The weekend passed and I did not hear from nor see her, which sent me through the typical emotional spiral of fear and anger but finally settling on acceptance.
Was she mad at me? Did I mis-understand what had happened? Read too much into what she was projecting? Difficult to say without talking to her. Should I call?
No. If she wanted to move what ever was happening forward, it would have to be at her pace.
Monday came, and though I promised to let it go as a passing fancy, I could not stop thinking about her, her toes, and what this might all mean.
Now to clarify, I have no particular affinity for feet themselves. While clean, dainty and well kept feet are a delight, I have no interest in anything less than, well, the feet of a Princess.
And that she has in spades.
I do, however, appreciate the status of serving at the feet of a Princess, and the role of both parties.
As you can see, my acceptance is but fleeting.
But I bargain with myself that I can continue to fantasies about this, but if I don’t hear from her by the end of tomorrow, it will end there.
Wednesday morning comes far too quickly and I settle my mind back to reality. It was a chance meeting, and thinking back, I don’t recall us ever having been alone with each other in the past. The thrill of the encounter was just some long hidden feelings that never played out much earlier when they normally would have.
As a developer, I often have my phone on silent, except for those few people who might need to contact me in an emergency. She is not one of them.
Late afternoon while sitting at work, I notice my phone flashing with a message.
Having given up any hope of seeing those 10 little red toes in anything but a formal setting, I don’t give it a second thought. Casually I unlock my phone, note the message is about 45 minutes old, and from her.
In the time it takes the light on the phone to blink, my mind races to find which one of the emotions it wants to land on.
Why did it take her nearly a week to send me anything? Would this be a “rejection” message? An apology? An invitation?
The light blinks now a second time and I decide to plunge forward and open the message.
Light travels at 183,000 miles per second and in less time than it takes for the image to reach my eyes, all of my questions are answered as on the screen is a picture of five little red toes.
A message follows:
Sorry about the delay. Had to work over time a few nights, and simply too tired the others. Got out today, which was a very welcome treat. I thought you should see. Thanks
The formality of the message plays like a simple thank you for a charitable gift, but something about the picture says otherwise. A long shot of too much leg, the entire top of her foot, plus those 5 red toes almost posed, most likely not the first attempt at capturing just the right mood.
The reply takes me another 30 minutes to compose:
Looks good! Hope they did the other 5, too. Maybe see this weekend.
“Maybe see this weekend” was the hardest part.
See what? See her? Them? Perhaps I meant “maybe see YOU this weekend” and forgot the “you”…at least that was the story I would tell if someone else saw the message.
While waiting for the reply, I added her number to the “make noise if” option on my phone and even before I was done I got the famous winky face emoji.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/af45yf/the_start_of_something_part2sister_in_law_sfwso