This is the concluding part of the work 'Love is Not Blind.' While you could read this as a stand-alone story, for a better understanding and appreciation of this tale, it is recommended that you read the first part.
All characters involved in sexual activities in this story are over 21 years of age.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is just coincidental.
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The story so far:
Reshmi a 26-year-old woman moves into a new apartment and meets her 27-year-old neighbour, Nayan, who has beautiful hazel green eyes, only to discover that he is blind. Nayan's other senses are keenly honed, and with the help of modern technology, he is fairly independent and lives a near-normal life. They become good friends, fall in love, lose their virginity to each other, and manage to convince their respective families that they can marry and lead a happy life together. Now read on...
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A Tale for the Grandchildren
"My feet are killing me Nayan," I said, as we settled down in our seats and fastened our seat belts. Then I linked my arm to his and laid my head on his shoulder.
He nuzzled my neck affectionately. "I really don't know why you had to wear these stiletto heels for the flight. You should have listened to your mom and worn something more comfortable."
"I left these behind the last time I was home. I want to get used to walking in them."
"You planning to walk the ramp anytime?" he asked mischievously.
"Not the ramp, stupid, the aisle, with you. We are getting married soon, remember? I am going to wear stilettos for the reception. We also need to practice some steps, for we are going to dance too." I said as I punched his arm playfully.
He put his arm around me, pulled me closer to him, and whispered. "Just hang on till we get home. I will give you an awesome foot massage. You will feel wonderful after that. And there will be lots more as we practice."
"I caught our reflection in the glass doors at the airport, Nayan, do you know, we really look awesome together?"
"When we get home, we will stand in front of the mirror and you must describe how we look very vividly to me. Then when you practice your walk, I will rehearse with you."
I kissed his cheek softly as the aircraft started to taxi.
"Be careful when you step on the escalator with your high heels," he cautioned as we exited the aircraft.
"We'll take the stairs," I said.
It took us another hour to reach home. We entered, wheeled our bags in, and then we were in each other's arms, kissing. Then he stopped.
"You have 5 seconds to take off your high heels so that I can continue to kiss you," he said.
We fell on the couch, arms in a tangle, lips glued together, and our tongues probing deep into each other's mouth.
"Come, let's have a quick shower together," he said.
"Nayan, it has to be very quick, you can't end up doing what you always do in the shower, my feet are hurting."
"Quickie it will be, I promised you a foot massage. Remember?"
We were laughing as we soaped each other and he tried to enter me. "I told you, no fooling around, I can hardly stand on my feet."
He picked me up, and my legs went around him automatically. "You crazy, horny bull, I knew you would do this to me," I muttered.
We started moving to a rhythm but in a couple of minutes, we stopped. "We are having fun fooling around like this," he laughed. "Neither of us is going to come at this rate. So let's get on with your massage."
We dressed. "Just wear something that comes up to your knees, the foot massage will be from the tip of your toes to your calf muscles," he said.
He got a large bowl of hot water and kept it on the floor towards one end of the couch. Then he picked up a bottle of hydrating gel, a couple of hand towels and a large bath towel. He sat down at the end of the couch, spread out the towel on his lap, and made me lie down so that my feet rested on it.
He dipped the two small towels in hot water and wrapped my feet in them. As he applied some pressure, the heat from the water started to permeate my feet and ankles, and suddenly the pain in them started to become a mild ache. He kept doing this for a few minutes more, and as the towels cooled, he dipped the towels in the hot water again and repeated the exercise, this time wrapping my ankles and calves. Now I started to breathe deeply.
"Your breathing tells me that you are feeling good," he said.
"Honey, you just have to look my way, even a sidelong glance and I feel good," I said, and even as I realised what I said, we burst out laughing.
"Why do I say these stupid things?" I asked him.
"They are not stupid, they are compliments. You make me feel like I can really see," he said, as he removed the towels and then lifted my left foot up. Supporting the heel with his left palm, he gently stroked my toes. Then he brought his lips down and started to kiss them, starting with my little toe.
My leg flexed in a reflex action. "Nayan, you supposed to give me a massage or an orgasm?" I asked, laughing.
"Massages do tend to have some pleasant side effects, you know. Now focus all your attention on your feet, not on the region between your legs," he gently chided, with that sweet grin of his.
His kisses moved down the soles of my feet. I thought they will tickle, but they just seemed so sensuous and full of love. Then his lips came to my heel and then he gently bit above my Achilles tendon, then his teeth gently scraped my skin along the tendon right up to my calf. Yet the more he administered to my feet, the wetter my pussy became. I started to wriggle and squirm.
He turned his attention to my other leg. I saw that half-smile on his face and I knew that he knew what he was doing to me. My green-eyed devil was enjoying all this, so I decided to do likewise.
All too soon, his lips completed their journey from toe to calf. He placed my leg gently back on his lap and bent down to pick up the gel.
I expected him to pour the gel on my feet, but he surprised me again. He rubbed some gel on his fingers and then started to massage my toes, transferring the gel from his fingers to them and then rubbing it in. He bent my toe, straightened it, pulled it, twisted it, first this way then that and after he had finished with all five, he put his fingers through the gaps between them and moved them back and forth.
Then he gripped one foot, the flat of his palm on my soles and the fingers, between my toes and pressing down on the upper bridge. His other hand gripped my heel and tendon, and I felt that same tight squeeze. As the pressure started to increase, I felt the pain fade away, to be replaced by a different kind of ache that had its epicentre elsewhere. I couldn't suppress a moan.
Then he was using his thumbs on the ball of my foot, pushing downwards and in a circular motion as his fingers pressed down on the top surface. They alternately stretched my muscles and compressed them, moving slowly down to the instep and then on to the heel. A kind of heat was being generated all over my body, and I knew some acupressure techniques did just this.
Soon he was firmly massaging my ankle, moving up my calf, pausing once in a while to pour out some gel on to his fingers and palm.
The cycle started all over again with my other foot, even as I realised that the foot he had just finished with felt light and mushy, the pain had vanished. Yet I ached, rather ached for him, even more.
He anchored both my feet to his lap with his left hand and extended his right hand towards me. "Grab my hand with both of yours," he said.
He pulled me towards him. I slid forward on my buttocks, folding my knees. I knew what he wanted, so I released his hand, and flung my arms around his neck and kissed him.
Our tongues were lovers by themselves and they knew how to dance to each other's tunes. They triggered extremely erotic sensations in wave after wave.
We had to come up for air, so we did. He wrapped my feet with the towel on his lap and slipped out of the sofa. "Now you stay right here for a moment, I will come and get you soon," he whispered.
He came back with a pair of socks that he pulled on to my feet. "This will keep your feet hydrated for a while and not mess up the sheets," he said. Then he felt for my knees and my shoulders, picked me up in his arms and carefully took me to the bedroom and put me on the bed. I pulled him down to me.
We lay together, nibbling each other's ears, biting each other's cheeks, nuzzling noses.
"I have an amazing story to tell my grandchildren, honey," I said. "I am going to tell them that I had this amazing boyfriend who used to give me awesome foot massages."
"You used the word 'had,' I am not liking the sound of that."
"Exactly! So when they ask me what happened to him, I am going to grab you, kiss you in front of them and tell them that I married him."
He laughed. "Imagine them telling their parents that they saw grandma kiss grandpa."
Then he said, "Reshmi, I just remembered, we haven't called both the families to let them know we have reached home safely."
"Nayan darling, I texted them when we were in the lift, I also called up Vimala last evening and told her to keep our dinner ready for us today and the condoms are in the drawer on your side of the bed."
He rolled me over to the other side. "Now they are on your side. I have worked hard today, so now you undress, then undress me, then roll the condom on and..."
I shut him up with a kiss, then proceeded to do all that he wanted. But when I came to the condom part, a wacky idea flashed in my brain. I started caressing his penis with the back of my left hand as I used my right to slip off my socks. Then I made room for myself to stretch out my legs and took his hard cock that was pointing towards the ceiling between my soles.
He let out a low whistle. "Looks like the massage was very effective!"
I experimented with his three degrees of freedom. "Did you feel this when our aircraft came in for a touchdown, Nayan? Did it not pitch like this? And then yawed? Then it rolled a bit, like this?" I asked him as I used my feet on his cock to simulate those motions.
"You dodo, you will make it airsick and it will throw up all over you."
"You want me to roll an airsickness bag over it? I have one handy."
"Noooo..."
"No to what? The aerobatics or the bag?" I asked as I changed the tempo of the strokes.