Room For Rent [Part 8 - The Foot Massage]
I slipped out of my high heels and gently kicked them into the corner of the room, throwing myself onto the couch dramatically, face down.
“Rough day?” Jason asked.
“Ugh. I’m exhausted,” I said, sitting up and stretching out my legs toward him. “So pointless going into the office. We don’t do anything there that we don’t already do remotely.”
“At least you only have to go in once a week, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Mr. Positivity…”
He smiled, picking up his phone. “Just saying, it could be worse.”
“True…”
On the TV, a chef poured ribbons of syrup over a cake. I watched for a moment and then sighed, slumping lower on my end of the couch. I flexed my toes, the nylon of my stockings stretching thin. The motion made me aware of myself, of my body, of the need deep within me. A low, guilty thought crept in. Actually, it was more like an idea. A naughty one. I tried to push it away; part of me wanted to stay casual, normal, to keep things safe between us, just housemates. But another part still ached to push, to lean into the tension, to see how far I could go before he broke.
“You should rub my feet.”
“W-what?” he asked.
“C’mon,” I teased, poking his thigh with my toes. “I must’ve walked about twelve miles in those heels today. And I just know you’re good with your hands. All that coding and gaming…”
“Really?”
“No. Unreally.”
He let out a short laugh, nervous, and glanced down at my foot. I didn’t move it. I just wiggled my toes again and waited. He looked at them a moment longer and then set his phone down gently on the arm of the couch.
“Yay!” I said, excited at the thought of being touched. “This is perfect.”
I slumped even lower, stretching myself a little further, bringing my feet together and placing them gently in his lap. His hands hovered awkwardly for a second before they settled on my ankle, warm and tentative.
“Mmm,” I murmured. “That feels nice…”
He started slowly–thumbs pressing lightly into the arch, working upward. I let out a soft exhale, somewhere between relief and approval. He took that as encouragement and adjusted his grip, firmer now, more confident. I stretched out more, letting my other leg fall open across the cushions, skirt sliding up slightly with the movement. I didn’t bother tugging it back down, and I wondered if he could see my panties.
I kinda hoped so.
If he did, he didn’t say anything, massaging careful circles into the ball of my foot, sliding his thumbs beneath the nylon to work the muscles gently. His fingers brushed the inside of my ankle and I closed my eyes, relaxing into the moment, enjoying his touch through the nylon.
“Wait,” I said suddenly. “This is all wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look away.”
With his head turned, I lifted my skirt and hooked my thumbs under my stockings, peeling them down, past my knee, over my calf, until they came off with a soft stretch at the heel. I balled them loosely and tossed them onto the floor. I pulled my skirt back down, but not much.
“Okay, you can look,” I said, letting my bare feet settle back into his lap. “See? Now you can touch me properly. I just made your job twice as easy, right? I’m very kind, aren’t I?”
He nodded once, looking down, expression unreadable.
“What are you waiting for?” I giggled, flexing my toes again.
His hands resumed their delicate treatment of my feet, and the difference in sensation was immediate. No barrier, no fabric. Just skin to skin. His thumbs pressed firmly into my sole, his fingers curling slightly around the side of my foot. I closed my eyes and tilted back my head, allowing myself a small moan of pleasure. And why not?
It felt fucking great.
I shifted again, just a little. Enough to make the hem of my skirt slide higher, allowing my knees to gently part. Just a little. Just enough for me to feel slutty without making it too obvious. Jason kept going, saying nothing. His fingertips drifted along the arch of my foot, lingering at the heel before sliding up again, slow and measured.
“You’re doing a very good job,” I said, my back arching slightly, involuntarily. I let my legs drift even further apart, as much as I dared; my panties were a little sheer, and the thought of what he could see…
We just stayed like that for a while. Me, lying back on the couch, on display, him, rubbing slow, steady circles into my bare feet with both hands, his attention completely on me, gently working my toes, transfixed. It felt great to have the attention lavished on me.
I felt something under my foot. Not his hands–those were still moving in slow, careful circles–but lower, beneath my heel. I shifted slightly, subtly, barely moving; just enough to press a little more weight into the contact point. Something twitched. I waited a few moments and then adjusted myself again, lazy, like I was just getting more comfortable. My skirt slipped up another inch along my thighs. I moved my other leg too, letting it stretch a little further across the couch, fully occupying his space now, my legs half spread. I pushed my naked foot out to the left and felt it again. There was no mistaking it this time.
He was hard.
As fuck.
The show was still droning on in the background, something about must-see vacation destinations. But I wasn’t listening. I was lying on my back with my pussy spread, pressing my bare feet against my roommate’s erection through his sweatpants. Fuck. I flexed my toes against his cock, just once, and felt his grip on my ankle tighten.
“Would you like to kiss them a little?” I asked, my eyes still closed, my voice soft with a mix of relaxation and horniness. “I’m going to bed soon. It would be nice if you kissed them goodnight.”
Without waiting for an answer, I opened my eyes and lifted my leg gently to his mouth. For a moment, he looked embarrassed, ashamed even. Like he didn’t know if this was too much for him. His cheeks flushed red, but I simply extended my ankle until my toes were almost in his mouth. He leaned forward and puckered his lips and I pulled my foot away.
“Too slow,” I said, sitting up, smiling. “Maybe next time, huh?”
He laughed under his breath, still red in the face, his eyes flicking to what I know must have been a growing wet patch between my legs. I let him look for a moment longer and then shifted onto my knees, facing him. My foot slid back into his lap, slow and deliberate, the arch resting against the bulge in his sweatpants. I didn’t press, just left it there. Soft. Obvious.
“I can’t believe you got hard from just touching my feet…” I whispered.
His eyes flicked up to mine. He didn’t deny it.
“And you’re still hard now,” I added, watching his chest rise “That’s kind of…pathetic, right? But like…in a hot way, don’t you think?”
He nodded once. Almost nothing. But it was enough.
“How about this?” I said, heart racing, the new power I held increased my confidence. “I give you permission to touch yourself when I leave. But not to cum.”
I watched him for a reaction, and it came in the form of twitch in the front of his sweatpants.
“Understand?”
He blinked. Swallowed. Nodded. “Yes. I can do that.”
“Do you like it when I tell you what to do?”
“Yes. I…I think I do.”
I nodded, standing slowly and fixing my skirt.
“Good. Then do it.”
And with that, I walked out of the room, barefoot and silent.
The beginning started Oh so sensual and suggestive. Then went to horny and teasing. The very last part really dived fully into Dom behavior and was a perfect escalation. Just perfect can't wait for more.
So good! I love the slow tease!