[Comments:
* The below story is entirely fictional – a fantasy concocted in the darker depths of my mind on a train journey written for my own, and hopefully other’s, enjoyment.
* Yes, there is a foot fetish element to it. Though it’s not the whole story, and I don’t think I go overboard. But if this isn’t your thing, feel free to not read on.
* This is my first such story so please do leave feedback.
* Finally, if the story triggers some unpleasant memories, please do speak to someone, ideally a professional.
Enjoy!]
**Finally putting an end to my niece’s baiting**
“I’m home, babe.” I announce after an especially long day at work.
Silence. No reply from my wife. But then I hear bare footsteps patter from the bedroom opposite mine, and a chirpy, youthful voice.
“She’s still at work Uncle Jay, they were short staffed and she’s doing the full day now.”
*So, another evening with my wife’s niece, Safi*
“Oh right. So we’ll have to sort dinner again, then.” I said with a sigh. “Day off today, Safi?”
Safi came to stay with us around 6 months ago from Egypt, studying Economics and Politics at one of the UK’s top Universities. My wife and I were more than happy to share our home. Her mother – my sister in law – was very hospitable when we went to visit last year, and her and my wife are very close. She wasn’t too comfortable with her eldest daughter going off to a western country and living among strangers, no matter how prestigious the University is. So naturally, my wife provided a solution best for everyone. Safi would live with us during term time to allow her to settle in to the country, at least for the first year of study. My sister in law was overjoyed, bless her, and Safi has been a perfectly pleasant guest since.
“Yeah, been studying,” she replied, “I have an essay to finish before next week.”
“Urgh,” I said jokingly, “Glad those days are behind me!”
“Yeah,” she said with an affectionate giggle, “lucky you!”
She is standing a few steps away from me. I notice her clothing – a wine coloured tank top, that was cut maybe an inch too short, and a pair of grey sweat shorts, which not only followed the same trend, but were probably a size too small also. I reflexively shifted my gaze down to look at the floor, awkwardly.
There was brief silence, before I shuffled to take off my coat. “Well, enjoy!” I said mockingly, “I’m gonna chill out for a bit, I’ll give you a shout later for dinner.”
“Cool, I’m gonna just finish off this essay.” she said, perkily. As I took off my coat, I watched as she turned and patted back towards her bedroom. Again, I instinctively look away, trying not to notice her shapely buttocks in those revealing shorts, swaying hypnotically with each step. I check my phone, a text from my wife confirms what I was just told – another late shift, another evening with Safi.
I plodded to the kitchen area to make a cup of tea for myself, and thought I’d make one for Safi too – poor kid, home alone all day with nothing to do but study, she could probably do with a break. With both mugs in my hands, I make my way across the apartment towards her bedroom. Her door is half open, and I see her laying atop her bed on her stomach, leaning on her elbows while flicking through a book, facing away from me. Her bare legs are crossed over each other, with her feet leaning over the edge, giving her a slight wedgie, and revealing the crease under her buttocks, and her smooth, slender soles. I admit my gaze lingers for more than a couple of seconds, but again, I snap away soon after.
***
A sense of déjà vu struck me. This sight wasn’t too uncommon these past weeks. And had become a regular occurrence over the last few days after work, with my wife working late.
Why, just yesterday I got home to find Safi standing in the kitchen, making a juice or smoothie of some sort. She had clearly just gotten back from the gym or a run, as she was wearing a full length pair of gun metal grey yoga pants, which looked as though they were sprayed on to her legs, and a baggy University hoodie. As I sat at the kitchen bench to have a snack, after exchanging pleasantries with Safi and learning she had in fact just gotten back from the gym downstairs, she let out a series of long, exhausted breaths, and began patting down the sweat beading on her forehead. Fanning her hands about her face in an exaggerated manner, she then began removing her baggy hoody to reveal the sports bra she was wearing underneath – grey, like her yoga pants, and equally skin-tight.
Sitting down opposite me at the kitchen bar, it was impossible not to notice her slender neck, and ample cleavage, as she chugged down about a pint of a viscous green fluid.
Without wanting to seem rude, I stayed put to finish my bowl of fruit while she distractingly stretched and massaged her shoulders, neck and chest. However, I had to take my leave when she got up to do yoga stretches on the mat laid out between the living area and kitchen.
***
The evening before that was relatively tame, though she was still dressed provocatively to my admittedly prudish eyes – hip-hugging denim shorts which only covered about 2 inches of her thighs, and a veil thin, off shoulder tee shirt which left her hot-pink bra straps visible.
However the most noteworthy moment occurred a few nights previously. It was a Friday, and my wife was due to start a night shift at 7:30pm. As I saw her off at the door, Safi wasted no time to “put on something more comfortable”. Friday was movie night, so shortly after I sat down on the couch with a bowl of popcorn to start, Safi came to sit down next to me. But rather than the modest midi-skirt and black jeans from earlier in the evening, she had apparently slipped in to her pyjamas, covered by a mid length dressing gown, tied up above her waist to hide her upper torso, but leaving her legs from a little above the knee on display.
Admittedly, there had been nothing out of the ordinary up to that point. Safi sat with her legs up on the couch with the popcorn between us, and we watched the first hour or so of the movie – Blade Runner 2049 – in silence. However, soon after, Safi had moved the now empty bowl of popcorn to the coffee table in front of us, and as she returned to the couch, her seat was now where the bowl was earlier – right beside me.
We continued to watch the movie in silence, but I was confronted with a different form of enticement every time I glanced away from the screen, or reached for the popcorn. In the first instance, immediately after sitting next to me, she had put her feet up to rest on the coffee table. Occasionally she would stroke one of her bare legs with the opposite foot, as if to scratch an itch. Her gown would then slip down past her knee, revealing part of her inner thigh.
As I got up to refill the bowl about a half hour later, her legs were still up on the coffee table. But as I made my way back to my seat, I see her hands clasped between her legs, pulling her gown all the way up to her crotch. I noticed her gown, which was previously tightly wrapped, was now quite open below her neck, exposing her chest and more than modest cleavage.
Although the movie was excellent, it was very long! By the end of it, Safi had understandably fallen asleep, resting her head on my shoulder innocently. I tried my best to get up out of my seat without disturbing her. I gently took her head in my arm and tried to lower her so she can rest on the back of the couch instead. I was expecting her to wake up at this point, but she remained in a deep slumber. As I stood up, I took a second to inspect Safi to ensure she’d sleep comfortably. As I did, I noticed her robe was now fully open, untied from the waist, revealing her nightwear underneath; an oversized, flimsy t-shirt with large print, just about covering her crotch and upper thighs. Whether or not she was wearing any pants was hard to say, since the enticing way she had her legs up on the table caused me to look away in embarrassment. I swiftly covered her with a blanket, and then retired to my bedroom, distractedly, with sleep in my eyes.
Curiously, when I came out of my room to get a glass of water soon after, she had gone. It occurs to me now that perhaps she wasn’t in such a deep sleep after all.
***
And these events were from the past week alone. There had been numerous other encounters like this in the past couple of months; always when my wife was at work or otherwise occupied. And here we are again today. I have to speak to her about it.
“Made you a brew!” I announce chirpily from the hallway.
She skips to the door and opens it fully, bearing a warm smile. “Aww Uncle Jay you’re so sweet, I should be making you a cup after a day at work.”
“It’s no bother” I said as she took her cup out of my hand. I notice the notes and books scattered on her desk. “How’s the essay coming along?”
“It’s going ok,” she replied, “come in, we’ll have tea!” She turns, and I reluctantly enter the warm room. She sits at the edge of her bed, bare legs crossed over each other, as she puts her cup down on the bedside table. I awkwardly stood between her bed and the door, trying not to look at her meaty thighs, and her now obvious cleavage under the tank top.
“What’s the essay about?” I ask stupidly.
“Aah it’s boring stuff, basically comparing judicial systems,” she replies, gesturing to some books on the bed, “it’s been exhausting so I think I’ll chill out now.”
“Cool!” I said, unconvincingly. An awkward silence follows as I shift my gaze around the room, pretending to admire the decor.
“Listen, I needed to speak to you about something.” I said, breaking the silence. Maybe now is the time to mention about her skimpy clothing?
She perked up. “Oh? What’s up?” She patted the space on the edge of her bed next to her with her hand, gesturing me to have a seat. I put my mug down, and shuffle towards the bed awkwardly.
As I went to sit, she pulled both legs up on the bed, crossing one over the other, and turned to face me. I wouldn’t have believed those shorts could be more revealing; I was wrong.
“It’s not a big deal, Safi,” I said as I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the floor “but could you just make sure that when you have the heat on in your room that your door and the others in the house are closed. Save energy, save the planet and whatnot!”
Why I changed my mind at the last second, I have no idea. I guess I didn’t want her to think of me as the prudish foreign uncle.
“Oh yeah. Sorry about that, you’re totally right” she said, becoming more relaxed now, “I just forget sometimes.”
She shrugged and stared at me, tilting her head forward slightly, awaiting a response. I turned towards her to appear less cold.
“Bah, like I said it’s no biggy,” I said reassuringly, “just thought I’d mention something before your aunt does. You know how she is sometimes.”
*But, your aunt hasn’t mentioned anything to me. Whenever your aunt is home, your door seems to be shut. Odd.*
“You’re sweet Uncle Jay.” She reaches her hand forward to give my forearm the most subtle stroke. Her hand lingers for longer than I expected. As my eyes glance up from where her hand was, I notice something. Is she not wearing a bra? My word she isn’t. Her nipples, blatantly pointed, give it away.
*What is wrong with you, Jay? You’re 29 and married, not some pre-pubescent teen – get it together!*
“And look,” she said, pulling her hand away. “I’m really grateful for your hospitality, and to aunty too. I must be such a nuisance. I’ll try be more attentive.”
“That’s all I ask Safi!” I said with a tight lipped smile, “And we’re happy to have you here, really. You’re no nuisance at all!”
She returned my smile with her own, and brought her hands together between her crossed legs; upper arms pushing into her perky breasts to reveal more of her ample bosom.
*My god, how are those breasts so firmly held up?*
Still feeling stupidly awkward, and not knowing how to end the conversation, my eyes continued to shift around.
“Well I’ll leave you to your break” I said in an uncharacteristically high voice, “I bet you’ve been at it all day!”
Now she begins to shift her eyes, and starts playing with her hair.
“Well, uhmmm,” she says, “I haven’t been working *all* day. I went out earlier, was a little cheeky and treated myself!” She smiles mischievously, revealing dimples in her rosy cheeks.
“Oh nice!” I said a little too enthusiastically. “You go shopping or something?”
“Nope.” Without warning, she then thrusts her right foot towards me, pointing her toes, then wriggling them.
“Oh, you do something to your nails?” I asked stupidly. I try not to gape at her caramel, smooth legs, and slender toes.
“Yeah!” she chirped excitedly. “Got a pedi this morning. Bit of TLC you know?”
She angled her foot one way, then the other, showing off her shapely arches. Her soles gently resting against my outer thigh, she shows me the French tips, and brilliant clear polish on her nails. They looked incredible!
“She’s done a pretty good job I think,” Safi said, “and reasonably priced too!”
She continued her demonstration, pinching her toes. Caressing her soles against my leg. It was impossible not to look and admire. I noticed she had a delicate, silver anklet on as well, and a matching toe ring on her other foot, which was pressed against her inner thigh.
My heart quickened at this point, and there was a definite shortening of my breath, and a bead of sweat developing above my brow. Something was coming over me – rushing over me in fact, drowning me.
“She did a great job.” I said softly, almost a whisper. My previous shyness, awkwardness, slowly evaporating, I bring up my leg on to the bed, and face her fully. I tilt my head and admire the slender foot now resting at my knee. Writhing ever so slightly. “A great job!”
I bring up my hand from my other lap, and motion towards her foot. Glancing up for a fraction of a second to gauge her reaction. Nothing.
I lightly pinch her middle toe, pointing it slightly. Admiring the finish on her nails. Now she shifts her body to lean back on her hands. Expecting a more detailed examination of her pedicure. I had to oblige.
As I glance up again, I see her chest pushed out, almost comically; her breasts tight against the tank top. Her nipples are undeniably erect. There is no doubt she isn’t wearing a bra.
I stroke her sole with the palm of my hand, and then cup the arch of her foot. Then her heel. Before lightly caressing the top.
So soft. So incredibly soft
“Wow,” I couldn’t help but exclaim under my breath, completely oblivious to myself “so smooth.”
“Yeah,” she said plainly, “they give your feet a good scrub too so they feel nice and soft!”
*Do I sense some nervousness in your voice now, Safi?*
I shuffle slightly closer towards her, so that her foot has to rest on top of my leg. Again, I glance up to gauge a reaction. She is perfectly still.
*Do I hear your breath getting heavier, Safi?*
My hands move from the flats of her foot, up to her ankles. I delicately finger the silver anklet. I slowly slip my fingers up towards her slender calves. Has she had her legs waxed as well? TLC indeed!
There is an uncomfortable pressure against the crotch of my pants now. I don’t believe I’ve ever been this hard. I glance down between my legs, the outline of my shaft is obvious through these thin, office trousers.
*Do you see it as well, Safi?*
“Uhmm..Uncle Jay..?” she queries, gently, not moving the foot that is pointed centimetres away from my now throbbing hardness.
I’m unable to speak. In a trance. In awe of her smoothness. Her delicate youthfulness.
By now my hand is making it’s way up to her knee. I don’t think I’ve ever been this aroused, the pressure against the crotch of my trousers is almost painful. Not hearing a protest, or feeling a movement of her leg, I bring my other hand up to stroke the circumference of her lower leg, and begin to approach her thigh. I feel goose bumps against her flawless skin. I hear a definite shortening of her breath.
“Uncle Jay, you’re so weird!” She says half-jokingly, and snatches her leg back suddenly, not with any amount of force, but enough to snap me out of my spell.
I look up at her quizzical expression, arms still behind her back leaning on the bed, exposing the full shape of her perky breasts, nipples standing to attention. Her legs were crossed again now, causing the shorts to squeeze tightly against her crotch, revealing the shape of her mound.
I am suddenly aware of myself staring. Ogling. I look up at her face again, still looking puzzled, but maybe with some curiosity in her eyes. I almost get up to leave at this point. Just bolt, and shut the door behind me, and call my wife. But I am possessed. Something is stirring in me. This isn’t me at all, yet at the same time, it is me to my very core.
A brief silence. I hear her breath, even more laboured now, heaving her bosom up and down. Up and down. I let out a long sigh, and stare deeply in to her dark eyes. Time stands still…
I reach forward with speed, grabbing her crossed legs by the calves. Yanking hard, I manage to drag her towards me. She’s so light! It was no effort at all.
She let’s out a surprised gasp, as her hands slip out from under her, causing her to fall back with force. “Uncle Jay!”
As I drag her along the bed towards me, the realisation of what was about to happen dawns on her, and she kicks her legs up and down. Not so hard that I lose my grip on her slim calves, but still with a surprising amount of strength.
I pull her even closer to me, letting go of her calves to provide a moment’s respite for her, but then immediately wrapping my strong hands around her thighs. Pulling her closer still, her crotch is now against mine.
She is still trying to kick out of my grip, but it’s no use. Her struggle is giving me more determination, and strength.
Loosening my grip for a brief moment, I slam her torso down in to the bed as she tries to sit up. Putting one hand on her chest to keep her down, I use my other to tug down her lightweight shorts in one decisive motion.
I see she is wearing a purple lace thong, and there is undoubtedly a patch of fresh moisture that has seeped through the front. The underwear is so slight and thin, and have moved to the side slightly, exposing the wetness that has created a silky sheen on her lips. Nothing I have ever seen has looked so inviting.
I take my hand off her chest, and she must thinks now is her chance to put up more resistance as she tries to sit back up. But almost instantly, I grab both her thighs again, and stand up at the edge of the bed. Her being so short – 5’2″, say, compared to my 6’1″ frame – the only part of her body on the bed now is her shoulders and head. She is well and truly in my possession now.
Shifting my grip so that one arm is holding her whole body up by the waist, I use my free hand to rip off her delicate thong with little trouble. I can smell her inner sweetness. Taste it almost. I then grab her by her thighs again – which, compared to her lower legs and waist, were quite meaty I must say – and plunge my face in her wetness, with passionate aggression.
I work the flat of my tongue all around her tight, smooth lips. Tasting every bit of her. Savouring her. It seems she has taken full advantage of the waxing parlour. All the while, her heels are kicking against my shoulders and upper back. And her hands are pressed against my temples, trying to push my head away from between her legs. But she may as well not bother!
I tighten my grip on her thick thighs, and almost lift her entire weight completely off the bed. She shrieks with surprise. I groan with pleasure.
I point my tongue finally, and slip inside her, my nose buried in her mound. The motion of my tongue inside her is aggressive, but regular. Like a boat chopping on a rough sea. I lick her harder, and smother my face in her mound, on the inside of her thigh, the smoothness is beyond belief!
With a few final flicks of my tongue inside her, I hear a groan. A long, breathless groan. Almost a cry. Her thighs tighten their grip around my temple, almost blocking my ears, and the kicking of her heels against my upper back finally ceases. I feel a quiver. Multiple quivers. After a sharp intake of her breath and final spasm, her legs become relaxed. She stops her struggle. Silence.
As I released her from my grip, she becomes limp on the bed. Hands covering her face, maybe embarrassed about the noises she made. How it felt. Her legs were splayed on the bed, open. Revealing her smooth, silk-like slit. Literally dripping wet. I imagine I could slide in her with no effort at all.
In the moment of respite, with her trying to catch her breath behind her hands, I unbutton my shirt, and take off my trousers and shorts. Relief! It was getting uncomfortable down there.
I approach her, breathing heavily, stiff as a mast. Upon hearing my steps, she lets out a little shriek, and reflexively turns on her side, cowering. Almost in the foetal position.
“Wait. No.” She whimpers. But no protestations would stop me now.
I pause for a moment to look at her behind. It was phenomenal. Hard to believe such a plump package could be part of such a small girl.
I straightened her legs with force. She lay on her stomach now, completely, revealing the full, glorious curve of her behind. And 2 subtle dimples in the small of her back. Perfection.
I climbed on to the bed, sitting with my legs apart over her lower legs. I grabbed her plump buttocks with both hands, and began stroking them ever so gently. Not a single blemish on the smooth skin.
I became more firm now, aggressively squeezing each cheek with my fingers. Spreading them apart. Revealing her wetness, and the full glory of her behind. The pinkness almost winking at me with her every breath.
Her hole looked too good to resist. I spread out her cheeks, and proceeded to tongue her around her rim. Almost going all the way. She tastes like…peaches. body butter perhaps? Very adventurous to be spreading it so low. I give her rump one firm bite before bringing my head up. My manhood is THROBBING now, yearning the feel of slippery velvet.
My hands still grasping her buttocks, I push forward, revealing her pink clam. A thing of beauty when it is this moist. And with her other hole poised above, I feel spoilt for choice. But, no. That’s for another time. I don’t want her to be too traumatised after all.
My cock hovering between her cheeks, throbbing with every pulse of my heart, I rub my tip around and between her smooth slit. Absorbing her moisture. Savouring the touch. I hear her muffled cries in anticipation of what’s to come, and feel her clench up.
Despite the resistance, I slide my tip in to her in one smooth motion with little effort. I feel her walls clamping against my head, and then my shaft. Slowly my entire length is in her, feeling her warmth and wetness against every inch.
The feeling is heavenly. That anyone can be this tight beggars belief, yet she is. And still as wet as a peach.
I drive in to her with long, deep thrusts. Holding her down from her buttocks at first, firmly grasping each cheek to spread her out as wide as I dare. With every thrust out, her lips wrap around my length as if to hold me in. To get more of a hold, i then shift my grip and hold on to her waist. She’s so slender, I can almost wrap my hands around her entire belly. I continue driving in and out of her with vigorous passion, thrusting my own hips mainly, but then taking advantage of her slight build and backing her in to me with my powerful hands. With every thrust, I groan with bliss, and she lets out sharp, weak moans, her hands clasping the bed sheets.
I can feel my climax building, a few more strokes and I know I’ll gush out uncontrollably. But wanting to savour the moment further, I slip out of her. She lets out one more exasperated moan and weakly attempts to free herself of my grip, but it’s no use.
As I go to stand up at the edge of the bed, I slide my hands down from her waist, to her wide hips, my thumbs pressing in to the meat of her buttocks. Using my left hand to pivot, I begin to pull my right hand up to try and flip Safi on to her front. But there is a surprising amount of resistance, and I notice her clasping the bed fiercely. With a greater amount of ferocity, I let out a sharp, almost angry, grunt and manage to turn her on to her front, revealing the full glory of her slippery wet mound, and the vibrant pinkness inside.
Knowing what is to come, and having finally found some freedom after being in my iron grip for so long, Safi begins to kick her legs furiously. “That’s enough. Please.” She pleads. Though her blows are powerless against my torso, I bat each foot away in turn before it strikes me.
To put an end to the resistance, I finally lunge my hands forward to grab her by the thighs, and pull her towards me at the edge of the bed. It is at the perfect height, my cock hovering just over the surface, and now resting on her pubic bone.
Shifting my grip from her thighs to her waist, I hold on to her tightly and position myself to enter her wetness once again. Anticipating more resistance, and noticing she is wetter than she will probably ever be, I thrust my tip in to her, with a satisfying pop. This causes her to slam both her hands in to the bed and grab the sheets again. I notice her mouth gape open, and her eyes roll back, before closing.
Feeling my excitement building beyond anything I’ve ever experienced, I use my elbows to push her thighs further apart, before thrusting my entire length in to her. She lets out yet another weak gasp, her eyes still shut, her cheeks rosy.
I drive in and out of her, slowly at first, using just my own hips, hearing her curse under her breath. But then as my pleasure begins to mount further, I shift my energy towards my arms, and take advantage of her small figure by pulling her in to me by the waist. I do this more and more aggressively until she finally snaps out of her limp state and opens her eyes, showing signs of determination.
She makes an effort to hunch forward, finding it evidently difficult while being handled like a doll. Nevertheless, she manages to lean on one elbow, and uses her other hand to try and counter my deep thrusts. Her delicate hands pushing against my naval, and my pubic bone. She may have felt like it was fighting back, but she may as well have been stroking my skin, her touch getting me closer to the edge of climax.
Realising the futility of her resistance, she begins to scratch at my abs. Perhaps due to the adrenaline rushing through me, her clawing didn’t cause me any pain – on the contrary, the feeling was more arousing than gentle strokes in this scenario. However, not wanting to explain any marks on my body to my wife, I feign anger and slap her hand away, and she sinks back in to the bed, exhausted.
The effort has left her panting for breath. As I see her chest heaving up and down, I notice her tank top has rolled up to just underneath her breasts, uncovering her perfect stomach. I run my fingers up her naval, and then underneath her top. I can’t help but let out a wondrous sigh, in awe of her soft skin, and firm breasts.
Wanting to see the beauty beneath, I tug down hard at her tank top, hearing a tear in the fabric. She gasps, and instinctively brings a hand up to cover the single breast now revealed. I grab her wrist, and force the hand back on the bed, and then the other, and a small scream escapes her. With no strength left to fight my grip, I take a moment to admire the perfect breast that has broken free. The dark nipple contrasts beautifully against her caramel skin, on which there isn’t a single blemish. To caress, and suck on them would be a joyous experience no doubt, but that would have to be for another time. For now, my mind is racing with thoughts of continuing where I left off, and drilling in to her a final time.
I release her wrists, and grit my teeth with determination showing my intent. I expect another brief fight at this point, but nothing. She lay limply on the bed, arms sprawled above her head, legs either side of mine over the edge of the bed, eyes closed. She is resigned to her fate, as soft, tired moans escape her. I ready myself for the finish.
I bring her left leg up from my side, and push against the back of her thigh bending her knee towards her chest. Holding her in that position, I see her shapely buttocks, thighs, calves, and gorgeous feet in all their glory, and I resume my pounding while admiring her curves, as she winces with each thrust.
This angle allows for even deeper penetration than before, and gives even more pleasure. My head is swimming with thoughts of exactly how I should release my seed; should I continue in this position? Should I mount her completely? Or flip her around again to see her marvellous buttocks, rippling in sync with the motion of my hips?
I make my decision. I release my grip from behind her knee, and instantaneously wrap the same hand around the top of her thigh. Bringing my other hand to do the same, I pull her whole leg close to my body, hugging her thigh, feeling her skin against my chest and stomach.
With her leg fully in my embrace now, my pounding makes a satisfying slapping noise against her skin. Hugging her closer still, her soft foot is pressed against my face, the arch sitting nicely within the dent of my cheek bone.
The build up of my climax is almost overwhelming now, I won’t be able to prolong it much longer. I slow down my rhythm slightly, but it doesn’t abate the pressure building in the base of my shaft. Safi begins to writhe her foot against my face, her soft soles rubbing against my temple and cheek. I turn my head so that my lips can also feel the caress and open my mouth, scraping my teeth gently against her soles.
After a final, sharp intake of breath, and a few more strokes, I’m almost there. Safi continues pressing her foot in to my face, and almost into my mouth. “Oh God!” I hear her gasp. Whether it’s from pleasure or distress, I couldn’t say. She then points her foot, and pinches my cheek as she curls her delicate toes, and I feel the smooth edges of her immaculately clipped nails digging into my skin.
But I feel no pain or discomfort from this. On the contrary, this touch is precisely what pushes me to climax, as my eyes roll back, and I feel blood rushing to my head.
With one final thrust, my load comes gushing out. In one voluminous burst. Two. Three. Four bursts. Every pump sending spasms down my spine, and causing me to groan in ecstasy. The feeling keeps going. The warm fluid flowing in to her at pace. All the while, she is breathing heavily, almost in relief.
With my mouth agape, jaw hanging loosely due to the indescribable pleasure I just experienced, I muzzle my mouth with the ball of her foot, and her big toe somehow makes it’s way partly in to my cheek, almost fish hooking me. Whether she did that on purpose, I’ll never know, as my eyes are still shut, savouring every last spasm of pleasure.
I snap out of my trance, and gradually open my eyes, my body shaking from the experience. I look down towards Safi while still loosely holding her leg, by the ankle now, her foot resting against my shoulder. Her one breast is still hanging out of the white tank top, and the other is almost uncovered too, her areola just about visible. She is breathing heavily, her head to the side, clearly trying not to look at me. But I see the look of shame on her face, mixed with exhaustion.
Now that I’ve composed myself a little, I slowly pull out of her, and watch my load dribble out of her slit. The viscous, white liquid travels in two distinct waves, slowly down her lips, and then in to the crease of her buttocks, before leaving a small pool on the bed. She makes no attempt to stem the outpour, or to clean up. I’ve never released so much, and I’m not sure I ever will again.
I let go of her ankle, taking a final look at her beautiful pedicure – the thing that started it all only moments ago – before placing her leg back on the bed.
As I stand back to look at her splayed on the bed with her legs apart and my cum still flowing out of her, my cock becoming softer, and my sack all but drained, I feel as though a great weight has been lifted off me. As though my purpose for the past few months – while Safi has been teasing, and enticing me – has been fulfilled. And rather than guilt, I feel a great deal of satisfaction.
I say nothing, and get dressed, leisurely.
“I’ll see you downstairs in a bit,” I said, picking up my still warm cup of tea, “I’m thinking we’ll make a curry for dinner.”
I leave the room, feeling as light as a feather, knowing that there’ll be a next time.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/8i94vy/putting_an_end_to_my_nieces_baiting_rapekink_mf