Disclaimer: not an English born writer, bear with me
Prologue
Five months ago.
"Prepare your bag! Guess where I'm gonna take you?" The sudden scream ripped through the silence of the house, with Brent, startled by the cry, nearly knocking the newly opened beer bottle out of his hand. The front door wide open, his wife Michelle more than walking seemed to be floating, as she approached him with a smile of pure joy gave her an even more beautiful aura.
"And where are we going?" merely replied Brent in curiosity, before taking a long sip at the Abbaye des Rocs Grand Cru, one of his favorites, a Belgian craft amber beer he'd managed to unearth in a little store specialized in beers from around the world.
"What's the holiday we've been dreaming of since we were married?" Michelle continued with her riddle, hugging him seductively from behind, her firm breasts perfectly clinging to Brent's back.
"Italy?"
"Bingo! Notice came to the office today that this year's world convention will be held in Milan. Five days in early June. And given last year's excellent results, it will be our hotel -- and this means me, your wife -- to represent New Mexico. Now, I just have to decide whether to take my delightful hubby with me as well, or to go off on my own and find out if it's true what they say about Italians."
"And what do they say?" Brent continued the game.
"That they are indefatigable, irresistible flirters and suitors. But I could also take you with me, and let you find out for yourself" Michelle continued, her hand having descended from Brent's chest to his pants. His hard cock, which had immediately stiffened upon hearing those words, was the answer.
1.
Five months later
Even in the chaos of the Santa Fe airport, the sound resonated crisply. "Tac tac tac." Michelle's passing distracted more than one passenger, drawn first by the sound of those heels echoing across the floor, and then by their owner. At 46, Michelle looked several years younger, about 5"8 tall, a lean physique, breasts that didn't go unnoticed, slightly wavy blond hair that reached the middle of her back, a sweet face with clear blue eyes standing out, and a smile that you could sense accompanied her most of the time. Was that enough? No, because, after an initial glance at her face, the gaze of those who passed her could not avoid following her curves. Those who walked behind her were enraptured by the shapes of a butt that inevitably created some bold thoughts; those who approached her, on the other hand, in lingering their attention on her breasts inevitably aimed their gaze at two nipples that, despite the bra, won the battle against the summer dress she was wearing. And then the legs, long, curvaceous, elegant, ending in tapered ankles, the right one embellished with a silver anklet, and two feet which any lover of female extremities would happily pay proper homage. Their beauty was even more highlighted by four toe rings, on both the two long and middle toes, a feminine quirk whose effect was to give Michelle not only an elegant figure, but also added some extreme sensuality and, why not, erotical appeal.
None of those people who crossed Michelle and Brent's path in that moment could have known it, but the passion for the feet was something that over the past year had increased Michelle's awareness of her own femininity. As well as spiced up the couple's sex life. The blonde manager of one of New Mexico's most exclusive boutique hotels still remembered when she had traveled to Austin on a business trip. After a very long and exhausting day of meetings on the marketing strategies to capture more clientele, in the evening she had gone with Rupert, a colleague from New York she had always find amusing and easy to talk to, for a walk on 6th Street, world-famous for its endless array of live music venues of all kinds. At some point, Michelle's attention had been caught by the call of a man leaning out of the window of Pete's Dueling Piano bar: "I would give anything to take those toe rings off one by one with nothing but my mouth," he had shouted to Michelle, smiling ecstatically, and raising a glass in toast. Rupert had looked first at the man then at her with a puzzled and amused look, then blatantly had given a long stare at her feet: "He is right, they are just beautiful" he added in a flirty tone. Michelle just smiled coquettishly.
She knew she had beautiful feet and she had always taken special care of them. But it had been only lately that she had become increasingly aware of the effect that showing them off was causing to other men. And being a happy, open and also quite flirty soul, she discovered how exhibiting her femininity was causing her an erotic thrill. Nothing improper, yet, but once a slightly shorter skirt, another a blouse button left carelessly open that was showing some cleavage, one time a bit of dangling practiced with an almost unconscious air as she sat at a small café table, all this had given Michelle the certainty about how men looked and found her attractive. And so, after her return from Austin, one evening she had found herself telling Brent about the episode and how those words had thrilled her.
"Had you been alone, would you have joined him in that bar?" Brent asked her point-blank.
Michelle had lifted her head from her husband's chest and looked at him in amazement. "What, you would have liked it if I'd let him pick me up?" she replayed in the most possible neutral tone.
"No, no, I was just saying that" Brent merely mumbled, although with a quick glance, it did not escape Michelle how the sweatpants her husband was wearing appeared decidedly tighter. A little while later, when they went to bed Brent mounted her and, with an energy that had been unknown to her in recent times, fucked her for a long time until the two fell asleep exhausted and happy.
"So, would he like to see me fucked by a stranger?" was Michelle's last thought before flying off to Lalaland.
All those episodes -- the stranger's compliment, Rubert's words, and, most importantly, the discovery of Brent's hidden fantasies -- had stayed with her, opening an unexpected breach. A few days later, Michelle had opened her first social account, obviously anonymous, dedicated to her feet. And with the first photos she had posted, came the first enthusiastic messages from strangers who were flooding her with compliments and, of course, trying to sneaking more into her daily life. Instagram and then Tumblr, Feetfinder, Snapchat, Telegram, what at first seemed just a game, now took up more and more of her time, starting with the first messages exchanged when she woke up and ending with the last ones at bedtime, with a sense of excitement that never left her during the day.
And from there to Cash App, PayPal, Wishtender and other apps the step had been short. All that interest had inevitably changed something within her, and since amongst her worldwide admirers there were even some who offered to buy her underwear, stockings, shoes, someone had even ventured to provide her with some sex toys, why not take advantage of her sexy feet to earn something?
The result was that in the last few months her lingerie's wardrobe had increased -- with the adding of a couple of toys as well --, she had interacted with hundreds of strangers and with some of them she had connected so well that they had become part of her daily conversations. Being a physical woman, but even more attracted by brilliant and intellectual minds, she had masturbated by reading messages or listening to audios from people she knew virtually nothing about, but that with their words and descriptions were able to enter her mind. And, what she considered the icing on the cake, sharing all this with Brent had revitalized their sex life. If Michelle got off on playing virtually with men from all over the world, Brent liked to imagine more and more his wife being first courted and then fucked by a stranger or more. So that their pillow talk now seemed ready to turn from a mere fantasy mainly used to amplify the power of their orgasms, into something real. And the scenery hinted by Michelle that in Italy they would finally be able to take that final step to become an open couple, had made the anticipation for the trip endless.
"What do you think, will I find a nice cock in Milan, capable of satisfying me?" Michelle had provoked Brent the night before their departure, as she knelt between her husband's legs and sucked his cock with greed and passion. She almost had not had time to finish the sentence, when the first blast of cum had flooded her face.
2.
It was going to be a long journey, flying from Santa Fe to Atlanta and from there to London and then to Milan. While this was Brent's first flight outside the United States, Michelle had already been once to England and once to France, but Italy represented for both a dream come true. And so, to the five days of the official trip, the couple had added another week so to be able to explore places hitherto seen only in photographs or on television.
After checking-in, as they were in line to face security, Brent left her for a moment. "I need to go to the toilet, go ahead and I'll catch you up," he had told her. Michelle stayed in the line, being at some point distracted by the man in front of her, who had unexpectedly seen a friend and greeted him from far away, before the other disappeared.
"The world can be small, sometimes, and it is neat to run into people we know in unexpected places", was her thought spoken aloud.
The man had heard her, turned around and flashed her a friendly, open smile. And so, advancing slowly toward the security checkpoint, they started talking about their planned trip and their lives. Gary, that was his name, worked in the fashion industry, he managed several brands and traveled frequently from place to place in the United States and beyond to attend collection launches or follow advertising campaigns. She told him about her work at the hotel, a place where he had stayed several times in the past. "And now I'll have one more reason to go back there," he winked at her.
Then suddenly, staring at her Gary blew it out: "Wow, you have beautiful eyes." Her cheeks red from a little embarrassment, Michelle thanked him and smiled, and from that moment their dialogue became more intimate, with even some open flirting. Until -- she did not know where it had come from, but she was curious to find someone real who had a foot fetish -- Michelle looked at Gary straight in the eyes and boldly asked him: "What do you think about women feet?".
She would never forget Gary's puzzled and funny face. "I was never interested in feet" he quickly answered. In those few seconds Michelle felt pretty dumb. "Sorry, it was a chat I was having recently with my husband about foot fetish and I was just curios..." she tried to recover, but before she could continue, Gary added: "I am not into certain body parts or certain appearances. To me, it is all about energy, and the vibe you get with someone". Then, after a few seconds of silence: "It's a pity that you are married".
Michelle smiled and, turning a little, pointed to Brent, who had come out of the toilets and was standing in the queue a few meters behind. "There is the guilty one" she laughed.
