Toes a la Mode (Ma Cheri)

"My God, Mike...don't you dare stop! Oh, please don't, Mike." The soft
statement trailed off into a sigh as her toes once again made firm
contact with his mouth.

But something stopped them both in their tracks. Suddenly, light
filled the theater. The movie had ended. Mike had fondled and loved
Cheri's feet throughout the entire movie, and the theater's automated
system had turned on the lights.

Their hazy minds focused just in time to hear the theater employees
entering the screening room to prepare it for the next showing. In
they came with their brooms and waste baskets. That's when the
scurrying began. Mike sat up quickly, heart pounding, but he still
held one of Cheri's feet by the heel, though not for long. The foot
that had tried to ram its way into his mouth shot back between the
seat backs and was valiantly trying to cram itself into its leather
prison once again, as was its equally pleasured mate.

Having succeeded in shoving her feet back into her shoes, Cheri sat
nervously, seeing Mike for the first time in full, bright light. His
face was flushed, as was hers, and he was looking at her wide-eyed,
also seeing her face clearly for the first time. They stared at each
other as the theater help moved about mechanically, sweeping and
grumbling.

Both Cheri and Mike felt like naughty children, almost getting caught
doing something wonderfully bad. They stared at each other for a full
minute, then both broke into nervous laughter. When the laughter
stopped, they looked at each other with admiration...and more. They
were excited, giddy. They understood that something meaningful had
happened, and each was thinking of some way to expand upon it. Mike,
still a little unsure if he'd overstepped his bounds, despite Cheri's
obvious approval of everything he did, spoke first.

"Uh...Cheri...I hope I didn't...I mean, it seemed like you
enjoyed....well....I mean....did you?"

"My God, Mike....that was incredible. I felt so....special...so....."
Words failed her.

"Are you sure?" Mike asked, needing definite approval.

"Yes, Mike," Cheri replied, finally relaxing a bit, "I really enjoyed
that. I mean, I really, REALLY loved it. Thank you ever so much."

"Well," he mumbled, fidgeting, "maybe we could go out to dinner
together? Maybe talk a little? I don't know about you, but I'd like
that."

Cheri's eyes sparkled. Her words put the final nail in his coffin.
"Mike, I'd love that...especially if you treat my feet like that
again."

It was Mike's turn to have sparkling eyes. He smiled and sighed,
speaking clearly despite his thumping heart. "I'd consider myself the
luckiest guy on the planet to treat your feet any way you liked. So,"
he cleared his throat, "shall we go somewhere and talk? Maybe have
dinner?" He fought hard to keep from showing how much he hoped she'd
say yes.

"I'd love that. Yes...definitely!" was her reply. Her voice was the
controlled squeal of a schoolgirl kissed by the school hunk.

Their smiles seemed to touch, meeting somewhere in the air halfway
between them. Both were horny from what had happened, but there was
more. It was like they'd each found something they thought they'd
never find.

"Shall we go, then? I mean, together?" Mike asked.

"Oh, you bet, Mike. After what I just experienced, you may NEVER get
away from me. Lead the way, my hero."

Cheri found and collected her crumpled thigh highs, leaving her mostly
finished soft drink in the arm of the seat. Mike looked at his uneaten
popcorn and barely sipped fruit punch and left them where they were,
to be collected by the robotic theater help. Both of them walked to
the end of their rows and stood smiling at each other before turning
to go down the stairs. When they came close to one another, Cheri's
right hand and Mike's left jerked almost imperceptibly, each of them
feeling a fleeting urge to clasp one another, to hold hands as they
descended the lighted stairway. It was a brief period of subconscious
awkwardness...as both of them felt that such an act would be way too
premature.

When they got to the parking lot, Mike said, "Let's take my car. We'll
come back for your car later. Is that okay with you?"

"Mike, I'll go where those fantastic lips of yours take me. Lead on,
my foot pampering hero." She didn't know him, but somehow felt safe
with him. She got good vibes from this cute fellow, and trusted him.
Besides, if he tried anything, she was tough enough to make him wish
he hadn't. The testicle earmuff vision came waltzing back into her
mind. She laughed a silent, internal laugh.

As they walked, they looked around, not sure what to say to one
another. At some point about halfway to Mike's car, their arms
intertwined, finally completing the act their hands hadn't in the
theater. Somehow, interlocking their arms wasn't as much a statement
of familiarity as holding hand's would've been. Or, maybe they just
felt it was now okay to touch. In any case, they walked arm in arm.
They arrived at Mike's car, settled themselves into it, and drove off
to have dinner together, both of them trembling with excitement and
tingling all over. The air crackled with electricity. Two hopeful
minds bubbled over with endless possibilities.

Most of the conversation in the car consisted of small talk, congenial
chat. As with all first conversations it was a feeling out process.
Mike and Cheri were quite simply just getting to know each other. Both
deftly skirted the foot fetish issue, eschewing any talk of what
happened in the theater in favor of idle pleasantries...though both of
them wanted so, so badly to talk about it.

Mike drove aimlessly at first, until he and Cheri finally got around
to discussing where to have dinner. It seemed that food was the
furthest thing from their minds. Cheri was in the mood for something
quick, and suggested several fast food places. She had skipped buying
food at the theater, and was now rapidly becoming famished. Although
Mike had bought popcorn, he had actually consumed barely more than a
few kernels. His mouth had been much too preoccupied with Cheri's
soft, tender feet to waste its time with puffed, bloated corn. He,
too, was in need of sustenance.

After only a few minutes of deliberation, it was mutually decided that
a local Burger Barn would do nicely. That way they could sit in the
car and talk privately, with no fears of big-eared waiters or
waitresses overhearing what might turn into very personal talk. Even
the mention of "privacy" had them both anticipating what a private
conversation might entail. Each of them wondered how the subject of
foot worship and the events at the theater might be broached...and by
whom.

Mike was so nervous about the whole thing, that when he gave their
order at the drive through - barely understanding the broken, staticky
voice that sputtered back his order - his voice was cracking almost as
much as the one coming from the slightly rusted speaker. He had to
clear his throat several times because the five chicken nuggets
displayed in the picture he happened to notice on the menu around the
speaker, just happened to be arranged side by side, reminding him of
Cheri's all too edible toes. But, he managed to give the order, drive
up to the next window to pay, and then escape with their fast food
gourmet treats. He pulled around and parked behind the restaurant.
Still being a bit early for dinner, there were few customers parked in
the lot. Mike and Cheri opened the various cardboard containers and
happily chomped and slurped their meals, once again engaging in small
talk between chews.

Neither of them could figure out a way to broach the foot fetish
subject. Even after they'd finished their meals, the talk remained
innocent, pleasant, basically interesting, but under the
circumstances...dull. Not that the two didn't click, or enjoy talking
with one another, but they both wanted to babble incessantly about the
incredible turn of events in the theater. Cheri ached to have his
hands rubbing her feet again, see his mouth enjoying her toes instead
of chicken nuggets. Mike yearned for her to kick off her shoes and
plop them in his lap...strictly and "solely" as a starting point, of
course. He did have "normal" needs, too, after all. Man does not live
by toes alone! But neither of them had the courage to start things
off.

Cheri had decided not to partake of any of the Burger Barn's dessert
items, but Mike had purchased an ice cream sundae to finish off his
meal. Cheri was content to talk about whatever came to her while Mike
savored the vanilla ice cream and the tasty hot fudge.

As much as they enjoyed each other's company, the sexual tension
between them could've been cut with a chainsaw. Both were getting
edgy, restless. If one of them didn't break down and talk tootsies
soon, one or both of them would need to be fitted for a
straight-jacket. After about a half dozen spoonfuls of ice cream, Mike
couldn't take it anymore.

"Cheri," he said, a pleading look in his eyes, "I have to tell you
something. I hope it doesn't offend you."

Cheri's heart skipped a beat. She was literally vibrating from head to
toe. She had to take a deep breath in order to have enough lung force
to say, "What, Mike? What is it? I doubt you'll offend me."

Mike tried to hold back, keep his feelings at least somewhat in check,
but pent up, unsatisfied desires from the last dozen years, coupled
with flashbacks of kissing Cheri's feet, betrayed him. It all came out
as a rambling, convoluted mess of deep feelings and yearnings.
"Cheri," he said, "I don't know how to say this, but what happened at
the theater....I mean...it was like....it was incredible. I must've
just phased out. I mean, it was so fantastic just rubbing and kissing
your feet, that....I don't know...I could've kissed them all night."

Cheri's face was beaming. Her mouth was ear to ear smile. Her
breathing quickened. She was about to blurt out how much she too
enjoyed it, when the stumbling and bumbling Mike continued.

"I'm sorry if this offends you, but your feet are gorgeous...so soft
and sexy...so sweet, kissable. I know you only wanted a foot rub, but
I just...I couldn't help myself. I HAD to kiss them. I've never wanted
anything so bad in my entire life. And I wanted to do so much more
than just kiss them. I wanted to...." He caught himself, realizing
that if he went further with his statement and Cheri took offense,
he'd probably never see her again. As he hesitated, a very elated
Cheri saw clearly that a crossroads had been reached. It was now or
never. This was the chance to get everything out in the open and make
this whole thing work.

"What, Mike? Tell me, what did you want to do besides kiss my feet?"
The look on her face was of breathless anticipation. Mike saw that
look and finally felt comfortable enough to go for broke. But he still
babbled his feelings.

"I wanted to....oh, jeez...how do I say this without sounding like a
total perv?...I wanted to hold your feet to my face and nuzzle them
and hug them and just....well....suck your toes...and lick your
feet...and like, just lightly chew them and suck them all over. I
wanted to rub your soles all over my face and just sniff in their
scent and kiss them over and over and over again. I wanted your
gorgeous feet to just be...I don't know...a part of me. Oh, God, that
must sound totally twisted...I'm so sorry..." he chuckled nervously,
"really...I didn't mean to get so creepy on you."

"Mike," Cheri said softly, trying to control the heart-thumping glee
she was feeling, "it's fine. Believe me, I loved when you started
kissing my feet. I've wanted a guy to do that for years now. I've even
ASKED guys to do it, but they never would. When you started kissing my
toes, I nearly flew through the roof...and I mean that in a good way.
And I wanted you to do more to my feet, too. That's what I was trying
to tell you when I first asked you to rub my feet. So, relax...I'm not
only flattered that you like my feet, but I'm...well...really excited
that you do. And all those things you just mentioned? I'd KILL to have
a guy do those things to my feet. My feet are definitely an erogenous
zone for me. A guy doing things like that to them would drive me
insane! So, if you're serious about any of that at all...my feet are
all yours."

There it was...spoken at last. Both had admitted their desires and
feelings. Each had given the other their outspoken approval. All the
fears of admitting such intimate thoughts to one another, of confiding
in another human being their unusual needs, were gone. It was like a
great flood of doubt and feared regret draining from each of them. For
several minutes, they just stared at each other, their eyes locking
then drifting apart as they looked at the totality of one another,
then meeting again. They both liked what they saw, both inside and
out. Finally, Mike broke the silence.

"You know what I'd really love to do right now?" Mike asked in a low,
guarded voice.

"No, Mike. What would you like to do?" came Cheri's equally quiet
response.

"I'd like...I'd like...," he hesitated momentarily, then barged ahead,
"I'd like to take those cruel shoes off of you right now and show you
how much I truly adore your feet." He looked down at the floor,
wondering what Cheri was thinking, even after their confessions just
moments ago. He had a pounding erection, and could feel his face
flushed with both excitement and embarrassment. He knew he must look
like a fidgeting, drooling idiot to Cheri.

Since his head was bent downward, he didn't see Cheri turn in her seat
and swing her legs toward him. What he did see quite clearly was her
tortured, shoe-smothered feet plop into his lap.

"Why don't you go ahead and do that, Mike? Take my shoes off for me.
Then you can do as you please with my feet. Carte Blanche, remember?"
She winked, but he missed it because he was looking at those cruel
shoes.

He looked up, unbelieving. Her eyes seemed to urge him on...encourage
him. When he looked back down, Cheri's feet were moving in his lap. He
could almost hear muffled cries from her poor, trapped feet, begging
him to remove their persecutors and love them passionately. They were
cries he couldn't ignore, especially now...knowing that Cheri wouldn't
want him to ignore them.

Mike looked back and forth from Cheri's eyes to her feet as he removed
first one, then the other shoe. But once her feet were again bare, he
couldn't take his eyes off them. The sight of those wiggling toes
brought back vivid memories of how they felt against his lips, and he
ached deep in his soul to have that experience again. He sighed,
trying to decide where to begin. Cheri made that decision for him.

Mike's hot fudge sundae had been waiting patiently throughout the
baring of souls...and soles. It sat there on the dashboard, just now
beginning to melt, looking inviting to almost anyone's palate. Cheri
leaned over and dipped her finger in hot fudge sauce, making sure to
capture a good sticky gob of it. She then leaned forward a bit more
and dabbed the sauce on the tip of the toes of her left foot,
streaking the sticky brown sauce from her big toe to what she called
her "baby" toe. The hot fudge dribbled slowly down each toe.

"I hope you like your sundae, Mike," she smiled. Her heart was
pounding in her chest. It pounded even harder when she saw the
schoolboy smile of pure glee plastered on Mike's face.

He lifted the anointed foot with reverence, as if it were as fragile
as a single gossamer strand of cotton candy. He raised it until her
toes were even with his chin. He sighed audibly as he watched the
chocolate slowly inching its way down those toes. He stuck out his
tongue with the intention of calmly licking the sauce from the slender
digits, but when he did his entire body shuddered and he lost control.
His mouth suddenly gained a will of its own, lunging forward to suck
eagerly at Cheri's fudgy "tootsie rolls."

The warmth of the hot fudge alone on her toes was enough to make Cheri
tremble with delight, but when she saw Mike's mouth voraciously
sucking it off her toes, it made her gasp with pleasure. She squirmed
once again, eyes wide as she watched her toes being devoured. Mike
sucked them hungrily, his mind more melted than the ice cream.

His sucking lips were very soon joined by his licking tongue. He
licked and sucked her toes until they were spotless. You could never
tell there had been any hot fudge on them at all. Still trembling,
awash in sexual lust and desire, Mike pulled back from his chocolate
snack to give his eyes a chance to feast on Cheri's lovely feet. When
he did, the pause in the action was an agonizing Hell for her. Not
even thinking about it, she reached again for the shallow bowl of ice
cream. This time she didn't bother with a gentle dabbing of sauce on
her toes. That proved too easily...and quickly...lapped away. No, this
time she tipped the dish above her foot and let all the melted ice
cream and its clinging hot fudge pour over her feet...both of them.
She never even thought of the possible consequences for Mike's poor
jeans, or the seat of his car. She was not thinking at all clearly.
Her brain had been shut down, and her motor was now running purely on
hormones, all of them careening madly toward the moistening tuft
between her legs.

Mike watched the liquid swirl of vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup
drench Cheri's ten wiggling toes, gliding down toes and instep, along
the sides of her feet, over her ankles to her heels. He watched with
glazed eyes as it dribbled between her toes and ran down her soles. As
he watched, ecstatic, her feet became two wonderfully tasty, sticky
sundaes.

Cheri wiggled her toes, feeling the cool mixture squeeze between them.
She rubbed her feet together, smearing the liquid dessert over every
inch of them. She delighted in the stickiness of her toes and how some
parts of her feet were cool from ice cream while others were warm from
the hot fudge. It was a mind-boggling mix of sensations - hot, cool
and sticky - all over her feet, and she loved it. But what started the
flood between her legs was the thought of Mike's warm mouth licking
and sucking all of it up. Her sticky, sweet, toe sundae just for him.

Mike looked up at her, staring into her eyes. They twinkled back at
him. Her smile was as sticky sweet as her feet now were. As he looked
at her grinning face, he saw her wiggling her bottom back and forth.
She leaned back against the inside of the car door. She was snuggling
herself into the car seat, getting comfortable. With a grin of his
own, Mike realized she wanted to enjoy this as much as he did, and she
was getting herself prepared for a long session of foot tasting on his
part. She'd offered him some tasty "toes a la mode", and now she was
nestling back to enjoy watching him devour it.

"Looks like you've got your work cut out for you," she said, still
grinning.

"Yes," he said with a glimmer in his eyes, "looks like I most
certainly do." He wasn't the least bit concerned about his jeans or
his car seat. He wouldn't have cared in the slightest if a tornado was
brewing outside or if a barrage of mortar shells were tearing up the
asphalt outside his car door. His eyes were focused on the sticky,
dripping, tasty looking feet purring on his lap.

With a sigh and a final snuggle into the seat cushion, Cheri said
softly, "Bon appetite, Mike." Her body all but hummed its
anticipation, and she was forced to use every ounce of her self
control not to cackle gleefully like some triumphant madman in a
cheesy psycho flick. Finally, her feet were going to be properly
appreciated.

Mike's salivary glands were working overtime as he stared at Cheri's
ice cream coated feet. He was forced to continually swallow or choke
on his own saliva. His hands trembled as he lifted the first foot, his
wide eyes noting every drip of ice cream, every spot of sticky
chocolate syrup. Cheri's eager toes curled and wiggled, making the
sticky fudge stretch and string between them. It looked so deliciously
gooey. Mike kept staring, his eyes roaming eagerly over every inch of
her sweetened foot. His mind was having a hard time accepting that he
could be this lucky.