I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing, to be honest. Ever since my partner had confessed her love for all things feet, I was obliged to accommodate.
My name is Mariah. I am a successful attorney with a reputable firm, practicing criminal law. Most women would say that I am attractive, although I would beg to differ. I was never one to toot my own horn, as it were. I am twenty-eight, tall, at five-foot-ten, and sport a slender, athletic body.
My breasts aren't overly large, but Susan, my partner of four years, finds them more than adequate. My hair is shoulder length, and professionally styled.
Susan owns her own business, struggling though it may be, I give her credit for trying, considering the world economy, at the moment. She was the one who caught my eye, one evening at a local lesbian club.
My partner is not quite as tall as me, at only five foot six. She has stunning blonde hair that cascades almost to her butt, and a smile that simply lights up any room. Unlike myself, she is stunningly beautiful.
Our sex life hadn't been anything to write home about, but it was certainly alive. As busy as I was, we were lucky to make love more than twice a week. It was always good, and we were both careful to always reciprocate when it came to satisfaction.
All was going well, or so I thought, when I arrived home three hours earlier than normal. This was a serious break in my routine, as I never, ever came home early. I thought it would be fun to sweep in on her and make love in the afternoon when we both weren't so tired.
So, it was with a certain degree of shock when I discovered Susan, completely naked and thoroughly engrossed in her computer. She was wearing headphones, so it was easy enough for me to sneak up on her from behind. What I saw on the screen was odd.
When I fully expected to find a video running with two women making love, what I saw instead was a lovely blonde with a brutal pixie licking the soles of a rather Rubenesque brunette. I had to do a double-take to be certain of what I saw.
It was then that I noticed that Susan had what appeared to be a vibrating egg inside her, and was running her thumb up and down the wired control, the buzzing growing louder and softer.
Torn between a quiet retreat and a full-on assault, I chose the latter. How I wish I hadn't. When I tapped Susan gently on the shoulder, she flew out of the chair, spinning to find me in my business suit. The stark contrast between her nakedness and my formal attire must have been comical, to anyone but her.
Of course, as soon as she stood, the vibrating egg plopped out of her, landing on the hardwood floor, dancing about as it continued to buzz. Her eyes were so wide that I swore they might actually pop out of their sockets.
"Susan?" I asked, as gently as my current state of shock allowed.
She bent down retrieving the egg and shut it off, along with the video, then seemed to grasp at her mouth for a moment. Only then did she turn back to face me. "Mari? I..." She stammered, a line of drool finding its way out of the corner of her mouth.
"Did you have something in your mouth, as well?" I questioned.
Her hands behind her, she looked to the ceiling in frustration and then brought her hands in front of her, opening the right one. Inside, a rather wet-looking sock unfurled.
"Is that mine?" I asked, knowing full well that it was. I recognized it as one of the anklets I wore to work out, and by the color the one I had worn the day before.
"Please, Marion. Let me explain." She begged, attempting to hand the sock to me. I held it for a moment, but realizing how wet it was, I immediately dropped it.
"I don't think there's too much to explain here. You have a foot fetish, don't you?" I wasn't entirely naïve. I knew full well what fetishes were, but had always thought of them as unhealthy compulsions. That was before the love of my life revealed hers, however unwillingly.
"You must think I'm weird, or something." Susan whimpered, flouncing down on our bed, ashamed. She buried her face in her hands.
"I have to admit that it seems a little odd to have my dirty sock in your mouth, babe," I admitted. "I hope you don't want me to kiss you, at least not until after you brush your teeth or something."
Susan started bawling at that point, and I felt like a total heel. Who was I to judge what other people found arousing? It was just a shock coming from my, seemingly strait-laced girlfriend. "It's okay, Sue, baby. I'm not upset. I'm just a little taken aback is all."
"You're not mad?" Susan asked, finally lifting her face out of her hands.
"No. Not at all. I suppose it's a hell of a lot better than finding you in bed with another woman." I managed, in poor taste I might add.
"I should have told you about this thing with me a long time ago." Susan sighed, grabbing my moist sock from the floor and dropping it into the dirty clothes hamper.
"How long has this, I mean, how long have women's feet..." Awkwardly I ran out of words.
"How long have I had a foot fetish? Since I was eighteen." She paused to wait for my reaction.
"Should I ask how that even happened?" I sat next to her on the bed, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her on the cheek. I still felt odd with her being completely naked, but she didn't seem to mind.
"It was a party. Me and three other girls were having a sort of a get together." Susan went on, glancing my way. "We were a little hammered, so everyone just sort of fell asleep on the living room floor, you know. Wendy, this one girl I knew, ended up with her feet near my face." Susan got nervous all of a sudden and stopped.
"Go on, honey. It's alright. I want to know." I insisted.
"Well, It was early and I had woken up before everyone else. Wendy's feet were like right in my face, and I could smell them."
"Eeew." I scrunched up my nose.
"No, it wasn't like that. If you get to understand this thing with me, you'll know why." Susan looked me in the eye before continuing. "The smell, it was a mix of like apples, and grass with just the slightest hint of vinegar."
