"It's good to see you, Ms. Cox," Fr. Gene Simon said on a rainy Spring morning. "Farnie told me you were. . .a remarkable young woman."
Susanna Cox sat primly across from the other side of a large desk. Fr. Simon was a dignified man in his 70's, average height and build, pastor of a blue collar parish in an older neighborhood. "Please, call me Susie. You're very kind, but I'm just an ordinary girl who likes to see the men who give themselves in service of the Church. I'm here to help."
He ran his fingers through his grey crewcut, and they trembled as they went. "It's not very often that someone comes from the Chancery wanting to help me. Farnie says you're a kind lady, gentle, sensitive, and. . .accommodating."
She smiled at his discomfort, and bent over to rest her elbow on the desktop. Her pink blouse was unbuttoned enough for him to see down as far as her cleavage. Winking at him, she said: "The door's shut, Fr. Simon, and we're alone. You know why I'm here, and I want it as much as you do. You're giving me twice my base rate and indicated you wanted something different. How can I help you?"
"Well, I. . .had a. . . couple of fantasies that might be. . .out of the ordinary."
A broader smile. "Out with it Gene. I'm a naughty girl, and you can't shock me."
Chuckling, he said: "That's my line, 'you can't shock me'. Forty five years in the priesthood, and I've heard almost everything in the confessional. Ever since they started face to face confession, I don't know how many times I've had to hide an erection. . ."
"C'mon Gene. You're wasting my time. If you don't want it after all. . ."
Holding up a hand, he swallowed awkwardly and whispered. "I've got a thing for feet. Delicate feet in nylons, so soft and delicately curved. I would love to touch a woman's feet, rub them, stroke them."
"Sounds nice," she purred, "Tell me more."
"I wonder how they would feel around. . .around. . .around. . .my. . .my penis." The last word was barely audible.
Leaning over closer, she whispered. "You want to feel a woman's feet on your dick?"
Taking a nervous gulp of coffee, he nodded his head. "I can hardly stand the thought of it."
She slipped around behind him and slipped off his suit coat. He wore a long sleeved black cleric underneath it, and she removed the white insert and unbuttoned the top two buttons. Deft fingers kneaded tense shoulder muscles, and light perfume found receptive nostrils. "You want to see my feet?" she murmured into his ear almost touching her mouth. Another quivering nod. "All right. You will. There's a nice bulge down under your belt. Do you have a banana in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?"
He chuckled and relaxed a little. Lightly, she kissed his ear and got a tremble in return. A little more work and she moved around to sit on his desk in front of him, slipping off her heels, and hiking the hem of her red print dress.
A look of sheer bliss came over his face as he took one in his hand. Susanna's feet were long and lean, pedicured and painted red, with graceful toes. Stroking it, he worshiped her foot from one end of the arch to the other. She closed her eyes and felt her panties get damp from his attention; she would need something herself if he went on like this too much longer. Lifting her foot, he sucked her big toe, nylon covering and all, into his mouth where his tongue played around her nail.
A shudder and she knew it was time to stop him and make his pleasure the focus. Pulling her foot away, she went down to unbuckle his belt, unzip his fly and gently remove his phallus. It was growing quickly, reaching medium length, over huge hairy testicles. Her hand began it tracery, and she gave the head a quick lick for lubrication before sitting down to caress it between her feet.