Off Limits Roommate Pt 02

Emili, Shiann and I enjoyed a nice homecooked meal sitting on the sectional couch, watching TV. Emili had gotten off work right at dinner time and she was famished. Pork chops with rice was Emili's favorite, so I had them ready when she'd gotten home. As always, we watched TV while we ate.

Shiann hadn't said anything about the lotion, so I was grateful. She could royally fuck me over by bringing that up to her older sister. And the spit on her socks? Maybe she really had just figured the socks got wet on the counter, like I'd said.

Dinner was finished and I took my plate and Emili's and headed for the kitchen. As I rounded past Shiann, she held her plate towards me to take. I hesitated for a second and looked to Emili, who was engrossed in the TV show. When my eyes drifted back to Shiann, she nudged her plate forward and flashed a smile. Was it a devious smile? Or a polite smile? Either way, I muttered out, "Let me grab that, too." I may have been overanalyzing the situation, but I figured just grabbing her plate like it was an unspoken understanding, like I owed it to her for covering for me, would probably raise some questions with my fiancée.

"Thank you, Samuel." Of course, Shiann was the only one in the world, besides my parents, who called me Samuel. Everyone called me Sam. Emili called me Sammy, affectionately. But for Shiann, for some reason it was Samuel. It had always seemed like a nod of respect for taking her in, but for some reason, it felt different in this context. Like she had some sort of authority over me.

After dinner, Shiann went back to her room and played her music too loudly. As always, Emili hit the wall and yelled for her to turn it down. I tended to just let her play it as loud as she wanted. Emili always said it was because I was a pushover. Maybe it was true, but it didn't bother me enough to tell her to turn it down, except on rare occasions where I was focusing on something or had a headache. She never turned it down much when I asked, but I never asked again. Okay, I was a pushover.

As we watched TV, Emili plopped her feet onto my lap. I smiled at her and she smiled back. She knew I loved feet, but as I've stated, it never really ventured past a simple foot rub. When I was done rubbing, the feet went away. Had I expressed a few times that I'd like the foot rubs to venture into a more sexual nature? Probably. But as I've stated, I'm a pushover. I continued rubbing Emili's feet. Her's were wide, a little chubby, which led to meaty soles. They were probably some of my favorite feet.

Shiann's though, in the short glimpses I'd seen as she went barefoot through the house on occasion, were probably a distant second place. Maybe not so distant, I thought, as I remembered the scent that wafted from her tiny socks earlier that day. A close second. I felt myself getting hard as I thought about Shiann's sock, pressed into my nose. Guilt began to flood over me, especially when I began to picture her small, slender feet. Her smooth soles and her... My cock touched Emili's foot.

For a second I thought maybe, just maybe, she would press her toes against it. I imagined her pushing her toes up the legs of my shorts. But it didn't happen. Instead, Shiann's door opened and she walked past us into the kitchen. She looked at me and smiled. Again, I wondered if there was something devilish in her smile but decided that, no, she was just smiling like a roommate would smile at another. Besides, these foot rubs happened almost daily, so there was nothing out of the ordinary. "Let's go to bed, I'm so tired."

Emili's words broke me out of my trance. "Yeah." We got up and went to bed. My cock, for the second time today, went soft in disappointment.

* * * * *

Emili fell asleep early. I was, of course, restless. I rolled out of bed, slowly shutting the door as I went down the hallway and into the living room. Shiann was up, sitting at the edge of the couch in the dark. The TV was on, some nurse show, but she was curled up into the corner of the couch, knees pulled up, typing away on her phone. She barely looked up from her phone as I came in. I plopped down on the couch and reached for the remote to change the channel.

"I'm watching this," she lazily stated while barely glancing up at me. I rolled my eyes, then looked back at her. She was wearing a crop-top and short shorts. Her skinny, pale legs reflected the light off the TV. I could see she was wearing a pair of small, pink socks. Wait, were those the socks from the bathroom earlier?

"Sorry. I thought you were out with your friend." I sat back against the backrest of the couch and resigned to my fate of nurse-show. I'd sat on the opposite side of the sectional, but in the middle of the couch. We had some distance from each other, until she spread her legs out. Now, even though her legs were short, they were only about a foot and a half from me.

"I came back, duh. Besides, I figured you'd be in the bathroom with the lotion by now," she snickered.

My face was instantly red with embarrassment. "Would you drop it? It's not funny. You walked in on us earlier this morning and we were in the... middle of it. She was at work all day."

She was leaning forward now, and I could see her face just barely in the reflected light of the TV. Was she... smiling again? Something happened on the TV and for a brief second, her face was lit up. Yep, she was smiling. And it was definitely devilish. "And my socks were just sitting there on the bathroom counter..." I froze. I tried to stammer out a response, but she started instead. "I was testing you, Samuel. I left my socks out on purpose." She sat back, grinning. I could see her face, clear as day now. She had a smug look of superiority.

"I've done it before too, left my so and my socks always end up back in my room, mysteriously." She let the word 'mysteriously' trail off like she was a goddamn Scooby Doo villain. She laughed, I could hear the bite in her tone. "Here's the thing Samuel, I've known about your little fetish for a while." She pulled her feet back slowly, across the cushions of the couch. "My would-be boss didn't have a foot fetish, either. I just needed confirmation that you were a little foot freak."

I couldn't process what was going on. Was this a dream? Was I dreaming? "Shi, I don't know what you're talking about." There it was, the least convincing thing I'd ever said. I felt a red hot pulse of embarrassment welling inside of me. It took me a few seconds to realize, but I was staring at her feet.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, you don't?" Suddenly, she was scooting down the couch. She scooted the remaining few feet and lifted her leg. Her socked foot was inches from my nose and the intoxicating scent was penetrating my nostrils. I tried moving away, I did, but not a muscle in my body could move. "Prove it. Prove that you aren't a foot boy." I didn't know how to prove it, but it certainly wasn't by growing a massive erection. I suddenly worried that Emili might wake up and see this and a pit grew in my stomach. A pink sock enveloped my vision as I suddenly could see nothing else, her toes were touching my forehead and her tiny arch pressed into my nose.

"That's what I thought." She giggled. "Now, as much as I love my sister, I have to admit, it's fun knowing you can't resist this."

"Did Emili... tell you?" It was the only thing I could think of. Emili had told her, there's no way I was this obvious.

"No, you're just, like, super obvious. Now, shut up and sniff. I have some stuff I want to talk to you about, Samuel." Had I known then what would come of this situation I found myself in, I would have stayed in bed...