Me too, now that we're both good with it I'm really glad we did that.
Really?
Yes. I've been thinking about something like that for a while now, so it's great that we did and won't be uncomfortable with each other.
We pulled into the lot and Tracy dropped me off at my car. I made a weak joke about still being able to smell her foot from where it rubbed on my nose and she laughed a little, asking if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I answered that it was definitely good and told her I'd see her tomorrow morning.
The next morning she got on the train, looking great as usual, and wearing the same brown boots, this time with brown stockings and a mustard colored skirt and top. We said good morning, talked about everything except what we were both thinking about, until she said "so... about yesterday..." I had a feeling that she was feeling weird about it after having time to sleep on it and my heart dropped. We had become an unlikely couple of friends and above all I didn't want that to change.I told her that yesterday was unexpected, but a pleasant surprise. She responded "really? I thought for sure you were just being nice about it." I assured her that I really did enjoy it, and told her I was worried that she had a change of heart after having time to think it over. She laughed, telling me that there's no way she would rethink a free foot massage, and we both relaxed.
I told her I would be glad to give her one any time she wanted, hoping that I wasn't pushing my luck. She gave me a funny look and said "Really? I would love that. I promise I won't rub my feet on your face again." Well that was my favorite part of the encounter, and I asked her why not. She turned a little red, admitting that she smelled her boots when she got home and said "My feet didn't exactly smell pleasant." I disagreed, and told her they smelled fantastic to me. I was worried that maybe I had freaked her out when I turned my head to get her foot on my face. She laughed, telling me that it surprised her, but the air blowing between her toes felt nice so she just went along. I was relieved that she was ok with it and I let her know that I hoped she wouldn't mind if it happened again. She was surprised, thinking that it was just an "in the moment" kind of thing, but now she was finally starting to understand that I really did like that her feet were very sweaty, and loved the feeling and smell when they were pressed to my face. We got to the city and got off the train. As we were about to go to our separate subways, I blurted out that I meant what I said, and would gladly repeat what we did any time. She looked back over her shoulder and smiled, saying she would take me up on that.
Thankfully things went back to normal. We rode in together most days, and had our same friendly, semi-flirty conversations, and enjoyed each other's company. Tracy had decided to put herself out there again, and I learned more than I ever wanted to know about the lesbian dating scene. Her family and friends from home were fine with her being gay, but didn't want to hear about it much, and she didn't hang out much with people from work, so I became the one she talked to. It was about this time we both realized that despite all the flirting, we were both happy to admit we were in the friend zone. I was her version of a straight woman's gay male friend. There was an attraction, a little more closeness and intimacy than there should be, a very good friendship, and the understanding that nothing more would come of it.
The "incident" as we jokingly called it came up in conversation a few times, mostly because I gave her a hard time about her wearing those same boots the day after she thought they smelled so bad, but we didn't really talk about it until a couple of weeks later when Tracy asked if I was serious when I said that I would repeat it whenever she wanted. Of course I answered yes, and she said she was thinking she might want to take me up on it again. She had started working out after work, kind of overdid it the day before, and her feet and ankles were already killing her on the way into work. I told her I'd be glad to hang out and wait for her after work and her face just lit up.
We rode back to her train station together after work. She usually wore bright clothes and shoes with block heels, but today was uncharacteristically dark; black bodysuit, skirt, and stockings, with black suede ankle boots that had a flat heel and fringe on the ankle. I commented on it and was told that she wasn't allowed to wear sneakers at her job, so those boots were the most comfortable shoes she had that were suitable for work with her ankle hurting.
We got to her car and drove to the back of the lot again. This time she slid closer at the start and rested her feet on my left leg. I took off her right boot and started rubbing her foot, but she asked me to take them both off. I said sure and started pulling off her left boot. I rested her right foot back on my leg, but she lifted it back up and put it on my chest saying ""is this ok?" Of course it was ok. As I rubbed her left foot, I felt the right one moving around on my chest, pressing in when I squeezed her foot or hit a sore spot, pulling back a little when I lightened up, but slowly sliding up the whole time. I looked up at her when I felt her toes touching my collarbone and there she was, biting her bottom lip. I asked what she was thinking about, and she answered nothing in particular. I knew that wasn't true, so I told her that if she was wondering if I would be willing to breathe through her toes again the answer was yes. I was just hoping that would put the idea in her head. Maybe it did or maybe that was what she was thinking about, but almost immediately she pressed the ball of her foot to my mouth with her toes wrapped around my nose. I inhaled deeply, smiled, and looked up to see her smiling back.
