The Empowerment of Cheri
"Thomas, I really think you should tell me. You always change the subject, but not this time. You know I only want to give you the wildest sexual experiences that I can."
"I know, but it's difficult. I mean, you asked me about my deepest, darkest sexual desires. There are reasons why they're kept where they are."
As usual, I am the driver tonight. My wife Cheri and I are in the car, heading home after a night out. I change lanes and then turn right as we continue our line of conversation from the restaurant. Billy Joel is playing on the radio, just loud enough to hear, but soft enough so that we can talk over it.
"Yeah, I know it's difficult to admit what really turns you on. But I want to know." She gestures with her hand and continues, "You've been dodging this for years, man. How can I make it happen for you if I don't even know what it is?"
We have been married for five years now and Cheri and I have what I would consider a 'Good' sex life. We even do roleplay from time to time. However, I am 13 years older than my wife and there are things that I carry with me that I haven't ever mentioned to her. Thus far, I have been keeping them to myself.
I don't want to be laughed at and I certainly don't want to make her upset.
She hasn't really considered the difficulty involved in getting me to talk about it. She also hasn't considered the ramifications that knowing, and then fulfilling my innermost desires might have.
She takes my hand in hers and gently squeezes. "I know." She admits, "Things are good right now, but I want them to be awesome! All I want to do is please you."
We got all dressed up tonight. And I for one can't wait to get undressed. I want a piece of her so bad right now I can taste it. Plus, her nylons have been driving me crazy all night.
She looks up at me and says, "Thomas, you know I just want to make you happy, right?"
"Yeah." I nod. "It's just hard for me to say, you know? I mean, I've buried them for a long while now. At least one of them goes all the way back to when I started dating."
"Tell me. I want to know." She sees my hesitation, but continues to poke at me. This time she's obviously not going to let it go.
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, I finally muster a few words, "Okay, I'll tell you. Um...Cheri? You know how I love it when you wear nylons for me?"
"Yeah, of course. I bought quite a few of them." She shrugs, "Plus, you know I love wearing them anyway."
"Well, I want to worship your feet while you wear them."
"Worshipping my feet? What do you mean? Like kissing them?"
"I mean...massaging them, kissing them, rubbing them on my face- all of that. But not only that- I want you to tell me to do it."
"Sure! We can go shopping tomorrow and I can get some really sexy ones! Garter belts and all that!" She smiles at me and continues, "It'll be fun!"
We continue down the street. The streetlights brighten the darkness in the car as we drive beneath them. I glance down and see the brown of her pantyhose for a moment.
"Well, I'm not done actually. What I really want is to smell your nyloned feet, too."
Then she pauses for a moment as if contemplating something. "You want to smell my feet? I'm not sure how I feel about that." She shrugs again and places her hand reassuringly on my shoulder.
"I guess if smelling my nyloned feet would turn you on, we can try it. I mean, we should do it at least once, right? How will we know what it's like if we don't?"
"Thank you for not laughing at me. A lot of women freak out when they find out that their 'Man' has a foot fetish and wants to smell their feet."
Then, I speak up again. "There is another one, actually. This one's even harder for me to say." I take a deep breath.
"Really? Well, you have to tell me, Thomas," she says as she gently strokes my arm. "How can your fantasies ever become reality if you keep them to yourself?"
I nod, but I still don't respond.
