Friday Night Professional Occasion
Part I
My husband's professional organization was holding a catered occasion with a guest speaker on a Friday night, and we felt obligated to attend. When I set out my clothing for the evening, I couldn't decide what shoes to wear, so I asked my husband to pick out a pair while I showered. I hopped in the tub and scrubbed up quickly. I knew my husband's favorite shoes were open-toed slides, so I sat down to beautify my feet.
I'd already removed all my polish that morning, so I started by rubbing cream into my toenails and cuticles. Then I picked up my foot brush and tea tree oil soap and started lathering the brush. When the brush was full of thick, soapy froth, I started scrubbing my feet, starting with the heel of my left foot and moving out to the toe.
Slowly, I moved the brush back and forth, very gently, on my left heel and worked it forward until it was just under my toes. Then I spread my toes wide and pressed the brush up hard so that the bristles pushed between them. I continued moving the brush back and forth, only a little more gently. As I re-lathered the brush for my right foot, I quickly admired the left sole, newly washed and shining a gorgeous soft pink color.
I repeated the same routine with my right foot, this time lingering with the brush on my sensitive arch, fully enjoying the tight, fluttering sensation in my stomach as the bristles softly teased the most ticklish part of my foot. My husband called for me to hurry, so I put my feet together and ran the brush over the tops, rinsed, and got out. I toweled off quickly from the head down, taking special care to ensure my feet were dry. Then I wrapped myself in the towel and headed into the bedroom.
My husband stood next to our bed with a bottle of my favorite moisturizer, Clinique's Dramatically Different, and a big smile on his face. He motioned for me to sit on the edge of our bed, and I did, excitedly awaiting my treat. My husband knelt and poured a puddle of the lotion into his hands. He rubbed them together, then lovingly began to rub my clean pink feet. He tugged at each of my toes, traced his fingers over my insteps, and smoothed his palms across my heels. As his rubbing grew stronger, I laid back and luxuriated in the powerful strokes of his hands as they pressed into my arches. When he pushed all his fingers between my toes, I couldn't hold back a moan, and the way I stiffened my back and twisted with pleasure made the towel come untucked. His fingers spreading and stretching my toes so wide apart made me tingle all over.
My husband continued rubbing with an incredibly satisfied look on his face until every drop of the cream had been absorbed into my relaxed, sweet-smelling feet. He began to put more cream on, but I stopped him, reminding him that we'd be late for the guest speaker if we didn't hold off. He rose with a sigh of disappointment, but I knew I wasn't going to let him down later that night after the affair.