The next day my mind was occupied by what happened the night before with Megan. I had gotten my first foot job, and the girl who gave it to me loved having her beautiful feet worshiped. I wanted to see her again that day (and everyday), but I was afraid to immediately call her up; it might seem too eager and make her feel rushed and uncomfortable. I decided to wait until Friday, thinking that a was a reasonable amount of time.
All week I tried to think of something that would be a good 'date'. I had very little experience with girls, and I was racking my brain trying to think of a good idea. I didn't want to go to a restaurant or anything because I was afraid of awkward silences followed by forced conversation. Maybe just going for coffee or something quick might work, but I wanted to do something at least a little romantic. I really (ok, really really really) liked Megan, and I wanted to make a good impression. I came up with an idea and sent her this text message, 'I'm going to stay in and maybe cook something Friday night. You're welcome to come by if you're available.'
I had a feeling of dread immediately after I sent the message. I kept reading it over, and second-guessed everything. Maybe I should have been more expressive, after all what we did last weekend was sexual and there was no reason for me to be so polite. I should have been more affectionate, or maybe made a sexy joke or something.
In a few minutes I received her reply, 'Yeah Friday night is great! I love a home cooked meal! Is there anything I should bring?'
I let out a sigh of relief and responded back that she could bring some wine if she felt like it, and that I was going to start cooking around 5. I thought that cooking together would be a good 'date'. It would definitely be better than sitting in a restaurant trying to think of things to say. And Megan would already be at my place, so maybe it would be easier to have fun with her feet again.
On Friday I spent the entire day as a nervous wreck. I was afraid that I would be awkward and blow my chance with Megan. I thought of a million things that could go wrong, and my stomach was in knots. I realized that not only would I have to try and act cool (something that doesn't come easy to me), but that I would also have to cook dinner and probably direct Megan around the kitchen. So many bad things could happen: I might be too bossy, or burn the chicken, or over season it, or maybe I would concentrate too much on cooking and ignore Megan altogether. I was even stressing over how I should greet her: should I kiss her, or hug her, or do both? Simply shaking her hand would be way too formal, and I couldn't decide what to do.
I went surfing that afternoon and tried to clear my head, but I was still stressing over Megan coming over the entire time. I knew it wasn't healthy being so preoccupied about someone, but I couldn't help myself. I came home and had a quick rinse in the shower to get rid of the salt water, and then just kept checking the time until it was 5 o'clock. When it finally rolled around I had a huge feeling of apprehension, and my stomach was still in knots when Megan knocked on the door.
She arrived with a bottle of wine and was wearing a light blue dress cut just low enough to see the beginnings of cleavage, and went down to just above her knees. I marveled at her perky tits, and her beautiful skin. Looking down I saw she was wearing sandals, exposing her perfect unblemished feet. Her toes were painted dark blue and she had on a thin silver ankle bracelet. Even though it was simple, the dress clung to all her curves and she looked sexy like always.
I could tell Megan was nervous right when she walked in. I was nervous too, but that was pretty much my default disposition. It sort of threw me off, because prior to this Megan had always seemed so confident and relaxed. She gave me a timid smile and looked uncomfortable when we made eye contact.
I didn't know what to do, so I just sat on the couch and Megan joined me. I'm not really sure why, but it felt like there was this huge elephant in the room and no one wanted to say anything about it. The tension must have been bothering me, and the first thing I said was, "Megan, I couldn't stop thinking about your feet all week."
Megan let out a little sigh of relief, and she perked up and smiled and said, "I had a great time last weekend! And I'm really glad you invited me over." She crossed her legs toward me and ran her hand down her upper thigh.
The mood was different now, and I felt much more comfortable. I moved my eyes down Megan's toned legs, one crossed over the other, and to her feet. Her sandal was dangling off her foot, and she was slowly twitching it back and forth with her big toe. Her arch looked so sexy getting wrinkled, and then flexed, and then twirled around. This seemingly innocuous movement only went on for a few moments, but her foot was driving me crazy and my cock was beginning to get hard.
I think Megan could read my mind (or maybe just noticed that I was pretty much drooling), and she giggled and slowly took off her sandals and placed her feet on my lap. She began clenching and unclenching her toes, inviting me to worship her feet. I took the invitation and put her foot into my hands and brought it to my lips. I started at her heel, and moving up gently kissed her entire sole. Her foot was so delicate and soft, and I couldn't help but caress it and kiss it lovingly. I glanced at Megan and she had a huge smile on her face.
I started sucking on Megan's toes, moving from her big toe and putting all her little toes in my mouth, and licking between each toe with my tongue. Sometimes she would scrunch her toes and squeeze my tongue between her toes and sole, or she would spread her toes so I could lick every possible inch of them.
