Hello dear reader I welcome you to my fantasies. I look forward to reading your comments. I'm not an English speaker, so the text may contain errors. Mea culpa and happy reading.
Louise and her aunt
I've just left the house after another row with Mum. Lately we've been shouting at each other and calling each other names. I don't even know if it was me who decided to leave or her who kicked me out. She's not the model of a loving, cuddly mother. Quite the opposite. For as long as I can remember, she's never shown me any sign of affection. Whoever I am, whatever I do, it's never good enough. Mum thinks I'm ugly and stupid. And yet, boys flock to me.
After passing my High-School Diploma with the Congratulations from the jury, I managed to get into hypokhâgne. It is a very demanding training to integrate the most prestigious schools. As for Dad, he soon got divorced. He's always travelling. I hardly knew him at all, just a message or a present from time to time.
I got off the bus dragging my suitcase with tears in my eyes. Tired, I arrived in front of a beautiful property on the outskirts of Bordeaux. Auntie Jacqueline is the only member of the family with whom I have fond memories. Because of Mum, we haven't seen each other for many years, but we've always kept in touch.
She's now thirty-two. I remember her as a very beautiful woman who took good care of me. I was still young when she moved to Paris to start a career in fashion. She never succeeded in making a name for herself. But she did manage to become a well-known model. I often saw photos of her in fashion magazines. I learned that she married a wealthy local businessman, only to divorce him shortly afterwards. Mum says she only married for the money.
I ring the videophone. The gate opens. The property is just as huge as the house itself. She waits for me with a smile and invites me in. I stand still for a few moments. She's even more beautiful than I remember. She's a tall woman, I'm up to her nose in height. She has a perfect body, light brown hair covering her shoulders, deep blue eyes and a smile that turns my stomach. She takes me in her arms. I can't hold back the tears at this sign of affection. We share a cup of tea in silence. I feel at home with her. I look at her: she's so beautiful. She exudes an irresistible animal magnetism.
"I have to finish an article for a fashion magazine. If you've got any homework to do, don't hesitate. Make yourself at home." says my aunt.
She sits down in front of a large desk and I sit on a opposite desk. I take out my books. When I've finished analysing a text, I look up at my aunt. She's hidden behind her screen. I can see her foot dangling under her desk. I look at it as if hypnotised. Her red-painted toes move gently in her sandal.
This vision takes me back years. I remember being a little girl playing with my Aunt Jacqueline. She tickled me everywhere and laughed with me. She would stay with me in my room for long hours, playing on a games console. When she wasn't looking at me, I'd come and tickle her feet too. She laughed, wiggling her toes as she continued playing. From time to time, without leaving her screen, she would place her feet against my cheeks, tenderly shaking my head and calling me 'little rascal'.
Later, she would read me a story about a crocodile that bit everyone around it. I used to play at biting her whenever she wasn't looking. She'd push my foot away, so I'd bite it gently. She laughed as she withdrew her foot, then gave it back to me so I could do it again. With her other foot, she stroked my head affectionately while saying "But that crocodile is terrible." I wanted to nibble on her arms or hands, but she would gently push me away with her foot so as not to stop her reading or playing. I liked it, it was the only affectionate gesture I received, the only physical contact from a loving person.
When I was older, in Grandma's garden, she would rest on a deck chair in the shade of the big lime tree. I would join her by sitting at her feet and talking to her, while she continued to read. I talked and she seemed to listen. She would stroke my leg with her foot and I would play with her other foot. That was enough for me. When I talked too much and she wanted to sleep, she'd put her big toe to my lips and say 'Shhh, I want to rest', then she'd suggest we go and play somewhere else. he would turn over on her stomach to sleep. As I didn't see her very often, I didn't want to leave her side. I used to sit on the deck chair at her feet without moving.
Sometimes she'd offer to make a pizza on her feet while she rested. It was a kind of massage where I used the soles of her feet as a base. I would mime putting the tomato sauce all over the foot, then I would place mushrooms, ham and all the ingredients. When the pizza was finished, I pretended to eat it. Most of the time, my aunt was already asleep.
When I was ten, I pointed out to her that she had a pretty nail varnish. She taught me how. She varnished my hands and feet. My mother got angry with me and my aunt. After that, my aunt was happy to put her hands and feet at my disposal so that I could practise.
The memories keep flooding back as I look at my aunt's foot. I feel butterflies in my stomach. I feel like a little girl again. I want to get down on all fours and crawl over to her desk and play with her foot, to feel it caress my cheek.
Tonight, in the living room, after a light meal, we're reminiscing about the past. She laughs, reminding me that I was always at her feet. I feel myself blushing without being able to say anything. I've spent most of the evening looking at her feet, wanting to touch them to see if they're as soft as I remember.
"Have you lost your tongue?" my aunt asks me.
I come to my senses.
"If you like, Auntie, I'll give you a nice foot massage to thank you for your hospitality."
"That's kind of you, Louise, but my feet are dirty and they must be, how shall I put it? Smelly."
"Don't worry about that. I don't mind."
Without waiting for her reply, I sit down on the carpet and look at her. She smiles at me.
"Go ahead, but don't stay long. I'm sleepy."
She grabs her phone and doesn't look at me again. I take off her sandals. It's a direct trip into the past. I'm at her feet and she's on her phone. They are slightly dirty and the smell very bearable. Yes, they are as soft as I remember. They're perfect. I enjoy caressing them, massaging them. I play with his toes.
I feel my lower belly burning up. I have a furious desire to taste them, to kiss them. I remember them tasting a bit like almond cream when I nibbled on them like a crocodile. How I long for her to stroke my cheek with her other foot. I feel so good at her feet. Half an hour later, she takes her foot out of my hand.
"It's late. Be a good girl and put my sandals back on. It's time to go to bed."
She doesn't even look at me, still with her nose in her phone. I take my time putting them back on.
Once I'm in my room, I realise I'm horny. My pussy is all wet. I don't really understand why or how, but I loved being at my aunt's feet. I enjoyed stroking them, playing with her toes like the little girl I was, but with something extra. Thinking back, my hand slipped between my thighs and I made myself come before falling asleep.
The next day, I get up early to go to university. I spend the day thinking about my Aunt Jacqueline. Yesterday I spent an evening without shouting, without reproaches. She was very affectionate towards me. That's something new for me.
There's something else that disturbs me. I also think about her feet. I understand that they take me back to pleasant childhood memories. I don't understand how they could have excited me sexually.
Up until now, I'd had no sexual attraction for anyone. I just pushed away boys who got too close to me. I also have a few girlfriends but no sexual attraction for them. I suppose everything will be back to normal in a few days' time. I'll offer her a few foot massages, and I'll find that my problem will disappear naturally.
When I got back to her place, I found a note on the table: 'Don't wait up for me. I'll be back late'. I want to see her so badly. I imagine being there when she gets back, taking off her shoes and giving her a nice foot massage. To stay awake, I do a lot of studying. Hours go by.
I'm shaken. It's my aunt who wakes me up. I had fallen asleep on my books. She orders me to go to bed. By the time I'd recovered, she'd already left.
The days went by and I became more and more obsessed with her feet, without getting the chance to offer her another massage.
On Friday evening, she was lying on a deckchair beside the pool. She looks stunning, her skin slightly coppery from the sun, her beautiful, delicate hands tapping away on her smartphone, her long legs slender and muscular. I want to run to her feet and cherish them. My mouth goes dry, just the opposite of my sex. I sit down at her feet.
"How was your day, Auntie?"
"Fine and for you?" She answers without even lifting her head to look at me.
"Fine. What can I please you?"
I look at her feet to let her know I'm offering her a massage. She looks at me with that beautiful smile that makes me melt.
"Bring me a glass of Perrier with two ice cubes and a slice of lemon."
No sooner said than done.
"Would you like anything else, Auntie?"
Once again, I look at her feet. I know she sees it. Once again, she smiles at me, taking her time to respond. She moves her feet gently, spreading her toes. She lifts one leg and stretches her foot into a point. Lovely little folds form on the sole of her foot. I'm on pins and needles. I cross my fingers that she'll ask me for a massage.
"No, nothing special. I don't want to bother you. You've probably got work to do."
The answer is like a cold shower.
"You never bother me, Auntie. Besides, I don't have to work tonight."
"A nice glass of ice water, lying in a deckchair basking in the sun. What more could I want?" She replies, continuing to play with her foot in the air.
I stammer and blush.
"If you like, I can give you a foot massage."
"I wouldn't want you to feel obliged to look after your old auntie's feet."
"Auntie Jacqueline, you're not old. You're probably the most beautiful woman I know. It's a pleasure for me to give you a massage."
"If it makes you happy, then go ahead."
I rush over to the foot in the air and grab it with both hands. I can hear my aunt laughing. I love her laugh. She lets me carry all the weight of her leg. My thumbs start to massage her heel. My nose is just a few centimetres from her foot. I love the smell. I resist putting my lips down to taste her skin.
One by one I massage each toe, sliding my fingers between them. I want to suck on them, swallow them. I do my best to get her to ask me to do it again as often as possible.
She snaps me out of my reverie by informing me that she has to go to the toilet. She takes her foot out of my hand. I immediately put on her flip-flops.
While I'm waiting for her to come back, I slip my hand into my crotch and rub my clitoris through the fabric of my trousers. I'm so excited that I feel an orgasm coming on quickly. My aunt's shadow passes behind the bay window. I stop immediately and stand there in frustration.
Jacqueline settles back on the lounger and I immediately take her foot and continue the massage. My aunt asks me if I haven't finished.
"Not unless you want me to stop."
She runs her free foot through my hair to stroke my head.
"Do yourself a favour. Tonight, my feet are only for you. I'm offering them to you."
