide the best position to perform my task. Since her feet were on the ottoman, the floor seemed the logical spot to be so I sat down, directly in front of her and waited for instructions. "Have you done this before?" she asked as she placed a bare foot in my lap. The sensation of her skin against my trousers caused an immediate reaction and my little guy stirred against her heel. Some tiny section of my brain went numb and I felt somewhat subdued. "No. Not really," I stammered, holding back the fact that at one time I used to play around with polish on my own feet and fingers. Sitting at her feet, gazing up at her, I felt like a pauper kneeling before his queen. There was something humbling about my position yet very befitting, as though I was finally where I belonged. "Well, I'll direct you this time but you need to learn quickly. I don't tolerate slow learners." She had an imperial manner and I obeyed, willingly beginning my task with the humility and devotion it required. Holding her beautiful foot in one hand like a precious jewel, I leaned over, getting closer, to apply the clear polish. A scent of ambrosia came to me and I felt the beginnings of intoxication. Licking my lips, and with solemn deliberation, I was very careful applying the polish, taking my time, making a special effort to do it correctly. My body, as well as my mind, detached itself from the normality of the world and became engrossed in the task at hand, lost in a world of blessed servitude. It was an odd state, the place I found myself, almost in a zone of euphoria. It was as if I was transported above the place on the floor. Part of me wasn't there, the part that existed when I was in control. An overwhelming feeling of rapture consumed me as I performed this humble activity. With her sensual foot held gently in my hand, I snuck a peek upwards, following the smooth flow of skin up her calf, past a dimpled knee, beyond a curvy thigh and between her legs. Enchanting panties stretched across her womanhood, her throne of power. Beneath the sheer fabric I could distinguish the shadow of pubic hair. Alas, I was caught in my indiscretion and nudging me with her other foot, in a not too gentle manner, Alex indicated her awareness of the naughty inspection of forsaken areas. The rude prod in the side also signified her disapproval. Like a good servant, I took the gesture to mean that I should return to the duties at hand, at foot rather, and not pursue any extracurricular activities. Besides I was a little embarrassed at peeking at her private domain. It's true; Alex had a special way about her. Words, often, need not be spoken—a look, a gesture or small hints, like a swift kick, were adequate demonstrations of the way she felt. Abashed at being caught at my little indiscretion, I went back to work. After about fifteen minutes I finished with the first foot. As I sat back, Alex raised it from my gentle hands to examine it. Waiting for approval, I held my breath. The gesture placed the lovely foot directly in front of my besotted face. I was mesmerized by the exquisite appendage. A soft aroma, one almost sensual, drifted from the nearness of her skin. Inhaling quietly, I drank in the sweet scent. It filled my senses, working its charms like an aphrodisiac. The examination completed, Alex lowered the foot to gaze into my eyes. At that moment, I was simply a vessel that she filled with desire, lusting for my beautiful queen. "You did ok," she deemed. "I would say the job is satisfactory—almost." Her eyes pierced mine, searing a blaze of raw emotion all the way to the inner part of my soul. "But if you want to continue performing this privilege you'll have to get better." She rested the sweet foot on my thigh. "Do you want to continue?" My face flushed with joy, I squeaked out an eager yes and she interchanged her other foot. This time I concentrated painstakingly on the task. Carefully, almost reverently, I devoted myself to the beloved chore. Finally, when I had completed the job, Alex examined the nails. Taking her time to study each toe, she held the lovely foot right in front of my face again like she did last time. If I thought about it, and I really didn't, I imagined I looked sort of silly, pathetic really, sitting there on the floor with one foot on my thigh and the other in front of my face. There was no sign of the wealthy executive in this room. There was only a Queen and her servant. Tiring of holding the appendage while the examination took place, Alex rested the darling foot on my face. The arch pressed against my nose and her heel was almost at my mouth. As though caught in a rapturous web, my eyes closed—not so much from the contact as from the significance of the gesture. Sitting in silence, a sensation of subservience washed over me. A state of calm settled over me and I knew that I would sit in the position as long as she wanted to—as long as she wanted to use me. Finally, she removed her foot from my face. As she did my lips puckered quickly and I planted a quick kiss to the bottom of her foot. I don't know if she realized it or not, she must have, but I didn't care, I just had to do it. I sat kneeling in front of her, waiting in silence for another command for three or four more minutes. When she left the room, I remained on the floor, glued to my position, lost in the sensation, savoring the memory. The following day I awaited the opportunity to do her nails again. She didn't go into the living room like she did before and I began to get anxious. Instead of taking a break, she stayed in the office finishing the work. Out of sheer frustration I broke down and asked her why she hadn't stopped. "Boy I'm tired," I announced as I stretched for emphasis. "I need a break, how about you?" "No, I'm fine," Alex responded. She was squatting at a lower drawer filing away the latest report. Her skirt drew up her legs and exposed the gorgeous thighs. The only problem I had of the sexy picture was that I was behind her with only a view of her side. Wouldn't it be exquisite to be in front where I might get a glimpse up her dress? "You don't need your nails done today? I was looking forward to it." I tried to sound cavalier, to make light of the comment. Instead I was afraid that my remark sounded too anxious. "No," she answered, not even glancing at me, "if you do a good enough job they only need to be done once or twice a week." "Oh." Disappointment showed in the sad response. She peered at me knowingly. I tried at new tactic. "I was just thinking that since it was my first time doing your nails that they probably needed touching up. I'm sure that I didn't do a very good job. They probably could use another coat." "They're ok," she said dismissively. "No really Alex. I'm a bit of a perfectionist and I'd prefer it if I could make sure that they're done properly." Even though I attempted to sound sincere I know my explanation seemed more like pleading. I tried to turn the tide. "You're the one who said I needed to do a good job." She twisted her head and studied me carefully, remaining squatting at the file cabinet, almost as if making some important decision. "Ok, I guess. If you feel you have to." Her reply made it seem as though she were doing me a favor. Waiting until she stood, I followed along behind her as she strode to the living room. My mind was already shifting into that servile zone that had been overtaking me lately. As she sat on the couch, I assumed my position on the floor. Watching me closely, she placed her royal foot in my hand. After a momentary pause, I began my chore. Again, unable to help myself, I snuck quick peeks up her leg to view her panties. Again I noticed the plain, white cotton material, so earthy in nature. From where I sat, I was certain that a few golden hairs poked out from the sides. My breath caught in my throat. Glimpsing these hairs was the closest I had come to the beloved area I craved. Taking painstaking effort to the task at hand, I concentrated diligently as I carefully applied the polish to the brightened nails, trying desperately not to become too enraptured in the occasional glances at the simple panties. After finishing, I sat like a patient supplicant awaiting further instructions. Part of me wished that the pleasant chore never ended and part of me eagerly anticipated the next step in our new arrangement. Casually, majestically, Alex rested one foot on my face, placing it there as though it was my duty in life, examining the work I had so meticulously done for imperfections. I sat silent and posed like a piece of furniture, not moving, barely breathing. When I did inhale, it was only to smell the sweet fragrance of her foot. Because of the way she pushed my head back I had no trouble viewing her panties. For the first time I could make out the outline of her mound. Using my imagination, I could envision the beauty of her blessed vulva right in front of me. Unintentionally, I was becoming exceptionally hard. Suddenly, deliberately, she placed the other foot directly on my crotch. Her eyes forced me to look deep into their controlling depths. The combination of her control, the sight of her pussy encased in her panties, the feeling of the foot on my face and the slight pressure of the other foot in my lap caused me to erupt in a fantastic gush. I groaned in ecstasy. "What do you say?" she asked as she removed her foot from my face and placed it before my mouth. "Thank you," I muttered and planted a quick kiss on her foot. This behavior continued daily. Getting up earlier than her I rushed to complete her chores so we could get to the time when I could do her nails. More and more often I was doing more of the chores. I fixed her lunch and made the coffee. In the mornings I worked hard, anticipating the moment she took her break. Finally when the moment came and she left for the other room, I waited a few minutes before following her. She sat on the couch, her dress always riding part way up her thigh. I knelt on the floor directly in front of her. If her nails needed work she merely placed a foot on my leg, silently bidding me to perform the task. If not, sometimes she allowed me the opportunity to massage her feet. Each day began the same way; a gentle graduation process, she called it. She allowed my servile hands to creep farther up her leg. Cautiously, reverently, I kissed her a little higher after beginning with her foot. Lingering at the soft contact, I inhaled her sweet fragrance. The scent stayed with me, intoxicating me, captivating me, haunting me long after she shooed me away like a pesky pest. The next day my lips were blessed with a momentary caress on her ankle. Remaining glued to her soft skin until she kicked me away I found solace in the surrender. The next day, watching her eyes closely I moved up to her shin, breathing deeply as I tasted her. The next day I was at her knee. This allowed me a closer peek at the valley between her legs. Finally the day came where I arrived at her thigh. The softness was narcotic. My eyes drifted to her crotch. I was ecstatic at the sight, so close to those panties. The soft yet firm thighs aroused me. That night I hardly slept. I knew what the next day might bring. At last, my dream might come true. In my sleep, visions of her cotton panties dominated every scene. I tossed and turned all night as the sight of her sitting above me, her beautiful legs spread invitingly, my tongue drooling kept me on the edge of mental orgasm. When I awoke my member was straining against the sheets in anticipation of the day of reckoning. Would I finally be allowed to place my worshipful lips to the shrine? The morning dragged on, each minute seeming like hours. At the appointed time, Alex beckoned me to the living room. As I scurried into the room I wondered briefly when the last time she had done any work. Probably the same time I begged to polish her nails. Somehow, those legs of hers had taken over. I worked for her now. Throughout the task her legs parted gradually until I was allowed a nice view of the smooth, white panties. After the application, I held the feet in my lap as the polish dried. Her toes rested against my growing penis. "I know you're in a hurry," she said. "They will dry faster if you blow on them." With these instructions, I raised each one and blew gently until the polish hardened. The wait seemed endless yet was tantalizing. The view was spectacular. Finally, I kissed the toes of the foot I held. My lips caressed the skin gently. Now was the time to begin the climb to the heaven between her legs. The smooth slope above her toes felt cool against my lips. Her ankle tasted sweet as though she applied perfume there. I pressed my lips against her shin, the bone unyielding. I moved around to the side to press my lips to the soft muscle of her calf. At her knee I paused to glance at the object of my desire. The panties beckoned my arrival, the fabric spread tightly over her pussy. With a groan, I worked my way up to her thigh, spreading her legs as my body squeezed between them. Now her legs held me as I kissed my way up. The ultra soft area of her thigh, right before her panties, was almost too much. My little cock throbbed wildly in my trousers, aching for relief. Finally, I was there, at the junction of her womanhood. With reverence, my lips pressed against the warm and slightly moist fabric. A sensual heat penetrated through the thin covering. The sweet smell of her essence possessed me and I mouthed the mound gently. With a sort of adoration that was inspired by a deep lust, I continued the soft caresses over the face of her panties. The nearness to heaven was almost overwhelming but I followed the set rules and controlled myself. Today, my job was worshipping the panel in front. Tomorrow might be different. Wetness soaked the cotton, a combination of my saliva and her precious juices. My lips applied their tender manipulations until she arched her back and silently climaxed. The next day I started again at her feet, touching up the nails. The chore came easily to me now and I was proud of my accomplishment. When I finished, she rested a foot on my face, pushing my head back, her heel on my chin, her sole on my nose and her toes on my forehead. The effect was immediate. A cloud of lust spread across my feeble mind and I drifted into a state of submission. With devotion, I kissed her foot. Finished with this part of the ritual, she removed her foot from my face and placed it on my thigh. This was the sign for me to begin my journey. A tremor of excitement charged through me. I worked my way up, slowly, tantalizingly. Minutes later, I reached the white cloth of her panties. I placed my worshipful lips on the fabric. I could feel the outline of her clitoris and I massaged it with my lips. She allowed me a few seconds there. Moments later, she pushed me away and left the room. I sat there, the feel of the cotton, the taste of her sweet nectar still on my lips. The next day the routine continued. After I worked my way up her luscious leg I remained longer glued to the outside of the cotton fabric. Maybe the soft caresses were getting to her because the following day she didn't wear any panties. I was on my knees, foot in hand, applying the polish to her toes when I first noticed. As usual I would sneak peeks up her legs to glance at her panties. With her legs slightly parted my glimpse spotted her nudity. Unbelievingly, a perfectly trimmed bush stared back at me. I almost dropped the applicator. Working for Alex It took every bit of self-control to finish the job. I knew this would be the day I finally was allowed to worship her pussy. As her nails dried in my lap, I fantasized of visiting her shrine. At last she lowered her feet and I began the slow journey to my destiny.