The first thing Mitch noticed was the heat. It was all-encompassing, much in the way of whatever spectral influences were mushing his body into the bed now, as the climate of her sole swallowed his face whole; it was overwhelming at first, in the way of stepping from snow-chilled outdoors straight into a sauna. But once Mitch caught his breath, startled to discover he could in fact still draw air in defiance again of physics while her sole was kissed to lavishly to his clamped lips and fluttering nostrils, it became easier to manage. There was something reassuring in the heat now, like standing on a hilltop on a cloudless day and feeling the sunlight radiate straight through him. The next sensation to take shape in his brain was the desperately-touchable texture of it. There was no learning curve here, as the woman’s highly pliable pithy-enriched sole made for the firmest, squishiest, most enticing pillow he could’ve conceived: magnetic and meaty, and instantly correct it the way it made him want to draw even closer than was physically possible, to nuzzle and caress and do show his devotion in all the ways she’d said he wasn’t allowed, at least not yet.
Then there was the aroma, something Mitch had looked forward to almost as much as the contact itself. He hadn’t really known what kind of perfume to expect such a beguiling yet questionably-nonhuman entity to wear, if there even was a scent at all, but he found one after the second more-relaxed inhale, albeit not what he’d expected. There was a note of summery sweat, yes, glazed into the skin with biting salt, but even greater was its sweetness, rather bizarrely, almost stickily saccharine enough to constitute a pastry flavor; the weirdness-factor was akin to hearing a popular song loudly played in minor key rather than major, only smelled instead of heard. Then he detected sourness, not of filth and musk, but from some type of plant-life he couldn’t identify, maybe some poisonous fruit or attractive flower with barbed leaves. Each respectful yet needful intake of air from her foot seemed to develop the essence anew.
Perhaps most delightfully galling of all was its scale, though. Her foot was somehow petite and titanic at once, delicate and heavy in the span of one feature-molding press against a face-length pad of tropical-steamy sole skin. The contradiction was impossible to understand. Luckily, Mitch just had to follow his directions, and hunt for the aspects of her ethereal naked foot that he loved, just as she wanted. Each time his senses fixated upon one of these remarkable new elements, from sight to smell to feel and even a new kind of perception he couldn’t quite identify yet except to know that it made him more fulfilled, he focused on it with everything he had, internally naming it and think-speaking it in the most poetic terms he could, even while Mitch was far from an eloquent romantic, and yet less so while so transfixed with arousal. He was lucky to be able to mentally articulate anything at all except sexual pleading, but the nocturnal visitor’s features were so inspiring, so warm and soft and begging to be explored in the most worshipful manner like hallowed ground, that he found the words anyway.
“Good,” she purred, hearing the devotionals chanted in his head. Again Mitch couldn’t question how she did so, nor worry that she was able to peer into his brain and read his every thought. He’d pleased her; that was all that mattered. “Keep looking. Keep thinking. You see and feel nothing but the foot before your face. Nothing else exists.”
It enchanted Mitch deeper to hear her encourage him this way, but in truth he’d already decided this status for himself. There may as well have been nothing else in all of universal being except his undeserving body, immobilized in nothing-void, with his face buried in the hot lustrous pleasantly-malleable landscape of her foot. He would’ve longed never to have a single aspect of his reality shift away from this moment, never hearing a word but those his mistress instructed and never breathing air except that pheromonal tang from her sole, except for the fact that he knew it was about to get even more perfect. Afraid of offending her by letting his mind wander, Mitch continued pointing out the details of her arch that he adored, which weren’t difficult to choose since there were so many, but still mildly distracted by dire anticipation of her ultimate response to his servitude.
The man didn’t even feel the blankets rise this time, nor the spreading back of his boxers to make way for the opposite sole gliding possessively up his leg. Mitch just felt her naked sole flush on his thigh all at once, the plum-smooth ends of her toes grazing the base of his hard-on, which had materialized back to his awareness just as quickly. Then again, how could he not have become more stirred than ever in his life by this tactile voyage over her sole, even more so than last night? She hadn’t needed to plaster that fleshy sole-curve against his rod yet to get him to this point of intense drive, but damn it if it wasn’t even more amazing than last time when she finally did. Much like the contradiction of simultaneously feeling his face and entire body pressed up against the other ped at once, or breathing perfectly naturally even while the bottom of her foot was hugged flush to his lips and nose, Mitch could’ve sworn on his own life that he felt the woman’s crotch-seeking sole furiously rolling and slaking, scrunching and pat-a-caking his dick, all without so much as moving a muscle, except those required to bunch her toes and gracefully reform the wrinkles along the underside slope. Having no idea which act was actually happening now and which was just imagined, Mitch didn’t care in the end, seeing how he got to enjoy both at once.
And oh how he enjoyed, reacting on the inside like a carnival high striker game, with his brain lighting up and blaring a bell as the still unseen guest’s foot dominated his cock in stillness and locomotion simultaneously. Somehow she was still making him feel every tender rippling groove in her arch creases through slow-mo while also ensuring he felt the firmness and energy of the entire sole working him over with rapid gymnastic strokes, a thing that should’ve been impossible, but no more impossible than the larger-than-life ways he was experiencing her other foot by sight, smell, and contact beyond the bounds of human sensitivity. How he longed to kiss it, to eject his tongue and lick until he developed lockjaw, but for now this was more than plenty. The woman seemed to allow Mitch just enough of his speech back in time for him open his mouth and moan aloud in the home stretch toward orgasm, because he heard himself abruptly sobbing like an animal in heat, though even his most imperious requests for a finish were drowned out by her echoing murmurs, unreadable as either laughter or contemplation.
He sniffed that sweet poison-flower saltiness until his lungs topped off, wallowed in her warmth and cushioning, and descended into a hyper-attentive spiral on a single central X-shaped wrinkle at the vertex of the peachy arch and the ball of her foot, his vision spinning along with his mind. Then in a final sweep and press, the nighttime caller claimed another spurt from her host, perfectly timing the rise and cupping of her sole across the cap of his mast before he even had the chance to vocalize his climax, since she’d known even before him precisely the moment he’d succumb. Mitch spasmed beneath the heavy bedsheets as she circled his cockhead and massaged the goods into her foot, his jitters becoming more fervent as bodily control was gradually gifted back, though it still took adjustment, as though he’d been numbed for the better part of the night. Unfortunately the woman retracted both feet even more quickly than last night, the very instant she’d stolen the last bit of seed, but this time her willing lotioner didn’t panic or even feel true disappointment. After two nights in a row of this sensuous wonderment and god-tier footjobs, more satisfying than any he thought he’d receive in his whole life, he wasn’t so selfish to think he deserved anything more. But even so, the fact that he had seen her again now allowed Mitch to believe that this wasn’t just a two-night stand.
“You are coming to understand your place more and more,” she quietly thundered, with the affection of a pet owner. “The payment is made, and I will return for more. Your debt still stands, closer yet though we may be to making it right. Making you whole. Do not pleasure yourself, remain mindful, but do want. Want for my feet until you can barely stand. Until you struggle to find the strength to remain awake. Yet, do not sleep again until it is time. Remain watchful. Then I will come for you again, and you will come for me.”
That intangible body-thralling weight relaxed all at once, the voice and those angel peds diminished fully into the blackness, and Mitch was projected almost by force into deep dreamless slumber.